You Should Scroll Through Your Mutuals Blogs And Mass Reblog All Their Posts Cause The Reblog Button

everyone I've seen who encounters HDG goes through one of two processes

or alternatively, and significantly more popularly,

how am I both?

The pinned post is dead, long live the pinned post!

figures I may as well revisit the "intro" post, because it's been a while and to say I'm a different person now would be an understatement, as I now probably count as people more than anything.

After a long bit of introspection and trying to see what would fit in the "holes"(?) in our memory, we've come to the conclusion that I am not in fact the original personality of this body, despite identifying with it.

My current theory is that roughly 5 years ago, something happened, or many small pressures added up, and the 'original' mind splintered like a dropped vase. All three of us got some piece for lack of a better term of the original personality, but in the time since, we've developed into our own mostly separate individuals.

Firstly, there's me, Hazel. I also go by Dbug (which is what I'm most comfortable with for people who aren't close friends), or our original birth name when necessary. While none of us really fit a 'system role' as plural spaces would describe them, I certainly come the closest. I'm the one stuck running the show in day-to-day life, and I hold all the nasty mental shit as well as being the one in charge of keeping everyone safe, often taking priority over my own wellbeing. Any pronouns, with a mild preference for She/Her. Secondly, there's Joy. She was the first of us I became aware of other than myself and got a lot of the old mind's more 'positive' traits. She also got the social bits and is considerably more outgoing, though even that's only relative to myself. She/her exclusive Lastly, we have Otto, who came about roughly a year later, during an attempt to create a non-sapient assistant became a real boy. He's what you could call 'the smart one', relatively speaking, tending to be a bit dryer in speech. He also handles a lot of headspace stuff, exploration of what's out there and all that. He/they

As mentioned earlier, I'm glued to the steering wheel, so it'd be safe to assume you're talking to me unless stated otherwise. My Tumblr activity won't be changing much, though. I'm still (slowly) working on my writing projects, though now I partake in the occasional venting or hornyposting.

Feel free to reach out if you want to get to know any of us better or have any questions or curiosities. I'm always glad to get to know new people and share all my nerdy hyperfixations, as are my brain-bound companions.

I took steampunk with a few subclass levels in random fetish. if I am left alone for more than 20 minutes i *will* invent something heinous and it *will* be all of my friends' problems.

I know stereotypes are bad, but let’s be honest—every trans girl has a vibe. So tell me, which one are you?

A cute hacker girl fueled exclusively by energy drinks – You type at lightning speed, have a questionable sleep schedule, and may or may not be a digital cryptid. Bonus points if you can do eyeliner so sharp it doubles as a weapon.

A literal cat/dog (kitten/puppy also valid options) – You either radiate smug feline energy or are the human embodiment of "wagging tail, big eyes, head pats please." No in-between.

Target mom – You have opinions on scented candles, will absolutely offer to buy your friends snacks, and could run a household with military efficiency if you weren’t so busy being cute.

Three communist manifestos in a trench coat trying to add others to their cause – You own at least one tattered copy of The Communist Manifesto, believe transition should be free, and could (and would) unionize a girl’s night out.

Teenage witch – You collect shiny rocks, you’ve considered hexing a TERF, and your idea of self-care involves moon water and aggressively manifesting a hotter body.

OH NO A LITERAL GOBLIN! – You hoard shinies, giggle mischievously, and the concept of “pretty girl” and “chaotic gremlin” are one and the same to you.

A vampire with an addiction to fluffy things – Yes, you are the night. But also, you need a soft blanket, thigh-high socks, and a collection of plushies to survive.

A faerie who steals genders and scrambles eggs – You don’t just crack eggs; you turn them into omelets. Gender is yours to redistribute. Watch out, because if you so much as look at someone, they might start questioning things.

A 1950s housewife but horny and super progressive – You bake, you’re adorable, and you’re absolutely calling someone “darling” while making them question their sexuality.

Goth was never just a phase, it’s a lifestyle – Your wardrobe is mostly black, your eyeliner could kill a man, and you’ve perfected the balance between spooky and sapphic.

Goth but discovering the color brown (steampunk) – You have very strong opinions on corsets, pocket watches, and the intersection of sapphic romance and gears.

Cottagecore is my goal in life – You dream of a cozy cottage in the woods where you and your cute wife bake bread, tend to your garden, and forget what capitalism is.

I choose you, random fetish! – You didn’t mean to be this way, but here you are. Your interests are niche, intense, and probably make people blush when you explain them.

So, which one (or ones) are you? Or are you something even gayer?

happy yuri night everyone remember to kiss even more girls

happy yuri night everybody

smh my head cuties like you deserve all the nice things and that's an indisputable fact.

Once again on my “I don’t deserve nice things” grind

midwestern bees midwestern bees midwestern bees

yes

oh so you want me

Am I weird for having my blog basically be my home feed? Like almost everything I get on that section I go “yea I’ll reblog that”

Does anyone care my blog is my random scatter brained nonsense?

oh boy its yearn o'clock again. Time to air out my deepest fantasies on tumbler dot com

The boiling desire in the back of my mind to be a Queen, surrounded by loyal maids and knights. To be loved unconditionally at my worst as much as at my best, to have my every little need and whim unquestioningly served, to be worshipped. To be cared for and pampered without any strings attached, simply because it's what they were made for.

and of course occasionally pound them into a submissive puddle, god forbid a woman have needs.

rb to tell prev they're being so brave right now and pat their head a little please