#yeah idk what to tag this tbh

[alastor-assists]

Fish stimboard with a shrimp, shark, and killer whale gif.

x x x x x x x x x

[offbeateurobeatmiku]

how i felt going from g witch episode 11 to episode 12

[luna-loveboop]

... smoll art?

I have a lot of feelings on the boys who wield the master sword. They seem to have a lot of issues with blame. Legend has his head on straight. Personally I blame Ghirahim for everything ever.

Words:

Blame the blade for the killing?

Or blame the one who died

Blame the one who caused it!

Or blame your own pride?

Or is it the fault

Of those who started it all

Who tore peace from the sky

[wanderingmausoleum]

the opening lines of the shadow of the erdtree trailer remind me a LOT of a certain quote from another game:

and with this in mind, i really hope that the direction they go with miquella is less like the manipulative griffith-esque archetype some people are theorizing, and more like N’s characterization in pokemon black and white: someone very intelligent and powerful but naïve, whose honest attempts at creating a better world might bring about more destruction in the end.

[dejasenti99]

psycho drama - a very specific recolor set (for tha boyz)

hello here's those recolors i couldnt shut the fuck up about last night i needed a bunch of shirts for my ocs to wear and urs can too<3

includes (incase u cant read my previews LMAO) : eros' layers - 17 swatches friday hoodie - 10 swatches nerve t-shirt - 15 swatches prey slim-fit - 15 swatches they share most swatches but theres a couple that are only for certain shirts.......its a mixed bag of band shirts and some silly graphics :-) gifs of swatches included!

just to be safe the meshes are not included. get them here: 1 2 3 4 thanks 2 @gorillax3-cc and @sewerwolfx for their lovely meshes <3 eros' shirt includes a sleeve overlay!! it works with both my recolor and the og shirt yippeeee

download them here <3 (drive)

obviously tag me if u use them and lmk if anything is wrong.........its my first time sharing recolors im shy

@sssvitlanz @alwaysfreecc

[dustbunsinspace]

Chatty boyfriend 💙💙 Quick redraw of something from last year. It was fun to see how my style changed.

💙Redbubble💙

Alts and old version under the cut 🍊;

[daiwild]

may i request a lil squip bmc

oh yeah, this guy. the squid

[lucasoliko]

Javier painting study because i haven't painted anything in months (and because i love him)

[palukoo]

shot silk studies full image/page under the cut (with a few extra i didnt like as much), click for quality :)

[oh-snapperss]

<Join Game?>

Etho stares at the message on his communicator until his eyes are nearly blurry. No. No. No. No. If he thinks too hard, his very blood is in flames, burning away himself and Joel. If he thinks too hard, Joel’s triumphant scream pierces the air along with the axe buried in his chest. If he thinks too hard, the scars on his arms turn back to the flame they once were, setting his clothing alight as he screams in agony. 

But They want blood, and who is he to deny Them? Who is he to deny protection to those he couldn’t save before? (He knows he’ll betray them to live anyway.) 

<Ethoslab joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“They want blood… gladly,” Grian’s lips twist up into a sick grin. He’s far beyond caring, and has been since he scrubbed the blood of his lover from his fingernails under the desolate, unforgiving desert sun. 

“Grian?” 

The sick smile disappears as he’s faced with the ghost that has haunted him daily since the beginning. 

“Scar.” 

“One more time?” Scar wears his own tired grin, just as sick as Grian’s, and far more bitter. 

“One more time.” 

(Is this the last time?)

<Grian joined the game

<GoodtimeswithScar joined the game> 

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?>

“Wh-now? Are you serious?” Jimmy drops the pile of wood he’d been carrying through the doorway of his empty town. “Right now?” 

There’s no response–there never is, and hasn’t been in months. All that’s left to keep him company are the tumbleweeds, blowing past him, and the mocking, empty vacation houses he’d invited the others to build in the hopes someone would come keep him company.

“Least I won’t be alone, if I go…” Somewhere, there’s laughter, a call from his rancher and respect he’d forgotten he could have. 

That’s all it takes. 

<SolidarityGaming joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“Oh, for goodness sake!” 

He tries to ignore the message for several hours, although it taunts him with every glance down to the communicator, seeing others log off Hermitcraft. Etho. Grian. Scar. Tango. Cleo. Ren. Impulse. 

No, no, not this time. He doesn’t want to go, not when he’s sure Impulse has a matching scar through his chest where Bdubs’ sword betrayed him twice-albeit, on accident the final time. Etho’s long gone–of course he’d go–and Cleo, for reasons well beyond him. Far more hours pass, before he breaks–

“...fine!” 

(He never really had a choice. He’s not proven himself beyond failing those he swore loyalty to, and he won’t rest until then.) 

<Bdoubleo100 joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

Sharp laughter fills the air, like electricity buzzing, and then-

<SmallishBeans joined the game>

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<Join Game?>

“No thanks, I’m good mate!” Mumbo shakes his head, already turning back to the flooring of his definitely full vault. 

(Although…) 

…

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?> 

“Of course, of course..” Scott chuckles slowly, as if in on some joke that nobody else could ever understand. Like others… he’s far beyond caring, and has been since the lightning arched through the trees to take him despite his supposed victory. But first… he takes his time. Makes himself a drink, watches the sun set orange. After all… the next sunset could be red. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, he turns away. 

<Smajor1995 joined the game> 

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?> 

It’s as if the fear and rage she’d felt for weeks before comes back in an instant, electrifying her. She’s typed her answer before she can even think twice about it, half blinded. Why? Why? Why did he do that? 

<PearlescentMoon joined the game>

“Hello, Scott,” she grins up at the rising sun, at the unmarred landscape around her. “Would you like to play a game?” 

[alo-piss-trancy]

For research purposes: To those into omutsu/diapers, what kind of things do you look for/enjoy seeing in fics focused on that? Anything particular you want described in detail? Any aspects you feel are often overlooked or lacking? Words or phrases you love OR can't stand?

No judgement here, sexual or non-sexual answers are both equally important for this! I'm just in need of some perspectives! :3€ Though I am looking more for info about the diapers themselves, like wearing/having them put on or seeing someone else in them, what's appealing to you in fics about that. Not necessarily their 'use' (I'm able to picture and describe that well enough I think lmao).

[m3lth3ph4nt0m]

Idk i wanted to draw hatsune miku cause i saw a lot of figurines on pinterest and i adore how the fabric looks on them <3

somewhat inspired by strawberry x miku and also sakura miku?? idk i just did something

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.

[reinerslawyer]

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN Eren in Brave Volunteers

[ciphercalamitiez]

uhhhh

Hi tumblr I’m bored have stuff I drew earlker

[straight-to-the-pain]

I don't know if anyone else in the whump community has read 'A Constellation of Vital Phenomena' by Anthony Marra but it is genuinely a really good book and also has some of the best depictions of torture and its aftermath that I have read in fiction.

I wanted to share some of my favourite quotes, hopefully without too many spoilers as it is out of context, but maybe skip this post if you don't want to know anything at all going in.

To give a brief summary, the book centres around the lives of people in Chechnya during the first and second war between the Russian government (Feds) and the separatist rebels. The main story focuses on a man (Akhmed) who is trying to save his neighbour's daughter from being killed by the Feds after her father is taken away in the middle of the night. He does this by taking her to a hospital where he then volunteers. One of the people in his village (Ramzan) becomes an informer for the Feds after being tortured, and this is explored in the excerpts below.

‘Information the Feds would torture them for was written here on the walls for all to see. It was well understood among the men that the Feds had as much sense as two bricks smashed together. It was also understood that pain, rather than information, was the true purpose of interrogation.'

'During his first detention in the landfill, in 1995, in the first war, he had refused to inform. They had wrestled down his trousers, shown him the bolt cutters, and still he had said no. Screaming, thrashing, with his manhood half severed, he had said no. He had done that, and now he was ready to start saying yes.'

'He would have confessed everything, but they didn't ask, weren't interested, threatened to cut out his tongue and put pliers to his teeth if he spoke one more fucking word. Electric wires were wound around his fingers. A car battery was drained into his bones. God might have been watching, but it wasn't God's finger on the battery switch. The interrogating officers didn't speak. Instead he was an instrument they played, performing a duet, and in their own way they conversed through his sobs. They both wore very shiny shoes. That was all he would remember.'

'He had trouble walking, He had forgotten torture could be so exhausting. The new interrogator, the one with less shiny shoes, held him upright, using his whole body as a crutch, and helped him walk. He carefully wiped Ramzan's forehead with a handkerchief before opening the door to the next room.'

'The interrogator with less shiny shoes crouched behind him. His hands were wet. Ramzan promised everything, and the interrogator, like the parent of a child too old to believe in ghosts, watched him with disappointment, his clear eyes saddened by Ramzan's sincerity. The interrogator took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, laid the live wires on Ramzan's chest and mapped the border of their shared humanity. Ramzan offered his soul. He begged to be enslaved. The known universe contracted to the limits of the cement floor, and on it, the interrogator was both man and deity, prophet and god. By ten o'clock the interrogator with less shiny shoes asked his first question. By eleven the electrical wires were unwound from Ramzan's fingers. By noon he was allowed to dress. By one he was on the FSB payroll. He kept thanking the interrogator with less shiny shoes.'

‘Greed didn’t motivate his informing, at least not primarily; primarily he informed by necessity, to survive, for his love and hate and above all awe of the power wielded by the interrogating officer with less shiny shoes.'

'That was his greatest fear. Could he stay silent? Could he withstand what awaited him? He told himself that his love for the girl should fortify him against any torture, but this, like so much of what he told himself, was a lie. After all, he was squeamish at the sight of blood, what would he say when lying in a puddle of his own? But he saw no other way. He would pray for the strength to stay silent, for a quick heart attack, and leave the rest to God.' (This is Akhmed POV)

'When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing, Akhmed. When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing. When they threatened to electrocute me, I said nothing. When they threatened to castrate me, I said nothing. I said nothing, Akhmed. Whatever you think of me, you remember that once I said nothing when a wiser man would have sung. And the interrogators, they couldn't believe it. They called in others to examine me. I was there on the floor, and above their faces were dark ovals silhouetted by the ceiling lights. They had beaten me hard and I couldn't hear right, but I kept saying no, with every breath I had. The main reason they let me go, the only reason they didn't shoot me right there was out of perverse respect, some sort of professional courtesy. But I wish they had shot me, Akhmed, because the good part of me died there, and all this, everything since, has been an afterlife I'm trying to escape.'

‘I knew what was coming. I knew it never stops. They put a shame inside you that goes on like a bridge with no end, the humiliation, the fucking humiliation of knowing that you are not a human being but a bundle of screaming nerve endings, that the torture goes on even when the physical hurt quietens. People treated me differently when I came back the first time.'