#a world that is edible

[clownishgraveyard]

idksterling be like

this man is already dead

and he's in the frutiger aero realm

[akai-akai]

tf141 assisting in a drug bust, except the drugs get lit on fire and they're accidentally breathing in the fumes and getting high as fucking balls.

Johnny is MIA, chased some fucking wild animal off into the brush and he's not answering comms.

Kyle is having a crisis, nearly in tears as he yells "I promised my mum I'd never do drugs!!" at the ground as if it's the dirt's fault he's fucking baked.

Simon is sitting on the ground, head in his hands, not speaking a word and sitting so still he could be mistaken for a highly realistic mannequin.

John is squinting at each of them, can't focus his eyes, blurting out "where the fuck is Soap?" after doing the 9th headcount. Doesn't realize he's been leaning way off to the side and tilting his head with each headcount until he almost loses his balance.

And Laswell. Poor Laswell. She's directing the extraction team with minimal help from any of these idiots, pinching the bridge of her nose and wondering how much paperwork this is going to end up in.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

based on that one video of the news reporter high as fuck as a ton of drugs are burning behind him, it's one of my favorite news videos

[just-your-average-cryptid]

most of us have heard of the red car game. you’re on a road trip, you’re bored, you start looking for red cars to do something.

and then they’re everywhere. you notice them nearly every few minutes.

there aren’t suddenly more red cars now, of course. you were seeing them already, but you weren’t noticing. you weren’t looking.

I am noticing things.

there is a plant I notice everywhere now, a small bushy plant in suburbs, along streets, by shops on the highways. dwarf umbrella bush is what the internet tells me when I look for it’s name. I did this because I wanted to know why,

every time I ever saw it, every place,

it was always dying. always the leaves turning yellow, the branches small and scraggly. inside out - nitrogen deficiency. their soil drained.

I am noticing how many of these landscaping plants are yellowing, how small and sickly they look in just a few years. I am noticing how often the grass outside the house is replaced when it once again turns brown and dry, how the type never changes and the cycle starts again. I am noticing how the unmowed, unkempt spaces on lakesides and roadsides look more alive than this. how the preserve I grew up next to was miles of “messy” unmanicured nature and the ground was covered in leaves instead of grass and there was life.

I am noticing the birds that come by the lake. there was a flash of blue wings and red chest - eastern bluebird, male, relatively common. I had never seen one before. there is a family of ducks that appear every spring; i cannot say if it’s successive generations or different ducks, but I can always look forward to ducklings. there are little brown birds with white heads whose names I do not know - are they some kind of piper? why don’t I already know?

why is it so hard to learn about my native plants (accurately, that is)? why are so many gardening sites littered with people who think a plants value is based on how pretty or useful it is to them, who think a tree shedding leaves is “messy”?

why is knowing about the world we live in so… odd? why is it a hobby and not vital knowledge? I learned about polar equations. I taught myself about mycorrhizal networks and species of insects.

(did you know there are shiny green bees? a special species of wasp pollinating figs? that white flowers bloom at night for moths? do you know? have you looked?)

I cannot look at a lawn and see life anymore. it is a wasteland, devoid of life, dying slowly itself. everywhere is grass, grass, doused in water that runs over into storm drains, soaked in fertilizer and pesticides and a hundred other poisons and sending one clear message:

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

I do not think I could live in a city. too loud, yes, too busy, yes, too many people, yes, but the plants would bother me. a tree allotted only a convenient square, surrounded by dead stone and metal.

a forest cleared for this, for burning asphalt streets and racing cars and shops whose bathrooms are “for paying customers only”.

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

and now I am noticing.

[lobotomize-d]

School doobles 😎

[excessive-moisture]

Gourmand is the only slugcat that can canonically make meals but I think the others try too

[nipuni]

Weekly photo blog update! Ramble about these and life under the cut 😊

We found this amazing collection of books from 1945 about historical fashion second hand for super cheap! It's illustrated, in color, and in excellent condition, I'm over the moon 🥰 also the antique book fair is back in the city and we can't wait to go visit, I'll probably go next week so I'll share more later! although I really need to stop getting books, I've been out of bookshelf space for months now and they already took over half of the dinning table 😆

This little shop in the photos is where we get spices and dried fruit and it's very pretty so I thought I would share

Today we went out for sushi to one of our favourite places! It's venezuelan-japanese fusion and it's so so good, the drink is papelon con limon and I highly recommend it!

And last are these amazing thrift finds!! The skirt and sweater are perfect aaaaa I'm going to style so many autumn outfits soon after the weird heat wave passes, I can't wait!!

On a more depressing note, yesterday was my father's first birthday since his death a couple of months ago, and I also saw his tomb for the first time, my aunt sent me a picture at the graveyard and it's such a strange sight, seeing his name on a cross on the ground feels unreal. I try not to think about it too much, it's like if I stop running or look back it will catch up with me. We lit a candle last night with Nicolas and talked about him, it's getting easier to remember the good over the bad with time so I'm happy about that 😊

I hope everyone is having a great beginning of autumn!

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: 18+, minors dni. a little crack-ish. suggestive content. weed usage.

“You ever tried this?”

Toshinori stares at the small, pungent-smelling cookie held in your outstretched hand. “Tried what, marijuana?”

‘“Marijuana,’” you taunt, snickering as you reach to tap him lightly on the ass before hastily retreating to the edge of the kitchen, attempting to avoid retaliation. “I swear to god you say it like a fuckin’ cop. Although, I mean, you kinda were, sorta like, the world’s premiere cop. So I guess that tracks.”

“Honeybear, I wasn’t a cop, you’re being absurd.”

You throw your head back and let out a groan. “I know you weren’t a cop, love. I’m just exaggerating. Anyway, you do say it like a cop, I’m telling you.”

“What do you want me to call it, then?” He furrows his brow, still exaggeratedly rubbing his backside where you’d swiped at him.

“I dunno.” You sink down to the floor, sitting cross-legged against the counter. “Pot? Weed? Literally anything else, you square.”

“Square?” He places a hand on his hip, long wooden spoon still clutched in his fist, and scowls. “I’m not square.”

“Well you never answered my question.” You flop sideways on the wooden floor, tapping your fingers on the faux-wood panels.

His brilliant eyes darken slightly, his lips just barely parted as if to speak. A deep flush spreads across his face, and he quickly turns away from you, suddenly intensely interested in his pasta sauce while he grumbles under his breath.

“Toshi? Toshi.” You slowly rise up from the floor like a freshly-resurrected ghoul and pad across the kitchen to stand in front of him, poking your finger lazily at his cheek. “You have, haven’t you?”

“I’m not answering that,” he mumbles into the steaming pot of sauce, gently batting your hand away.

“Why, in case the apartment is bugged?” you cackle.

“No, of course not.” He glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, sets his wide hands on the counter. “That’s not it.”

You cock your head and smile softly, running your hand up and down his sinewy forearm. “Toshi. I’d hope you’d know you can trust me by now. I’m not gonna go to the tabloids and blab about every little secret you tell me, I’m not a fuckin’ snitch. Besides”—you lightly trace your fingers over the veins on the top of his hand—“if I was gonna do that, don’t you think I’d tell them about something more interesting first, like how big your dick is or something?”

He chokes on a mouthful of spit and turns to glare at you and your damned shit-eating grin. He shakes his head and sighs, smiling at you resignedly. “Of course I’ve tried it.”

Your eyes widen and your loud gasp fills the room. “Seriously? When?”

“When I was in America.” He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “I did manage to have a little fun while I was over there, you know.”

“You mean to tell me… All Might was a pothead?” you cackled, the cookie you nibbled at earlier starting to make this whole situation even more comical than it already was.

“Keep your voice down!” He places a long finger on your lips to shush you. “I wasn’t a—a pothead. I just enjoyed myself a bit. It was a different time then for me. For everyone I guess.” His eyes stare off past you somewhere as he pauses for a moment, his finger dragging down your lips. “It that really so hard to believe of me?”

“I dunno, a little.” You kiss the tip of his finger. “You just seem so, you know.”

“No, I don’t think I do know,” he says, his voice low, as he settles his hands on your waist and pulls you a little closer into him, your body just barely brushing against his cooking apron. “Why don’t you enlighten me, hm?”

“Well,” you start, your hands settling on his chest, “you seem a little… straight-laced sometimes.”

He leans down, kisses you softly along your jaw, down your neck. “Straight-laced, huh?”

“Okay, maybe—ah—maybe that’s not the word I’m looking for.”

He laughs, whispering hotly in your ear, “Do you mean ‘old,’ sugarpop?”

“No! God, no.” You exhale heavily, thoughts of Toshi—his past, his life before you—running through your mind like a melancholy newsreel, while his large hand caresses your forearm. “I just mean, like. You had the world resting on your shoulders. Didn’t seem like you had a lot of time to enjoy yourself, you know?”

“No, I suppose I didn’t,” he breathes into your neck before snatching the rest of the cookie out of your hand and holding it to his lips, grinning at you. “Good thing I have all the time in the world now, wouldn’t you agree?”

[journeythroughjourneytothewest]

"Man, why is Tang Sanzang crying all the time?"

Almost every single yaoguai within a 100 mile radius of him at all times:

[probablyasocialecologist]

Yum Bug have found that the much-touted sustainability of insect production depends largely on economies of scale. A cricket farmed in Vietnam, for example, where one facility produces 150 tonnes of insects a week, can have a smaller carbon footprint than one farmed in the UK. “Transport emissions actually make up a fraction of the total carbon of most protein sources,” says Thomas. “About 5% of the carbon is from the transport. That’s nowhere near enough to make up the difference in the optimisation of the general farm practices.” Eating insects – AKA entomophagy – has a history stretching back centuries. People in more than 100 countries regularly consume bugs from more than 2,000 species. Most of these insects are still harvested from the wild. Farming on an industrial scale is a recent innovation, but it holds tremendous possibilities for the future of our global diet. Crickets need only to consume about 1.7kg of feed to produce 1kg of food, compared with 4.5kg of feed for a kilo of chicken, 9.1kg for pigs and 25kg for beef.

7 August 2024

[st4rrmii]

I wanna bite Ben's nose off his face and devour it like a little snack

[bee-makes-a-heart]

a vampire named eden

originally posted: oct 20 2022

[bonebabbles]

@quaelgeist333 Yeah! It's nothing special lmao. I have a group of friends who're a perfect gradient of Minecraft Experience from "hasn't played since they added coral" to "seasoned Botania expert", and we all decided we wanted to play with a basic server together. I'm actually a bit of an enthusiast so I decided to make us a personal modpack tailored to what each of us tends to like in video games.

I've made crummy mish-mashes of different mods before, but this time I'm doing a LOT to add compat. Conflict name resource packs, crafttweaker scripts, I'm even running Expanded Nametags and adding stuff myself so I can minimize how much time they spend having to check a wiki.

It's not like I'm actually making compat mods or anything, since I don't know Java. But it's honest work

[mothocean]

dungeon meshi but they're in the fearpocalypse. do you see my vision

[kuebiko-writing]

Writers, keep posting snippets of your work! I scroll like a goldfish on drugs, but I stop to read the snippets because they are short and within a paragraph, I get to know a bit about your writing. And boy, is the writing good.

[ratzhatz14]

Waiter, waiter! More SW lore please!/nf

OH GOD HOW LONG AGO WAS THIS???

Uhmm.. Great news!!1!!1 I had the most RANDOM AND STRONGEST motivation/idea boost for Sprout's World which.... Lasted for a short while... BUT I MANAGED TO MAKE MORE LORE RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

[[quick note; thankz for the concern Redzania, but dw, it's just an average Wednesday afternoon <3333]]

First time not adding the "Click for More..." Button..

ITS ZO BIZZARE???

Anyways...

I decided to make the scarf arm have a small backstory, actually gave dandy a proper death (because hippity hoppity your world is now Sprout's property), gave a reason behind Sprout being an Ayano Aishi wannabe fella, and ruined shellevision in this au

[[The crossed out part is me not being sure what to actually add there1!!11!1!1!1!1!1!!1!1!1!1!11111111!!!1!!!!!!!!!1!1!1!1]]

[[why did I actually add this?]]

[[ANYWAY- BELOW IS BLOOMED SHELLY, SO HAVE FUN LOOKING AT WHAT I DONE TO HER]]

First design for her.... Ermmmmm what the plant

BETTER versions

+uhm mini info I think

In the red drawing, I scrapped the head, and the one colored with black & green is the preferred one!1!!1

YURI IS NOW DOOMED IN THIS AU RAAHAHAHAHHAHA

Me with SW shelly

[luck-of-the-drawings]

(OLD OC SKETCHES) Meet Sunnabelle Von Sunnoviche, final daughter of the Sunnoviche family. Peeking from behind a window, she witnessed a wizards final spell, one that reduced the world to a wasteland. Her noble blood damned her to [HELL], but unwanting to suffer with her family, she made a deal with the devil. She now hunts in his name. The top of her head was taken by the blast on that day. The fires of her spirit have boiled her blood into a super-heated plasma.