soft almond sugar cookie cutouts

tannertan36

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Cosimo Galluzzi

Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second
hello vonnie
noise dept.
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle
NASA

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Jules of Nature

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
Claire Keane
art blog(derogatory)
AnasAbdin

seen from United States

seen from Germany
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seen from Malaysia
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@chefwarly-blog
soft almond sugar cookie cutouts
Pomegranate lemonade
in this house we are love pebber
Sailing... well.. Wickerbottom had never even set foot on a boat before, let alone sailed one. That, and the wrecked bits of boat that washed up on the island's shore were far from comforting. But if she were to turn her nose up at a potential escape route, well, wouldn't that just make Maxwell giddy? Unless this was what he planned all along, which couldn't be put past him. From where she was paddling towards a glimpse of land, she could perfectly imagine his smirk. (grandmawickerbottom arrives
@grandmawickerbottom
The cope of mangrove trees made a nice sort of natural alcove. It was shady, cool, and usually rather safe- at least when Warly was able to keep Pepper from startling the nearby livestock. She was troublesome at times, but the sharkitten’s senses outmatched his in every aspect. He was too absorbed in gathering reeds and bamboo anyway, but when her head turned and her ears flicked back and forth he noticed. Her eyes were trained toward the open ocean.
Warly still didn’t hear anything once he emerged from the mangroves, and it took him a moment to spot what had gotten Pepper’s attention. There was a figure rowing nearer and nearer and while it seemed to almost certainly be a person, a numbing hand of fear had gripped him. He had come across some dangerous people in the past, and though the optimist in him wanted to greet them, he remained standing there. He wasn’t sure if they could see him even though he’d come out from the mangroves. Even if they didn’t, they were bound to hit shore sooner rather than later.
@chefwarly
Mimicking what she’d seen on her few journeys to the beach, Wickerbottom was moving the makeshift oar from one side of the raft to the other and making decent progress. Much more than when she had paddled only on one side and sent herself spinning in endless circles. Still, the water the clumsy paddling splashed up has soaked the hem of her skirt and even left beads on her glasses. Perhaps she was putting a bit too much effort into it. Still, the land was closer than ever, and the sleeve of her shirt made a decent cloth to wipe water from glass lenses. Still, the figure on land went unnoticed.
As mangrove trees were in reach, Wickerbottom couldn’t resist admiring their unique roots. Cautiously she ran a hand over the bark, comparing it to pictures she’d seen and allowing herself a moment to rest. As well as moment to acknowledge she certainly hadn’t been sailing long enough to encounter anything tropical, especially considering where she’d started from being quite temperate. Though since this “world” seemed engineered for maximum suffering, it was likely too much to expect proper tropical conditions. The weather would no doubt be as temperamental as ever.
Warly only moved to scoop Pepper up in his arms. After picking her up he remained still, watching the woman on her raft grow nearer. The window for escape had closed without his knowing, while he stood and got a better look at the other. She was an older woman with glasses and a long skirt, and though it was a raft she was rowing, it seemed well-made. Warly was no expert, however, that much he would admit to.
His nerves eased when he saw the woman extend a hand to touch the mangrove roots. Without realizing, the muscles in his shoulders relaxed; the gesture was reassuring somehow. Warly always had been one to respect his elders, and this woman seemed trustworthy. Still, he was unsure how to make an approach. So much time alone may have been good for reflection, but it certainly didn’t do one’s social skills any favors. After giving her a serious look, Warly set Pepper down and made sure she didn’t go darting off before slowly moving out onto shore. His voice faltered at first, but he managed to call out: “Hello? Madame?”
Homemade Garlic Knots
Blue and pink, makes you think
Sailing... well.. Wickerbottom had never even set foot on a boat before, let alone sailed one. That, and the wrecked bits of boat that washed up on the island's shore were far from comforting. But if she were to turn her nose up at a potential escape route, well, wouldn't that just make Maxwell giddy? Unless this was what he planned all along, which couldn't be put past him. From where she was paddling towards a glimpse of land, she could perfectly imagine his smirk. (grandmawickerbottom arrives
@grandmawickerbottom
The cope of mangrove trees made a nice sort of natural alcove. It was shady, cool, and usually rather safe- at least when Warly was able to keep Pepper from startling the nearby livestock. She was troublesome at times, but the sharkitten’s senses outmatched his in every aspect. He was too absorbed in gathering reeds and bamboo anyway, but when her head turned and her ears flicked back and forth he noticed. Her eyes were trained toward the open ocean.
Warly still didn’t hear anything once he emerged from the mangroves, and it took him a moment to spot what had gotten Pepper’s attention. There was a figure rowing nearer and nearer and while it seemed to almost certainly be a person, a numbing hand of fear had gripped him. He had come across some dangerous people in the past, and though the optimist in him wanted to greet them, he remained standing there. He wasn’t sure if they could see him even though he’d come out from the mangroves. Even if they didn’t, they were bound to hit shore sooner rather than later.
Never Fear, Grandma Is Here!
I’m gonna be saying that a lot, sorry.
New DS rp blog here, I noticed a severe lack of Wickerbottoms and I’m here to correct that.
I’ve got 4+ years of experience roleplaying, but never on tumblr and never in the Don’t Starve fandom. Please forgive me for not knowing How To Tumblr.
Check out my blog, meet the gramma, have fun!
How to Make Crepes
[ Blease, Give Us Warly in 9D.. we need the good boy wearing that terrible smile, ]
i dont feel like super proud of this one but it’s done and i think im getting better at drawing just overall also im super tired. flann i love u but he can’t be scary
CANNOLI PANCAKES
📷: brownstone_pancake_factory
reunion - closed rp
fueled-by-knowledge:
chefwarly:
Warly had first been introduced to the more tropical isles of the Constant, and had gotten his initial bearings there. To him the mainland felt safer in terms of its flora and fauna, but the cycle of its seasons was crueler by far.
Even so, autumn in the birchnut forests was always a beautiful sight. They were truly trees that Warly could appreciate, with bright plumage and bearing useful fruit. Birchnuts weren’t something he would ever eat on their own, but they made a wonderful snack in the form of makeshift trail mix, and a good garnish besides.
And he was happy. For once, he felt lighthearted as he puttered around the small camp he had constructed. He had eaten the dragonpie Wolfgang left the next morning; he knew how quickly they could spoil. It was delightful, like most of the pastries Wolfgang made. The filling was excellent, and the thought of Wolfgang carrying on baking in their separation brought a smile to his face.
When Wolfgang crashed in, he interrupted Warly’s silly singing and gave him a huge fright. Sudden noises and movements always did that to him, and a large man created a large noise. He whirled around, one hand on his chest and the other groping for something he could use as a weapon. All he came up with was a carved wooden spoon. Thankfully, he realized who it was and there was no need to be on the offensive.
“Wolfgang!” He rushed over to help him up, even if it wasn’t necessary. “Are you alright? Did you- I,” He broke off, not able to articulate all the things he wanted to say at once.
Wolfgang’s only response, at first, was to push himself up and spit out a rock–ptooey!–as well as a couple of tooth fragments. He’d never get those back now! He wasn’t even making a halfway decent impression; what kind of dingus barges into someone’s camp unannounced, falls on their face, and then nearly swallows a rock?
Then again, Wolfgang had never been that great at making subtle entrances. If anything, this was to be expected.
It took him a moment to sit fully upright and brush dirt and loose grass off his face, finally looking up at Warly with his cheeks burning red. “…Wolfgang can explain?”
Kneeling there next to him, Warly laughed. At first it sounded choked, but then he put his hand to his head and swept his hair back. He used his palm to wipe away tears that he didn’t realize were falling already.
“I go away for just a few months and you go right back to eating rocks.” Warly said, trying his best to be playfully admonishing. It was impossible, however, with his huge smile and teary eyes. It was incredibly obvious just how glad he was to see Wolfgang again.
If that hadn’t made it clear enough, Warly did something he rarely ever did: acted on impulse. He threw his arms around Wolfgang and laughed again, nearly lightheaded with just how good of a surprise this was. The only thing that snapped him out of it was the familiar feeling of claws sinking into the back of his vest as Pepper climbed up his vest and over his shoulder to get at Wolfgang.
2A with chef boye?? perhaps? that seems adequate-
send me a letter, number, and character and i’ll draw them!
not sure what he’s lookin at but it’s Something
Confound those survivors! Oh how I hate them!
I HATE WILSON!
I HATE WILLOW!
I HATE WOLFGANG!
I HATE WENDY!
I HATE WX-78!
I HATE WICKERBOTTOM!
I HATE WOODIE!
I HATE WES!
I HATE WIGFRID!
AND I HATE WEBBER!
THEY DRIVE ME TO DRINK!!!