#it's suddenly dry here

[stumblngrumbl]

installed the last* gate

ages ago after i tore out a huge blackberry bramble (it was about 10' high, 20' deep and 70' across; yes it made yummy blackberries but the thing is a bramble is only alive on the outside, inside it's ready to burn being dry canes and you can't get the fruit on the top of it) i installed the red gate that i found in an old junk pile that way predates us being here so that i could get to the other side of the fence (and pull resurgent blackberries, you never get it all)

the old fence that was there before the new fence was about a foot shorter than the mesh part of this fence, and all sorts of creatures just hopped right over it en route to snacking on chickens or orchard trees; the new fence keeps deer out (it's tall enough and our deer are too lazy to jump higher) and there's one line of "hot wire" (electric) that will zap climbers (it stings but won't kill, thankfully or i wouldn't be here from multiple shocks including recently when i forgot about it)

so i made these gates to more or less match the pattern of the fence, and when we refenced the whole* land i put in the occasional gate because it's a pain to have to go a long ways to get to the other side of the fence for whatever reason (in the past: when a chicken has flown up into a tree and decided being on the other side of the fence was a cool thing to do and then regretted that decision, not remembering the path it took to get there)

the red gate not only had the wrong aesthetic but it wasn't tall enough. when i re-ran the fence, the top three wires went across uninterrupted; if you look closely you'll see that the metal posts next to the gate have been extended by a foot as they were originally chosen for the short gate and earlier this year i extended them; saturday i chopped the top wires and terminated them at either side of the gate and then swapped the gates.

*: i lie - the fence around the land is only about 98% replaced; there's still a bit on either side of the gate at the end of the driveway that needs to be swapped out, and that gate itself is going to get replaced, and moved, as it's (a) ugly (b) too short and so things once again can hop over it though they usually don't and finally (c) in a stupid place and so i'm going to build a new gate for that, plus a smaller gate that will go to the side for people to easily pass through at the front

[sinnamonpork]

Dabi getting deaged but its into his teenage self. I want the League(and also Hawks) to deal with this bratty, very explosive teenager who's so different from the aloofness of Dabi they have gotten used to. Oh shit he's crying now? Quick, leave him with Tomura, he'll know what to do. Lmao just the League passing him around like a hot potato because young Touya would cry at the smallest of inconveniences. Everyone thinks they're doing something wrong because Dabi has never been like that - no one knowing his tear ducts are burned shut.

I want a Touya that becomes a blushing mess when he meets Hawks, suddenly turning shy and stuttery - even going as far as to hide behind Mr. Compress - and not making any eye contact with the hero. Normal Dabi is already a simp for the pretty bird. Imagine a Touya riding on teenage hormones seeing the full beauty of Hawks. Anyways, Touya and Toga spend the rest of the day trying to find ways to attract the pretty hero, Toga finding it sooo romantic and cute. Keigo just wants to be freed from the torment of having his crush's teenage self be a total cutie pie - is he doing a mating dance?? - when it is very much illegal to event think about anything nsfw relating to the teen. Hawks is trying to be a villain, but there are some lines you don't cross.

Or on a more angstier note, this happened post reveal and everyone is aware that Dabi is Touya, but it never really registered how bad a 13 year old burning alive really is. 16 year old Dabi is scared and feral from living on the streets, not trusting anyone at all and always carrying a knife around. He startles easily at fires and big forests, memories of pain and more pain coming back to haunt him. I want Hawks to make the mistake of mentioning Endeavor, because in his mind the no. 1 hero would always be a safe space for young kids and the like - forgetting that the person in front of him literally burned alive due to the hero. Just Hawks and the League dealing with a very skittish Touya that is ready to run or shank somebody in the thigh if they get too close, being slapped in the face of what years of abuse and trauma by the no. 1 hero does to a person. Dabi hides it well, but Touya isn't really Dabi yet, is he?

[ukitakejuushiro]

Aqua Timez - Sen no Yoru wo Koete / THE FIRST TAKE

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

ok i think the best part of the drk quests overall though is the point whenever you open up your journal midway through and abruptly realize that your wol has started taking notes in a completely different voice

[altschmerzes]

🌹💐🌺🌸🌸🌹🌻🌸🌸🌸🌹🌹🌹🌻🌻🌹 a bouquet for something Roy and Jamie from wiggle up on dry land? 🙏

OKAY SO. THIS IS. LONG. BUT SOMETHING TELLS ME YOU PROBABLY WON'T MIND. so here, take this, from a LONG ways ahead, in the like, mid-season 2 area of the timeline in wriggle up on dry land-

It’s one of the stranger moments of Roy’s life, this one. He’d acted without thinking, following an instinct he didn’t know he had and wasn’t prepared to reckon with being in him in the first place and doing something he suddenly knew he needed to do without considering the implications or consequences. It’s something that he’s done time and again when it came to Jamie specifically, and it’s only gotten more unsettling the more it happens. And now here Roy is, standing in Rebecca’s office, the unwieldy burden of a deeply asleep sixteen year old in his arms and absolutely no idea how he’s going to get down to his car.

There are stairs between Rebecca’s office and the car park, for one. For another, Roy’s got a permanent injury to one of his legs and today has not been a particularly good day on that front. And, while Jamie’s lighter than Roy would honestly have hoped he would be, and he hadn’t had trouble picking him up off the couch, it’s going to be different as soon as he tries to walk farther than the distance across the office floor. It’s a dilemma. Roy is stuck in a situation with a sick boy he needs to get home so he can be properly looked after and the thought of waking him up to walk to the car is a prospect that makes Roy himself feel ill just contemplating it. The answer should be obvious. Jan Maas is right there in the doorway, having been sent after him by Ted for exactly this reason, and the thing about Jan Maas is that he is about eight feet tall and and built like he plays American fucking football. Jamie is willowy and short for his age. Stairs or no stairs, Jan would not have a problem carrying him down to Roy’s car - honestly, could probably carry him all the way to Roy’s house without breaking a sweat. Roy’s knee hurts and Jan is enormous and Jamie isn’t that heavy. It’s a no-brainer. A non-issue. Even so, Roy doesn’t move. He stands there in the middle of Rebecca’s office, frozen into complete stillness despite the increasing ache in his knee, the awareness that if he tries to take another step carrying an extra person with him it will not withstand the strain, and a complete unwillingness to pass his burden over. It’s a no-brainer, a non-issue, but Roy can feel Jamie’s forehead against his neck and it’s damp and hot. The boy has a fever and he’s sick, limp and asleep in Roy’s arms and there’s this panicky little corner of Roy’s brain that is convinced that the only place in the world that Jamie is safe, even close to safe, is while Roy is holding him. He’s aware this is stupid and ridiculous for all kinds of reasons, but knowing that doesn’t make that panicky little shriek any quieter or make his body any more willing to move. There’s something calculating in Jan’s eyes - they’re a cold and piercing grey-blue that never seem to miss much, even when Roy wishes they would. Roy shifts Jamie a bit, holding him a bit higher, a bit tighter, and waits for the inevitable. Jan knows Roy is reluctant to pass the boy over, and that he has no real reason to be so, and Jan is Jan, which means that any moment he’s going to start rattling off all the reasons why giving Jamie to him is the obvious solution and Roy is doing nothing but wasting everyone’s time. When Jan does speak, Roy blinks at him, uncomprehending. He can’t process what’s just been said, and he shakes his head a little like that will clear his ears or his head or something. The movement draws a faint whine from the still-unconscious kid and Roy hushes him with a duck of his cheek against the top of Jamie’s head. “I said, I will be careful,” Jan repeats, obviously aware that Roy hadn’t understood what he said. He sounds just as straightforward and frank as he always does, he doesn’t speak delicately or talk around the ridiculous problem he’s addressing, but he doesn’t mock either. He doesn’t make fun. All he says, looking right at Roy with a steady, clear calm, is, “I promise. I will be gentle and careful with him. You have my word.”

[fisheito]

It's not fair that omusubi818 is so far away How am i supposed to throw my entire life savings at them

[ruthlesslistener]

Have you tried ye old baby powder

yes but the problem is that theyre coming out from like, all along the walls so i cant fuckin get all the places theyre coming in from. i lay it down along as far as i can reach and then they come out of a different wall. im so tired

[unproduciblesmackdown]

better documenting the lore from the 1:20:00 mark of this podcast episode ft. joe iconis:

"The, um, my—my musical, uh, Be More Chill, which has, there's—there's a lot in…its DNA that is—is very similar to, uh, to Little Shop, and on—we, y'know, we closed on, uh, we closed on Broadway in, y'know, summer of 2019, and it was, um, it w—it was hard, because, y'know, it's—I've been in the business for a while, and I—I'm pretty scrappy, and I—I—I do shows with, like, y'know, like, a lot of the same people, I have this sort of family of artists who I do stuff with, and, um, so, y'know, Be More Chill was our first—our first really big thing, and—and so it—y-y'know, the closing was hard, and, um… The—the show ended, and I did this sorta song on the stage of the theater, and everyone was crying and everything, and someone—someone came up to me, and they were like, 'Um, Rick—Rick Moranis is here.' And I was like, 'What?!'" "Oh my god…" "'Yeah, Rick Moranis, like, randomly came to see the show today. D'you wanna meet him?' And I was like, 'Yeah!' And so it was this bizarre thing where Rick Moranis just popped up. The—" "Oh my lord." "The final performance on Broadway—as if, like, yeah, some—some, y'know, some amazing a-angel of nerdy, sci-fi horrordom…just appeared." "I'm so jealous." "Yeah, that's incredible."

[cagethemunson]

holy fuck just had the worst nosebleed of my life

[butterfrogmantis]

I love engaging with people that genuinely want to ask me for advice to improve their freehand art cause heck - me too dude!

But deep down I want to grip them very gently by the shoulders and straight up admit that one of the best things I can draw to practice such a thing has weighed down the chains I’ve forged in life with sins a thousandfold since I was 17

[izzy-b-hands]

maybe I'll just walk down to the river and have a good long scream. i wont, bc it's still dangerously cold out, but maybe if i imagine it that's close enough

[un-bean-lievable]

I maxed out on tags 😭. Anyways I also just find purses annoying to wear and inconvenient. Also if your going about and buying things especially do you just carry around all that stuff?

@ people who carry bags everywhere what do you put in them what is there to bring other than chapstick, keys, phone and maybe a tampon why are you packing a suitcase to be outside for 5 hours

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

That guy in the van has more of a social media presence than he realizes.

[yuumei-art]

Happy Halloween! 🎃

More Witch Hat Atelier Fanart~ I suddenly had an urge to paint Coco's swirly hat as transparent, like water.

Not sure if Brush Buddy is happy to be safe and dry inside the hat or trapped in a hat made of water 😂

Here's a quick timelapse (sorry the quality is low res still, I'm trying to figure out a better way to do this since SAI that doesn't have a built in timelapse feature.) The full video recording is in high res and hours long. It will be DMed on Patreon on Nov 5th!

[orcelito]

Flossing my teeth and getting in the gums like Yes I'm going to get a good grade in dental care. Which is normal to want and possible to achieve.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.

tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k

you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.

you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.

you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.

the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.

you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.

after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.

his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.

sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.

the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.

“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"

you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.

“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.

“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.

sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”

despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.

“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.

though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.

“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.

you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”

sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.

the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”

here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.

you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.

no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.

you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.

sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.

the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”

you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.

“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.

“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.

“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.

he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.

after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.

sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.

“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.

it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.

if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.

before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.

the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.

sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.

uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.

“where are you going, hubby?”

you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.

“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.

you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.

“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”

sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.

your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.

“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.

that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of your relationship.

you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.

you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.