Dude is gender neutral @sir-guadalupe - Tumblr Blog

fuck it, i'm curious. reblog and tag with the first fictional death to ever rewrite your brain chemistry and/or make you cry like a baby. mine was ares from the underland chronicles (who, for context, was a giant bat.) to this day i will weep if i think too hard about it. okay, go.

sir-guadalupe

Hvitur from Wings of Fire

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how does being punched in the face feel like

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literally i just wanna know

burn-brighter-than-fire

It depends on where you get hit

Cheek: a round dull pain that clocks your entire head in a different direction. It’s painful and throbs but the main effect of a punch to the cheek is how jarring it is. You feel it in your mouth, your teeth. And no matter how you position that punch the knuckles will always hit the jaw and cheek bones adding a frame of sharp pain in which the redness will be painted.

Temple: getting hit on the temple pushes your head to the side rather than turning it. It’s disorienting because it leaves you very off balance. It essentially feels like a bad pressure headache, like when you have a sinus infection on a plane, but in one spot and on the outside. It’s sharp in the middle and radiates outward and even after the initial impact it pulses like an earthquake epicenter. It easily causes long lasting headaches and is the most likely of these examples to cause a concussion.

Eye: this is a weird one. The fist doesn’t fit within the eye socket so either the knuckles on the brow and cheeks bones protect the actual eye or they don’t. The former option gives a full spreading pain below the eye which results in the classic black eye look and a sharp pain on your brow similar to hitting your shin on the couch. The latter option, well bad things can happen when a hard fast object makes direct contact with your eye but for the sake of this it feels like a vacuum bc the concave shape is being covered and pressurized. The eye feels pushed back and pulled forward all at once. It doesn’t necessarily hurt that bad for that long unless the punch was meant to do damage. I’m fortunate to say I don’t know what it would feel like then.

Nose: remember that prank kids used to pull where they’d line up their hands with their nose, push them in one direction and crack a knuckle at the same time to pretend to break their nose? Yeah that’s what it looks like when someone punches you from the side in the nose, except it’s someone else’s hand and your nose makes the sound instead of their knuckle. It’s just like breaking any bone where you hear it and feel the action if it being done but that moment of shock blankets you for a split second until all the pain comes rushing back. It’s sharp and needlelike and can give you black eyes just to add insult to injury. If you get hit in the nose from the front it’s like the uncomfortableness of when you have to sneeze but can’t. Except that feeling took all the steroids and is now using your face as a punching bag to express its roid rage. It crackles outward like static electricity under your skin, your eyesight gets fuzzy and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re tearing up, it’s hard to open your eyes, or you’re momentarily stunned and blinded. Just know it’s all three. I find that this one knocks the wind out of you the most. Gotta remind yourself to breathe just don’t try to do it through your nose.

If you really want to know what this feels like I’d suggest joining a mixed martial arts because they’ll teach you correct form and power distribution and you can spar with pads and actually hit each other.

I’d also recommend learning what it feels like to punch someone in the face. It’s much more fun and pretty damn cathartic when they deserve it.

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i was just being stupid but these descriptions are actually so well written i could feel them lmao bless

jenniferrpovey

Well, thanks for “being stupid,” because this is a great ref for writers.

sir-guadalupe

Got hit in the cheekbone, was sharp for ten minutes, went dull for a couple hours, was sore for a long while, and blinking was weird.

You won’t hear the rumors in the usual places. You won’t hear them in taverns, or fair grounds, or the town squares. Not amongst the soldiers in their barracks, or the nobles in their castles, or merchants in their stores, or priests in their temples. If you do hear them here, it’s of a devilish monster, an abhorrent thing in the armor of a paladin, with rams horns and a horrid tail. A monster born of fire and ash, that plans to plunge the world into the fires of hell.

But that’s not the whole story.

If you head to the slums, to the workhouses, the poorhouses, you’ll hear a different story. A virtuous young man, with shining armor, clean weapons, and coin for the poor. A savior, a promise, a hero. Some believe him to be the personification of Tiefling pain, the pain of thousands gathering into one being dedicated to saving all Tieflings and all other beings deemed ‘unholy’ by the holy men.

But that’s not the whole story either.

If you get his friend and sponsor Ralph drunk enough, he’ll tell you a story. A story of a drunkard gambler, and a half starved child. How the child had only his ratty clothes, his parents rings, and a singular copper piece. No matter how many times you ask, he’ll never tell what he felt, or why he did what he did, but he took the child with him. Wrapped him up in his cloak, brought him to a tavern, fed him warm food, and put him in a warm bed. Taught the child how to gamble, to fight, to read and write. How he funds the child, now grown, as he follows his path.

… But that’s not the full story either.

If you ask him, he wouldn’t tell you anything. He values his privacy too much to tell his secrets to just anybody. But if you gain his trust and ask while on a mission, by the warmth of a campfire, he might allow you to share in his burden. A village burned, everything stolen by holy men, and all the folks killed but one. A small child, with a broken horn. He found and took all coin the holy men didn’t steal, his parents jewelry, and the only banner not destroyed. He buried what remained of his people with the broken remains of his horn and left. Whoever he was died with his village, and Abhor the Virtuous, or Virtue the Abhorrent, rose in his place.

#my ocs #dnd #oc

The Right Hand of the dead Immortal King walks around the shrine, The Master of Blades and The Blood Red Woman stand at the edge of the shrine, not ready to confront their own sins.

Right Hand walks around the shrine, picking up items before setting them back down. The metal of his prosthetic arm groans with each movement. He’s been trapped for twenty-five years, unable to repair himself.

“Can’t you hear the voices, Right Hand? People are distressed. This isn’t the time for your self reflection.” Red Woman talks plainly. She does not enter the shrine. She knows the Right Hand is bound inside, and would win any confrontation. “You do nothing but mope. It’s all you’ve done since your imprisonment.”

Blades gestures down the mountain, panicking. “Nobody thought this was possible! Our king is gone, dead! He had already ruled for hundreds of thousands of years when any of us came down into this hellhole, and now he’s dead!? How did this happen!?”

Red Woman stands on the boundary of the shrine. The Right Hand cannot touch her until she actually enters the shrine, and they all know it. Blades and the Red Woman wouldn’t even be here if they didn’t know that. “Answer us, Right Hand! We know you know something! You were his favorite! You brought him hundreds of thousands of souls over the many centuries you’ve served him.”

The Right Hand paces in front of the entry way in front of the duo, a predator sizing up his prey. “And yet I’m still here, trapped. While the lot of you stay out there, free. Well, only as free as a lot of demons can be. How long until you all start to fight amongst yourself to become the new king, hmm? It’s already been a month since he was destroyed. How much longer until we stop pretending we’re still humans? How long until they all stop pretending that they’re still in that society modern humans hold so dear?”

Red Woman glares down at the Right Hand. “You act all high and mighty, as if being the oldest of us Deal Makers makes you great, It just means you were the original fool.”

The Right Hand laughs at the Red Woman. “Does that make you the second fool!?” He turns to Blades. “And you the third!? Nothing but a pair of followers, aren’t you two!?” He cackles at the pair. “In life and death you remain nothing but a pair of followers!”

The Red Woman grabs the Right Hand by his throat and yanks him forward, slamming him into the barrier keeping him trapped. “You’re nothing but a traitorous rat! You’ve betrayed everyone who loved you before He made you this monstrous form of perfection. And for what!? Love!?”

Blades reaches forward, attempting to soothe. “He’s just a man! Isn’t it a human desire to love? To feel the warmth of another? We can’t blame him for craving affection after so long-”

Red Woman shouts in outrage. “He abandoned us! Again!”

The Right Hand snorts. “You speak like I chose to become a demon in the first place. It was that or a slow agonizing death. And the two of you are grown now. You can protect the other two. Or am I expected to simply abandon the thought of ever doing something to please myself because it means the two of you must bear a fraction of the responsibility I carried for a decade and a half? I didn’t realize that by saving a bunch of half-dead children from the snow, I was tossing out the possibility of ever living a life of my own.”

#creative writing #writing #oc #my ocs #oooo I wrote this a year ago!#if I get the motivation I might continue it #but who knows

Lost Home, June 17, 2026

I'm from smoke and dust in my lungs,

Fire on the horizon, dried up river beds,

Hot like an oven, it never rained.

Mountain hikes for a grade,

Wore uncomfortable uniforms.

Adults never cared about children's cruelty.

Three against one, chased into a corner.

Horrid thud of metal against flesh.

Eye still hurts after seven years.

Three years of Taekwondo.

The comfort of my worn-out white gi.

The smell of sweat hard-earned and teenagers still learning hygiene.

Eating ice cream with dear friends after a test.

Achievement and pride for winning.

The black belt stiff in my calloused hands,

Everyone calling me 'Mr.'

I was always walking in the backyard,

Playing in a fort or out front,

Selling lemonade with the neighbors,

Neck red and shoulders blistering.

Where I'm from died in 2020,

With so much else.

But it still lives beneath my skin,

Behind my eyes, in my lungs,

Like a parasite I just can't bare to lose.

#poetry #nostalgia

crippled-peeper

spotted on a smoke; I never see anything akin to Intersex rights slap stickers (that I didn't make with shitty markers) so I stopped to look closer

Apologies for shit photo quality; I was blazed and bemused and apparently I never looked away during the process of taking the pic 😐

I’m fucking crying laughing I know this might be some cruel joke (???) but I’m stoned as fuck too and I just can’t stop laughing at it .

tag yourselves I’m Spegg

#sperg

I think there's something wrong with me that makes me unlovable. Even when I'm the one who got hurt, everyone cares about the person who hurt me. But God forbid she's a toxic girlfriend to one of you. THEN she's cut off. THEN she's a horrible person. Let's forget the fact she kicked ME a year before she was a toxic girlfriend. Let's forget she was bullying ME for my natural hair color, my fashion, my fucking TEETH, two years beforehand. Let's forget she would get so upset if I made any comments back. Let's forget she bullied me so bad I stopped hanging out with you. Let's forget the fact I dyed my fucking hair to regain the confidence SHE STOLE FROM ME. Let's forget the near DECADE of progress to rebuild my self-esteem that SHE destroyed. Let's just forget it when I'm hurt. Let's forget me. Sometimes, I think nobody would care if I just disappeared. It's not like they care when I stop texting them.

#tw vent #vent #vent post #personal vent

interestingmistakes

Reblogging this manually. Op doesn't want credit for fear of being terminated.

grymmoires

inexplicably-gaining-followers

This stupid exchange between friends has become a cultural icon.

the-haiku-bot

This stupid exchange

between friends has become a

cultural icon.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

I'm going to Pompeii today, and I'll take photos there. I've been in Italy for around a week and a half, and plan to post my photos when I'm home.

#travel #italy

jaubaius

No way out

bogleech

idiot jail for ignorant beasts

lochnutmonster

Sisyphus

chortlebot

one must imagine sisyphus ouppy

pyxilate

Why don't you like people named Ella

bad personal experience with all people with the name. 2/3 and the 1 doesn’t even go by Ella so

sir-guadalupe

Understandable, I don't like people named Lauren because one gave me a TBI.

homunculus-argument

Saw you post about the pope. I also know nothing about Catholicism. My dad was raised evangelical and has cheated on literally every woman he’s ever been with like it’s insane. Bro cannot keep it in his pants. He’s also a cop and definitely has some sort of untreated personality disorder because sometimes when I was a kid he would get weird and start seeing demons and shit and he owned a human skull that he stole from a med school or something. Anyway I don’t talk to him anymore but about four months ago he gave my brother (who does still talk to him) like five hundo in bloody dollar bills like with actually blood on them and then he caught an early flight to Thailand. And now he’s back and according to his best friend (who told my brother, who mentioned it to me) he’s catholic. So I’d like to nominate him to be excommunicated on the grounds of that stuff.

Every piece of graffiti in this Casey's bathroom stall is either anti-nazi or nazi shit that's been scratched out.

#anti facist #anti nazi #anti trump #anti maga

alanaisalive

The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.

iguanamouth

oh shit

throughshadow-to-the-edgeofnight

alanaisalive

As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.