#performance enhancements

[historyofguns]

The article, "Is a Custom Pistol a Waste of Money?" by Clayton Walker, delves into the value and advantages of purchasing a high-grade, custom-level pistol. Clayton appreciates the quality and precision of custom pistols like the 1911, which feature carefully fitted components and trigger systems that enhance their performance. However, he notes that a top-tier pistol won't necessarily compensate for a novice shooter’s lack of skill. He argues that while modern entry-level pistols offer great accuracy and reliability, custom guns with additional features can enhance shooting performance, allowing shooters to reach their full potential. He acknowledges the appeal of custom pistols’ aesthetics and potential for longevity, making them desirable investments for enthusiasts. Ultimately, Walker suggests that the decision to buy a custom pistol should balance personal value, needs, and the desire for improved shooting accuracy through upgraded equipment.

[sable-skies]

headcanon: twilight does that nervous dog side eye thing when bothered

[painted-bees]

Margie doesn't banter with the crowd during concerts, but she carries the music.

[oc]

[strawberryspuffy]

(TW: Drug abuse spoken about lightheartedly)

Animatic based on the @tiptoeingquietly fic once again!

This audio was just too perfect lmaooo (creds to Doechii)

Read it here or never understand the context:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61257943/chapters/156556618

[paunchbunny]

trans girlfriend who forcemascs you into the perfect fat subby butch. she just came out and started hrt and she wants to be a classic femme, and for that she needs a cute butch toy, right? she shows you how her tits are growing and sensitive then gropes yours and tells you she’s going to make sure they get nice and big too. she shows you off on dates at restaurants where she smiles that cruel, sweet little smile and taps on the menu to show you what to order - tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. she sits next to you at the bar, ordering beer after beer for you to pound back, stealing the occasional sip and stroking your growing beer gut. she loves it when you eat all her nice cooking, cherry pie on top of steak and potatoes, then lie in front of the TV nursing beers until your stomach creaks. she loves you drunk and sleepy and full, never more than when you roll over on top of her and she can feel how fucking big she’s gotten you. she loves having you on all fours and fucking the burps out of you, femme on top of a butch whose belly hangs down to press against the bed. she loves being in charge of your body, your clothes, your belly. she loves that she controls how strangers see you and that your friends know you’re like this because she’s made you like this. you love her control.

femme gf feeder with butch gf feedee my beloved 🌹

pls help me pop the buttons off my Hawaiian shirts (standard butch uniform ofc)

[alshaverpressbox]

tumblr ads if they were important (part 6/?)

[silcobottomgrowth]

do u guys think shimmer was silcos diy tshots

[plushefemme]

omg i am SO so close to moving out into my own apartment by myself (!!!!) like it’s gonna happen by the end of this month or early next month and my plan is to devote as much money as i reasonably can to food and really start gaining so i can make some content perhaps. and if i can get enough interest my goal would be to do sponsored stuffings at least weekly (that might be unrealistic but i wanna try) this is silly i feel like i’m writing in my diary but it’s just exciting :))

[jinruihokankeikaku]

Just played one of my best games of chess against a bot yet. Using my powers

[jaskefer]

Obsessed with the idea of Extraordinary Things being a back and forth between Jaskier and Radovid, with Jaskier trying to draw him out in the first verse, and Radovid finally answering him in the second.

Cause like, with Radovid, Jaskier meets someone who he can't fully read properly. He knows there's something under the front of a drunken, bumbling prince, but he doesn't know him well enough yet to be certain as to what.

So, he tests the waters a bit. throws out a line to see if Radovid will take it—and he does. A little bit. But it's so interesting to me, because it doesn't just feel like Jaskier is trying to nail down Radovid's truth in this verse; it feels like he's injecting elements of his own mask into it, as well.

"Keep your words on ice, your gaze lights the fire. They say 'keep on playing nice,' but I have no desire. Why waste our words when lips were made for extraordinary things? It's not a want, it's a need, it is paying no heed to what others say to sing."

This is Jaskier's read of Radovid as he knows him so far: a man hiding more complex wants beneath the veneer of a drunken party boy. But it's also Jaskier admitting that he knows this about Radovid because he wears the exact same mask himself.

Much like how Jaskier and Ciri speak through Geralt and Yennefer in order to process their own feelings about them later in the season, Jaskier sings through himself in order to comprehend who Radovid is. Jaskier is using the performative persona he's crafted for himself in an attempt to coax Radovid out of his.

All of it leads into the main intention of this song: "The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love. Of them, I've had enough. with you, I am enough." I am tired of having to put up a front. I want to be understood. I think you understand me. Prove me right.

And Radovid sees what Jaskier is doing. He comments on Jaskier's ability to see people for who they are and not who they pretend to be. But there's still more he wants to understand. This still feels like a game, in a way.

It's only after Radovid sees the brutality of Dijkstra and Philippa up close, watches them orchestrate the assassination of the queen and threaten to incriminate him if he doesn't fall in line, that he then grasps the vulnerability in Jaskier's lyrics. Jaskier is also caught between multiple conflicting desires, that of his loyalty to Geralt/Yen/Ciri, and that of his work as the Sandpiper & how said work is backed by his continued commitment to Redanian Intelligence. That internal conflict and the desire to escape it is also highlighted in the song's first verse ("they say keep on playing nice, but i have no desire"). Only after all of this, when true fear begins to take over and the game stops being fun, does Radovid truly begin to truly understand Jaskier.

And so, he seeks him out. And he responds.

“Drop the sweet disguise, your heart’s beating too loud. The fairytales and little lies can’t drown out all the sound.” You were right. I do understand you. I know what you really want, because we're the same. You can’t hide it behind a façade of a song and a story and a persona.

“Take this heart and break this heart for extraordinary things.” I don't know what will become of this, or us. I still don't fully know if we can trust each other. But no one has ever seen me in the way that you have.

It's not a want, it's a need. With you, I am enough.

[bardockarts]

Don’t ask about Optimus’s broken (and then apologetically mended) hip joints, either.

[viscericorde]

Do you think esports athletes get drug tested

i hope so bc it would be funny to me

[screams-in-writing]

:)

Hey, wanna see if I can make some tears happen?

Because here’s some depressing angst from a much later chapter of the fic.

FYI, it’s 1st pov Mr. Puzzles, with some Smg4, 3 and Mario cameos. No context but for the fact that Mr. Puzzles screwed up badly by making some poor decisions. Also, typed this up on the phone, but since it was flowing really well kept going; so possible typos.

-

There was something of a numbness that had fallen over me the moment my neck suddenly, and quite miraculously, no longer ached terribly as it had before. 

The enormity of what had just happened…

What had just been done, and just where it was I was now…

I could not make sense of it, even if I knew all of the pieces that had led up to this point, and it was only my fault that it had happened due to foolishly believing I could het away with one more passenger to my mind, without malicious intent for once. 

I understood why I was here, even if it hurt me more than I thought possible to know that it was because of a misunderstanding I doubted I would ever have a change to explain, or make up for. 

I’d been at rest, so I’d been within my mind when I had been forcibly (painfully) dragged back to my home world. 

As much as I didn’t want things to end between us like this, there didn’t appear to be much hope that I could get back to your world without assistance, when I still wasn’t at my best.

There were a number of things that could have been done in that moment. 

I could have done a dramatic emergence from my metal head, all dramatic flair with a showman’s smile to hide all the pain and regret and grief that had not yet had time to settle in.

I could have just come out and faced whatever consequences for my actions in my world and your adjacent one, as I figured you’d been the one to ask Smg4 to bring me back home.

A home where I would only ever be alone due to my actions that had sent me careening through the air into your world. 

I could have run; been a coward and faced nothing but loneliness and a loss to do much more than just exist, now that I wouldn’t be actively dying in another world because a man with a tv for a head shouldn’t have been able to survive there.

I chose…to do nothing. 

Attempting to do anything, whether for good or my own purpose, led me to here, so I just wouldn’t come out from my mind. If I didn’t do anything, then I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I could be left to my misery if what could have been if I had just stopped and thought about anyone apart from myself. 

There wasn’t even a plan to have my screen turn on to face anyone who’d be there upon my rather dizzying return to this world. 

Not even that plumber’s grating voice, which normally would have had me on the defensive, did anything to draw me out of hiding.

Nothing, until there was an incessant tapping on my metal head, and with memory of the last time (dratted trash compactor and its nightmares) I reluctantly, and wearily, turned on my screen. 

Smg4 was there, standing a healthy distance away from me, while wearing a nervous expression as if expecting me to do something. 

“Ugh, great, you just had to try and talk to the tv freak.” Smg3 was a little closer, glaring at me and were it possible, bristling as if he were holding back a tirade of words and possible desire to get into a fisticuffs situation. “I could have already gone back to my cafe but no, you had to bring him back right now. My poor little Eggdog is all alone at the cafe!”

“Don’t you have any customers?” Smg4 appeared grateful for a distraction.

“Yes.” Smg3 turned his ire on the other man. “My cafe had lots of people when I had to leave there, and come here, with you.”

“Mario doesn’t think he saw anyone.” 

Ordinarily, I would have grimaced, but upon seeing that my screen was on, Mario, who, up until said screen turned on, brightened upon. “TV man! Hello! Play Mario some telletubies!”

I don’t say anything to that.

I say nothing at all.

I merely waited for one of them that wasn’t Mario to address me, already resigned, if pained, over the idea that he was likely never going to see you again. And then, Smg4 unwittingly drove that point home with a remarkably reasonable question. 

“Why did you do that?” 

I shut my screen off before any of them could see the broken expression that was about to take the place of the more weary one. When I spoke, it was soft, nearly inaudible, all bravado and spark gone. “None of you would believe me, so I won’t waste your time.”

Smg4 was quiet.

“Are you kinnfing me?” Smg3 scoffed. “Oh that’s rich. You love to hear the sound of your own voice, so why not boast about all the lousy tricks you used on someone that trusted you there.”

I…said nothing, nor did I do anything.

For all intents and purposes, I likely resembled a simple old television that was turned off.

There was some murmuring, but that wasn’t enough for me to bother to turn my screen or to even listen in as I allowed myself to drift within my mind. 

It was a cold comfort. 

Artificial.

There was no one here but myself, and the countless tvs that surrounded me, floating and doing nothing. 

Much like I, myself, was no longer doing anything. 

I didn’t even look or question way that someone had picked up my metal head and carried me along for quite some time. 

It was relaxing, in a way. 

I didn’t have to do anything, because if I did, I would only make things worse.

Everything was already such a mess.

Were I to attempt to explain myself, after what I put Smg4 and his friends through, the explanation would only be hollow words to those them; they didn’t have the whole picture, so how could they judge me without that?

…but they could.

Smg4 and the otheres already had enough to judge me for, no matter the progress I’d made in the world adjacent to this one. 

It didn’t matter that this was all a horrible cluster of connected misunderstandings, but I wasn’t a fool. 

I knew that trying to talk about what really happened in the other world with you at present wouldn’t go over well. With what I was perceived to have done, and how quickly Smg4 and 3 had been to devise a plan to wrench me from your world back to my own…it was too soon to try and mend what had clearly been broken by my own arrogance by believing that things would be just fine, and that there’d be no consequences other than a light scolding.

Perhaps I was a fool after all, to believe that I could experience one of those happy ever after endings I’d watched of so many shows. 

The long walk ended when I felt my metal head being placed in some quiet place.

As before, I didn’t bother to turn on my screen. 

I didn’t want to see where I was.

It was cold.

I could sense it distantly.

There were footsteps that receded from me, as Smg4 could be heard calling out to someone else farther away. 

He’d said nothing to be.

I thought I may have heard the sound of a door close.

That was it, then?

Nothing else was said or done to me, apart from placing me somewhere like an unwanted piece of hardware?

I wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or disappointment, but if even Smg4 had no need for any further conversation with me, then I would remain exactly where I was. 

Within my mind, I curled my body up as tightly as I could. My wrapped wrapper firmly around my legs as I tucked my long limbs up to my chest. I pressed them to my chest snugly.

A static, glitching noise slid out of me.

With a fumbling hand, I forcefully muted myself  before burying my screen into my knees. With the extra silence I tormented myself with the fact that even my mind couldn’t block out the pathetic tears I could no longer even shed.

I would stay here, in my mind, where I couldn’t bother anyone trapped in any of the channels either. 

It had been made abundantly clear, over and over, throughout everything from first finding Smg4 to being punted into your world, and all the way to now, being back here that…that…

Curling my frame up into as small as a ball as best I could with my lanky limbed body, I kept kept my face pressed to my knees despite my whole body being wracked with tremors from unalloyed the emotions battering into me at once. 

Unshed tears were witnessed by no one. 

Anguished, despairing screams of grief, anger and self-loathing were locked behind a muted voice, unheard by none but myself. 

Because even muted, I could internally hear everything in this place that I’d created within my own mind. The tv screens all around me went dim, and the vibrancy of everything in my mind dulled. 

My shoulders slumped, even as I kept my arms wrapped around my legs beneath the knees. Screen staring at nothing, I felt a squeeze within my chest I’d not felt before, as I came to a concussion I’d been avoiding for some time now. 

No one needed me.

No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how much I attempted to understand…to try to see more than just myself and my need to meet perfection by any and all means.

I had nothing to show for it.

I was alone again.

The area around me grew dimmer than before, greying here and there in place of the vibrant colors of before. 

I just…stopped. 

Tv head and screen sagging against my knees, I made myself as small as possible while something seemed to crack and shatter into pieces within me as I finally just…stopped moving. 

Hanging suspended in my mind, my face eventually shut off while still muted, as I drifted.

It was safer for everyone that way, wasn’t it?

It was safer you and your roommates; for your whole town.

It was better for Smg4 and his crew, to not be reminded of the bad times that I’d orchestrated and been a part of toward the end of it.

It was better for both worlds if I just stayed away, and didn’t bother anyone anymore. That way, no one would have to put up with me any longer.

The channels that people were trapped within when I came here within my mind?

Gone.

I released them back to their homes, since this world would accept them and because, much like Smg4 and the others, they didn’t want nor need me. 

And you…

You…

There was a traitorous twinge in my chest, of unfamiliar grief yet bitter understanding of your actions due to my foolish assumptions and decisions I’d made so carelessly.

After all was said and done, my own arrogance and confidence led me to the same conclusion as before, despite the struggles to have it be otherwise. 

No one…

…wanted me.

[exactly103]

i love it sm when horror movie actors go. yeah i based my performance on my parent and what they were like. and then you watch the movie and it's a role based around being creepy and off-putting and omnipresent ❤️

[theaviatorthatcouldnotfly]

I LOVE PEOPLE SO MUCH I LOVE THEM I LOVE HUMANS