#//i do not condone this shit

[juliusthedressmaker]

I have returned ✨

Please, in great and very unnecessarily perfect detail, explain what you do to the victims.

Such as,

> Your process before killing

> Your process during killing

> Your process after killing

Have an amazing day, Dear.

(I call everyone dear/dearie. Please don't take offense to it and if you have a problem, please tell me.)

Ooooo!! I always love to talk about violence and torture!! :'D I may have gotten just a tad carried away talking about this, rather graphic, you know? Hm, l'll put the read more thing...

Well, first I get a victim to enter my shop. Sometimes, just a person who sees the shop and wanders in. Other times, I have a specific person in mind, and in that case, Killian or Sera will bring the victim a personal invitation from myself to the shop. And you see, no matter what, they will always come - they're already under my control from the moment I've got my sights set, you know? And I do love to have control over people, I can make them do anything and they think it's their own free will... And even funnier, they feel so safe around me and think I'm like a friend! I let them think that, I let them fall for my deception. I find it highly amusing when people think I'm harmless, or underestimate the true extent of pain and suffering I will inflict. Pain is perfection!

Now, this is the part where I kill. Once they've picked a dress, and their guard is the most down...I attack with no warning. Sometimes I like to let them fight me, they aren't doing any damage and will lose, but its fun, you know? Sometimes I fight back, other times, I just let them kick me around until I become bored of it. Don't act surprised that I like and enjoy to be getting kicked around and beaten -- pain is perfection, both inflicting it on others and having it inflicted upon myself. I just really love pain.

Anyways, once I've had my fun, I'll pistol whip them upside the back of the head, hard enough that I knock them out. I always carry my pistol, yes, and I am a very, very good shot as well as known to be very trigger happy if my mood isn't great or I'm feeling pestered. But that's a different type of killing, shooting people. Right now, Id rather focus on how I torture people to death.

So, once they're knocked out, I carry them to my work room. I'll chain them down on the surgery table. Once I've gotten to this point, I don't waste much time. I'll do numerous lines of coke and have a cigarette, then i get to work.

Work meaning, I begin with skinning parts of their body - the skin will be turned to leather and made into a corset for the next dress... Just as the victims corset, is human leather from the last to suffer to death, courtesy of my dainty, pretty, and deathly clawed hands :3

Usually, at this point, the person wakes up but if they haven't still, it's time to start shooting them up with meth. See, I HAVE to be the center of attention CONSTANTLY, because that's just the way it is! And my victims need to be alert in order to give me that attention while I'm torturing them to death. Naturally, shooting them up with meth is the obvious choice. I don't use meth, well, not often. But I might be a little high now...heh.

Anyways, I have fun inflicting pain, slowly and methodically while sewing the dress on their bodies. Watching the suffering, going on for hours and hours...it's so delightful. If you want me to be blunt, I'll put it this way: violence makes me horny. Sometimes I have to take a break torturing my victim to go take care of, well, you know..heh.

Of course, after they're dead, and their body is no longer warm, hmm... well, I really, really, really enjoy corpses.

Mhmm, I could talk about this ALL day but...I need to do something

:)<3

[wynsomeart]

more old sally face art :)

[genericpuff]

There's a user going around currently reblogging/commenting on antiLO content with the intent of "digging up dirt" on people who simply read and enjoy the comic. Basically demanding the OP's of such posts to inform them of any 'stans' so they can add them to a 'list' that they absolutely do not have any good intentions to do with, along with making some very unsavory and completely unwarranted comments about the fans in general (and I don't mean the usual "lmao LO fans are weird/dumb/etc." stuff, I mean genuinely cruel wishes to have the fans of the comic doxxed/harmed/etc.) I have blocked this user for obvious reasons, and if you get a similar reblog or DM like I did from this person, I hope you'll do the same.

Please do not play into this. As much as I and many others talk shit about this dumpster fire of a comic and its questionable if not outright controversial writing and messaging, none of us have any right to go after any of the fans or stans directly. At best that would just be proving to the fans who already hate this part of the fandom that we're boogeymen out to get people, at worst it would be a betrayal to our own integrity as human beings who should be capable of discussing media without turning it into a harassment campaign. Making shitposts about the media and the fandom is fine, discussing the media itself and the creator who made it within our own little spaces of the Internet is ultimately harmless so long as it's managed within reason, but deliberately going out of your way to dig up personal information on innocent people within the fandom for the purpose of ruining their life is not okay and if you ever get to that point where you're trying to rationalize going after people directly, you need to log off.

[flanik]

tumblr wont let me post this in its original mp4 version (which was the only available format for ibis)

so i had to use flipaclip to turn it into a gif

[daniclaytcn]

i don't condone violence but i do enjoy in how every still we've seen of buck/eddie/tommy, buck looks like he's fantasizing about punching tommy in the face i love you you insane fucked up little man

[bitchfitch]

I got home from the hospital last night. I can't sit upright or really walk anywhere bc of vertigo and the numbness in my legs is worse than it was before but that's suspected to pass within the next few days.

that's not the point of this post tho. when I got home I was out of my skull on the nerve pain medicine and panicking bc I am. unhealthy emotionally dependent on my cat Changuita Prime and couldn't check on her since she can't really get on the bed on her own. (Manx syndrome).

She doesn't like being on the bed either, she knows she can't get down again and doesn't like her movement through the apartment to be that constrained, but I needed her so my father put her in bed with me.

she stayed beside me the entire night. my arms are bruised from her making biscuits. She usually gets bored after a few minutes and stands at the edge of the bed meowing for help getting down.

Its the first time she's done that since she was little, I think she knows on some level that I'm sick and need her right now.

[autisticlancemcclain]

It has been many, many days since Lance has seen his bed.

Actually, he’s not sure how many days it’s been since he’s seen his dorm, either. Probably more than four. What he has right now is the app Pidge made him for his birthday, where he can input several alarms in advance and thus set up reminders for every single one of his classes and assignments et cetera, and empty can of Redbull, and an equally empty wallet.

He looks blankly at the vending machine in front of him, in the dilapidated old hallway in the science building. The lights in the machine are long broken, so the clearest thing he can see in the dark glass is his own reflection. He looks busted as hell — there are more bags under his eyes than actual eyes, his hair is a logic defying mix of flat and greasy and frizzy beyond gravity, his skin seems to almost sag, and there’s a grey quality to him, as if he’s a cartoon in a black and white TV show. Tired does not begin to cover it.

Midterms are hell.

“C’mon,” he mutters, wrapping his hands around the sides of the machine and shaking slightly.

More people die per year from being crushed to death by vending machines then via shark attack.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut. The image of his Marine Bio II textbook and all its dorky fun fact graphics still burns behind his eyelids. He’s read it so many times at this point that he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to forget it.

“Please,” he says again, half begging and half praying. To what he doesn’t know. The vending machine, probably. He honestly cannot remember the last thing he ate. It was probably takis, but. Still. He needs sustenance again. Preferably the kind that is less than two dollars and he can eat while filling out calculus problems.

He fumbles with the little flap at the base of the machine, managing to tug it open on the third try and stick his arm in it. He stretches, managing to brush his fingertip on the corner of a dust-covered Snickers, but can’t quite manage to tip it out of its little cell.

He sighs, resting his forehead on the glass. He’ll just — close his eyes, maybe. For three seconds. His alarms will go off twenty minutes before class starts, so it’s fine. And no one even comes into this hallway so it’s not like he’ll get robbed, or anything. Not that he has anything to rob.

Rest. Just a little one. If he can’t get snacks he’ll rest. It’s fine. He doesn’t need to study for the next few minutes anyway. He can afford one or two percent on his midterm. Probably. Or not, but that’s a Future Lance problem. Present Lance needs to power off for half a second.

He registers, vaguely, the sound of rumbly growling accompanied by heavy footsteps coming from behind it, but dismisses it easily. He’s gone at least half a week without sleep. He knows science. It’s hallucination time. It’s not his first and it won’t be his last. He’s been hearing pterodactyl roars periodically for the last six hours. It’s whatever. It’ll chill out by the time he opens his eyes again.

The footsteps stop, and Lance sighs a little, and then the vending machine moves as if shifted, and Lance thinks, huh.

Then the sound of glass shattering echoes in the dusty hallway, and Lance thinks, louder, h u h.

And then Lance opens his eyes, blinking away the grogginess, a — person stands in front of him, dressed in the dweebiest GI Joe meets James Bond outfit of all time, seven foot four, covered in purple fur. Fangs protrude from his mouth. His ears are massive and fluffy. His sclera are yellow.

He holds out, in clawed hands, a bag of takis, pulled from a hole punched clean through the old glass.

Huh, Lance thinks, for the third time.

Slowly, because what the fuck, Lance reaches out and grabs the offered snack. In the three seconds it takes for the snack to travel from the stranger’s hand to his, he decides, whatever. It’s been a long period of time. He is thinking half in math. He is starving. He did not, technically, steal these takis, so there’s not even an issue morally. There’s not an issue anywhere, really. It’s a non-issue.

“Thanks,” he says, muffled from the eight chips he’d immediately shoved in his mouth at once.

The person (he’s a person, probably, right, he got him takis, non-people don’t generally get people takis) makes some kind of — growling noise, at him, but not a scary one. A fairly neutral one, if Lance had to categorize it.

Or maybe he’s wrong and he’s about to get eaten. Who knows. That’s an issue, once again, for Future Lance.

“I’m Lance,” Lance says, sticking out his non-chip dust covered hand to shake.

The person brightens, grabbing Lance’s hand and shaking it so vigorously it nearly pops out of its socket. He garbles something in what Lance assumes is French, too fast for him to make out. He must be an exchange student. Lance would usually try to strike up a conversation, ask how he’s liking it here — he knows how hard it can be, struggling with a new language in a new country — and he even took a semester of French in high school, and it’s decently similar to Spanish, so he could probably keep up with the guy.

But Lance is probably medically brain dead, at this point. Thoughts outside of practice exam questions are just…so hard.

“I’m gonna call you Keith,” Lance says (because someone at the local starbucks has a thing for Keith Richards so those are the only songs in his head right now. The matching mullets also come into play).

Keith offers no protest.

Lance’s alarm goes off in his back pocket, startling him. He pops the last taki in his mouth, wiping the dust on his jeans, and swipes open his phone, reading the notification. Physics tutorial in twenty minutes on the other side of campus. Oh, he knows that one. The TA is a ninety year old retired air force pilot who sits at the front of the classroom with a random tangentially-related-to-class-material wikipedia article open on his phone and reads out loud when he finds something interesting. Finally, Lance can nap.

“Well, Keith,” Lance says, crumpling up his package and tucking it in his pocket. “I appreciate the chips. You cannot understand how much. I’m gonna head to class. See you around?”

He pats the guy’s shoulder as he walks past him. Or, well, tries, he ends up kind of tapping his upper bicep because lordie the man is tall. Keith doesn’t say anything back, but Lance isn’t really paying any attention to him anymore, as rude as that is. There’s this one cupboard, in his physics class, in the very back corner, and there’s a space in between it and the wall that he just barely fits in between, right on top of a heating grate. It’s heaven. It might even be more comfortable than his dorm bed, not that he can remember what that feels like. Ha. He’s so looking forward to it. This nap is going to hit so hard. He can feel it in his bones. He’s gonna nap through physics, then stop at the cafe in between the building and the library, espresso up, and study until close. And then his last midterm at six thirty tomorrow morning. And then he can collapse in bed and stay there for four days. Freedom is so close.

As he hauls ass to the classroom, slipping and sliding on the icy November sidewalks, he catches someone following him out of the corner of his eye. Like the footsteps from earlier, this is not the first time he’s seen this. When he looks he’s sure there’s going to be nothing there.

But…earlier there was something. With the footsteps. So. What does he know.

He looks.

As he half-expected, Keith is following him.

“Do you…need something?” Lance asks, tilting his head curiously. Now that he’s had some food and is less out of it, Keith looks a lot more normal. He’s still absolutely stupid tall, but the purple fur and giant ears he’d been convinced he’d seen are no longer there. His skin is pale, now, fuzz-free, and while his nails are a little long, they certainly aren’t claws. When he smiles, his teeth are still sharper than what Lance would call normal, but not fangs. Probably.

Keith shrugs. He has a certain look in his strange, indigo eyes that remind Lance of his dog back home, following him to the door with her leash in her mouth, expecting to be taken along.

“It’s a boring class,” Lance warns. “And I’m gonna sleep, man. The whole time.”

Keith doesn’t seem bothered. He simply takes a step forward so he’s beside Lance instead of behind him, even reaching down and grabbing his hand.

Lance glances down at their clasped fingers. He asks his brain if it has to power to analyze how that makes him feel. It responds that it does not. He resolves to handle it later, deciding to just go with it for now.

“You’re a strange guy,” Lance mumbles, walking them both to the class. He wonders if this is how people regularly act in France. Probably. He’s never been. Regardless, though, Keith is nice enough to offer a shoulder for Lance to sleep on when he finds his beloved corner occupied with some kind of new equipment. His shoulder is quite soft.

Lance thinks he might be able to get used to Keith.

��——

based on this post

[sluttylittleslashers]

College Professor Bots♡

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

♡Albert wesker || college professor

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♡Kylo ren|| college professor

♡Luis Serra || college professor

[akutagawa-fan-page]

Dogs are such interesting creatures, they're treated like they're so much less than human but then humans are compared to them for any number of qualities. Like when they're abused.

Abused dogs lash out, they bite first even if the one they're biting at is someone they care for. Rather attack than trust that this time they won't be hurt.

They do follow orders though.

-E

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

It did strike me today in light of all the discussion about “Cassandra” how time and again Taylor’s been accused of things or had her claims dismissed or ridiculed only to eventually be proven right amidst deafening silence, and that the silly ~tea~ from the Ice leaked texts is yet another example of it because it confirmed the Karma collab long predated the MH situation even though she was accused of using Ice as cover for the whole ~scandal~ when it was finally released and idk. (Even though it’s obvious it would have had to have been recorded long before because it takes months to plan and execute these things.) Again she just isn’t given the benefit of the doubt other artists do or the grace when the accusations lobbed against her are disproven. “Do you believe me now?” Indeed.

[juliusthedressmaker]

Hi Julius, it's me again!

So, you make dresses and other clothing out of your victims right, and just with the skin? I was wondering what you do with the rest of the body? Also, isn't human skin/leather very thin for clothing?

-anon☆

I sew dresses directly on my victims to make them perfect! I skin the parts of their bodies that will be hidden anyway, and that's what I use to make the leather, you know?

Yes, it's certainly a difficult fabric to work with at first, you have to learn how to properly make it and how to make sure it's as sturdy as possible. It wasn't something I perfected over night, you know? Years of trial and error. However, the thinness of it can come in handy, making it easier to work with when you want much more fitted clothing. It's really all about the techniques and skill of the maker - a properly skilled artist and craftsman can make a masterpiece with whatever materials in front of them, you know?

As for the rest of the bodies, they are simply my mannequins. I cut their heads off. And use them to display the perfect dress I sewed on them, I made them perfect, so I should show it off! I used to try to keep their heads on, to make them like dolls, but tch, so many people are such a lost cause in the face when it comes to perfection. Plus, I really like doing the decapitation... I do have one perfect doll I made though...the first I made. Annabella.

:)<3

[dykedvonte]

why do you hate Joshua Graham or Honest Hearts so much?

This DLC and character represents a bigger issue with fandom spaces I have but particularly fallout fandom in general.

Fallout tends to tackle a lot of topics controversial and not. The first two games it’s heavy cause they are the most satirical and direct with how anti-war, nationalism and etc… they are. 3 loses this as it’s very clear once you play or learn about all the games that Todd and a bunch of guys at Bethesda just liked the 50s post apocalyptic aesthetic and refuse to actually critique the ideals of the time period like the earlier titles.

New Vegas is the game that really gets back into it a degree it almost seems like it’s taking too much on. There are things done exceedingly well while other things are done horribly wrong . I’ve made posts about it before and plan to make a big series of posts (it’s a lot of writing) but my biggest gripe is with Honest Hearts and all the gross and white savior esque depictions it has of indigenous peoples. The entirety if FNV does not do the injustices faced by indigenous people correctly on any count. My two biggest complaints are with the Khans and the tribes in Zion but I’ll talk about the former on a different post.

Both characters of Daniel and Joshua are the most accurate depiction of white saviors I’ve seen and I hate how the DLC tries to justify and defend them. The DLC treats Joshua like this man who has repented for his past actions when he is just retracing his steps after his cruelty bit him in the ass. He was one of the worst parts of the Legion and it is all but explicitly stated that if you don’t force him to be non-violent he will turn the tribes of Zion into the legion 2.0. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are horribly infantilized by both Daniel and Joshua who both use them for self serving purposes guised by religious duty. The White Legs are the horrible stereotype of violent and savage indigenous and I personally think a lot of their interlinking with Ulysses, his hair and Ulysses character in general are distasteful and very telling of how BIPOC or POC where involved.

But outside of the game it’s the weird obsession people have with these characters ideologies and trying to make them seem more interesting/philosophical than they are. Tumblr is an echo chamber and many fans of Fallout are not the people on this site. Many people are not educated in the issues these characters convey and how poorly they do or used these characters as a poor introduction for their takes. Contrary to what a lot of people believe in, fallout has a prediomeny white cis male fanbase. More importantly a large portion of the fanbase is white.

You can joke how FNV made you trans or see the numbers on post/fics or diverse headcanons but these are kiddy numbers compared to the millions that consume the franchise and aren’t in those more aware spaces or don’t engage in the spaces the same way someone like me does/has to. Their views shape a lot more than people realize and it’s exhausting to be in a space where people don’t correct the more subtle yet toxic aspects of it but also adopt them into some weird quirky view point on the characters or issues. Some people don’t realize and some people don’t care.

My main issue is just the idolizing of these sort of thing in this fandom space and people try to acts like a game like fallout whose tagline is “War never changes” and has never had a game not revolve around political or militaristic factions issues isn’t that deep or doesn’t relate to real issues. I think it’s mainly caused by how over powered you can become and how you can strong arm your way past these learning moments as majority of people who play this game do play it as a power fantasy where they can do so as they please (which of course, go ahead it’s fun) but never take in parallels or lessons in the story as if it was just another first person shooter.

Also like another personal gripe is Cazadores spawn like hell whenever I’m there and I have not found a mod that works to mod them out so I have to play Indigenous Racism the DLC while getting jumped by giant wasps WHILE helping Mormons. Like I cannot catch a break.

[d34rrumiruu]

i dont know what i did but i think its cool!!

this is still a concept but i hope its cool enough for you guys 😔😔

so i made this little doodle to show a demo of what I've done so far!!

This Alternative Multiverse takes place post-truce between Nightmare and Dream!!

So this ver. of blueberry is him being a teen that is a big hardcore fan of swap sans!!! because swap is like super strong and a lot of people look up to him, blueberry adores swap and really wants to be his closest and bestest friend and wants to know literally everything about swap!! (that's when it gets weird) so uhm, he stalks swap to get to know him a lot more and one by one executes swap's friends, relatives, and teammates in order to get closer to him and try being his #1 comforter when he's sad about one of them. swap eventually finds out that blueberry was the one doing this and of course, gets mad. they fight a little bit but blueberry has studied swap's fighting style and ends up killing him.

thanks for reading hehe and feel free to leave criticism and ideas for this silly!!

have this lil doodle of him offering you totally-not-poisoned butterscotch pie :3

Note; I do NOT condone to the actions that this character does!

[mindisinmars]

watching zero day and holy shit!!! gender envy is real!!

[anchored-nyctophilia]

my roman empire is the cool girl monologue from gone girl

[vonclosen]

vent. sorry i’m honesty hangry and upset

actually i’m still annoyed. has anyone in this damn fandom heard of filtering tags. for shit. they don’t like

also like not to be ‘what about’ but seriously if your biggest problems are fucking shipping wars on tumblr dot com i envy you. truly.