ao3=richredapples

26nb I have fanfiction brainrot.

[jayevrd]

clumsy & drunk

[mimi-maru]

[dunge0ns-and-d00bies]

this is probably already here but here it is again bc it rips my heart out everytime also spoilers for book 5 you’ve been warned

credit - @/packoiii on tik tok

[beezusjones]

Oh no oh god oh no I’m kilt and dead. I love them so much. 😭

[mongo-the-liensis]

Oh. Okay. I see how it is

[redshirtbrowncoat]

Parade of Horribles Spoilers below:

People don't give Donut enough credit for her compassion and emotional intelligence. Pony's still grieving his mother's death, and has to deal with new moral quandaries without her assistance. He's also just hard to be around. He's kind of pompous, stubborn, and a bit of an asshole. I absolutely love Prepotente as a character, but I don't blame anyone for not wanting to be around him. Because his mother died, and because he's... well, he's Prepotente, he's so isolated and alone, and unable to navigate social cues and whatnot.

So, what does Donut do? She sees it. She looks at Pony rambling about morals, and, seeing the underlying issue, she finds a way to help him not only navigate these conundrums, but she makes it into an excuse for them to talk every day.

And don't get me started on chapter 62's intro with the half-orc who accidentally killed 2 people telling Donut how she's beautiful inside and out. She was patient, listened to a man literally stutter his way through telling his story, and actively listened to him, before she gave him a kind word that she knew he needed. And it was enough to keep him from falling into despair during faction wars. I can't read that entry without tearing up it's so sweet.

[syrospit]

For art requests: Princess donut getting pats?

She’s just a little kitty cat;-; she deserves a break.

i keep hearing implications about what’s gonna happen to her in inevitable ruin and i’m #sofuckingscared

[himbotheninth]

dungeon crawler carl is fun because you go into it thinking it'll be an unserious, fun and gratuitously violent action book, and then you get to the very first boss, and then you think, now hold on. Hold on. And then all of a sudden you're seven books deep and insane and also holding on to the indomitable human spirit for dear life and also a crab has to jack off. like holy shit dude. i've got relentless hope and found family in one hand and the world's weirdest foot fetish in the other

[chekhovs-raygun]

it feels like a water balloon of Respect Women Juice. there's this thin skin of litRPG/shonen story, where you are presented with carl, a very bigstrong tall handsome coast guard mechanic. and you're like 'ok cool time to watch a very manly man do man things like blow shit up and kick monsters to death and get ever more capable of solving all his problems with violence' and then almost immediately carl gets locked into appeasing the dungeomaster's foot fetish, because the alternative is dying. all around him women are complex, nuanced people with their own hopes and fears all making a wide variety of good and bad decisions, and at every turn carl would like to know as little as possible about their sex lives. his own consists of a camwhore pedicure routine every night. meanwhile the author is reaching out of the book every couple chapters to write EAT THE RICH really big on your throat. i love this show.

[mimi-maru]

[charnel-grounds]

Paula Rego (1935–2022), “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep”

from ‘Nursery Rhymes’ series

etching & aquatint on Arches wove paper, 1999

[fagintosh]

aka Miriam Dom and Prepotente

“My beautiful boy.”

[abominationcreations]

Dungeon Crawler Carl fanart because my brother talked me into reading the series and turns out this shit is straight crack to me

[itsclydebitches]

DCC Carl is the Guy™ of all time. 6'3 ex-coastguard trained in hand-to-hand combat. Was 100% gonna fight Bea's rich lawyer dad for custody of her cat, Princess Donut. Religiously hits the gym 2-3 times a week. Is completely at ease saving the world in heart boxers and, when necessary, completely naked. Also embraces his luscious long hair. Has the uncanny ability to combine, bend, and break game rules to suit his needs. Despite his intelligence, still regularly falls back on "bomb the shit out of it" as a solution. Curses like a sailor. Says "I love you" with no hesitation. Has surrounded himself with competent, scary-ass women and when they go, "Carl you fucked up" his response is, "Yeah, I did. I'm sorry." Ultra daddy issues. Works hard to never become his father. The two times he prioritized ~sexy lady~ over survival he was literally charmed. A friend to everyone who has his and Donut's back, be they human, alien, sluggalo, goat, or sentient sex doll head.

Did murder a bunch of goblin babies though. And allegedly jerked off a crab.

Ah well. No guy's perfect!

[mimi-maru]

[abominationcreations]

Dungeon Crawler Carl fanart because my brother talked me into reading the series and turns out this shit is straight crack to me

[mimi-maru]

[driver-kid]

*No Donuts got water on them during the production of this piece. All water is mere special effects for the sake of looking cool. Also, hello folks! I’m alive!

Alt looks and a special message under cut!

[agathah]

Arkco sketch I made on my new sketchbook

[infectiouspiss]

you have to stay alive. you're going to be such a beautiful middle aged freak. young freaks will see you in the street and know that things can be okay.

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

I was 22 when I got my first bookstore job, and at the time my entire experience of "old people" was my grandparents, none of whom had been particularly healthy, and none of whom I was close with. To my young eyes, all they did was sit around and be old. That was life after 60.

The owner of the bookstore was this grand old dame of 76 who had been in the business for 40 years. She'd had three kids with a husband who was extremely gay, and as soon as those were old enough, they split up. She read on an epic scale, was an avid follower of the opera, sang in several choirs, and scheduled arts programming for a private club. She had gentleman callers (so they styled themselves) at the store continuously the entire fifteen years I worked there--yah, into her NINETIES. She never took up seriously with any of them, because they couldn't keep up. She was impeccably dressed and put together every single day of her life, drank regularly, and said they would pry her estrogen supplements out of her cold, dead hands. She had a gang of elderly single lady friends, though, and they went out every night of the week. They knew everything and everyone, collectively. She got her first smart phone in her mid-80s and became extremely Online. I bet she's on Tumblr now. She is 96.

This blew my mind. Life didn't have to be over...ever.

We worship youth in our culture. Only the young have futures, and the aged exist to enable the lives of the young. We act as if by the time you hit forty, you've had your chance. You are now expected to step aside and scede life to others.

FUCK THAT. I have a lot of life ahead of me. I have places to go and books to read and people to fuck and food to eat and music to dance to and emotions to feel and nazis to punch and stories to tell and hearts to break and ventures to capitalize and empires to conquer. I am going to be doing this for the next fifty years, minimum.

Life has so much in it. Do it all, forever.