Nameless Evil

Predator Badlands was amazingly fun and I think it’s because it’s entirely sincere about being an 80s action film where Arnie was swapped for a yautja including all the schlocky aesops.

Everyone imitates Tolkien all the time except when it comes to the one way it would really matter: making the protagonist of your novel for children a short, fat, 50-year-old man who doesn't want to do anything.

If you exist inside a creator safe spaces you contribute to a positive presence. Even if you're not actively partaking in creating, you help someone else to. Don't ever feel undervalued or unseen, someone out there is rendering videos, drawing lines or putting words to paper hoping you'll enjoy it.

Mhm. All the same I'm glad you feel comfortable going back to explore femininity while in a place you're happier with, I certainly understand in a different way as a transfemme dyke. It's much better when you can come at the aesthetic from yourself instead of it being forced on you.

I'd consider how you view mtf people of all kinds of you consider that you feel like one because you've ceased to be perceived as a woman, a thing that at least in some way most of us want and struggle to achieve without constantly being degendered

Yeeees yes good, love a nice planted tank. Mine are currently dealing with algae problems but I also have infinite skrimp

The water flea is probably a copepod

I'd guess from the drawing those are probably eggs from the snel

It’s nice to be in kink communities with people who are excited for my works and presence and not like ignoring me while whispering behind my back or just outright making violent accusations. Trust remains a rare currency but it’s accruing

Honestly you should [redacted] anyone claiming to be your friend to peer who is acting towards you with professional jealousy or has any habits that would cause them to be fine with supporting a social disposal

Actually going back to hanging with the transfemmes with fucked up kinks after disconnecting with the people who made my art impossible has been healing.

Exusiai from Arknights has bit the dust. Now her ghost is looking for a host. A commission for an anonymous.

See art early on my patreon (patreon.com/wavercd)

Catmaid in her uniform! (And also not in her uniform.)

"art is inaccessible/artists are gatekeepers" is the biggest self report in the world that whoever is saying it is, at best, buying in to incredibly tedious learned helplessness or, more likely, is just a huge fucking loser.

Lactareley

Folks there's a bit in Predator Badlands where the synthetic android played by Elle Fanning inserts a diagnostic needle probe into her own temple and her eyes kind of flicker like TV screens and uhhhhhhhhhhhhh 😳

Invasive android hijacking might be going on the shortlist, folks.

And a hypno version just for funsies.

Who's gonna help her fill her quota? 💕

#cybernetics #noncon #humiliation #cyberpunk

The ribs wrapped back closed around me and I became her, lounging back amongst the statues of my garden wondering when my next eggs would hatch so that I might find a different party to mount them to, to make more things like me, laying there pleasuring myself.

I dispersed across the rest of her to slowly disappear within the iron maiden of her flesh.

hidden behind the passive mask of her face slid back and down into my throat as the hood and face linked to mine.

She was extending her life, consuming me and combining me with her, my memories bleeding off into her. I was nothing more than another few decades added onto an endless sea as

I thrashed and writhed before they empty face of her head came down.

Something slid into me and the thrashing of my arms began to move the tip of the tail. I began to feel the weight of my comrades in a belly that was now more and more mine. And then the back end of the great forked tongue

she planned, just hugged me to her front as her ribcage split open and she drew me into it, sliding my legs in where her human torso's hips sank into her tail. It squeezed around me, drawing me in. Tentacles lining her innards grasped me, drawing me in, sliding my arms down her.

swallowing them down to make her belly swell before they slid down into the bulk of her tail. Those petrified were instead stuffed with an egg from her ovipositor before being turned to stone to act as a bloated, weeping, terrified armor for them.

Then I was the last. She didn't even tell me what

from her mouth and I would find out shortly why.

She captured the party to feed and to breed. One at a time she either turned them to stone or she gave them a venomous kiss that left them in a stupor, mewling pleasantly, before wrapping around them and crushing them in her coils,

Woke up from another erotic horror dream:

My party was captured in the dungeon by a titanic cobra medusa. Her scales were the color of various states of blood, her eyes a deep toxic green glow behind the sigil covered blindfold wrapped around her statuesque face. Her words did not arrive

you can act like you're above it but you're not. it's a meaningful loss, to YOU, even if you don't want it to be. they're stealing it from you. why would you help them

asking that question, however silly or crude the image, means, like it or not, considering and connecting with a human being, however briefly, in a fairly complex way. not long ago every thing Online was made by someone. it was dumb and weird and vibrant because it was human. losing it is meaningful

remember when you'd see weird pics online and look at em like, Wow why would anyone take the time to make this? it's not about A Meme, it's the death of expression and how cheerfully accepting it as a bygone conclusion, to the point that Making things no longer even occurs to you, is deeply pathetic

Herta doll