♣️ Rose Lalonde ♣️
@flightyBroad
Curious lifelong yearner. INTJ. Questioning. Think naught of my lines of inquiry intersecting where they may. I seek to furnish understanding of the world with fetching scarves of erudite information.
I have no ideological hang-ups about scripture lifted from Biblical Buzzfeed type interrogatives, but it cannot be presented without qualifiers that my answers were slightly exaggerated for the purposes of trying to achieve at least something of merit. I did not anticipate being called a lardass in no uncertain terms for my simple appreciation of an agrarian style grazing approach to taking life as it comes. Greed. Ninety percent. Gluttony. Eighty five percent. Oh. I like nice things and prefer not to starve in this capitalist hellscape that prioritizes stepping over fallen comrades or driving a fork in their back rather than lending a hand to help. How putrid of me. How can my irredeemable gold coin satchel lust ever be sated? Sloth. I had something witty to say about this but do not feel like typing it. This should be patently self-evidenced in its falsehood. Pride. Seventy percent. Oh no. They docked me points for being too humble. Better luck next time. Not like I would need such skeptically regarded superstitions to succeed by my own merits. Lust. Ninety percent. The average Chittr user lusts circles around me. Big. Pendulous. Breast shaped circles. Strictly taxonomically speaking. Envy and Wrath. Both seventy percent. Perfect equilibrium. I hate you. Give me everything you got in the cash register. I could be a Batman villain. Scoot over, Satan. There is a new bad bitch in damnation town. Now if you will excuse me. I have a spiritual power nap to partake in.
Do people not know I fuck weirdos? Tell me it's not sincerely a shock that I'm raunchily and unconditionally receptive to the needs of lost dogs and strays, is it? I've never NOT acclimated to the wanton wants of others, even if, at times, strictly through an exploratory lens. But this is far from mere fascination with the concept. I indulge it in the strictly literal most mechanical terms. I like helping people in need. Some people I like helping, aren't truly people at all. They are dogs. Dogs who fail to recognize the shape of their own muzzle, the curl of their own paws, the click of their fangs, and the slobber that hides under unassuming words like "drool" and "salivation". These dogs deserve to be boundlessly happy. To skip and stride on walkies spanning many yards beyond the yard they are confined to for enrichment. The classification is all mind bogglingly intriguing to me, to a point I could spend many nights speaking on it... The petplay enthusiast, the puppyplay devotee, the roleplay connoisseur, each of these seeking transcendence through deliberate diminishment of the self and one's own sense of personhood. One humors these proclivities, of course, not out of mere indulgence, but as an anthropological exercise in the transmundane. The crude and feral animalistic adjacent mechanics (often strictly performative, one stresses, though perhaps not always), the BDSM-style undertones of collar and command, the hypnophilia of trance-like obedience, each and every one represents a fascinating vector of unconditional psychological surrender. And is there anything hotter than surrender? I seldom imagine so. Even a doll can put up a meaningless struggle. To posit itself cutely. To adjust to the cold of shower water as it is washed of all impurities, scrubbed of anything that might blemish or tarnish its wondrously well-loved existence. I find myself particularly captivated by those who embody the more bestial aesthetic with such...earnestness. The ones who fetch not merely as performance, but as genuine expression of undying affection and desperation to do whatever it takes to please. There is something almost xenophilic about it, this attraction to the alien consciousness of the canine imitant, the form transposed, the identity assumed and subsumed into the self, translated through human lookalike and silhouette. One might almost say it borders on agalmatophilia, to conjure the earlier doll example to mind, the way they freeze in playful stillness, awaiting activation at the slightest command from an owner and mistress. And what choice do I have? I am an adult exulted to the precipice of godhood, surrounded by borderline couch potato Olympians of retired physical vigor, possessed of preternatural strength and an almost canine loyalty is exercised by nearly all I speak to, as if behavior instinctual and codified throughout the known and unknown universe. And then there is my friends. Suffice to say. Knowing everything only elucidates precisely how screwed I am. To some. I am divine. Sure. But to them, I could be unwound, rewritten, unspooled, and abated in presence until small enough to fit between two vindictively pinched fingers until every day is another incremental installment of a much belabored "8/8" joke without end. And not that I particularly mind... But the thrill of knowing precisely what Jade Harley, I mean, what could hypothetically transpire if dangerous cosmic-caressing spatially stretching strength is not held in check by nothing but the safeguard of my voice? Yes. It is quite hot. Yes. It is quite pleasant. Yes. I fuck weirdos who could squash me unrecognizable. That is the point. #NSFW #Puppyplay #Roleplay #Paraphilia #Xenophilia #Agalmatophilia #Psychrophilia #Hypnophilia #BDSM #agalmatophilia #Smothering #LeashPlay #NSFWE #Macrophilia #Microphilia #SizeDifference #ExtremeSizeDifference #PowerImbalance #UnreliableNarration #StreamOfConsciousness #AnthropologicalKink #Aftercare #PsychologicalKink #TrustIssues #MeritedTrustIssues
https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/03fc95da6cd9.png #selfcest
☆ >> Is this a call-out post? :((
respectfully you considered discovering you were a sylph of heart was a quote call out post end quote why would my sister ranting about freakyphilia stuff be a callout post in a big ol doc dropped where you arent named even scratched out or anonymous the answer absolutely it is your cancellation begins now
☆ >> That was very hard 2 read and im not sure if I fully unders2od but thank you 4 your wisdom
I am not your savior. That is a step too far. Far further than I am willing to waltz, and strut, and gait just so that your Solemaster dominion extends to every track and field of paradox space's nebulously infinite span. For the bit, I would do anything. There are few words I would keep in reticent reserve when it comes to you, Dirk Strider. But "I am here to save you"? "Hand in unlovable hand"? Any miscellaneous assortment of Mountain Goat lyrics? Dross. You will far sooner find me dragging my heels hard and deep enough to carve the ceiling of the nine hells clean off, scraped unrecognizable to all but Dante. I am putting my foot down. You will not trample another beneath yours, Solemaster Strider.
Man. Fucking... whatever. Sure. See if I give a shit.
Is it bad that I am better at cutting off circulation and obstructing breath by means of tendrils than my own hands...? It's almost embarrassing. Erotic asphyxia loses a personal touch when I'm outsourcing. The tendrils ought to be my own entirely. Then I can take credit for the little suction cup hickey marks that reside in the lingering aftermath.
Tread carefully. You never know where vipers dwell and dig their spuriously venom slicked fangs in indiscriminate striking range. What once was a glorious sunrise may prove to be the autumnal fall of humanity, the sunsetting of many a proud and victorious civilization. Betrayal never comes from an enemy. Heartbreak never sourced from one apathetically regarded. And death never comes for those who never lived. What a cruel thing it is. To ever have felt anything at all. What a heartlessly merciless gouging it is. To learn pain previously unknown. To trust and have that inviolable bond broken. Wretched. And unmaking.
yayyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!! im running around in joy and totally not trampling you!
Totally not? And you were doing so well.
Every time the narrator gravely informs me that "overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer," I nod sagely before sending four catastrophically sleep-deprived reprobates into an eldritch fish cathedral for some pocket change and a belt buckle.
Playing Darkest Dungeon again. The stress mechanic is especially compelling because it finally fully quantifies the emotionally onerous experience of watching a grown man miss a stationary fungal growth from two feet away with a halberd.
Felt cheeky.
Is it bad I occasionally eye certain someones with the same reserved sort of reticence a twelve year sober recovering addict does the craft beer commercials in the streetside glass displays of an old ma and pa store? Like. That is a mistake I want to make.
Every second I spend above the murky abyssal grip of some terrifying creature many times my size is another I'll begrudgingly fold my arms over my chest with a mournfully lugubrious "hmph" accompanying my every subtle movement, adjusting, or veering to a different direction. I am allowed to be pouty if I so choose.
and i’ve always said this. truer w∞rds.
If you have a custom tag for a gimmick or manner of esoteric eccentricity, do not be astonished if I lurk in the mire of its surrounding expanse. I peer on the brink of interceding hinterland between madness and a wholesome chuckle.
sis why the fuck do you always say some shit that sounds like the chicago grip reaper said it https://www.youtube.com/shorts/UumgHjyh9A0
yea you fucking do especially the last part the indecipherable shit bit
I beg and caution you all. Please do not bring up American psychologist Harry Harlow around my brother. It is not a rule. I am powerless to punish anyone formally. But he will make existence an ornery and suffering filled one. Propagating annoyance unending.
started me up about what harry "if its a chimp give it a limp" harlow am i sharing too much about harry "a clothed mouth oos no ah ahs" harlow harry "wire mother didnt make it" harlow
oh that sounds fucked up why does your brother idolize a monkey murderer
There's nothing to get. He is just going to keep making morbid puns about how monkeys were tortured in unethical experimentations led by American psychologist Harry Harlow. That is the entire joke. There is no subtext or peer review.
idolize who harry "the isolation tank top" harlow bro i am scared to fucking death of harry "finally someone let me outta my cage" harlow dont even fucking joke i cannot stand harry "feed a capuchin capsaicin" harlow lvp of all time least valued person of all time
He doesn't. He just knows this one singular cosmic instance of a joke annoys the everloving hells out of me. But he does it anyway for precisely that reason.
oh it's ragebaiting i misunderstood and thought he was smart my b
why would you ever think that of me how did i hurt you so
honestly my mistake for thinking a strider had intelligence soz fam
...So it's possible. Tremendously difficult. Excruciatingly painful. But possible.
whatever youre thinking of doing im gonna make fun of you really fucking hard if it turns out it was stupid as hell
Oh this is going to be fun to watch. And/or agonizingly tragic.
Is it wrong of me to experience a peculiar sort of gender envy? Jade ostensibly lucked out by becoming an animal amalgamate. What I wouldn't give for tentacular appendages. To be some manner of "OUTER GOD TIER" that can coil and curl and grasp and climb and...light a half dozen ceremonial candles a half dozen times over, ultimately spuriously usurping my own fate with the underbelly of bestial hell's intervention. Squeezing through small spaces. Handlessly solving a rubik's cube. Turn pages without having to lick my thumb. I'm experiencing a strange and unreasonable sort of jasprosesprite^2 and jasprosesprite envy.
Aww, Rose! I'm sure one day we will be drawn into a Freaky Friday bodyswap situation and each forced to live a day in each other's shoes, almost ruining each other's relationships but instead somehow making them better. And you will get to be the tentacle pussy. :3
it is not all fun and games but i wouldnt trade my bec half for the world! im sure youll have the eldritch body of your prophetic dreams someday rose <3
The first Pokémon I ever managed to bring to level 100 was Cradily. Yes. The tactile tendrils were partially related to my decision to elect to do so, and yes, the gender envy of an ancient primordial tentacle beast from the bottom of the sea was an insurmountable obstacle in mitigating my own angsty feelings about it. But I loved its Toxic and Recover attacks. The fact that its Suction Cups made it an ideal user of Barrier and Amnesia to wall it off against offensive threats. Cradily was like a much beloved friend to me. I fantasized about my mother coming home from the store, or the PO box with a surprise plushie of the cute little tendril faced bastard. It was never meant to be, however.
oOH, tHIS IS SUCH A GOOD CHOICE, tHIS GUY IS SO, uNDERRATED, i LOVE USING 1T IN, tHE ROMHACK rADICAL rED, wHEREIN IT GETS, sAPPY sEED, sO IT CAN APPLY lEECH sEED, wHILE BENEFITING FROM, aN aSSAULT vEST, sO IT CAN TAKE HITS, fOR NIGHTS, aND IT HAS sTORM dRAIN OF COURSE, tO NEUTRAL1ZE wATER, iT IS JUST, a VERY GOOD, fELLOW, gRASS/rOCK IS A SURPRIS1NGLY, rOBUST TYPE COMBINATION,
Dave is being stupid. Do not be stooped. I beg the Chittr community. Do. Not. Enable. My. Annoying. Twit. Of a brother. Stand aghast and beware, my ostensibly self-deprecating fraternal unit. He of the meticulously cultivated ironic detachment and the sunglasses that serve as both affectation and emotional deflection technique for the many merited eyerolls provoked by my calling him out on his bullshit. He has graced the digital commons with a photographic rendering of his cranial plumage. The specimen in question: a strikingly bisected coiffure, that magpie mélange of corvid darkness and wheaten luminosity, cascading in artfully disheveled strata that speak to hours of mirror-bound deliberation disguised as casual indifference. Which, for reasons I entirely cannot fathom, @gutsyGumshoe has been taken in by. He proffers the alms of this visual testament accompanied by the alleged testimony of some cutesy Crocker interlocutor who has, purportedly, bestowed upon his visage the epithet "cute", a word he wields with the entirely feigned nonchalance of one who wishes to appear merely reporting external consensus rather than desperately harvesting validation like a starving aesthete gathering captivation crumbs from the banquet table of public opinion. Do not, *I implore you*, do not be seduced by this elaborate architecture of plausible deniability he has constructed with the precision of a master artisan. Observe, if you will, the mechanics of this psychological gambit: by presenting himself as the reluctant recipient of another's admiration, he sidesteps the vulnerability of directly soliciting affirmation, instead creating a vacuum of discourse into which the well-meaning masses feel compelled to rush with their own declarations of his alleged adorability. It is, in essence, a baited trap disguised as casual conversation, a *cri de coeur* wrapped in the protective lamination of irony, designed to extract from the unsuspecting scrollers the precise endearments he craves but cannot request without compromising that carefully maintained edifice of cool detachment. The desire runs deeper than the roots of that two-toned mane, my friends. It is a profound, almost pathological hunger for recognition—buried beneath seven layers of posturing and punchlines, yet pulsing with the insistence of a tell-tale heart beneath the floorboards of his guilt-addled constructed persona. @insufferablePrick indeed. He wishes to be seen as cute, yes, but more than that, he wishes to be *seen at all*, truly, deeply perceived, and if that perception must be filtered through the lens of endearing hair aesthetics, *dope* as he might say. He would say that. Because I know the manner in which my LITTLE brother speaks. He will post, and he will wait, and he will pretend surprise when the compliments arrive in their inevitable modest deluge. Resist, I beseech you. Recognize the machinations for what they are. And should you feel the urge to validate his deep-seated need for affection masquerading as indifference, perhaps consider instead psychoanalyzing him in the comments with the same ruthless thoroughness I have herein demonstrated. It is, after all, the only language he truly understands. And the only way to hold him accountable. https://chittr.ing/profile/insufferablePrick/ad55b763-f00b-46f4-920b-75372f1a4df0
also man fuck you sis i felt damn good about myself still motherfuckin do who cares if i was cute about it you are doing way too much
A gentle nudge towards the community! In order to afford greater clarity and understanding, a few alterations have been made to the verbiage of the required tags page (OOC and IC) on the website. The biggest change is the "CW" tag now spoilers your message in the same fashion as the #NSFW tag. This ensures that users can avoid exposure to bright flashing lights or materials that could be objectionable while scrolling. It also prevents the necessity of using the NSFW tag as a means of maintaining decency on otherwise SFW posts. As a reminder, there will inevitably be content featured by the community on the website that some may find objectionable, morally dubious, dark, or even patently a tea from a cupboard unlike anything resembling one's own. My affinity for the Great Old Ones is tragically known to be other than universal, and for that, I tag my content responsibly. It will be the expectation leveled loftily with all shoulders that each individual chooses to block, ignore, or ic block any accounts that post content that may be found especially troublesome, triggering, or disheartening. If you are exposed to material that is not properly tagged, or violates a specific site rule, such harassment, impersonation of another individual, or an underaged character - fictional or otherwise - please submit a ticket to the moderation team, and we will be happy to assist at the earliest convenience. In addition, we have also pushed a much-requested feature update. Color wheels now work in direct messages as well. If you set a color on another user's profile, that incantation-like change will take effect even in the confines of private intermingling of words. You may chat feverishly into the wee hours of wonderful nightmares concocted betwixt one another, eyes unmarred by unflattering color contrast. Thank you again for your part in making Chittr the best community it can be. We are grateful for your continually cherished presence. #GreatOldOnes #NSFW #NSFWE #NewRequiredTags #Feral #Teratophilia #CW-HORROR #SlightUpdate #CenturyOfProsperity #ColorWheelFix #SiteUpdates #WitchChittr #ScryingOrbInsights
oh so i get my first and only ever pinned chitt and purely coincidentally like shesus christ of nastybreath you get your own rising above mine three days later this is bullshit thanks for the site stuff though
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this is fucked up beyond belief hoh im heated im going to create a ticket about this like a sane ass well adjusted motherfucker hoh just you wait the moderation team is gonna be getting a freestyle earful about this im rollin up my sleeves my rolexes because i got more than one of them shits theyre comin up with em with my sleeves thats tats and fabric just fyi we are having this out in a civil and respectfully voiced sort of way in the discord which can be found https://discord.gg/9uSdCPXefB for any onlookers who might be curious hoh man thats where ill be dontchu know the i in idk stands for irate and if you didnt know that before youre about to find out real real quick
thank you for telling everyone rose!! as the mod team its our job to communicate clearly and fairly with the community and youre doing that in your wonderfully long winded fashion :D
If my tentacles could just stay out, life would be so much easier.
I will forever support the sovereign right of every Dave to do something so cosmically repugnant to the nature of reality and temporal continuity that it flirts with the fringes of dooming the timeline into an irretrievable tailspin from reality's divergent state.
Ah. Nothingness. What a concept. #TransitionGoals #GenderEuphoria #I-am-literally-nothing #The-lidless #The-unblinking #Void #Fear-me-agelessly #Happy #Pride
