#but for now ur getting slop

[3brig]

the blakes there are 7 of them

[delightedchips]

about the timebomb healing period ..

particularly interested in the idea of ekko also struggling to adjust having returned back to the current universe so suddenly and being whiplashed by a lot of things like the scar & sevika team up 😭 (i assume anw by how casual the two pop in tgt during the recruit meeting) it does offer a neat foundation of a shared sorrow of some kind between timebomb .. jinx watching him pour so much of himself taking care of her and also catching glimpses of him when he's away struggling to digest all the happenings of the firelights during his absence, grieving heimerdinger, rebuilding a semblance of a relationship with sevika, seeing the current dissipation of the tree, getting bombarded by news of an upcoming war and still having a big chunk of his heart to help jinx, making sure she's eating, her bed is warm, water is always ready .. a boy of many burdens ..

maybeee. the sadness cycles back to jinx because the sight of it all tugs her heart to guilt (maybe even anger) and she has this sudden urgency to save him from what hes committing to by taking her in . a part of her actually wants this second chance but she still doubts ekko understands who she really has become and desperately wants assurance that he does . But instead of asking for it she opts to try and convince him to give her up again via rashing out in cold-hearted anger . with the outcomes of either ekko actually giving up (which, in turn, to jinx, 'saves' him. which is viewed good! ekko doesn't deserve another burden. ekko deserves the 'truth'. at least to jinx) or, ekko not giving up (which, in turn, to jinx, assures her. affirms she is still worthy of love at all even at this point. maybe it's not too late. but jinx won't admit how appealing it all actually sounds or how she would much prefer that outcome).. I don't think ekko would react w comfort .. i want to think he'd break too . All the rage cracking thru .. but in the end he still chooses to pursue this path .. something something

A shared sorrow . Kinda. A cycle of sadness . Kiiinda. Just two broken people trying to figure it out .. carrying a semblance of a want to save the other but each of their efforts costing a part of themselves

[loderlied]

one thing about tales of arise sucking major ass is that at least i can appreciate my faves of the series that much more through the contrast lmao

[skhardwarevers1]

so like I found some hotliner related thing when digging through the archives of old content I have???

I’m guessing I just felt like screwing around with text to speech some day,,,,,

not sure what the goal was but here. Take what calling the hotline would’ve sounded like

[reel-fear]

All Bendy fans who have been mean to Poppy Playtime need to apologize rn. Also if u like Bendy ur not allowed to dislike Poppy Playtime Chapter 4-

[tytonnidaie]

this girls' night we will be romanticising grief. no we will not be moving on. not even a little bit. the grief will be all you see forever. what could have been beautiful is just another monument

[nvuy]

(new to Tumblr, sorry in advance) but can we get more gentle Sunday? Like, the way he looks at us through his gentle gaze is too much man idec if it's smut or normal I want to see him ignoring reader's teasing/playful tendencies even if we are a little shit

-IA

paparazzi — sunday

summary. aeons forbid mister sunday has a secret private life outside of being the head of the oak family. it just so happens it might be a bit more promiscuous than originally let on.

notes. IA possibly sent me this six months ago. excuse my unexplained lack of content. more may be coming, not sure. come get ur slop.

warnings. gopher wood appears for five seconds.

The Head of the Oak Family almost keeled over on top of his desk the day it was brought to his attention that his name was topping the popularity charts on every site in Penacony. His face was plastered as the preview image on every article attached with his name. 

That wouldn’t have been so bad in itself if the picture wasn’t of him ‘sucking face’ — as The Penacony Tribune so eloquently put it — with a ‘dazzling stranger’ — as Inquirer so eloquently put it — on the ‘whimsical night celebrating yet another successful Charmony Festival’ — as Republicony so eloquently put– 

Sunday almost heaves as he swipes off the news article. His photo stares back at him on the millions of other sites covering the topic. 

It wasn’t any sort of assumption either; the photo was clearly of Sunday, no doubt about it there. Same coloured hair, the distinctive six feathered wings that curled around his ears that not many other Halovians possessed. 

He’d been spotted prior in photos with Robin, who was dressed just as prettily as him on that night, being special guests and important Penacony figures, and so even if his face was obscured in the image he would have been recognised by his clothing. 

The ‘dazzling stranger,’ however, not so much. 

They were dressed like all of the other staff in simple black pants and the white apron. Thankfully, their face was completely obscured by shadows, some of Sunday’s face due to the angle, and the branches hanging from where the mysterious photographer had snuck the picture. 

Sunday wasn’t sure whether this was a blessing or a curse, however. On one hand, they’re safe from the backlash. On the other hand, it only encourages the journalists to play guessing games on who the mysterious person really is. 

There is an entire article featured already on the list of potential suspects, but thankfully, none of them were correct. 

Sunday sits at his desk with his phone burning hot and running low in his hand. He doesn’t want to continue scrolling, but his fingers swipe and swipe and swipe and every article makes him feel sicker and sicker. 

His stomach churns and he opens his messages. 

Ignoring the streams of notifications from work partners, colleagues and his own father, his thumb hovers over your contact. He opens your messages and hesitates. 

You haven’t sent him anything since two hours before he saw you that night. It was a simple “see u there beautiful” that made his heart hammer that night. 

Even now, as his fingers tremble over the keyboard, his face reddens. Nerves spike heavy in his heart like needles made of lead as he thinks on it. And then he thinks, and thinks, and thinks and thinks and thinks—

He quickly turns his phone off when there is the flap of a wing and a raven perches onto his shoulder, light and soft. The feathers rustle against Sunday’s own, and perhaps once that feeling was comforting to him when he was just a boy. Now, it does nothing but make his heart stop.

The bird speaks, “you’ve made a fool of yourself.”

Sunday stammers for a moment. And then, he answers, “it won’t happen again.” It’s a phrase he’s said many times, and he hasn’t been proud each time he has uttered it. In fact, bitterness seeps at the base of his throat when he whispers, and his stomach stirs. Tears prickle behind his eyelids, but he holds his breath.

“Another empty promise,” the bird comments. “You offer a lot of them.” 

“It will not happen again,” he repeats, this time with a steady voice. 

“I would hope so,” the bird says. “You are fully aware this next Charmony Festival will be–”

There is a timid knock at the door. Three taps of the knuckle on the wood on the other side ring through loudly, and the raven’s wings bristle instinctively. It halts its speech as the door is silently pushed open.

Sunday stiffens for a moment. It’s polite to announce yourself, or to ask permission to step into his office, for colleagues or guests alike. Not many people just invite themselves in. 

“Hi.” There’s the familiar click of short heels as Robin inches through the crack in the door and shutting it securely behind her, making sure nobody had seen her wander in. She’s wearing one of Sunday’s old sweaters he grew out of, and her hands are covered in blue and red ink. 

Sunday breathes a sigh of relief.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes flitting to the bird on his shoulder. She nods once in greeting. “Father.” 

He pays her no mind. “You are grown now. You are to deal with the press yourself tonight.” 

The bird merely hums before the weight is lifted off and the raven leaves behind a purple feather as it takes flight out of the office window from whence it came. 

Robin hums worriedly, and there’s a frown on her lips as she watches the bird depart. “I came to check on you.” 

Sunday’s lips twitch upwards into a smile. “What for?” 

She sits down on one of the chairs opposite his desk and pulls it forward. “Well, you’re all over the news.” 

Ah. Sunday grins uneasily. “It will subside.” He glances down at the empty papers awaiting filling on his desk. He hasn’t touched them since the minute before he started receiving frantic messages last night.  

Since then, he hasn’t slept. 

It won’t subside. It never will. This is a permanent scar on his reputation, his image, his entire work he’s put into this position. This person he’s made of himself is tattered and ruined, and he guarantees if he steps outside of his office and trudges into Aideen Park, his photo will be broadcasted on every screen visible in the area.

Robin rests her elbows on the desk. “I was gonna tell you that.” She taps her nails against the wood. “It might be a big deal now, but everyone gets bored of the same old news eventually. In a week, everyone will forget. They’ll move onto something else.” She looks up at him. “But…” 

Sunday raises his brows. 

She raises hers in return and leans back in the chair. “You never told me you found someone. Never thought anyone would be into something as ugly as you.”

He opens his mouth but nothing rolls off his tongue like it usually does. Instead, he quickly shuts it. He swallows hard. 

“It’s not–” 

His phone rings. Again. He has ignored most of the incoming calls today, but this ringtone is different, and Robin notices that too. 

She looks down at his phone on the desk with a sparkle in her gaze. “‘S that them?” 

He does not have to look down at the contact number. “Yes.” His fists clench nervously. “It’s not a relationship. It’s–”

“–Complicated, I’m sure,” she finishes over the ringtone. She stands up nonetheless. “You should answer it. It might make it less complicated.” 

Sunday hums. His thumb hovers over the decline button. 

Only when she arrives at the door she reminds him, “I’m here if you need to talk.” 

She knows he won’t, and even he knows he won’t, but he thanks her anyway, and she closes the door behind her. 

Sundays waits for a while. So long, in fact, that he’s missed your call, and you’ve sent him a quick “hi beautiful. call me back when u can” that makes his heart lurch in his throat. 

And weakly, Sunday returns your call. 

*ೃ༄

The ceremony was but ten minutes away from starting, and it was him and his alone who would be opening with the welcoming speech, and then sticking around afterwards.

He’d much rather go home and scream into a pillow.

Even now, as he stands behind the curtains of the stage, he picks at his gloves and pinches the material around his fingers. He’s already broken a nail from scratching idly at his desk when the tics in his stomach grow too restless, and it catches against the cotton.

He’s supposed to go out there to commence the second night of the festival, and yet his palms are sweating, and his face is pink and white all over in splotches like spilled speckles of paint, and– 

“Ooh. Someone’s nervous.” 

Sunday stiffens, though it’s barely visible. He’d been wrong to assume he was alone for the time being. Backstage has been presently empty aside from a few workers who’d given him curt nods in passing. It was humiliating to even pretend that nothing was wrong, but it was all he could do. 

Sunday turns quickly. 

You pop your head out from one of the side curtains. “Did I scare you?” 

His wings flutter instinctively when your hands reach outward to rest on his shoulders, fingers running just short of the base of his lowest pair of wings. 

Spiders crawl up his throat and Sunday peers behind to check for anyone else that may be passing by. 

“How did you get back here?” he asks worriedly. 

You glance to the left. “I have a key. I work here, remember?” You tap at your badge, the word ‘ESCORT’ printed beneath your name. “We have to talk.” 

“Can it wait?” Sunday glances behind him again. “I’ll be–” 

“Really quickly,” you interrupt. You pop behind the curtain for a second and he hears something rustling. “I wanted to say sorry for… well, everything.” Your poke your head out and offer him a white box. 

Sunday gingerly takes it and lifts the flap. 

Inside is two giant slices of strawberry shortcake, adorned with frothy white cream and strawberry slices sitting neatly atop in rows of three. They look delicious, but also identical, and Sunday’s wings flutter once.

“Made it for you.” 

He glances up.  

“You can eat them later.” You hum in amusement. “I know you like strawberry.” 

He closes the lid and sets the box aside gently on a nearby table. “I don’t remember telling you that.” 

You follow him silently after zipping the curtain shut. “You didn’t. I just assumed from your lip balm.” 

“My lip balm?” 

“Mhm.” You lean forward and press your lips to his quickly. 

Sunday reels back.

He watches your tongue lick at your bottom lip before you smack your lips together to annoy him. “Strawberry.” 

Sunday refuses to make a show of scrubbing the fluster off of his face. If he’s to touch his face, then he has to fix his hair, and then his shirt, and then his pants, and then–

“Hey.” 

He hasn’t even realised your cold hands have moved to soothe his burning cheeks. 

“I know I kinda made your life harder with this whole… rendezvous…” Your thumb nail traces the outline of his lip, collecting smudged shine of his lip balm. “Maybe when you finally quit this suckish job I can live my dream sucking at Mister Sunday’s face out on the streets.” 

Sunday knits his brows together.

The back of your knuckles finds one of his wings and you follow the plush feathers idly. 

Nervously, his eyes search around the room again. 

“There’s nobody here,” you remind him. 

“That’s what we assumed last t–” 

You kiss him then, partly to shut him up, and it seems to do the trick just fine. 

Sunday can’t fight the way he instantly melts in your embrace. His knees almost give out as your knuckle twists into the base of his stiffened wing. His heart pounds ridiculously quickly in his chest, so much so he feels horrifically sick and dizzy, like he could die right there, and he’d be okay with it. 

He returns your affections as best he can with what strength he still has. His grips tight onto your arms and he all but pushes his face closer to your lips. The tip of his nose squishes against the side of yours and his wings flutter beneath your fingers. He feels you pluck a loose, overgrown feather from the base.

You pull away. 

When he gives chase, you tap his feather against his lips. “I’ll give you the rest of the shortcake tonight.” 

Sunday blinks once, twice. Then, he swallows whatever pride remains in his heart and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “Then I look forward to your visit.”

You reach upwards and pinch his nose. “Now go do your sucky job.” 

Since you told him to.

“I’ll wait for you, Mister Sunday,” you promise him with a grin. “I’ve got time.”

Sunday scoffs playfully. “I’ll be in this position for a long time.”

“Yep. Even if you’re all old and wrinkly, I’ll still give you kisses.” You point at him. “Promise.”

“Mhm.” He can be playful if he wants to, you notice. “Then I look forward to the day.”

Your heart stammers.

He notices your cheeks darken with blood.

You laugh and almost trip over your own feet. Then, you raise him a mock salute and disappear around the corner.

Sunday knows he won’t be seeing you for a while. Not while he’s stuck as Head, anyway.

But still, his chest fills with warmth at the idea that one day—and maybe that day will never come. Maybe he will die before he ever gets the chance to really meet you again—you will be there. And he’ll let his feet drag him towards you so he can feel your hands in his. It’s a pull, like a magnet.

He knows patience.

So, he’ll wait. He’ll wait as long as he has to until he has you again.

[strongermonster]

so my nana is in her late 80's (88? i think?) and i'm up taking care of her right now, and because she's old as the hills she basically eats nothing, so any time she has a craving or a request, we do it for her just to get some food in her.

today for dinner she wanted... plain tuna and cottage cheese, but can't handle a lot of food, so i gave her about 1/4 of a can of tuna and 2 tablespoons of cottage cheese and she was SO happy with it, but when i was making it i felt so complicit in elder abuse 😭 like if someone handed this to ur gramma in a home, it'd be on cbc as barbaric and i'd be arrested 😭😭😭

like this is cat food for a 21 year old dying animal. i felt so ashamed handing her this plate of slop 😭 but she said it was perfect and hit the spot

[kodeeffa]

As someone who's currently at his fattest and losing control and getting worse and fatter everyday, ur my biggest problem. Your reblogs, your asks, the feeling of knowing a girl like you would make me so obese so fast that it'd ruin my life, making me not be able to ever walk again, addicted to this fetish and clogging my body with the most disgusting slop, a girl who'd see me, a young boy full of potential to live and enjoy life, and you would give me a heart attack and destroy everything about me, i love that so much, id love to talk with you

Oh sweetheart I wouldn’t ruin your life. You are right though.. you have potential and you certainly will enjoy life. You have potential to be one of the biggest hogs and I’m certain you’d enjoy your life being one. You’re meant to grow. You’re meant to give up your mobility in exchange for gorgeous fat rolls and all of my attention. Slop is so delicious how could you not want it or be okay with a little bit of a risk of heart failure? Besides that’s all so far away to even worry about. Now, let’s get you a gainer shake going with extra butter.

[softpine]

i know ur not a gameplay simmer but.. thoughts on the new lovestruck trailer? (that dropped at the same time as phils video so i just watched it ajfkwkfkwj)

lmaooo i got that ts4 notification while i was watching phil's video and i was mad as fuck because it covered the screen while dan was holding phil so i had to skip back. no hope for me at all fjskjds

anyway i did just watch the trailer!! now that i pirate all the packs i honestly don't care what slop they put in these packs because it'll be free for me, but idk how they get away with charging so much for so little.... every gameplay feature they showed can already be achieved with the club features in get together (from 2015!!!! 2015!!!!!!!!!!!!) or simple mods that have been around since the dawn of time. but ea is going to keep dragging ts4's bloated corpse on a rope behind them until there is literally nothing left but bones

also i can't imagine anything more unappealing than trying to date ts4 townies in their natural state 😭

oh but this girl from the trailer reminds me so much of the very first sim i made for ts4 when the game came out ;-; which like. i have to laugh because this is the most generic sim ever. but she was very very distantly related to rosie so everyone say hiiiii to a camellia ancestor:

and finally can i just say that this disturbs me on a molecular level. this imbues a deep sadness in me. this is what straight people do when their marriage is crumbling and they're clinging onto it with everything they have

[chihirolovebot]

HIIII SRY NOT RLLY AN ASK also sincerely sorry for the sheer yap quantity glued 2 this its a little embarrassing. I can’t stand to be mysterious im too excited rn

I very feverishly read all of sleep awake over the last two daysish? And I’m rolling around going insane right now. I have not even THOUGHT abt the Danganronpa franchise since middle school. I haven’t read a /reader fic since EVER!!!! Lots of firsts. I found this bad boy by chance and ooou it’s been so wildly in my head ever since im clawing at the walls. The way u write is so captivating; u breathe soo much LIFE into these characters which is rlly funny since they’re all out here dying everywhere. Wishing u the best of luck with everything ur up to and I hope u can get a fat nap in soon!!! Or something equally relaxing. Now take this slop off my hands

Had a lot of fun making a character to insert as y/n!! Spent every second reading wanting to put him in a blender.. idk much about him visuals-wise but he’s definitely stupid tall. He’s a streetlight for the short guy to stand under mischievously. Also it’s near impossible to see but the first picture has this overlay layer on the whole thing of a Joker card to be extra mean. OKAY BYE

i am SO SORRY this took a minute to get back to ive had a crazy busy few days . THAT BEING SIAD . HELLO ? HI ? UR PHYS IS SOOOO BEAUTIFUL THE TBOY SWAG IS OFF THE CHARTS . i love their colour pallet so much ( and the undone tie is just . chews livewires . so so cool ) tall phys is so true and real To Me . i think katsumi ( my guy ) is around 5'9 or 5'10,, its one of the ONLY characteristics i give the reader in the story ( i have them looking down at ouma a lot suggesting theyre taller than him ) but i feel like . most people are taller than oumas height of 5'1 so it feels like an okay guess 😭

it always feels so warm and fuzzy when someonetells me theyre not into this kind of thing anymore but still enjoyed sleep awake,, genuinely thanks for giving it a chance and im so so happy u enjoyed it :') ur art is SO beautiful im so so so grateful thank u so much . especially at the moment ive been caught up w exams and my masters degree so updates have slowed A LOT its so nice to see people still interact and enjoy whats there during the quiet periods .

phys breaking down over ouma's letter ur so evil its so insidious,, their emotions are so well captures ( DN YEAH I SAW THAT LITTLE JOKER CARD !!!! GETS U GETS U GETS U ) and saihara seeing phys' picture on ouma's board with the angel wings and halo and just his little '...huh.' RAHHGHGH tearing at the bars of my fucking enclosure . i love ur phys so much . wraps him in tinfoil and puts him in the oven to bake leisurely .

PS THANK U FOR DRAWING KATUSMI TOO !!! THATS SO KIND OF U

[cainightfics]

hello.

Hope u r doing well! I love ur fics!

In one of ur asks u mentioned that you read Manga for fun. So any mangas u like or recommend ( besides berserk, already read it)?

thank u! hope ur doing well too

i haven't been reading "good" manga much recently. i read random yaoi for a laugh or easy entertainment, same with fic, but it's been a while since ive really dug into something. a lot of this has to do with grad school killing my creativity, tbh....

but to answer ur question, i really like naoki urasawa, i think hes written the most "literary" manga out there. everybody knows about monster, but 20th/21st century boys and pluto are also worth checking out. urasawa has the most consistently good body of work ive encountered from a mangaka. like, i would say fullmetal alchemist probably has my vote for manga that remains strong throughout and is just undeniably a classic, but urasawa has so much breadth across his body of work. there's shit in monster and 20th century boys i still think about, and i read them like 13 years ago.

i am keeping up with the summer hikaru died, though the plot is at a bit of a lull and i get the sense the author isn't completely sure what to do with their own success. i absolutely love the concept nonetheless though, and think the first few chapters are great on their own.

a lesser known, cult favourite of mine is homunculus. really really different than most manga you've probably read already. can't say much more than that without spoiling.

i think vagabond is worth checking out, even though the story is probably akin to many things youve already read, and it remains unfinished. same with the climber. not super unique stories or themes, but generally well executed.

my guilty pleasure manga is kuroshitsuji lol. its my opinion that yana toboso is kind of a genius but.isnt even really aware of it bc shes cursed with gooner mentality. the story really really sucks right now and has for the past 2 arcs lol but i could write an entire thesis on my various marxist readings of kuroshitsuji. and im not even joking. it's sooooo stupid but it's fascinating to me bc yana is making this like insane pastiche of victorian literary conventions AND contemporary victorian anachronisms that is honestly really camp and interesting but it's just like. FULL of her weird fetishes. not even the obvious pedo stuff but like once you get into it you start seeing her vomit fetish and foot fetish and dollification fetish and it's just really interesting to analyze 😭 like i wanna put her in a lab and study her idk. a little known fact to u all about me is im like obsessed with ppl who are weirdly horny and i conduct what i call "goonvestigations" on them and to me yana toboso is like a top tier gooner to investigate. omg notice how this is already the longest paragraph in this reply... i wouldn't say i recommend reading it lmfao i just think it may be hilariously shocking to you all that i follow that slop. not even just follow. i read the LEAKS 😭

anyways. i would also say oyasumi punpun and blood on the tracks (moreso the beginning bits, it does kinda fall off) are things u might like if you were into the "darker" aspects of berserk (and im not talking the shitty rape scenes, moreso the emotional toxic entanglement of fucked up characters). obviously ya gotta read junji ito too.

i also read saiki k, one punch man, and mob psycho 100 for fun. i think when you read enough of the same thing, eventually you get to the point where all you wanna read is parodies of the genre lol. i read sooooo much manga when i was younger that now its all the same to me, and i just wanna see people make fun of it. that's kinda where im at with manga lately... none of the new stuff interests me unless it's self reflective satire of its own principles. this is why i like mr robot too btw. it functions as satire of both online political movements and their material impotence, and how they are shaped by 90s american capitalism-critical media like american psycho, the sopranos, fight club etc that are about protagonists essentially so caught up in themselves their worldviews totally occlude reality. but don't get me going about mr robot or ill go on forever...

[balketh]

Lol, sorry if I want clear: I'm not here to debate. If you disagree with my thoughts on Starfield because you still like what Bethesda are doing, keep it to yourself. Triple A gaming has gotten worse because of this acceptance of shit (aside from the CEO capitalistic nightmare in the industry atm.) I truly could not want to hear those opinions less; it's like hearing from sports video game fans that current gen sports games are fine being so utterly engorged with dark pattern microtransations. Have some fucking standards, please.

Skyrim was truly only worth a damn because of modding. Oblivion, Morrowind; only still relevant because they're moddable. Bethesda wouldn't have been the first company ever to successfully shoehorn PAID MODDING on CONSOLES if that wasn't 100% the case. Something literally NO other company forced through before them. Skyrim would not have been a mega success if players on PC couldn't fix their issues. It didn't last because of console players. It lasted because of bugfixing and pornmaking modders, and that's a goddamn fact.

Nothing else they've done since has been nearly as good or long lasting. That longevity - because of modding - is the only real reason they've had so many chances to make more games. It's the only reason they're such a big fucking company now. If it wasn't, they wouldn't have released the CK for Starfield.

They have not learned; their games keep getting worse, their sales keep going down. It might be slow, but it's a fucking fact. Reviews aren't everything, just as sales aren't everything, but Bethesda is, largely, on the decline, and that's not up for debate.

Jee, it's almost like headlines like "An All-Time Low For Bethesda Studios" re: Starfield DLC completely support my entire point that Bethesda is in a serious decline that they won't recover from because they keep making worse shit than the last thing they made, and it's been that way SINCE THEY JUST KEPT REMAKING SKYRIM.

I cannot be clear enough when I say it won't improve. A writer for Bethesda, Will Shen, (one of the better writers - responsible for all of Nick Valentine/Far Harbour in FO4, the best bits of FO4), left Bethesda after Starfield, because of how awfully run by upper management it was. That's 1000000% what I'm talking about. I could not be more correct. You don't have to believe me if you don't want to, but people inside the fucking company can see it, exactly as I said.

Emil Pagliarulo, lead writer on - let's see, Bethesda's four worst written games, games known for having shitty stories that people actively disregard in favour of just playing with the game like a sandbox full of toys - FO3, Skyrim, FO4, and Starfield, (with known shitty contributions to Oblivion) claims that Starfield is Bethesda's best work yet. The guy who wrote the Dark Brotherhood storyline in Oblivion, which, to be clear, is dogshit. Not the 'kill creatively' gameplay, not the lore from TES at large, the actual writing, dialogue, and in-game narrative surrounding your actions; go and look it up right now. It's contrived slop, and this was his 'big win'.

The man who openly stated that he doesn't like using design documents in his work. On massive, sprawling, open-world narrative games. The man literally responsible for every single bad story Bethesda has released since Oblivion - yes, all of them, because that's what lead writers do, they approve and direct the writing of their team. The awful non-protag from-birth-fInD-uR-dAd of FO3. Skyrim's utterly generic dRaGoNs-R-bAcK! Go shout at them until they stop! and the god awful lol-all-sides-are-shitheels-but-whatever Thalmor, Legion, and Stormcloaks. FO4's hilarious improvement on FO3, 'SHAUN, WHERE IS MY BABY SHAUN', with the most obvious fucking minute-one twist imaginable, and now, his pièce de résistance, an entire universe of uninteresting, themeless, cookie-cutter sci-fi drudgery with no real reason to explore or be invested. A man so anti-protag in singleplayer games that rather than make you the protagonist in Starfield, they used the restartable ending to write off your singular importance by having there be infinity of you.

The fucker responsible for Shattered Space's absolutely dogshit reception, and its terrible writing and narrative direction. That lead to article headlines like 'Bethesda Honcho says Starfield is "the best game we've ever made" in massive bout of amnesia', something that would only fly if, oh, I don't know, we were generally all aware of how dogshit Bethesda's writing and dialogue have been for a decade. He might not have done the genuinely fucking bland, soulless gameplay, or riddled the game with fucking BETHESDA MENUS, but he's responsible for the most unfixable thing in all of these games: the writing.

That's who will be doing ES6, probably with Todd backing him.

People didn't buy Skyrim 17 times (yes, that's how many discrete versions of Skyrim you could have bought without buying the same game on the same console twice) for the fucking story. They bought it because it's a fucking fantasy sandbox that did not have a competitor of similar scope for years. Starfield is a bad sandbox, and it shows.

Yeah, no, Bethesda's a fucking goner if he does ES6. It won't flop, because people will fucking RUSH to buy it day 1 without knowing a thing about it, but the reviews that follow will eviscerate it. ES6 will be the downfall of Bethesda. Both of them need to fuckin' retire, and let some actual talent do the writing for once in this decade.

I can only wish it would drop sooner rather than later, so they could just fucking stop.

[beaudesoleil]

Hello! Ur art is ABSOLUTELY awesome! (Tastes like slurpee) Any tips on drawing cats? Like anatomy and style and stuff?? TYSM

thank you, i feel very honored! as far as tips go.....i'm not too good on sharing tips BUT i'll try ^^ idk how much they will help but i'm pretty sure they will give you a good understanding! (APOLOGIES IF I MADE ANY MISTAKES I WROTE THIS AT LIKE 5 IN THE MORNING sob)

starting on the face/head here. the head of a cat is relatively small compared to its body. it's mainly angled and dome-shaped (that depends on breed). the length also varies. for now i'll be sticking with the three generic head shapes for times' sake

if it's a foreign or oriental-type cat (eg; crowfeather), the head is longer and wedge-shaped, slopes downwards and has less pronounced cheeks. the ears are larger and pointier as well

if it's a standard-type cat (eg; bluestar), then the head is broad and medium-sized with well-developed cheeks, and the ears are average-sized and more curved

if it's a cobby-type cat (eg; yellowfang), then the head is wider and significantly shorter with protruding cheeks, and the ears are smaller and more like little nubs

now onto the body, limbs and tail...most cats share the same body shape, that being a lean, powerful body with a long tail and well-built semi-muscular limbs. some cats do stray from this stereostypical shape and either have slimmer bodies, shorter tails and shorter legs but those will be shared for another time

the torso of the body is long and well-set, not extremely thin and vasiform. the boning of the torso (and the body in general) is dense and able to support the cat's weight. it can either be wiry, average or stocky. the coat/pelt of the body can vary, ranging from short to long, and so does the patterns, ranging from striped, spotted, tortoiseshell/calico, rosettes and sometimes even with none at all.

the limbs are sturdy and muscular (which is seen more prominently in male cats) and usually sport medium to large paws with (obviously) retractable claws and prominent knuckles. the hind legs are naturally way longer than the front, so most cats mainly walk with their rear raised and their tail drooping and hanging there

the tail is thick and long, ending in a rounded tip. some cats have longer, winding tails (eg; tallstar) or short, stubby tails (eg; stumpytail) but again this is solely depending on breed. not much to say on tails tbh it's fairly easy

lots of people struggle on accurately capturing the looks and appearance of a cat, so if you still are even after the guide i suggest you look at references on google, visit the MESSYBEAST website (thats where i get most of my cat anatomy slop from) or take inspiration from wayne mcloughlin and owen richardson, two artists (one former, since wayne passed in 2015) that work on the warriors covers.

i hope this little guide helps with generic cat anatomy and how their bodies function externally! maybe i will make a part 2 on styles but who knows....maybe? maybe not? depends on my mood tbh ^^

-beau

[glngrbred]

There is something wrong with gamers. They made a new quiet place game, and the main character is pregnant and has asthma. Now, Any reasonable person should be able to think about A QUIET PLACE and realize that having asthma is a GAMEPLAY FEATURE they designed FOR GAMEPLAY!!! Like, remember the Amnesia series?

(tangent) Amnesia Rebirth is an entire game where all of the horror is built around that concept from bloodborne where a woman is impregnated (against her will) and is giving birth to a demon basically. also the demon is in her body so shes like possessed and shit. COOL! Pregnancy is amazing for horror!!!!

Asthma? AMAZING for horror where you have to be quiet. it is game design MAGIC and is so cool! they managed to turn their difficulty feature into a diagetic and logical system. like, needing to find refuels for your inhaler is just automatically going to succeed in making scrambling stressful scenarios that will have you shitting the bed.

Remember Amnesia: the bunker? the famously increadable design forces you to put yourself in time scrambles where you know you'll run out of light, you know you need more rations, and you know you're almost out of fuel. Just to EMULATE that franticness and the FLUIDITY and rapid pace of gameplay is an acheivment.

Especially with the rigidity of A quiet place's near parallel world, you can't add too many fantasy elements outside of the apocolypse and the monsters (shreikers?) so turning corruption/insanity/fuel/ammo into Inhalers turns those fantastical, hard to explain systems into something so Inherently realistic and basic, that anyone who picks up the game will be able to understand the objective. V VV You have to breathe -> rasping will get you killed -> use your inhaler-> Uh oh ur out of charges -> you have to go on an adventure and find more -> that means you have to go on a crazy mad dash avoiding making sound and a single error will get you killed -> your getting closed in on OH FUCK THER IT IS -> take your inhaler -> you survived! NOW YOU HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN What did every youtube comentary slop farm say? OMG? a PREGNAT WOMAN WITH ASTHMA?? thats so UNREALISTIC. SHe would die IMMIDIATELY. Fucking forced diversity! I want to have microphone integration and play as a white guy WAHHHHHHHH!!! I can't critically think for 2 seconds and realise that this game is designed to be realistic, and be a similar experience for all players and alsot to avoid metagaming by just fucking MUTING your mikE. Like they solved a fundamental flaw with an Audio based horror game in such an elegant and story driven way. They aren't even trying to get diversity points. its purely for story and gameplay.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

i came back to your blog after a while cos im mikepilled again and wtf joel jumpscare. boy you still got it . anyway i love you for writing erectile dysfunction. its the ultimate i can fix him... hot as fuck if you can... hot as fuck if you cant but he really really fucking wants you to... rawrrr:3 moar please ill take any broken old man cock if its from you :3

bro. mike ehrmantraut erectile dysfunction

ur so smart

pop pop’s dick definitely don’t pop up no more so yk he got the dick pills on his nightstand. so if he’s got you in his bed he’ll pop one as soon as y’all get there and just like eat you out and finger you until it kicks in. by the time it does you deadass don’t know what number orgasm ur on bc pop pop’s slop top is ridiculous (he can take out the dentures 😳)

but if ur ever on a ride with him…

the only thing that can get it up is your mouth

so you believe /copium

after about 17 minutes straight of slobbering on pop pop’s köckenballs you finally get him up to a half-chub and it’s gone by the time you get settled in his lap. you’re grumbling and pounding the seat in frustration. he just laughs.

“i told you it wasn’t gonna happen, kid.“

he sticks two fingers inside you and crooks them just right, twisting, scissoring, fluttering them overtop one another. you cling to his shirt and whine into his neck and he says

“now are you done making a fool of yourself?”