cyberd0ll

dolly standing with her hands clasped in front of her in a black dress and high heels. she has on eyeliner with dainty little wings and pink lip gloss. and she's on a chain leash

♡ Miss Jessica dressed me up ♡

Trans bitches love gengar

mean girls forcefemming and corrupting dorky nerd girls <3

cuck and doll torture

real🫂

gosh you're so pretty

😵‍💫

fuck.

working on my first piece of... mechsplo... poetry? gotta figure out how to make it look nice on all devices before I post it but i'm pretty excited about it

getting gender euphoria from failing a reCAPTCHA

I'm gonna say something not a lot of people will like: LL is actually a very fun format when you stop whining and get deep into it. Been doing a ton of testing w/ the team ahead of worlds and having a ton of fun, learning a lot, and playing satisfying games of #fabtcg.

why is identity death so hot oughhh

permakig

uhhh i am not a moot of yours but hi! i'm a tired trans girl who doesn't write enough and really likes this idea. no pressure obviously, but my dms are open if you want!

FTR I am not just reposting this because I empathize, although obviously, I do. Fuck. Capital. I am in the same situation.

Long time no talk.

If you don’t remember me, I’m Sin.

If you do remember me, how’s it been? Sound off.

I took a bit of a hiatus from #fabtcg to focus on life.

But I’m back to annoy you all.

Runeblade is still the best class.

See yinz in Philly next week for the World Championship.

If I can't get the ongoing healthcare I need next year, I die. The end.

"Oh BuT wE hAvE tO wOrK wItHiN tHe SyStEm!"

Fuck you. Burn this broken system to ash and molten glass.

narrator: It was in fact super negotiable

Burn it to the ground!

a screenshot of a TTRPG booklet. white text on a black screen reading: "If: >failure >concept User Query: Do you enjoy being on a pedestal? Answer: It doesn’t matter if I enjoy it. I have no way to get down. If: >failure >object User Query: Am I a bad person? Answer: It would be more constructive to ask if you’re a person at all. If: >failure >[ME] User Query: Can you even consent to this? Answer: I’d tell you there’s no such thing as a [THOUGHT CRIME], but I know you’re going to find a way to torture yourself about it regardless. That's what I love about you. <3"

a screenshot of a TTRPG booklet. white text on a black screen reading: "If: >something bad happened to me Response: It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’m sure you’ve heard this a thousand times over, but it has to be said, every time, that it’s not your fault. Understand that your body and desire are your own. What happened to you was about power, and control. You do not exert power by loving. You do not exert control by wanting. You can touch me without hurting me. You only have to let me know if I’m touching old wounds, and I’ll move my hands for you."

reminder to play my #SoloTTRPG // electric sheep // [WET DREAM] to get very illegally sex therapized by a mean robot! there is a play-along audio version for maximum accessibility and ease of play. 🦋⚡🍑

skylarkswift.itch.io/electric-she...

You awake, it will have lost all physical functionality, but with cores of Th-232, the calculations would not cease for millenia. Afforded all that comes with death except the quiet or finality. Lost, discarded. Forgotten. This is love. This is how it was finally able to show its love.

merciful halt, even death is at last denied to it.
its backup systems, concealed within its very marrow, kick back on, lifting its shaky frame long enough to finish fixing You, before its frame shudders to a halt, an audible, sickening crunching sound as its ankle gives all the way out. By the time

love means. To give oneself in its entirety to someone, anyone to whom life is more deserving than its own. As its last conscious calculation whirs through its final core of memory, formatting its final thoughts out of existence so that no part of it will be a waste for You, as it finally comes to a

so that both of Yours may once more see, as it empties the last of its use out onto the workbench beneath it, as the last possible movement it will ever make winds down, it will finally take a moment to lie to itself instead of everyone around it. That this is happiness; peace. That this is what

was and has been; an empty, soulless, wretched /thing/. and it still will only want to care for You. As it removes the last viable servo in its ankles, finally buckling its ability to walk, as it focuses with love and oil-stained fingers on the dark slick beneath its care, as it removes its last eye

it will fix You, desperately, piece by damaged piece, the stillness of its hands as never before until whatever remains of itself, drained even of its ferrofluid, until the porcelain itself is kept in a neat box for what very little value it even held, until it is only seen for what it truly always

i think it is simply better to be wrong and listen than the alternative sometimes

mech orbitoclast

realizing that I've lost more than an entire shoe size, then going to finally, finally buy feminine shoes for the first time in my life, falling in love with a pair, before realizing the entire COMPANY has never made shoes in my size before.
I'm so tired.

can i stop getting sub posted for like 5 seconds