#i went to college

[palatteflags]

Doug Lawrence and Plankton from Spongebob based moodboard~ ^^ For an anon!! Hope you like it!

Want one? Send an ask! -mod Jay

[lauralot89]

why is there so much bureaucracy in crochet

why do I have to do like seven things for a single stitch

[shadow-gear]

This manga is too real

[melancholicmarionette]

My current WIP back in high school: lmao what if there was a magic school for magical creatures and an undead guy came back to life. It’s gonna be so edgy and dark and the theme is that death is cool and humans are dumb

My WIP now, in 2023: lmao what if there was a magic school for magical creatures and also an undead guy got brought back to life and he learns about processing trauma and learning there is strength in simply enduring and life is beautiful and worth it. And there’s like underlying themes of the inherent value of learning to exist peacefully in your body and attacking prejudice and also ACAB and also he’s so fucking gay

[xiaq]

Fun story. When I was actively being stalked (both online and IRL), I contacted the police exactly one time. I showed them the physical notes that had been left under the wiper blade on my car after I blocked the man on social media. I showed them the previous Facebook messages this man had sent me that described, in detail, what he wanted to do to me.

The police said they couldn’t help me because the man had not actually physically done any of those things to me. He’d just talked about his desires. They even made excuses for him. He’s awkward. He’s lonely. You’re pretty. It’s a compliment.

So friendly reminder that when a man with a record and weapons makes verbal/written threats against a woman, there’s nothing police can do.

But when a frustrated woman being denied medical coverage with no record and no weapons makes a “verbal threat” against a corporation, she’s arrested immediately.

[stripesnbooks]

Look, as someone who was a paper science major and studied every aspect of paper processing from tree harvesting to how paper recycling works (poorly), this is good stuff! But keep in mind that specialty paper products like toilet paper, paper money, and the majority of paper used for art/ printing will not be able to use this. Most "brown paper" is made from the low quality or very lightly (relative to most paper products) processed wood already. This is a great addition to that kind of process! And making paper from leaves is a very different process!

But paper making in general is incredibly sustainable, as they replant trees constantly and make use of pretty much every part of the tree and the by products, to power the plant, assist in different stages, and recycle into different industries. The paper plant stink (in modern times and for much of recent history) is completely harmless.

The "danger" of paper to our environment lies with distribution, trucks and trains, but the same problem as every other product besides locally grown food. Some office paper does use more chemicals than is necessary, in a [stupid] pursuit of white paper (for the sole purpose of advertising how white their paper is, which sounds good to some people), but even then it's trees and bleach. And clay. Don't ask why.

Anyway, different paper needs to be made from different plants with different properties and this is good! And fine! It's one of the most sustainable industries on the planet! The end.

"Businesses like to talk about the concept of a closed loop or circular economy, but often they’re trying to close small loops. Releaf Paper takes dead leaves from city trees and turns them into paper for bags, office supplies, and more—which is to say they are striving to close one heck of a big loop.

How big? Six billion trees are cut down every year for paper products according to the WWF, producing everything from toilet paper to Amazon boxes to the latest best-selling novels. Meanwhile, the average city produces 8,000 metric tons of leaves every year which clog gutters and sewers, and have to be collected, composted, burned, or dumped in landfills.

In other words, huge supply and huge demand, but Releaf Paper is making cracking progress. They already produce 3 million paper carrier bags per year from 5,000 metric tons of leaves from their headquarters in Paris.

Joining forces with landscapers in sites across Europe, thousands of tonnes of leaves arrive at their facility where a low-water, zero-sulfur/chlorine production process sees the company create paper with much smaller water and carbon footprints...

“In a city, it’s a green waste that should be collected. Really, it’s a good solution because we are keeping the balance—we get fiber for making paper and return lignin as a semi-fertilizer for the cities to fertilize the gardens or the trees. So it’s like a win-win model,” [Valentyn] Frechka, co-founder and CTO of Releaf Paper, told Euronews.

Releaf is already selling products to LVMH, BNP Paribas, Logitech, Samsung, and various other big companies. In the coming years, Frechka and Sobolenka also plan to further increase their production capacity by opening more plants in other countries. If the process is cost-efficient, there’s no reason there shouldn’t be a paper mill of this kind in every city.

“We want to expand this idea all around the world. At the end, our vision is that the technology of making paper from fallen leaves should be accessible on all continents,” Sobolenka notes, according to ZME Science."

-via Goodd News Network, August 15, 2024

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[maddyaddy]

🎓

[trash-goddess]

One of the worst things about being a teenager is being infantilized. You are expected to be (reasonably) responsible for yourself but do not have any of the respect, resources nor decision making power that comes with it such responsibilities as an adult.

Being an adult with a fully functioning brain, and the having the respect, resources, decision making power and responsibilities is a delightful experience. Taking control of my life and living on my own terms has made every aspect of my life much more manageable.

So. As a twenty four year old. Who works full time, and thus has saved and paid off my student loans. Who is capable of managing my finances, groceries, and living a healthy lifestyle. Who is by all accounts, a reasonable adult. I find myself frustrated by seeing myself described as a child who is incapable of making such decisions has become incredibly frustrating. It showcases a lack of maturity and understanding!

I refuse to be dragged back down into childhood by people who have never even met me and do not know what is best for me.

And you can take my voting rights from my cold dead hands.

[mipexch]

two themed map for design class :) they are very happy to be here

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

[lotus-pear]

free will is drawing ur two favorite characters together and making them gay

[secretmellowblog]

Every time I read Les mis I’m stunned by Grantaire’s accurate representation of “the kind of person who goes to art college then realizes they don’t actually want to pursue art as a career and becomes an aimless pretentious bundle of media-related information.” It’s so spot-on. That Type Of Guy is just timeless and has not changed since the 19th century

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[unhappy-sometimes]

here's a playlist of (mostly) historically accurate love songs that twiyor has most definitely danced to on vinyl: youtube, spotify, apple music

some fast, some slow, some made for dancing, others probably not (but i still like them so i included them anyway), i'll add songs as i think of them

[acourtoffeyandfables]

Do we think there is one extremely allergic child in every Aabria Cinematic Universe and if yes, who is it in ACOFAF?