#yummy dirt

[sol-consumer]

Do you feel it?

The pull of the dirt?

The soil speaks

Of love and company

Of being held in the dark.

I was always afraid of small spaces,

But the Earth is so large.

Even confined in a coffin of mud

I can taste freedom.

Worms.

Crawl into the mud,

Let it cherish you

And squeeze the rot from your lungs.

It will fill them with all the loveliest sludge.

Breathe it in—that cool, cool muck.

[number-1-haxorus-fan]

Haxorus posting

[a-gay-cat]

yo this ice cream slaps

[goosefreeshart]

Gang it's fall out boy o'clock and I'm eating dirt

[sew-much-to-do]

DIY Dirt Cups

Chocolate pudding mixed with whipped topping and layered with crushed Oreos make these Dirt Cups. They're topped with gummy worms.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

sew-much-to-do: a visual collection of sewing tutorials/patterns, knitting, diy, crafts, recipes, etc.

[bad-cos-ideas]

Some creatures become detrivores, being able to eat the terrain that makes up the world of Sonaria and carve through the map.

Minawii also gets this trait, but still retains its omnivorous qualities. I just imagine that minawii is a decomposer.

Good afternoon, trypophobia! How are you today? Don’t mind the holes, it’s just creatures eating dirt!

🦐

[bigeggman3000]

Eated dirt

[paranormalcryptid]

Listen, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot is so attractive. Like I want to bite his head clean off just *chomp* yk ?

[boruwa-sranie]

project voltage scrafty miku!!

remade her cause I didn't like my first take on her that much...

had a lot of fun with this one tho! I made it look more like the official art this time

hope this one doesn't flop fr bruuuh 🙏

[phagodyke]

feeling better now I spent like 2 hours browsing fragrantica and found samples of a few intriguing ones on lucky scent + it's my payday tomorrow so I'm going to treat myself to that :3

[livfastdieyoung69]

ROCKSTARS NEVER DIE-

(A Nikki Sixx Story. Ch.1)

A knock pounded on the wooden door. Rowan ignored it, they always did anytime before four in the evening. Another knock followed by a frustrated yell of their name (which didn’t have to travel through the door thanks to the fist-sized hole) shortly comes, then a groan, before the person on the other side gives up and stickz their hand through the hole, unlocking the door themselves.

“Rowan.” They scold, a hand on their jutting hip. Rowan didn’t budge. They crept over to the mattress on the floor. “Rowan!” A groan left their mouth after a kick was swiftly delivered to their rib cage. It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if it weren't for the pair of freshly cleaned, white Keds on the person who sent it.

“What the fuck do you want, Holly…” Rowan finally turned over, removing their face from the grimy pillowcase.

“You promised to help out at the diner today, remember? Kelly can’t come in and I said you could.” When she receives nothing but a pissed scoff, Holly continues. “All of the dumb rockstar guys coming down from the rest of the strip like you anyways.”

“That’s cause I am one of the dumb rockstar guys.” Rowan finally sat up, their feet meeting the ground for a second before retreating from the freezing floor. They were never one for the mornings, or being woken up at all, so it was no suprise to Holly they were being bitchy. “No one's gonna be out anyways, it’s the fucking morning in case you haven’t noticed.” Ro grumbles behing a sigh, rubbing at their tired eyes.

“It’s seven pm, Rowan. We have to be there at seven-thirty. And please put something on that isn’t leather!” Holly hollered the last sentence as they left the dirtied room. Rowan let out another groan, their hands from their face and through their hair before a quick stretch that sends them stumbling to the pile of clothes on the floor, muttering about how they’ll wear whatever the hell they want.

They quickly left their room after choosing a pair of torn-up jeans with a leather lace-up instead of a zipper for no other reason but to spite Holly and just wore the loose tank top of some strip-famous band, Chastain, they had fallen asleep in the night before. At the sight of the terrible 70s furniture and bright lights, they left the living room even faster than their room in search of a lighter, thankfully they’d found a pack of crumpled Newports in their jeans, and the pot of probably cold coffee.

“We gotta go, Ro. And you’re not smoking in my car, so can you please just wait until you get a break or something?” They responded with nothing but a sigh before chugging the ice cold cup of coffee they had just gotten to and stuffing the already crumpled pack of cigarettes in their back pocket. Rowan turned around to find Holly waiting at the door with an impatient look on her face so they just grabbed their sneakers to put on in the car.

The bell on the door of Tony’s Diner rang, and Holly entered with a moping Rowan dragging their feet behind them.

“Sorry I’m late Dottie, Rowan wouldn’t wake up,” Holly spoke as she rounded the corner to find the older waitress looking for the pens that always seem to be lost.

“Oh, you’re alright Holly. Where is that troublemaker anyway? Last time I saw the kid they were skin and bones.” Dottie gives up her search, and opens a new pack.

“Yeah, still are. Got a little better since they moved in but I’ve been trying to get ‘em to eat more. I think they saw someone they knew sitting down and went to say hi.” Rowan lazily turns the corner as soon as Holly finishes.

“Hey, Dots! How’ve you been?” They lean against the counter with an easy grin.

“I’m alright, Ro. It’s nice to see you after a while. You been hanging in there after..all that?” At the mention of Rowan's overdose, their smile disappears and they look down, nodding their head and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I don’t do that stuff anymore.” Rowan talked casually, scratching behind theirear, before trying to move away from the uncomfortable conversation, looking over to the line cooks to see who was working.

“Ro, what the hell happened to your hair?” Hearing Holly’s words Rowan turned back around, eyebrows furrowed. One side was its normal, long length, but the right was much shorter.

“What? Oh yeah, someone lit my hair on fire last night so it’s a little uneven.” They combed through the short side with an airy laugh, going back to inspecting the kitchen.

“Christ, kid, didn’t you just say you stopped doing all of that?” Dottie's words may have been harsh but her tone was soft and full of worry.

“Well, yeah, I meant I stopped taking fuckin’ Xanax man! What, do you want me to just throw my partying days away? Let me have some fun.” Rowan walked away after quickly grabbing a notepad and a pen in hopes that the conversation would finally stop. Holly sighs while watching Rowan move over to the table they’d stopped at earlier, already ignoring their problems, sitting next to some dude with hair as long as theirs. (the right side, atleast)

“I’m glad Rowan has you Holly. I don’t think they’d be alive if they didn’t.” Dottie shoves a couple straws into her aapron, speaking remosefully.

“Yeah…I don’t think so either.” Holly can hear Rowan and the eclectic group they sat with laughing, hands banging against the table as the one they’d sat next to pulls at their shortened side of hair.

The diner was surprisingly empty for how late it was. There were always at least two big rushes. The first one was the people who didn’t really party all that much and didn’t like the music all that much either. They were calmer and tipped more. But they were ‘posers’ so Rowan wasn’t a fan. Then the second crowd would come in a few hours later, and a lot rowdier. Most of them were black-out drunk and probably high. They partied, and rocked, and fucked and most of them were huge fans of Rowan. The first was smaller than usual, and now they just had to wait.

Rowan stared up at the clock. 9:57. They let out a sigh, holding their face in their hands as they sat at the front counter.

“You okay over there?” Another waitress- Sophia, Sam, something that started with an s- asked.

“Uh, yeah. Could you just let someone know I’m gonna go have a smoke? Thanks.” Rowan practically ran through the back door out of the kitchen, a cigarette sitting on their lips by the time the cold wind pushed against their face. The small fire of their lighter brought warmth to their fingers and smoke to the air. Minutes later, the heavy metal door creaked open.

“Hey, Ro? Someone’s asking for you out here.” Holly spoke cautiously. It was obvious Rowan wasn’t used to being sober this late.

“Uhm, alright. Just..just give me a sec Hols.” They squatted down before speaking, bringing their arms up to the side of their face and trying to block out the sounds of the strip and the oncoming migraine. Their hands moved from gripping the back of their neck to rubbing their eyes. They sucked a breath in and held. One, two, three, four, five. They breathed out, crushing their cigarette butt on the floor, and stood with another sigh before moving back inside and to the table Holly had told them.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want?” Rowan leaned against the wooden border of the booth, staring at the man with his nose stuck in the menu.

“Nice to see you too.” The man looked up, the worlds smallest smile setting on his face at the sight of them.

“Oh, hey man. How’s it goin’ Mick?” After realizing who it was, Rowan sat in the other seat opposite of him, sinking into the sticky and crumbling booth.

“Y’know, the usual. Life's a bitch, everything hurts, and I’d like to die in a fucking hole.” He responded, voice the same sarcastic monotone it almost always was. “You?”

“Same-same. Life’s a bitch, still pretty fuckin’ insane, and I did die in a hole last week. Unfortunately, i’m back.” The pair shared a couple of kind smiles- unlikely for the both- and fond laughter, before Mick took a sip of his shitty coffee, no sugar, no cream, and Ro picked at the fake wooden panel peeling up from the table.

“Listen, there’s this new band I’ve been playing with for a few days and we could use a rhythm guitarist. You’d fit right in and I said I’d ask around, see if anyone would be down.”

“Don’t have anything goin’ on right now, sure,” They shrug. “This band gotta name or somethin'?” Rowan moved their arm to sit on the booth behind them as they slouched back. Mick let out a huff of air.

“Yeah, I wish. Don’t even have a fuckin’ singer yet.”

Yahoo! A new story :) I’ve been wanting to write a motley story for agesssss. On Wattpad as well just cause I prefer to write on there and paste it over here lolololls. Enjoyyyy

[gamersupreme]

Certified soil scientist post

[extrafruitybitch]

I wish I could slither underground and eat dirt like a worm.

[itsdetachable]

Ooooo the robins are fighting over territory looks like!

[flamingtrash3]

do you ever eat bugs on purpose

[interplanetary-gator-queens]

Yummy dirt yummy rocks!

-Dahlia

good meowning everykitty!! dogs.. go eat dirt or something