SomeDogThing
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subtopwoofer.bsky.social
SomeDogThing
@subtopwoofer.bsky.social
74 followers 510 following 66 posts
🫀adult male dog🐶patriot🏳️‍⚧️🩷💜💙metal dust enthusiast⚙️omicron male🕺polycule grochery agent🥑snake step-uncle🐍forklift certified🍴got a C on the harkness test💯never stop the grindset 24/7 365 days love the world🌍millenial chaser😏22 he/it🔞
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subtopwoofer.bsky.social
Just remembered that this was the first character I‘ve ever seen in anything that sorta slightly resembles transmasc representation (not exactly cause he‘s intersex, but he does have a pussy and boobs and still gets he/him‘d).
A picture of the character Crim from the anime Interspecies Reviewers. A petite blonde angel boy with wings, a halo and long hair. He looks quite feminine, even having boobs.
January 5, 2025 at 1:32 PM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
old drawing without specific meaning, was just doodling.
Drawing of a pale green woman with neon pink hair holding her hands over her face in a shy or perhaps defensive manner. The background is dark blue and a strong shadow is cast over her body, and she is surrounded by yellow golden floating eyes drawn in a cartoony style. Also, she has an impressive pink bush which is not important to the overall composition, I just like how it turned out.
December 19, 2024 at 11:43 PM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
I love horrid catgirls
December 11, 2024 at 8:16 PM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
My Blades in the Dark character, Lind 🤠
December 11, 2024 at 8:15 PM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
Soo its only been like 2 weeks since I posted about it, so here’s some art! A friends character from our Blades in the Dark campaign, unfriendly fella named Bleak!

#bitd #bladesinthedark
November 24, 2024 at 8:33 PM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
chat I fucked up
November 8, 2024 at 8:07 AM
subtopwoofer.bsky.social
Weird self-analysis/artsy writing thing from a few weeks ago. God and stuff.
And god my head hurts. It often does. I’m a headache kind of person, not the stomach ache kind. Perhaps its a silly superstition to separate the two, but it just makes sense. The tool used most often breaks first, and the room you like spending the most time in will grow messy and disorganized the fastest. And I’ve left it only rarely these days, boring and responsible as I try to be. Every thought, every impulse, every feeling and belief, even what I do and don’t see, I place it on the little golden scale. I have to. Separating reason and unreason, calculating rationality and harm, choosing what to think and feel manually cause hell knows the algorithm has not been updated in years. But I envy them, the stomach-ache people. For no matter how enraptured I am by the depths of love and hatred my condition has rendered me capable of, the sheer manic joy and catatonic despair, most days are spent numb, frustrated and with an ache that makes me fantasize about ice picks and lobotomies. If the divine exists, I am severed, mutilated, handicapped, cut-off beyond repair with only the shifting shadow in the shape of a man reminding me of its light then when the night is darkest. I fear the closest I’ve ever been to god is the madness of new love, and the separation of mind from body under extreme distress. Neither of which are particularly accessible prayers.
October 10, 2023 at 9:34 AM