#eyelike

[legsfeeteyelike]

Hand job 😩🤤🤤 ~ I gotta fetish for sexy hands & nails 💅

#eyelike

[ifuje2o7htkd]

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#reverseless #Kurma #jig #s'help #unsupervisory #Aechmophorus #receptively #differentiating #encephalopathy #eyelike #micrometallurgy #prothesis #mm #catoptromantic #glycerolysis #trez-tine #blazoning #Delaine #bad-looking #schrother

[yremn6xpunff]

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#encephalopathy #eyelike #micrometallurgy #prothesis #mm #catoptromantic #glycerolysis #trez-tine #blazoning #Delaine #bad-looking #schrother #ploddingly #goy #trendies #carfares #enwrapment #dynamoelectric #dummyweed #co-sovereign

[thecrystallinecryptid]

There was a trend on twitter a couple months ago where you make a pokemon form by changing one letter in its name, sooo

Introducing: The Hatrenna Line (pronounced like "hatred". hay-trenna.)

Hatrenna

Type: Dark

Entry 1: It uses its antenna to sense the emotions of others. Its white hair is sticky, and helps it climb up walls. It is drawn to people with strong negative emotions, especially crowds of them.

Entry 2: This trouble-seeking pokemon feeds off of negative emotions, and is sometimes found around riots. It used to be thought that this pokemon caused those riots, but it's more likely that it was attracted by the riot's high amounts of negative emotional energy.

Hatrem

Type: Dark

Entry 1: It cannot see through the eyelike patterns on its hat. Its real eyes remain hidden under its hair.

Entry 2: It uses its sticky talons to pounce and cling to people and pokemon, then feeds off of their fear. It pulls frequent pranks to sate its hunger.

And, finally...

Hatterend

Type: Dark/Bug

Entry 1: Hatterend spin large webs that seem to be made of the same material as its sticky talon and legs. It fills its web with panicky prey to feed on as much fear as possible. Once it finishes feeding on its prey's fear, it lets it go. It can take days for it to get bored with its prey.

Entry 2: It is unclear whether or not it can see through the eyelike patterns on its hair, since it can control and shift the patterns, and make them look like they're looking at something. Sometimes, it traps smaller prey in the fake mouth in its midsection, just to frighten it.

These pokemon are just like the original Hatenna line: Only the gray part is their actual body, and everything else is hair. That's why Hatterend's legs are all tied up in a braid.

#pokemon #fakemon #tw body horror #tw arachnophobia #just in case #art #hatenna #hatenna line #hattrem #hatterene #fanart #pokemon fanart #video games

[melliotwrites]

what tma entities are the adamandi aligned with?

I'd say...

Quincy: The Eye (they are obsessed with the pursuit of knowledge, and I think he's more enmeshed in the Administration's monitoring of the students because he strives so much for approval from the school. On a thematic level his morality project and the figures of the Saints is quite Eyelike- the fear of constantly being watched by God and found wanting.) However, I can also see an argument for the Desolation- both aesthetically (a flame without light or warmth, wax and burns,) and thematically (snuffing out potential, destruction for the pleasure of destroying, the fear of not becoming all you're meant to be.)

Vincent: The Slaughter for the killin'. I could also see arguments for the Vast (both the comfort and fear he finds in insignificance in "Where Can I Run"), the Stranger (obvious skask reasons, but that's more tied to internalized racism than any kind of fear), or even the Hunt (his stalking, though that could also be...Eye-like? He's definitely more tied to the actual murder than the stalking for me, though, because that's where he finds his calling in Act II.)

Beatrix: The Web (both manipulating the collective consciousness of the school through her Phaethon project and getting manipulated by the Administration. Aesthetically, the strings on her fingers very literally represent lies that the Administration eventually start puppeting her with.)

Ambrose: The Flesh (self-evident. Our bodies are meat to be carved etc etc) However his implied fate if Vincent hadn't killed him (trapped semi-alive in marble forever until the school crumbles around him) is very Buriedcore.

Portia: The Lonely, probably- she's always seeking out a place to be accepted and fit in, though that becomes less relevant as the musical progresses. She very much needs the people around her to like her at the beginning, and has to overcome that to confront Beatrix.

Overall, Adamandi's got very Eye-heavy themes on the side of the school (the Administration, the Phaethon Prize and feeling of constantly being monitored, the feelingless analytical/experimenting approach that comes with testing out how these students of color fare in a mostly white environment and competition, etc.) and very Lonely-heavy themes on the side of the kids (no man is an island, the burden of independence leading to deteriorating mental health, the sense of constant competition, etc.).

-Elliot

#adamandi #the Magnus archives #tma #adamandi musical #vincent aurelius lin #beatrix valeria campbell #ambrose wellington bassford #portia elizabeth harper #answered #ceaslesswatcherwhatistboyswag

[leavandragon]

"Masquerain intimidates enemies with the eyelike patterns of its eyespots. If that doesn't work, it deftly makes its escape on its set of four wings."

Not sure what specifically made me want to draw Masquerain but I was feeling pretty peaceful this week and decided to give a try. It's an underappreciated pokemon, so I decided to appreciate it. I imagine that it'd be serene to see this type of creature fly through the sky.

#digital art #lineart #art #myart #fanart #leavanart #pokemon #medibang #medibandpaint #pokemon gen 3 #hoenn region #pokemon ruby and sapphire #pokemon emerald #masquerain #pokemon fanart #nuzlocke

[catilinas]

The examination of the figures in the collection of the Metropolitan and in other museums makes it clear that most, if not all, of them were covered with strong colors in patterns that are not always comprehensible to viewers today. When recognizable anatomical features were painted in locations that make sense to us (such as the mouth centered below the nose), we are prepared to see the traces of the painting in those areas. It is a greater challenge to accept similar evidence for asymmetrical designs or familiar shapes in the "wrong" locations (such as several eyelike almond shapes on one side of the face).

Elizabeth Hendrix, Painted Ladies of the Early Bronze Age

#also you can’t see it here but it’s in a diagram in the article. there’s also an eye on the back of the head and one on the leg :-) #beeps

[photogenic-strawberry]

What are your favorite types or moths?

OO MOTH

okay okay hmmmm

comet moths v cool! they have a tail span of 15 cm aswl so bigggg bois!

and deatgs head hawk moth are what i aspire to be they look really cool like whoa skullll and make a squeekkk if angry or irritated so kinda like me lol hawk moths are generally cool bc theres also the elephant hawk moth and those guys are such a big contrast to the deaths head hawk moths its giving she was punk he did ballet

look at ‘emmmmm

io moths!!! they have eyelike patterns to scare potential predators so like ominous creature watchinv youuu the larvas can also sting you

theyre relatively smol i think wingspan of 2.5 inches

annndd finallt white witch moths no specific reason just the vibes (plus the name probably)

thanks fpr asking i apologise for the vaguely long post!!!

[bluberrybenadryl]

[ bluberrypie ] RnB lovemaking

NAHOYA KAWATA X READER — Lovers — 1.3k words — whatever trey songs and BoysIIMen were talking bout

Both hands gripping your ass, he lifted you up with ease. The span of his hands was enough to seat you comfortably. The way he squeezed, it was almost as if he planned to open you up right there. “You got some nerve pouting at me like that,” he scolded, kissing your poked-out lip. Parting your lips with his own, Hoya’s soft plush mane of curls blocked the sloppy kiss he gave you. Carrying you into your bedroom, he wasted no time. With one kick, the door was closed and you were slung onto the bed.

The impact knocked some of the air from your lungs as you become suddenly aware of the point at which you’ve pushed him.

“In my defense,” you began. Just as you went to try to sass your way out of the inevitable, his soft culinary-trained hands stripped you bare. He marveled at your body. Sitting your hips at his, he traced every curved. Gently running his hands over your breast and down your sides, he parts your thighs with surgeon-like focus. “Hoya, baby,” you try and reason. Lacing your fingers into his, you sit up on your one elbow. “Shut up,” he ordered. Holding your hand tight, Hoya’s face disappeared under his peach mop and between your already restless legs. Unable to see, you gasp at the first warm caress of your clit.

“Na-,” you stuttered. His name got lost in the moans you tried holding back. Holding your thigh in one hand and your hand in the other, he hooked your legs onto his shoulders as he drooled into you. You knew he liked eating pussy. He’s told you how much he likes eating pussy. Still, your mind pulls a blank as you experience firsthand what his favorite hobby amounted to. Lodging his tongue into you as he sucked softly, the grazing of his teeth against your sensitive skin started to get overwhelming. “Hoy-ah,” you fumbled, falling off your elbows as your legs rose up and opened wider. Squeezing his hand, he returned his own reassuring squeeze. The simple action alone filled your walls with a warm ooze. Burying your newly free hand in his hair, your legs lock down on him. Pressing him in deeper, his alpha-numerical annunciation grew sloppier.

What were once words of adornment he spelled out, turned into animalistic slurping and gnawing. Pooling onto the sheets, the sounds of him drinking your pussy mixed with the exasperate moans you let slip free. Letting your hand slip from his, he set up. Holding your rocking hips in a close hug, he folded you like a limply-stuffed bear. Supporting yourself barely, you couldn’t tell what was more overstimulating; his tongue decimating your pussy or the way you couldn’t stop gagging on your own tongue. Either way, it didn’t stop the quivering between your thighs or the involuntary need to squeeze them shut. Toes curling, your heels pressed into his back as you're sent into a shaking mess. Stiff from your toes to your shoulders, his folds you again. This time, his hands wrapping around the backs of your knees. He gave them a good stretch and had them meet your ears as he came up for air. Eyelike an ocean untouched by man, his eyes glazed over you.

As if staring at a masterpiece painting, his sarcastic, punch-happy face melted into an adoring soft genuine smile. Breathing deeply, you regain a moment of clarity. Your grip on your silk sheets loosened as you got lost in his gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he complimented. His eyes drifted down to your sopping pink pussy. The lips he just finished sucking on were rouged and sensitive. Kissing them, he sprinkled the area with bite mark marks and hickeys. His trail of love marks continued to the front of your hips and up your torso as if to claim what was his. Face wet with your juices as he laid you under him. Kisses are gentle and somehow overstimulating. Tucking his arms into the arch of your back, he sat you up on his lap.

“Hoya,” you managed with a bite of your lip. Pulling his shirt over his head, he didn’t take too much time before returning his hands to your body. Tongue to tongue, he held you close as his finger divulged your inner folds. He was indeed a man focused on pleasing you. Never skipping the foreplay. Always making you cum first. Hoya was devoted to making you feel wanted and loved. Three knuckles deep, he didn’t flinch as you pulled his hair. In your escape up into the air, he began to suck on your nipples. His technique came through as he held you down onto his fingers. Pressing into your g spot with each slip of his hand, he emptied your juices into his smooth tattooed chest and onto his lap.

“Fu-“ you strained, struggling in his grasp as you had nowhere to go. “Fuck me harder,” you begged as his fingers slammed your pussy scoldingly. Moaning through clenched teeth, you practically knock him backward as he fucks you harder with his hand. “Cum-“ you elongated, panting with your pussy on his chest. Every muscle in your body quaked. Out of breath your mind slowly starts to slip, unable to track his movements or time. Patting the surrounding area for some indicator of reality, you feel something hot and thick press into your entrance.

“Hoy-,” you gasp as he guides your hips down into it.

“Too big,” you groan as it splinters a pain so specific you could figure out how to describe it. His hot throbbing cock dug its way deeper into your inner sanctum. “Gah-“.

“Breath, baby girl,” he coached. Hands holding onto your hips he lowered you further down on him.

“Fuck,” Your voice cracked. Nails dug into his wrist, and a mixture of gasps and moans echoed over the slow strokes you took. His hold on you remained gentle despite clawing the living hell out of his wrist. Rocking your hips, he assisted you as you rode him to high heaven. Heaving moans fluctuated with brain-numbing hiccups. Bouncing you up and down as he got you off, his low muffled moans were a baseline to your high-pitched melody.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “Me,” followed a hiccup as you tried fighting the muscle-cramping sensation deep inside you. “Har-der”. Your begging went on as he thrust deeper into you. Tongue dripping into your chest, your head fell back. You sounded like a loud client at a massage parlor with how he slammed into you. Just as you felt it pouring out, his gentle touch turned rough. With his chest pressed into yours, your legs are spread wide with fear-inducing speed. Unable to move your head, you struggle as he locked you into place, his cock hitting deeper than before.

“Close your mouth, baby girl,” he warned. Drooling you could quite put his warning to action as he slammed into your pussy. Squirming as something started to flow out of you, your screams of pleasure couldn’t compare to the uncontrollable gushing of your body. Shaking as he continued to pump into you, your sense bled into one another. You stopped being able to tell if you were smelling his scent or tasting your own sweat. The heat of his body on yours didn’t help as a new source of warmth boiled into you. “Hot,” you managed. You could feel his pulsating shaft as he pressed his sperm deeper into you.

“I’m hot,” you giggled as your legs fell from the sides of your head. Trembling in his arms, you couldn’t help but reach down between your legs. With his cock still inside you squeezed your legs shut in a giggly mess. “It’s hot inside,” your lethargic voice was met with a sweet kiss. Snuggling you close, he gently lifted you off his cock without taking you off his lap. “You made a mess”. His comment had you patting the burning sore entrance of your cunt, dipping your fingers into the oozing cream he left behind in you.

“Oopsie”.

Gift for my fantabulous friend @noriken !! Get your back broken and stay sassy my love 💙

#tr nahoya #nahoya x y/n #nahoya x you #tokrev nahoya #nahoya kawata #nahoya x reader #nahoya kawata smut #nahoya kawata x reader #kawata nahoya #[bluberry benadryl] #[ bluberrypie ] #tr smut

[legsfeeteyelike]

Superb 👌✔️.

#eyelike #green

[dungeonmastertyrant]

Espurr the Restraint pokemon a psychic type

1ft

7.7lbs

Ability: Keen Eye or Infiltrator Hidden Ability: Own Tempo

Egg Group: Field

Highest Base Stat:Speed:68

Lowest Base Stat: Attack:48

Base Stat Total: 355

Though Espurr's expression never changes, behind that blank stare is an intense struggle to contain its devastating psychic power. There's enough psychic power in Espurr to send a wrestler flying, but because this power can't be controlled, Espurr finds it troublesome.

At level 25 it evolves into Meowstic the Constraint pokemon a psychic type

2ft

18.7lbs

Ability: Keen Eye or Infiltrator Hidden Ability: (Male: Prankster Female: Competitive

Egg Group: Field

Male: Revealing the eyelike patterns on the insides of its ears will unleash its psychic powers. It normally keeps the patterns hidden, however. The defensive instinct of the males is strong. It's when they're protecting themselves or their partners that they unleash their full power.

Female: Females are a bit more selfish and aggressive than males. If they don't get what they want, they will torment you with their psychic abilities. If it doesn't hold back when it unleashes its psychic power, it can tear apart a tanker. Its unfriendliness is part of its charm.

#pokemon sas entries #espurr #meowstic

[cloudbattrolls]

In Cold Blood

This drabble is preceded by So Far to Fall and followed by No Rest for the Wicked.

Ullane Wistim & Epsilo Volant | Present Night | Winter Court

They were dozens of feet from the frozen ground, eyes tearing up and freezing from the cold, when tendrils of gooey matter wrapped around the pair of them and stopped them in their tracks.

Both trolls cried out, hurting from the jolt of the sudden stop, though the tendrils themselves were not painful - simply disgusting, a sickly yellowish green and warm to the touch.

“A pair of intruders!” Rasped the wielder of the tendrils as they reeled the pair in. The fae resembled a sort of hermit crab, almost, except the shell was like…layers of alveoli, tiny air sacs in lungs, all pressed together.

“What will we do with them?” They said in a mocking tone to their two fellows.

The other two fae looked different - a cluster of reddish pink eyelike markings on a being almost like a peacock with moth antennae. The other almost resembled a turtle, with a spiky shell, but it had an elongated body like a millipede and pincers on its reptilian face.

“Pluck their eyes out!” Called the peacock, splaying its tail. 

“No. The queen will want them intact for questioning.” Disagreed the turtle.

“The queen has failed us!” Retorted the raspy hermit crab. “All the world unbalanced, just to seal away two Growth spawn? We can question them ourselves!” 

Ullane closed her eyes as Epsilo’s mind raced. 

He couldn’t move no matter how he strained himself, and he suspected that if he tried, the mucus-like restraints might do worse than simply hold him still.

Then he felt the world…shift.

The snow around them melted in a bloom of heat that smelled of the ocean, of salt and rotting seaweed. It arced into a wave that crashed down over the fae as they screamed and shrieked in terror, the violet’s ears ringing from the noise.

The restraints holding them melted, and he fell to the now grassy ground with a thud and a grunt.

Ullane…Ullane dove through the water as it passed, the fae sizzling in its violet-tinged wake, and she landed on the hermit crab’s shell, eyes glowing magenta like beacons.

Then she pulled the creature apart, hand by hand, the pieces dissolving into pink goo as the creature writhed and thrashed. It landed blows on her with more extended tendrils that tore at her skin, but the yellow blood dripping down her body seemed to mean nothing to the medic.

In less than a minute it was nothing but a puddle in front of her as she panted and gasped, sodden with her caste but still standing.

The peacock rallied from its wounds and lunged at the lowblood. Epsilo dove for it, turning into a striped hyena as he snapped at the creature with his powerful jaws. It tasted foul as it wailed and writhed in his mouth, but he did not let go; he wrestled it on the wet, snow-melted earth as he felt the moisture begin to freeze in his fur.

It tore him open with its talons, but it weakened as he let go and then bit down again on its throat, despite the feel of its spongy flesh and the jelly-like sensation of its insides.

Then it folded in on itself, slipped out of his jaws, and broke into pieces and dripping gore as a ripple of music sounded for a few moments.

Shocked, Epsilo could scarcely process what had just happened.

Neither, it seemed, could the last fae, the grayish green turtle millipede who now trembled in place. His small reptilian eyes were wide and frightened as he looked past the highblood and spoke in a disbelieving, terrified voice. 

“No…he’s gone…he is muted, he does not sing! He is over, he slumbers!”

Ullane coughed, but as Epsilo slowly turned to look at her, to match the fae’s gaze, she also gave a yellow-stained smile.

Her own blood rose off her skin and clothes, from the ground it had dripped onto and frozen against, again carrying the stink of salt and rot, a great carcass washed up on a beach.

The fae wheeled around and fled.

Not fast enough.

The blood formed into a frozen, razor-sharp web and closed around the creature, cutting him into pieces that tried to shapeshift and free themselves, changing as the violet watched…changing too quickly, into yet more scattered arrangements of limb and head and eye.

In seconds they fell apart entirely and melted like the others.

The call of a hunting horn came, and Epsilo’s chill came from more than the ice in his gray and black fur.

As Ullane teetered on her feet, he ignored his wounds to go over to the medic, to lie down and, with difficulty, ease her onto his back. She did not object. Her eyes were shut again and blood had crusted beneath her nose; he suspected she might have fallen unconscious.

Epsilo did not think. He only ran from the horns as fast as he could with his injuries, praying his passenger would not fall off.

He felt tendrils of matter wrap themselves around him, securing her in place. Normally, he would have been deeply unsettled; right now, it was a relief.

South, he thought, remembering a discussion they’d had before they left the island. 

The fall court was next on their way to the place this angel-fae inhabited, a desert world called Sunrest. 

As he ran, the snow melted around him. Tiny, frozen plants unfurled and boomed. 

From Ullane’s unmoving lips, a sleepy, soft melody came, yet Epsilo instinctively knew that any fae who got too close would find it far less soothing than he did. He felt his wounds slowly closing and had no doubt as to the cause.

The power of Uryali Varzim. Even though his voice had long since been quieted. 

No wonder the fae still fear you, the violet thought, still running.

As the tundra turned to rocky, icy hills, he was forced to slow down. Snow fell around him as he climbed up the rough stone, tongue lolling out of his mouth from exertion as he finally stopped.

He looked behind him. Despite the thickening flurries, he could see the green line his path had cut through the white. 

The now-howling wind could not drown out Ullane’s soft song.

The werehyena sniffed the air, eyes and nose alert for any shelter he could find.

After minutes of searching among the frigid rocks, fur starting to frost over with small icicles, he wearily found a small cave he and his companion could fit into that had decent shelter from the wind and weather.

Epsilo turned back into a troll, and as he did, the tendrils tethering her dissolved. Convenient of them.

He placed Ullane on the stony floor and sighed. 

This woman…but there was no denying she’d saved his life even while she endangered it.

Her wounds had healed without a trace, but she still did not wake up. 

The former seadweller frowned, then shook her. 

A garbled string of noise came out of her mouth, her eyes glowing underneath her closed lids. Some of it almost sounded like troll language; the rest was incomprehensible or resembled animal cries.

“Wake up!” The violet commanded.

Her eyes at last fluttered open, and the song stopped.

“I'm awake.” She murmured. “They’ll come for us now. Uryali warned me he could only repel them as long as I slept.”

“I don’t care.” Said the highblood roughly. “You pushed yourself too far; your hair has more white in it than it did an hour ago. We can eat and drink, then -“

“No need. Uryali has adjusted our natural growth for the moment; our bodies preserved from physical need until we are back on Alternia.”

He scowled, but had no rebuttal; that was useful if unsettling. He realized with a stab of unease it was true; he was tired and cold, but had no thirst or appetite.

“There’s no moving on with that snowstorm out there.” He pointed out brusquely. “He can’t sing the weather away.”

“No.” She agreed. “But other fae will come for us. We’ll have to travel through the mountain, seal our path as we go to avoid them.”

“Through solid rock?” Epsilo said in disbelief. 

“Few things are truly solid here.” She murmured. “The courts are mostly made of magic and memories. The fae mirror what they lost to the empire.”

She pointed to the walls of the cave, which the ecologist now realized were painted with colorful symbols and scenes.

Beautiful ice sculptures. Intricate snow forts. Fae playing with each other, building homes and making food. 

The paintings were chipped and faded with the slow decay of millennia.

Epsilo shook his head. “We weren’t responsible for any of that.”

She laughed softly. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we have to flee.”

“Can you warm this place up a bit?” He said, shivering. His cold blood gave him some resistance, but he was - had been - a tropical seadweller.

Ullane smiled, and with a wave of her black-marked hand she sealed off the cave opening with a violet membrane that immediately started generating heat.

Epsilo eyed it with a resigned look, then took out two sleeping bags and curled up in one, handing the other to Ullane.

The yellowblood merely sat on it, humming while she leaned against the rocky wall, as the werehyena drifted off into an uneasy slumber. 

#cloud writes #maledict #ullane wistim #epsilo volant #ullane's doing great. she's thriving. #girlbossing even.

[adrianasunderworld]

Usually people looks for aesthetics relate a snake or parrots pokemons, but I can see Jamil receiving from the pokemon trainer!yuu a couple of Meowstic (male and female) because the psychic powers are of great help to him while he takes care of the dorm and Kalim and matches with the Viper's unique magic as it relates to the need for people to look into his eyes and Mewtics has eyelike patterns on the insides of its ears will unleash its psychic powers.

I mean to be fair sometimes the aesthetic choice the most sense sometimes. (She said while being guilty of this...)

But I like your idea. It makes sense for Jamil. I usually name the pokemon companions, I kind of want to call them Jewel and Cassim. Jewel because the jewels in the cave of wonders, and its a cute name. Cassim, in refrence to Aladdins dad. No other reason than I think he's neat. lol

Female meowstics tend to be the more serious of the two, so I'm picturing Jewel is the one who is not having it with Kalim and his antics. The queen of Scarabia. Where as Cassim loves Kalim because Kalim gives him treats despite Jamil saying he's spoiling him.

#twisted wonderland #twst pokemon au #jamil viper #pokemon au

[occasionaltouhou]

i feel like she has to have a sense of touch there, yeah. not sure about if it's as uncomfortable as poking your actual but it probably feels Weird. but i also do kinda feel like it's gotta be a bit eyelike. saying it's fleshy sounds weird but i do kinda picture it as fleshy. y'know

[enkisstories]

Sorting through the trash they had picked up around the cave, a metal cube with a glowing, eyelike sphere set into it caught the duo's attention.

Connor: "This looks like baby's first holocron. Let's hear what it has to tell us!"

Connor: "The secrets of the universe should remain secret. Bah!"

Gavin: "Did it say that? Bah?"

Connor: "Shut up and ask it something yourself!"

Gavin: "Did you specifically focus on learning secrets and stuff? Maybe one has to clear their mind and just wait for whatever comes out of this thing?"

Connor: "Be satisfied with the crumbs that fall off the table instead of reaching upwards? That's slave mentality, Gavin. Fourteen years into slavery is a bit late to develop one, so cut that shit out and get yours together!"

Gavin: "The cube said Maybe yes, maybe no. It's certainly possible."

Connor: "Sounds like Jedi gibberish to me. Do or don't, there is no try, that sort of thing."

Gavin: "Trying means attempting an action that's outcome is uncertain. If there is no try for a Jedi, does that mean they had perfect precognition and could always tell whether they'd succeed or not?"

Connor: "They were weak fools. Trying to make sense of their sayings is a waste of time."

Gavin: “But a Jedi holocron is all we’ve got...”

Connor: “Hm. We should explore the caves some more, this time with the holocron. It might reveal something.”

#sims4journeytobatuu #simblr #battleforbatuu1

[royalxiii]

Bellibolt

Category: EleFrog Pokémon​ Type: Electric​ Height: 3'11" (1.2 m) Weight: 249.1 lbs. (113.0 kg) Ability: Electromorphosis / Static

Its Belly-Button Dynamo Produces a Huge Amount of Electricity

Bellibolt expands and contracts its elastic body to generate electricity in an organ that looks like a belly button. The huge amount of electricity generated this way is then discharged from the two bumps on either side of its head that resemble eyeballs.​  Its actual eyes are adorably small and round, so when it tries to be intimidating, it puts the eyelike bumps to good use.​

Easygoing by Nature, It Doesn’t Notice an Opponent Until Attacked

It is difficult to train Bellibolt to initiate a battle without it being attacked first.​ After the sun sets, you can hear strange noises coming from Bellibolt’s habitat. This noise is not Bellibolt’s cries, but a sound emitting from their stomachs–it is known that this sound signals that they are hungry.​

New Ability: Electromorphosis

Bellibolt’s Ability, Electromorphosis, is a new Ability appearing for the first time in these titles. Bellibolt becomes charged when hit by an attack, boosting the power of the next Electric-type move it uses.

#gameblog #pokemon #pokémon scarlet #pokémon violet #bellibolt