#idk what to tag that
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WHAT???
#fortnite#kado thorne#WHO BROUGHT HIM BACK?#WHICH ONE OF YOU DID IT??!?!#fortnite spoilers#idk what to tag that
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did a thing
cw: innacurate western whump, hanging (doesn’t actually happen), implied torture, lmk if i missed anything idk, death mention
On the day of the outlaw’s hanging, the sun smiled brightly. Through the red-rusted bars of his cell, sunlight streamed onto the floor in burning white lines.
The outlaw stood, dragging a hand over his face, as the sheriff entered. Eyes downcast, he counted two others flanking the sheriff.
Their hands hovered over their holsters. Exchanging glances, they shifted from boot to boot, dust rising up with each sharp movement. They talked in low voices, eyeing the outlaw like something they’d like to kick violently.
A faint smile on his lips, the outlaw held out his wrists to be cuffed. He blew a strand of dirt-blond hair out of his eyes. “I’ll see you boys on the other side.”
Click. The handcuffs were yanked shut, the metal cinched to the point of drawing blood. The outlaw winced, his smile fading.
The others drew back as the sheriff placed a heavy hand on the outlaw’s shoulder and shoved him forward.
“Come along, son.”
A soft exhale. “I ain’t your son.”
The hand dug into his shoulder as a warning, a threat, and the outlaw fell silent. The group made their way out of the sheriff’s office and down the three wooden steps that creaked under their weight.
Dust settled on the outlaw’s boots as he came to a stop.
The gallows were crude, set up overnight and in a hurry, but it would serve its purpose. The outlaw swallowed hard, knees suddenly turning to water.
The crowd was more constricting than the noose itself. Tightening, watching, tightening again.
The sheriff snapped the handle of his gun over the outlaw’s head. And the outlaw stumbled forward, vision blurring, a curse red-hot on his tongue.
“I’m going, I’m going!”
He looked over his shoulder only once. He saw and ignored the eyes of the crowd. These were the people he’d robbed over and over again.
He’d pay for that in death.
It was like Jack always said: “It’s an eat or be eaten world.”
Well, Jack had been eaten. His white bones could be found under heat-beaten sand. Visited by tumbleweeds and coyotes. The outlaw thought that sharing Jack’s fate might not be too bad.
He breathed in the brilliant blue of the sky and tried not to choke on it. That, in the very least, he would miss.
Then it was gone. Replaced with dark fabric that smelled of smoke and animal fat. A mercy. This way, no one would know how the outlaw’s lip trembled or how he died with red eyes and a whispered prayer.
When the noose dropped over the outlaw’s neck, he waited for it to draw tight.
It never did.
A loud shouting broke the silence, shattered it, pounding it to nothingness beneath the echo of a dozen hoofbeats. The outlaw heard screams and gunshots. His smile returned and he stood tall on the gallows, a noose around his neck.
All thoughts of Jack and coyotes vanished.
A whirlwind of movement and dust. Someone yanked the noose off and pulled the outlaw onto their horse.
The outlaw felt every jarring thud of the horse beneath him. An elbow dug into his side and someone was breathing heavily just above him as they leaned over the saddle. He sucked in his breath, pain sparking into bullet holes behind his eyes.
“Get this damned thing off me, will you?” he snapped, voice hoarse.
Another gunshot, this one close enough to make the outlaw’s ears ring. “The bastards are right behind us.” Another shot and then the grip loosened. “Hold tight.”
Two more shots in quick succession as the outlaw struggled to find the horse’s mane with cuffed hands. Then his companion was leaning over him again.
He yanked the outlaw’s mask off before turning sharply into a grove of brush and scrubby hills.
More outlaws surrounded the two of them, and a few lifted their hats as they passed.
The outlaw grinned and leaned closer over the horse, gripping the saddle horn with worn fingers. Scarlet red dripped from his wrists but he could hardly feel it.
Only the stubble-jawed man he rode with noticed that the outlaw’s shirt was stained crimson, vicious lines visibly ripped open along his back.
He said nothing, spurring his horse on faster. His mouth was set in a thin line, adrenaline replaced with cold horror.
#no edits we die like men#i did have. a second part planned#that was just the outlaw getting back and then walking out of the hideout and someone following him and noticing the wounds on his back#horswhips are nasty things what can i say#anyway this wasn’t edited at all i’m sorry#i’m so exhausted what can i say#whump writing#whump#whumpblr#western whump#outlaw whumpee#cw hanging#idk what to tag that#cw implied torture
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it is unbelievably easy to not only get in bubbles on here and anywhere on the interent, but more importantly to forget we are in one (there's nothing wrong with existing in niche communities, we just mustn't forget it's not the universal state of existing which our brains like to assume very quickly. also my god tumblr works a lot like wider society with its semi segreated communities), and as someone who got a year long depressin mainly interacting with my family, friends, and tumblr, the return to uni has been. rough. i had forgor how it felt brushing elbows with passive aggressively racist teachers and people who hate me for being trans (even in goddamn art school with half queer students it's a nightmare), it's not i had forgotten transphobes existed, nor that they were in power and the state didn't care (impossible with the wave of anti trans laws in america) but it was less tangible, less frequent, and i had the freedom to leave
anyways this post is about remembering that every single person is acting and thinking the way they are because they believe it to be right or the best behavioral option and lack exposure to alterantive point of view they cna understand. Everyone thinks they're the norm, the standard, that their personal stance is the neutrality; from zionists to tankies, they believe themselves to be right partially out of chosen biased media diet, their upbringing, the linguistic tools at their disposition, the way they interpret their experiences, their parent's beliefs and their attitude towards it, and because of strong entrenched psychic mechanisms. most people have huge gaps in their education due to how specialized, incomplete, state dictated, and hierachised the education system i(and classist) and people com from all kinds of cultural backgrounds that each comes a set of specific ethics and beliefs. those gaps in formation to have a comprehensive knowledge of the world in as many of its aspects as possible should have been fixed by individuqls before they become a politician, alas it's not like political classes are great at teaching ethics and as if people don't have financial incentives to stay ignorant.
Which is not to mean they can't be judged for their actions or for enacting or endorsing cruelty ; on the contrary. everyone has a responsability to unlearn bigotry and use critical thinking when it comes to news media and fiction. But winning debates, explaining your point of view and convincing people is easier when you understand the underlying mental pathways and the cultural consumption leading to the opinions of the opposing parties; that way your stance cannot be construed as myopic: you've considered the other stances you could hold, you've understood them and looked into what motivates people to hold it, the history behing it, and you still chose the one you did and hold if for more ethical.
#sam speaks#idk what to tag that#ethics#this is thoughts i have trying to talk to people about palestine but tbh it's more generic than advice for this#countering bigotry#i guess
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Unpopular opinion but I for one wish Sesshomaru had been kept female as Rumiko originally was planning. Even though she would have been fucking hated by the fandom bc icy, emotionless and aloof is only hot and forgivable when it’s a man doing it, I would have loved her.
In honour of that and her, here’s four 5-minute instalments.
Likes < Reblogs.
#my stuff#my art#inuyasha#sesshoumaru#fem version#idk what to tag that#sesskagu#sessmir#both implied#anti sessrin#y’all don’t get to see my art#towa yashahime#Setsuna Yashahime#lavaartz
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The thing is Sam is forever changed by his experiences and his sheltering from the outside world. Not only from before college but AFTER college and the later seasons. Whoever Sam Winchester was in college, we only get hints of. memories, phantoms. We will never truly know him from that point of view. we may never truly know what he lost from there. He had Jess, he had Brady for however briefly. But he also had other friends. Ones that never got quite as close. But ones who could've been close with Jess. or maybe thought I'd getting closer to him. Ones that had no way of reaching out to him after the fire and his eventual disappearance from college.
SO the Sam from college, the Sam we see gradually get drained from who Sam is as a person from the early seasons. Lives rent free in my brain. That one guy who knew him and caressed the back of his shoulders and spoke prose to him at that Halloween party. Anyone else at that Halloween party even...
Man...
I think school work felt both more tedious and yet more fun to him that searching for lore about some wicked beast of nature ever did.
#sam winchester#sorry it's just thinking about lawboy sammy hours#supernatural universe if Dean ran away with Sam when he went to college: fucking wild but compelling as hell honestly#college era sam winchester#idk what to tag that#lawboy sam
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The energies in the boyhole right now are indescribable
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Deepest, darkest fear?
Probably being diagnosed with a terminal illness 😐
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i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.
#i often wonder about how many things would be considered classic or high art had they only received the marketing#how many short films that were made for class could have been the most powerful thing you'd ever seen? if you'd seen them?#“you know the greatest films of all time were never made” etc etc#but like. these works of art ARE being made. it's just enjoyed by a smaller audience with equal impact though#i think about this one furry i used to follow on insta who had the coolest worldbuilding ever. it's been years.#thought prompted by that sketch of nimona from ten years ago that was just for a character design#posted to the creator's tumblr and now it's nominated for best animated feature film at the oscars#and by the genuine emotional reaction a fan comic made me feel. how much work had gone into it. how beautiful it was to me.#idk what to tag this but i hope whoever needs to hear it does#writing#writer#fandom#fandom culture#artist
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[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories
#🌿 misc#idk how to tag this#i just love making lists#and sorting things into categories#pinterest#??#this is part of what motivates me to write i just love making lists of scenes and then sorting them into categories#bangers
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EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt
#talk tag#IT KILLS ME. REIGEN IS NOT MOB'S DAD. HE HAS A DAD. INGO IS NOT AKARI'S DAD. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CAN ANYONE HEAR ME#(not even necessarily to say that ingo is in his late 20s but still)#(even if he was a 30-40-50 year old no matter how old he is no fucking teenager is gonna call some guy they met as a 15 year old ''dad'')#GAI IS NOT A FATHER FIGURE TO ROCK LEE HE WAS LIKE 13 WHEN HE WAS BORN! PLEASE!!!!!!!!#one time i saw that a person wrote a fic where mario was like a father figure to luigi.#they are TWIN BROTHERS.#not what this about but idk where else i can say anything about this.#just horrible#also sometimes someone is just An Older Friend like no familial relationship just a friend or acquaintance who is a lot older than you
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im fucking losing it
#vivi bleats#dungeon meshi#falin#chilchuck#dungeon meshi spoilers#dungeon meshi anime spoilers#dunmeshi spoilers#anime spoilers#idk what other spoilers to tag but i hope these work#CHUCKLEFUCK...
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Story of my life
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there is something so darkly comical about tumblr potentially outliving twitter
tumblr, which is held together with duct tape and madness, run by three raccoons in blood stained Yahoo! hats and a handful of crabs, its only discernible source of income the sale of shoelaces from an inside joke so inside no one knows the original source anymore and fake blue checkmarks... that website still lives on
truly the cockroach of social media and I love it for that
#twitter#tumblr#current events#elon musk#idk what to tag this#decline of man?#fall of society?#memes?#let's go with that#memes#meme#funny#tumblr culture
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Reblogs appreciated~!
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confusing comic about existing as a trans person during confusing times of trans visibility.
#transmasc#trans#trans comic#artist on tumblr#idk what to tag this with. very happy with it!!!#mastectomy#nonbinary#comic#lived experience
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One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.
Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.
It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?
Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.
#idk what to tag this#worldbuilding#writing fiction#historical fiction#fantasy#a real-life example: my dad (a pediatrician) was once entrusted with the care of a baby who was born with a rare condition#this was in a place without great hospital/medical access and anyway they were going to fly the baby over#and he specifically asked them to bring the mother and baby#they show up with baby and...the baby's uncle#and he was like. y'all. do you think I asked for the mom to come just for fun??? We don't have formula here. what is the baby going to eat?
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