#zombie tutorial

[mttztrading]

This city's burning. It's not my burden.

Deaf West's American Idiot

[the-most-humble-blog]

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🧟‍♂️ HATE TO BURST YOUR ZOMBIE-HORDING BUBBLE (But in real life? Y’all wouldn’t be fighting zombies. You’d be laughing while smoking ‘em.)

I know. You’ve got it all planned out. Your Zombieland fantasy. Your Walking Dead cosplay lifestyle. You think when it all goes to hell, you'll become Daryl Dixon overnight with a crossbow, fingerless gloves, and a stone-cold thousand-yard stare while a horde of the undead moans outside your fortified Bass Pro Shop.

You think the power grid collapses, the government falls, and you're out here eating canned beans off a bayonet while fighting off literal corpses in a trench coat made of riot gear.

Sounds cute.

But here’s the truth: Real humans? Are good at killing. Like, insanely good at killing.

If zombies were real?

They wouldn't overrun us. We'd annihilate them so fast it’d make a wildlife conservationist cry.

🔪 REALITY CHECK #1: HUMANS ARE SERIAL KILLERS WITH A CONSCIENCE We’ve survived wolves, tigers, plagues, warlords, each other, and countless extinction events.

We built religions, bombs, and air fryers. We survived the Ice Age without pants. You think a moaning meth-head with half a jaw is going to end civilization?

Please.

If anything, humans would treat zombies like pests.

Neighborhood watch groups would turn into hunting parties. Suburbs would form kill leagues. TikTok would be flooded with #ZombTok tutorials for machete sharpening and viral trends like “How I cleared my HOA of 47 rotters in under 2 minutes.”

🔫 REALITY CHECK #2: MODERN MILITARY + 72 HOURS = GENOCIDE Let’s do the math.

Even at modest mobilization, the U.S. military has:

1.2 million active-duty troops

393 million civilian-owned firearms

6,500+ main battle tanks

Drones that can see your heat signature from space

And bunker-crushing MOABs that can turn an entire infected city block into glass.

You're telling me slow, unarmed, rotting pedestrians are going to outmaneuver trained sociopaths with night vision and air support?

Zombies wouldn’t even make it to Day 4.

🧠 REALITY CHECK #3: ZOMBIES HAVE SHIT TACTICS Let’s break down zombie strategy:

Moan

Walk toward sound

Bite if lucky

That’s it.

No stealth. No camouflage. No coordinated attacks. Just moist gurgling in traffic.

In real life, they’d be sniped, burned, tased, trapped, dumped into pits, run over, and exploited for sport within the first 48 hours.

We’d have entire YouTube channels dedicated to zombie obliteration ASMR. Merch drops. Fan cams. Season passes.

They wouldn't be "winning." They’d be streamed in 4K and monetized to death.

🏹 REALITY CHECK #4: REDNECKS, MILITIA DADS, AND DIY PSYCHOS WOULD GET BORED Every town’s got at least one guy who owns 19 guns “for raccoons,” built a bunker “just in case,” and jerks off to Joe Rogan podcasts.

You really think he’s not ready?

That dude would have the entire county cleared by breakfast and still be asking:

“So uh… when does the real war start?”

And don’t even get me started on rural communities. They’d treat the apocalypse like a church barbecue with kill scores.

🧬 OBSCURE, HORRIFYINGLY TRUE FACTS:

Genghis Khan’s forces wiped out 11% of the global population with horses, bows, and zero antibiotics.

Ants have been known to build bridges out of their dead. Humans? We built civilizations out of stacked skulls.

The average human has enough jaw strength to bite off a finger— but won’t, because society told us not to. Take away the rules? You think we won't bite back?

☣️ THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE YOU ENVISION = THE SHORTEST MASSACRE IN HISTORY Zombies wouldn’t last long enough for a plot twist. They’d be rounded up like cattle, studied, and pit-fought for betting apps.

There’d be sponsorship deals. Limited-edition zombie sneakers. Fashion lines called “Rot Couture.”

Half of Hollywood would star in zombie hunting reality shows before the midterms. Netflix would greenlight 13 documentaries and a prequel drama.

You’d be scrolling Twitter in a recliner while the last pack of infected gets bulldozed by a retired oil tycoon on Twitch.

🩸 SO WHY DO WE LOVE ZOMBIES? Because they give us permission to fantasize about clean violence. No guilt. No consequences. Just mowing down monsters that used to be your boss.

But in real life? You wouldn't be scared. You’d be desensitized by lunch.

The real horror isn't the undead. It's how efficient we are at erasing them.

🧃 TL;DR?

You want a zombie apocalypse because deep down, you want an excuse to unleash the part of yourself society made you leash.

But sorry to burst your fantasy: it wouldn’t be survival. It would be slaughter.

And humans? We’d be too good at it.

So good that by Week Two, we’d be lobbying Congress to put zombies on an endangered species list.

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📦 This post—and other brutal truth payloads—will join the vault soon. Because some fantasies need to be corrected with statistical violence and sociological fire.

The Patreon archive awaits. You're welcome.

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[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] [ All In One ] part 4, MDNI

You and Simon are eating dinner. The curtains are drawn shut, but the living room is littered with flickering candles. Their soft glow bounces off the walls and casts dancing shadows around the floor. The crackling fireplace provides a soothing background noise on an otherwise quiet evening. You nestle on the couch, feeling the softness of the plush pillows against your back as your legs cross. Meanwhile, Simon sits on the carpet, engrossed in his meal. His body is hunched over the low coffee table, his elbows placed on its wooden surface.

In your hands, you cradle a simple white bowl, its edges worn from years of use. It’s filled with a warm porridge, with the steam rising in gentle wisps from its surface. Your fingers curl around the handle of a spoon. Its metal is cold against your skin. You drag the spoon around in a slow, circular motion. With detached curiosity, you watch as the thick, brown mush whirls around in the bowl, creating an odd yet mesmerising pattern. You’ve never been one to turn your nose up at food. Especially in a world where each meal is a blessing and food scarcity is a harsh reality. Yet, right now, despite the gnawing hunger that tugs at your stomach, you can’t seem to muster the will to finish the dinner before you.

“I’m full,” you declare with a sigh. The bowl in your hands feels heavy as you set it down. The spoon clinks against the edge before sinking into the porridge.

“You barely ate anything,” Simon shoots back, his words muffled by the food in his mouth. “Finish it.”

You shake your head. Your gaze darts between him and the food; though to label it as food feels like trying to sell a pebble as a diamond.

“Not hungry.”

“Either you eat it yourself, or I’ll feed you,” he threatens, fixing his eyes on you. You study his face, trying to decipher if he is serious or not. His expression is unreadable. Yet something about his countenance tells you he isn’t joking.

“I don’t want to. It’s disgusting.”

You feel like a spoiled child refusing to eat something they don’t like. But given that your stomach refuses to cooperate, you resolve that you’ll finish this unappetising meal in the morning.

“I miss the salt. This… this—” you pick up the spoon once more, scooping a portion of the gruel, holding it up for inspection, and then turn it upside down, allowing the mush to drip back into the bowl. “… is not good.”

Simon rolls his eyes in exasperation and stands up. Holding his bowl in one hand, he sits on the couch next to you. You watch him with curiosity. When he tries to feed you, you jerk back and break into peals of laughter, shaking your head in adamant refusal.

“No, no, Simon. Please,” you keep giggling as he chases your mouth with the spoon.

Eventually, Simon concedes defeat, relenting in his pursuit after you assure him you will eat later.

“But it’ll get cold,” he points out. “It won’t taste as good anymore.”

“It already is terrible. It’s hardly possible for it to become any worse.”

Once Simon finishes eating, he tells you he has a surprise. He retrieves his worn duffel bag from the room’s corner and rummages through it. Your curiosity peaks as you watch him, wondering what he will pull out. Unable to resist, you ask him what he’s searching for, but he remains silent, increasing your suspense. Finally, his hands emerge, cradling a small, wrinkled napkin as though it’s a precious gem. He unfolds it and shows you what is in his palm: five cigarettes. You wrinkle your nose in distaste and your body recoils. You’ve never been a smoker, and to be honest, you’ve always considered it a rather nasty habit. The smell of tobacco is unbearable for you, as repulsive as the stench of rotten eggs. You’ve never actually tried it; you suspect the taste is equally off-putting.

“You’re joking, right? This is an awful surprise,” you tell him with a hint of disappointment in your voice.

Unfazed by your response, he shrugs and replies, “If you don’t want them, I’ll happily keep them all to myself.”

You nod your head.

“Where did you even find them?” You ask, puzzled because you don’t recall him ever leaving your side when you were out scavenging for supplies.

“In your brother’s room. They were hidden in the nightstand, tucked behind a pile of notebooks,” he says, standing up and walking towards the fireplace, which is still crackling with warmth. He kneels and uses the flickering flames to light one cigarette, all the while avoiding the hot pot hanging above the fire.

“My brother doesn’t smoke,” you say, rolling your eyes at his explanation. But then, a sudden realisation strikes you. You remember several instances when your brother would lock himself in his room. When he finally emerged, he and his bed would reek of cheap spray deodorant.

You can’t help but stare as Simon positions the lit cigarette between his slightly parted lips, inhaling deeply and unhurriedly. An almost ecstatic expression sweeps over his face as he savours the flavour. A sound similar to a moan or a satisfied groan escapes his mouth when he exhales. He sits on the couch and spreads his legs, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him.

Your mouth is parched. The dryness makes your throat feel rough, like sandpaper, as you attempt to swallow the saliva that has accumulated in your mouth. The once bothersome smell of smoke now seems insignificant. An ominous grey cloud hovering above your head, which you once detested for fear of its lingering nicotine scent permeating your house, fades into the background. Your gaze fixates on his lips. You notice the half-smoked cigarette precariously hanging between his index finger and thumb. In this moment, Simon exudes an irresistible allure, emitting raw, undeniable heat. Though you’ve always found him handsome, an abrupt shift occurs within you, as if a switch has been flipped. Suddenly, you see him in a new light. A desire to snatch the cigarette from him, pull him close, and kiss him sparks within you.

The sensation of heat, like a fervent flame, courses through your body. It’s an intense, unignorable feeling that causes you to curl your body tighter. Your thighs squeeze together, a subconscious reaction to the warmth spreading within you. You bite your lower teeth, sinking your canines into the soft flesh, only stopping when it starts to hurt. Suddenly, the room, which was just a moment ago cool, feels hot. The surrounding air becomes dense and heavy. It presses you down into the plush cushions of the couch. Your chest tightens, and it’s hard to breathe as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You realise that you’re behaving like a nerdy schoolgirl with a crush on a jock. But you try to rationalise that it just has been a long time since you were in the presence of a handsome guy. You tell yourself that your body’s reaction is natural.

Yet, you don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to acknowledge the feelings coursing through your veins. So, in an attempt to distract yourself, you point at the lit cigarette in his hand.

“You know, I think I’d like to give it a shot,” you say, extending your fingers towards him.

He raises an eyebrow at you. A playful smirk forms on his lips.

“I thought you don’t smoke,” he teases you and takes another deep drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for an extended period, longer than necessary, just to provoke you.

Your response is a glare, and he can’t help but chuckle at the intensity of your gaze. Still entertained, he passes the cigarette over to you. You inhale. The unfamiliar sensation triggers a coughing fit, which only causes his laugh to increase in volume. After your second attempt, it becomes obvious to him you don’t have a clue how to smoke. So, Simon decides to teach you, insisting that if you want to smoke, you at least should do it right and not waste the precious cigarettes. He positions himself in front of you, his body mere inches away from yours. With a confident gesture, he plucks the cigarette from your grasp and demonstrates how it’s done, showing you the proper way to smoke.

“Your turn,” he says, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. Instead of handing you the cigarette, he raises it to your mouth. Your lips part instinctively, as if drawn by an unseen force, and your eyes stay focused on his face. Intrigued, you watch him as his gaze travels along the contour of your lips.

“Inhale, slowly. Don’t rush,” he instructs, his voice barely above a whisper. As these words leave his lips, you feel his hand brushing lightly against your jaw. The brief contact sends shivers down your spine. You follow his instructions, and as you do so, he pulls the cigarette away from your lips. The taste of nicotine lingers on your tongue, bitter and harsh. You force yourself to suppress the instinctive urge to cough.

“Now,” he continues, “take a deep breath, let the smoke travel down your throat, feel it filling your lungs.” As you obey his command, the smoke burns in your throat. Yet you’re so focused on Simon that you barely notice the discomfort. “Hold it in for a couple of seconds and exhale. Slowly.”

As you exhale, the smoke billows out and hits his face. Simon scrunches his nose but says nothing. You both remain frozen, looking at each other, lost in a moment that seems to stretch on for an eternity. Your distraction worked, but now that it’s over, your desire to kiss him hasn’t waned. You move closer to Simon. When he doesn’t back away, you lean in further. Yet, as soon as your nose brushes against his, he pulls back and coughs. The sudden realisation of what you were about to do hits you like a wave. You blush, diverting your gaze to hide your embarrassment.

For the rest of the evening, neither of you dares to bring up the fact that you almost kissed. As you sit on the couch, side by side, your leg brushing against his from time to time, you’re both aware of the tangible tension that has settled between you. It’s a shame that the two of you stay silent because you are thinking the same thing: you shouldn’t have pulled away. He wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

[neosporinwound]

?

[fogaminghub]

🔍 Ready to conquer the Citadelle des Morts in Call of Duty: Black Ops 6? Our new guide offers amazing secrets and strategies to help you through the first 10 rounds! Master the zombies and level up your game. Join us on this adventure! 

[bevanne46]

Minecraft Custom Order Quilt –

1. Message me about your interest in this Special-Order Quilt to discuss Fabrics, Size, Colors and Backing.

Pattern Fabrics for Minecraft are shown in this listing, they will be off set with Matching Solid Colors (Solid Colors shown are just samples)

2. I will Create a Free Quote and Pattern Options.

Find More Information Here:

[customkits]

Have you ever wanted to paint oxidized copper but weren't sure how? This tutorial is what you are looking for! The tutorial is free to download, but tips are enabled. Follow along with this tutorial and see your model come to life-- or unlife, in this case!

If you want to support what I do, and help me make more of these tutorials, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi. (Ko-Fi takes about 2% of each tip). I work full-time and hobby when time permits.

Thanks for checking it out!

[holding-on-to-smoke]

inspired by true events

[mttztrading]

Wake me up when September ends.

Daniel Durant and Milo Manheim as Johnny and Voice of Johnny in Deaf West's American Idiot

[takenfromthegrave]

𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊 & 𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉, 𝖆𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉

who is this irresistible creature with an insatiable love for the dead?

♡ goopy, he/him, 22

♡ type of guy who gets killed within the first ten minutes of an 80’s horror flick

♡ welcome to my stream of consciousness

♡ sometimes i draw (#taken from the sketchbook) (my archived work is here)

♡ sometimes i read (#taken from the bookshelf)

[mywifemakesmedraw]

Neglecting my physical health? I prefer to call it "providing bad source material to the zombie apocalypse."

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

I would just like to personally thank the Zombies 3 Exceptional Zed dance tutorial for helping me stay grounded to reality during my really bad dissociative episodes. Ur a real one <3

[sinkingtime]

Could I interest you in the tutorial for Plants Vs Zombies?

[aroundtable]

Come promesso oggi in questo "solo play: a table for one" vi farò vedere una partita completa a zombie Diner, il gioco da tavolo per un giocatore che abbiamo scoperto assieme giovedì e che mi hanno mandato gli amici di Creardo. Zombie Diner è un board Game dal piccolo formato ma con una ottima profondità, un'esperienza di gioco solitaria in cui dovremmo affrontare degli zombie che si vogliono nutrire di noi all'interno di uno dei tipici ristoranti all'americana che conosciamo benissimo, grazie alle sedie televisive. Turno dopo turno, uno zombie ci assalirà ed una nuova stanza con un oggetto che ci servirà per sconfiggerlo verrà aggiunta al nostro ristorante, torno dopo turno dovremmo essere noi a decidere quale carta diventerà lo zombie e quale la stanza dell'nostro. In questo video vi farò vedere una partita completa e proverò a concentrarmi esclusivamente sul portare avanti la partita per vincerla vi rendete conto da soli che il gioco pur essendo estremamente semplice nelle meccaniche è molto sfidante, non frustrante ma sicuramente profondo insomma una ottima sfida in cui ogni partita si rivelerà combattuta, tesa e avvincente.

Zombie Diner è un gioco da tavolo, in solitaria, consigliato dai 12 anni in su con una durata stimata di 7/15 minuti creato da Davide Carcelli con illustrazioni Mathieu Loll e Marco Salogni di edito da Creardo.

[reverentwormpriest]

asuka would be musical.ly famous . she'd be working those transitions and running her account like the military. she'd gain some notoriety on vine because all her videos would just be her bullying shinji but the only comedy they have is shinji's visible descent into madness and no one knows if its a bit or not

[semisweetstuffs]

Today's topic: Easy zombie bite make-up tutorial