the idol groups if they were just splatoon 1 splatbands instead

Discoholic 🪩

oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
🪼
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

shark vs the universe
RMH
d e v o n

@theartofmadeline

Andulka

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
taylor price
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Origami Around
No title available
occasionally subtle

No title available
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

seen from Malaysia
seen from Pakistan
seen from Pakistan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Vietnam

seen from Uzbekistan

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Yemen

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@teknocurlyque
the idol groups if they were just splatoon 1 splatbands instead
only very good becs get snausages
day 28
day 26
whatboards with @teknocurlyque
“‘saw trap for autistic people: look another person in the eye for 15 seconds.’ that’s good.. that might be the one,” i say, pulling the postgrub out of my ear with a grotesque squelch and dropping it back into your fleshy little claws. it’s a feat far outranking your class to ignore the way it wriggles and squeals, pleading and begging and whispering secrets for sweet release in tones too quiet to decipher lest you jam it into your own ear. you wouldn’t dare, though it tempts you like the soft scent of a fat milkworm larvae, you would never dare risk your overlord’s wrath. the last one to do that had been sent to the nightmare hell demonrealm full of ghouls and morsels that had unpredictable textures when you bit into them. you swallow qnd clasp the grub in your talons, bowing to leave, though i’ve already turned my attention back to the Mound, a fleshy pile of viscera that gurgles stickily as i rest my palms on each side and begin gyrating each finger with intent and purpose. every flick and every dip into a crevice elicits a tremble and a flash of light unique in its pattern. it’s quite the sight, but not one meant for your inferior little peepers. my eyes roll back to focus and smash through like a hammer to glass your carefully constructed demeanor of pathetic subservience which, though you liked to believe it assuaged my temper through whatever may bear shape to pity in my blackened, maggot-infested heart, accomplished little more than amplifying my ire at the obvious attempt. you meet my eyes and your blood runs cold. “the post was a flop. it was ass. guards, take this chud to the nightmare hell demonrealm full of ghouls and morsels that have unpredictable textures when you bite into them.” i wave my hand and you fall to your knees, shrieking for mercy as the drones peel from their wall-chrysalides and drag you away.
you used to count the days, even before you had been thrown to the deepest of depths of Her Malevolence's demonrealm. you had found a beam of light that shone through an opening in one of the cavernous halls of Her looming fortress, in a hidden corner where overgrown and gnarled flesh had parted and revealed ancient architecture, a window, caked in congealed blood and grime staining the pale glow of the last dying sun the deep, angry red of an inflamed wound. craning your neck to see, you would count each passing day, and, when you found an opportunity, slink to your den and tally them up on the walls. Under Her taut reign, secrets were a luxury that very few could afford. But this one was yours, all yours.
you don't know how long it's been now. days. weeks. minutes. hours. years. millennia. it's impossible to tell. and that's the worst part. having no way to know how much time had passed since you disappeared. No sight but the stirrings of a deprived mind fabricating shadows in the dark. No sensation but the ground beneath you and the shackles that stuck wetly to your wrists. No sound but the distant, incessant boom of pitched up, artificially sped up music that the ghouls just never seemed to be able to get enough of. at first you had tried to keep track by counting the putrid, unpredictably textured morsels they threw at you, but you quickly came to realize that it was random. you realized that there was no rhyme or reason to it. you realized that there had never been any rhyme or reason at all, and you realized that whenever they remembered to feed you, they did. you often went for long stretches of time without eating. but they never let you starve. it was more cruel than you could have imagined. your life entirely depended on your sustained torture. But then, it always had, hadn't it?
you close your eyes, though it makes no difference, and you try to remember what it felt like when you had first reached out, cupping your talons under that beam of light, that miraculous and foreign and beautiful thing that had somehow managed to survive in the bowels of her ruthlessness' lair, and enraptured, you cradled its warmth close like it was something fragile, like once it slipped from your grasp, you would never be able to find it again. The distant, metallic groan of heavy metal gates swinging opening followed by a momentary increase in the clarity of nightcore hyperpop music lets you know it's almost time to eat. suddenly your hands are empty again. you feel nothing but the sensation of absence, the heaviness of something that is no longer there.
If only that post hadn't flopped. if only.
like a tung tung
More on the topic of tigers
Wayfaring stranger
tomodachi life living the dream
movie night at nepeta’s hive. what do you think they’re watching
now listen to me young mechanic, i am talking directly into your ear now. i need you to do me a favor. you will do this for me. i need you to go to gamestop, and i need you to ask the squid working the counter if they have splat tim on the wii u. if you come back empty handed youll be in big trouble mechanic. you will never see the light of day.
my drawings i did fo the project [S] fundraiser
"my upcoming fruiter aero indie series"
"support my cozy horror indie game"
"my indie plushies for all the bed rotting girlies"
WE ARE JUST SAYING SHITTTTT
couple of johns for the occasion
pop music so abysmal nowadays I’m finding myself humming Havana by Camila Cabello even though it used to annoy the shit out of me years ago