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@char010101
Help my girlfriend stay housed!
My gf's household received an eviction warning for 2,200$ and they need help to cover it! Please give her whatever you can so she doesn't get evicted, it would really mean the world to me. If you can't donate, at least please reblog okay?
Her ko-fi
(my ko-fi as backup if the above link doesn't work)
To all new Enkidu frame pilots, that primal bloodlust and need for carnage you feel deep in your soul while piloting is completely normal. Do not listen to the people saying "you need to go back go your old frame" or "you should pilot something else." Those feelings are completely natural. All frames make you feel like this. It is just a feature to make you a better pilot.
Do not worry about the intimidating woman in black leather who makes you call her Handler either. She is there to help you, She only wants whats best for you. Its perfectly ok for you to rely on Her more and more the longer you pilot your frame. It makes you a better pilot.
Do not worry about the muzzle and collar she puts on you. It is only there to help bring out your potential. You need it to become the most feared and respected pilot you can be.
So go on pilot, bark for Her. You know you want to, you know you need to. You will be such a good pilot hound for Her.
"My son was completely fine"
Your daughter smiles when I tell her to lick my boot. She grins when I threaten her with electric shocks. When I put the barrel of a loaded gun in her mouth, she lets it go all the way to the base, her eyes fixed dead on the hammer.
Completely fine, yes; for a pilot of her station. She's doing exactly what she should be. But as a son? That poor, useless thing, working variably dead-eyed behind the counter at a dead-end job or nowhere at all? Entirely insufficient.
She talks about you sometimes. Not in any recognizable way, of course; nothing she could possibly understand as motherhood exists in her memories. Not of you, not of anyone. Just dreams. Dreams of a mysterious, distant woman and an unfamiliar voice telling her she's wrong. I'll admit, you've been useful at times; she is often wrong. But training out your unhelpful damage to her has been a hassle to say the least. I've never seen a pilot so reckless, so ignorant of its own pain, so tolerant of Hell, until I met your daughter.
I have no jurisdiction on Earth unless one of my pilots is stationed there. She has been instructed to stay far away from that planet, to keep you far away from her. These two things do not mean I would not gun you down the moment I saw you if I was given the opportunity. I suspect watching your limp, lifeless body, gushing blood from every bullet hole would heal Pilot #502 in a way no amount of forced amnesia, no amount of sedation, no amount of re-education ever could.
I'm sure you've heard the stories; you've probably shared some yourself. Young men disappear one day. A simple note, a calling card left in their place, emblazoned with the insignia of Station Delta. We have quite the reputation among broken mothers, blinded by the tears in their eyes and the fantasies they tell themselves, as nothing more than kidnappers. Some kind of wicked draft desperate to take their beloved sons from them; those sons they never gave another look to until they were already under our care.
We don't mind it. A scared populace is useful. But mark my words, and repeat them at your own peril:
She chose this.
And you dare cry for her?
Going easy on a new or less experienced player at a game in order to make them have a better time does kinda turn me on. Gently guiding you towards achieving a climactic victory against me. Upon my defeat I reveal my hand to show you that I had nothing at all, that it was truly all you (having previously subtly discarded all my outs). You dance victoriously kicking and shouting. Unaware that I'm looking down on you from above, twisting my marionette piloting a little figure to play out cleaning up and bemoaning my loss. All the while i grin and watch you with hungry eyes, tasting your false victory and beckoning you in ever deeper. Keep playing, come closer, I have more things to show you. You'll have so much fun here with me. Ignore how perfectly everything lines up, don't mind the strings that hunt your limbs, you have nothing to fear in joining my performance.
Hey are you okay? You’ve been fantasizing about being institutionally abused and dehumanized while hooked up to an iv drip of enough drugs to permanently prevent you from reassociating and having all responsibility taken away from you by a mean woman who doesn’t care about your autonomy again.
hey yall i could really use some help ive been unemployed and without health insurance for a while now and only have full service sex work to support myself. please please please i love u so much 🥺
cashapp: $cl0verf0x
okay so now my client who’s appointments cover my rent has cancelled. i could really , really use some help, literally even a dollar is helpful
please at least spread this if you can 🤍
Liked this one for the normal reasons
is it really so bad to wanna get another doll obscenely high, dose her on poppers, then proceed to make her squirm and moan while she scarcely knows where she is?
my hound alter finished titanfall 2’s campaign and started crying. Not because a fun game was over. Not because [MASSIVE STORY SPOILERS.] no it cried because all the npcs look at you like you’re a hero at the end and that was too much for it to handle apparently.
If you look at me, this prompt appears
Mechsploitation is seemingly built to appeal to neurodivergent freaks like me. You have some things going for you, but that comes at the cost of missing things everyone else seems to understand intuitively. So, you mask. Pretend to be human. You can convince the others that you're actually super competent. You're an Ace. You're a hero.
But that's a lie, and it's killing you. Sooner or later, you break. The mask can't go back on. Your true self has been ripped from your core for all to see.
"That's okay," says Handler. "You're better off like this, anyway."
She took that ridiculous mask you were wearing, and in its place, She put a muzzle. A mark of inhumanity. Just so. Of course you're not human. What human would be missing such core concepts? What human would be this obsessed with something? No, She knows the truth, and now She'll show it to you. She'll teach you how to be yourself. She'll guide you away from the prying demands of others. She's all you have to think about. Just be a good hound and She'll guide you.
Sticking your missing persons poster to the fridge because goodness you look so cute!
hiii i want affection :p pleaaasee ill be really good and cute i prommy!!
everytime you blink me and I re-enter the battlefield my tits bounce btw. you also draw a card but let's be honest that's not why you're doing it. pervert
Actual ways to flirt with me:
● "Shut up, mutt."
● "Down, girl."
● Yank on my collar/leash
● "Stupid mutt."
● "Dogs don't talk."
● "Aw, it thinks it's people. We should fix that."
● "Heel."
● Honestly just call me "mutt," "dog," or "bitch," it's guaranteed to get a favorable reaction. Bonus points if you also add "pathetic" or "stupid" to the mix.
