#food not my

[ghoul-butch]

i love my fans 💚

(for context anon (blank account) is trying to figure out how to misgender me)

[bob-artist]

I had an upsetting dream last night.

[swati-art]

The winged lion possessed me to draw this

[podcastwizard]

cashier: ok that'll be $20

me (visibly sweating): ah, yes, of course! a perfectly reasonable price for a grilled cheese and a small smoothie! that was exactly the price i expected you to say when i ordered a single grilled cheese and a smoothie and my vision is NOT getting blurry as we speak! i am a perfectly normal temperature and my speech patterns are natural and even because this is the countenance of an individual who expected to pay 20 american dollars for a single grilled cheese and a smoothie!

cashier: where's all that blood coming from

[midnightt-vice]

Packed my husband a slice of cake with his work lunch and he sent me this

I am losing my mind over this.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[lordgroose]

my favorite work memory from this store will always be “hey remember when the subway inside the store closed down and they let me take a bunch of their shit for free and now it lives inside my house?”

my life is a joke

[ashoss]

patrol is fun :DD

[ydotome]

I've been wanting to taste this soup again for a long time. Thank you, everyone. Thank you. - Dungeon Meshi - Episode 23

[marlowe-art]

pink pomegranates & a plum! in a scribbly mood tonight :]

[pillowspace]

GIRLY JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT CYERCE ELEGANS

If Cyerce nigricans is a butterfly, then this is a fairy... Cyerce nigricans for comparison:

[oddarette]

Kimchi cats 𓃠⋆.˚✮

[nouverx]

"I want to eat you" is their love language and you can't change my mind

[maria-ruta]

based on this tweet

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.