noise dept.
★
ojovivo
Sweet Seals For You, Always
taylor price
Noah Kahan
No title available
@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
𓃗
No title available
blake kathryn
cherry valley forever
occasionally subtle
Not today Justin
Interview Vampire Daily
RMH
bliss lane
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
seen from Peru
seen from Ecuador
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
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@miguelasauras
I was having writers block and so I took a break and soon enough it was 3 in the morning and I had impulsively sewn together a tiny mouse you’re welcome
For those of you who asked, I have made a sewing tutorial on how to make your very own Peaches the Mouse!
Just because one of your chicken eggs hatched a fire breathing dragon people think you’re evil. But you’re still just a regular farmer trying to make a living while dealing with an overprotective dragon, heroes that want to kill you and fanatics who want to worship you as the new Demon Lord.
The thing you need to know about all of this, the thing that got me into all this trouble in the first place, is that chickens will sit on anything when they get broody enough. Anything. Duck eggs, goose eggs, turkey eggs, lizard eggs, egg shaped rocks, anything. Chickens aren’t smart. If it looks vaguely like an egg, they’ll plant their feathery arses on it and wait.
I noticed that there was a bigger egg under one of the broody chickens, when I checked. Of course I noticed, it was twice the size of the others. But I have geese. I figured it was a goose egg she’d found and stolen. It was about the right size, and I didn’t take it out to check the colour because that particular chicken gets very protective of her eggs. I’ve already got a scar on one hand from trying to get eggs away from her. I didn’t want a matched set.
That was a decision I regretted the moment I went out to feed the chickens and found a little blue-and-silver dragonet’s head poking out from under a very confused-looking chicken. The poor thing kept shifting around and looking under herself in a bewildered way, like she didn’t know what to do next. This particular chicken is a good mother, and she’s raised clutches of ducks and geese without any trouble – she’s even resigned to some of her children swimming – but this was too much. She didn’t object when I carefully reached in and fished out the little dragon.
It was so tiny, then. It fitted in my hand, with its little head peeking out one side and its tail looping around my wrist. Cute, too, with its big eyes and little snout turned up towards me.
That was when I made my second mistake. I decided to feed it before releasing it. Dragons are innately wild creatures, everyone knows that. They can’t be tamed. People have tried. The eggs are abandoned as soon as they are laid, and the dragonets hatch able to hunt, so they don’t even bond with their mothers. So just feeding it a little shouldn’t have been a big deal. It should have gobbled the meat and fled as soon as I loosened my grip on it and it saw the open sky.
It didn’t. As soon as I’d fed it, it fluttered up to a sunny window ledge and went to sleep. I went about my work, figuring that it’d leave in its own time.
By noon, it was sitting on my boot, squeaking pathetically. I wondered if maybe it was confused by the farmyard – they usually hatch in mountains, if the stories are right – so I took it back to the farmhouse with me and fed it again when I ate, then took some time away from the fences I should have been mending to walk it up to the hills. I found it some nice rocks, with plenty of lizards and beetles and suitable prey for something that size. It pounced on a beetle almost as soon as I put it down, and when I left it was crunching happily.
I hadn’t walked a quarter of the way back before something hit the back of my boot. The little dragon was holding on with all four claws, and when I looked down it squeaked pathetically. If possible, its eyes got even rounder.
Listen, you don’t make it as a farmer if you just let orphaned baby animals die. We hand-raise calves and lambs and ponies, set chickens to sit on abandoned eggs, or put them under the kitchen stove or by a fireplace. You don’t make a success of farming if you don’t value every animal. A good shepherd will spend all night looking for one lost sheep. So despite what was said later, it wasn’t just sentiment that made me sigh and pick up the little thing and carry it back to the farm. I am a good farmer. I don’t let orphaned babies die just because they’re a little work.
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Aydin Eyikan
WILL POULTER in Ibiza (May 24, 2022)
“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it
The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.
According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.
Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.
Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.
Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.
They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.
The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.
She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.
Born 2018.
Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?
Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.
Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.
Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.
“Eyup,” Martha agreed.
“Don’t look government.”
“Nope.”
“We burying him?”
“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”
“You sure? Looks heavy.”
“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”
Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.
Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.
Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.
Afficher davantage
I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. Never trust a salamander.
I love the DAL brand items they give you sometimes 🩲💛
DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY ART
Necrohamcer.
Hamster Monk and hamster Death Knight.
Weird peeve time. Calling lab grown gemstones “fake” is stupid because it’s the same shit just not formed naturally. An artificially grown diamond is the same shit as a natural diamond it is the exact same material bro it’s all fuckign carbon
It’s carbon it’s pretty and it didn’t involve slave labor what’s not to love??? Hi I’m having geology opinions tonight apparently. And I’m right
There is so much bullshit in the diamonds industry to be mad about tbh. It also ties into the bullshit of the wedding industry as a whole but we don’t have the time to unpack all that
not even going to lie, the day i learned i could get like 15 lab grown rubies the size of dimes for $20 is the day i spent $20 on rubies, and i have never once said to myself “man, i wish this cost $1,600 and the lives of eight children to produce”
We are a pro-lab-grown mineral blog here, not only is it massively cheaper but massively more ethical as well in many cases.
another very cool lab grown gem is Moissanite. It has a 9.25 on the mohs hardness scale where diamond is a 10. Moissanote also has a 2.69 refractive index in comparison to diamond’s 2.419 and here is the difference
and the best thing about moissanite? It is all lab grown and it costs only a fraction of what diamond costs. So fuck the diamond indsutry and buy lab grown gems which cost significantly less
Also it’s just cool to think of some mad scientist lookin person doing shit against the law of the universe and making pretty gems for you. Like cmon. This shouldnt be allowed probably. But humans really be like on gOD i want some shiny an just started MAKIN em
for years people wanted alchemy, well now we have alchemy and we’re making gemstones out of it and suddenly “it doesn’t count” anymore
anybody got any good websites to buy lab created gemstone rings at?
Started a new oly lifting program
Got my macros redone to cut
Here’s to day 1 of trying to drop 10lbs by Jan 20.
Find it so strange how in a show with so many great characters, somehow Silco is the one that I’m still thinking about (besides Jinx, of course).
Like, this guy had a full-blown arc that was completely overshadowed but literally everybody else’s in the show, and is also the most important for the ending.
He’s a manipulative, murdering, drug lord who doesn’t even seem to care if children are used in his experimentations with Shimmer. He willingly threatens people’s lives and even the lives of people’s child.
He let a cat get eaten
He’s the direct cause for a widespread shimmer drug epidemic in his own city, an doesn’t show a single care about that.
So clearly he doesn’t care about the chaos ensuing around him so long as he stays in power and successfully gets his way with the upper city. He does whatever he needs to to get what he needs.
He also doesn’t care about the chaos Jinx brings to the table unless it directly affects something he’s working on. He knows she’s cracked and brittle, and that she’s incredibly traumatized.
I think he sees himself in her– betrayed and abandoned and traumatized by it. They both fear betrayal again– especially Jinx in her unstable emotional state.
He lets her do what she feels she needs to do. he doesn’t even grow angry when she stabs him repeatedly with his eye poke…thingy.
He doesn’t even grow angry when she shoots him…kills him.
He assures her that he would never betray her– something she doesn’t trust anyone about. And you can tell in the way he says it in this intimate moment that he means it.
He has nothing to gain by saying this. He’s dead either way.
And even more, knowing he’s telling the truth, he was willing to lose EVERYTHING he ever hoped to achieve with independence and an end from the uppercity’s tyranny for this one girl he cares for like a daughter.
EXACTLY the motivation Vander had for the same things.
He doesn'y gain anything by saying this, either.
He says these things because he knows because of his own and Jinx’s betrayals and abandonments that this is what she needs to hear in order to find herself.
The last time, she killed her family and was abandoned by her sister (not entirely, but you get it). She was taunted for being imperfect while she was younger, and told that she could be fixed by Vi currently.
He tells her that he wouldn’t betray and abandon her in his last breaths after she fatally shot him, and then tells her she’s exactly how she’s meant to be– perfect. Something no one has ever told her. They’ve always wanted to change her in some way, and he accepts her wholeheartedly and loyally despite everything he had hoped to achieve with the uppercity and being shot by her.
This is what gets Jinx to accept herself as Jinx.
And he’s the only voice she hears when she chooses her path.
He wasn’t redeemed at all since him and Jinx aren’t some good vs. bad situation. Not even his character is redeemed.
What he is is exactly who Jinx needed her whole life while being exactly what the undercity was practically destroyed by. And honestly, he’s pribably the only type of person who could wholeheartedly accept Jinx in the environment they’re in.
He’s the very epitome of a villain who has a big soft spot which just so happens to be more important than anything else to him. And he gets killed by her, and doesn’t blame her for it.
And I just find his arc so brilliantly done in the grand scheme of things.
Color-Fall #26
this is a poem
i couldn’t not draw this
the rat poem is too powerful that’s why they don’t talk about it
Lean into the funny idiot archetype so that when you’re unexpectedly hypercompetent at something they give you The Look where you can see them reexamine their entire perception of you in confusion, respect and no small amount of fear, and when you keep playing funny idiot they will be forever wary of you. Let them find out, incidentally, that the jester keeps a knife under his hat, and never figure out how to deal with that because they won’t abandon their boxes.
core classes as undead :)
