in this wheat field of a town

forest green or ocean blue? chilly sunrises or warm sunsets? empty country roads or small town main streets? wheat fields or groves of apple trees? lemonade or iced tea? late night stargazing or early morning walks? camping with friends or staying in alone? sunny days or rainy afternoons?


* Diane, 11:30 am, February 24. Entering the town of Twin Peaks, five miles South of the Canadian border, twelve miles West of the state line. I’ve never seen so many trees in my life. As W. C. Fields would say I’d rather be here then in Philadelphia. Fifty-four degrees on a slightly overcast day. Weatherman said rain. If you get paid that kind of money for being wrong sixty percent of the time it beat working. My mileage is 79,345. Gauge is on reserve. Riding on fumes here. I’ve got to tank up when I get into town. Remind me to tell you how much that is. Lunch was … uhh … six dollars and thirty-one cents at the … Lamplighter Inn, that’s on highway two near Lewis Fork. That was a tuna fish sandwich on whole wheat, slice of cherry pie and a cup of coffee. Damn good food. Diane, if you ever get up this way that cherry pie is worth a stop. Okay. Looks like I’ll be meeting up with a ahh … Sheriff Harry S. Truman. Shouldn’t be to hard to remember that. That will be at the Calhoun Memorial Hospital. I guess we’re going to go up to intensive care and take a look at that girl that crawled down the railroad tracks off the mountain. I’m pretty sure I’ll be checking into a hotel. I’m sure the sheriff will be able to recommend a clean place, reasonably priced. That’s what I need, clean place, reasonably priced.
Oh Diane, I almost forgot. I got to find out what kind of trees these are. Their really something.
#happytwinpeaksday #twinpeaks #goodmorning #davidlynch #buenosdias

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anonymous asked:

hmm i'm not good with prompts but: one of the boys is having a horrible day for very trivial reasons (accidentally nicked himself shaving, slammed the door on his hand, phone died inconveniently etc) and then other tries help. cue: (DRUMROLL) SEX but with the one still halfheartedly grumpy

(read on AO3)

He wakes up slow, to an empty bed. He lays there for a few minutes, face half-buried in the pillow and making sure his breath comes steady, even. In half an hour he won’t even be able to really remember what he’d been dreaming about. No sense in dwelling on it.

He slept like shit, though—they got home late, after dealing with that annoying bitch of a naiad who’d been drowning guys on Lake Superior, and he hadn’t wanted to stay anywhere near water, just wanted to get back to their bed. His ribs are all bruised to shit, and his right wrist—he rotates it slowly, shuffling down the hall, and okay, maybe Sam’s right, maybe he did sprain it.

The kitchen’s empty, when he wanders in. No coffee in the pot, and no grounds left in the jar when he checks. Groceries kept slipping down the priority list, with the last few hunts they’ve been on. He looks into the nearly-empty fridge, holding his wrist up against his chest, vague unease still lapping slowly at the back of his mind. Maybe he can force Sam to make the run into town. Surely he must’ve earned a day off, by now.

When he heads into the library to try to wheedle Sam, though, it’s empty, too. He checks his watch—it’s already ten, so Sam ought to be back from a run if he took one, the freak, and—oh. A note, propped on Sam’s laptop. Got a tip on a grimoire in Topeka, it says, in Sam’s goofy handwriting. Home late. Dean drops the note on the table and sighs, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. Okay, so no lounging around with Sammy. He can get some stuff done, instead.

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“lmao soviet propaganda was so ridiculous and still natural part of their entertainment. it’s wild”

Red Dawn (1984), action film starring Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen

The United States has gradually become strategically isolated after several European nations (except the United Kingdom) withdraw from NATO. At the same time, the Soviet Union and its Warsaw Pact partners aggressively expand their sphere of influence. In addition, the Ukrainian wheat harvest fails while a Communist coup d'etat occurs in Mexico.

On a September morning, in the small town of Calumet, Colorado, a local high school teacher pauses when he sees Soviet paratroopers landing in a nearby field. The paratroopers open fire when the teacher confronts them. Pandemonium follows as students flee amid heavy gunfire. In downtown Calumet, Cuban and Soviet troops are trying to impose order after a hasty occupation. Cuban Colonel Bella (Ron O'Neal) instructs the KGB to go to a local sporting goods store and obtain the records of the store’s gun sales on the ATF’s Form 4473, which lists citizens who have purchased firearms.

more very specific playlists

a continuation of this post (x)

kissing a girl for the first time. when summer was a little simpler. cornflower skies and mint green grass. riding bikes down empty asphalt. tracing clouds with lazy hands. glass bottles of coke and melted ice cream cones. skinned knees and lipgloss prints on cheeks. a rush of euphoric innocence.

a road trip through ghost country. sepia-toned haze. polaroids with faces clouded out. hours spent watching the world pass outside the window. endless fields of wheat drained of color. forgetting each town, each road sign as it disappears behind you. something lost. something found.

a beautiful space adventure. swimming through galaxies with cosmic mermaids. dancing on asteroid belts. adventures to strange and exciting planets with brilliantly colored skies. meeting friendly aliens and teaching each other games and songs. sleeping not just under the stars, but over, around, inside.

the night after graduation. piling into the back of the pick-up truck under faded blankets. sitting by the lake in reverent silence. weaving stories with freshly found nostalgia. reaching for each other’s hands while counting constellations. a big, terrifying, wonderful world ahead.


In 2007, the small town of Urueña, Spain decided to become a Villa del Libro, or a town of books. This is what it looks like.

Imagine a small medieval town behind a high wall. A castle stands on one end, and all around are vineyards and fields of wheat. Imagine that within the walls the entire town is devoted to reading and writing. Imagine that the entire town is, in essence, one magical bookstore.

One of many European wonders, this fairytale for bibliophiles exists in Spain. The place is called Urueña, and it is only a two hour drive northwest from Madrid. The town sits within a medieval wall, surrounded by vast plains, in the region of Castilla y León. In recent years, it has transformed itself into a Villa del Libro, a village that celebrates books.

Fewer than 200 people live in Urueña, according to the 2014 census. But these few villagers run 12 different bookstores, meaning that there’s one bookstore for every sixteen or so people. Some are general interest shops; others specialize in old and rare books. One focuses on the region of Castilla y León, another on children’s books. A shop called El 7 Bookshop specializes in books about bullfighting. Another concentrates its collection on books about wine, and this one is called The Cellar.

In addition to the bookstores, Urueña is home to an institute of ancient calligraphy that offers classes in the old writing techniques found in medieval handwritten tomes. Similarly, the Artisan Book Binding Workshop of Urueña holds seminars on how to physically create and unite the spines, covers, and pages that make up books

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This Small Village In Spain Is Home To More Books Than People

By John on January 12, 2016

In 2007, the small town of Urueña, Spain decided to become a Villa del Libro, or a town of books. This is what it looks like.

One of the old medieval gates leading out of Urueña, Spain’s Villa del Libro. Image Source: Flickr

Imagine a small medieval town behind a high wall. A castle stands on one end, and all around are vineyards and fields of wheat. Imagine that within the walls the entire town is devoted to reading and writing. Imagine that the entire town is, in essence, one magical bookstore.

One of many European wonders, this fairytale for bibliophiles exists in Spain. The place is called Urueña, and it is only a two hour drive northwest from Madrid. The town sits within a medieval wall, surrounded by vast plains, in the region of Castilla y León. In recent years, it has transformed itself into a Villa del Libro, a village that celebrates books.

Fewer than 200 people live in Urueña, according to the 2014 census. But these few villagers run 12 different bookstores, meaning that there’s one bookstore for every sixteen or so people. Some are general interest shops; others specialize in old and rare books. One focuses on the region of Castilla y León, another on children’s books. A shop called El 7 Bookshop specializes in books about bullfighting. Another concentrates its collection on books about wine, and this one is called The Cellar.

In addition to the bookstores, Urueña is home to an institute of ancient calligraphy that offers classes in the old writing techniques found in medieval handwritten tomes. Similarly, the Artisan Book Binding Workshop of Urueña holds seminars on how to physically create and unite the spines, covers, and pages that make up books.

One of the twelve bookstores in the small town of Urueña, Spain. Image Source: Flickr

Urueña also boasts five well-run museums. Naturally, there’s the Museum of the Book and Writing and the Story Museum. But there is also the Ethnographic Museum, run by a local scholar of regional folklore, Joaquín Díaz, that’s set in a 18th century mansion. The nearby Museum of Music houses ancient and valuable instruments from across Europe and around the world. Finally, the e-LEA Centre hosts exhibits and lectures on literature and writing. While already a center of learning and history, Urueña made a conscious decision to become a Villa del Libro in 2007. It joined the International Organization of Book Towns and modeled its re-branding after cities like Hay-on-Wye in Wales or Brevedoort in the Netherlands where tens of thousands of tourists come every year for literary festivals or simply to look through the second-hand shops. So far Urueña is the only internationally recognized “book town” in Spain. At present, Urueña attracts 40,000 bibliophiles to its narrow medieval streets every year. They cross the vast plains of Castilla to search through old tomes; listen to lectures on writing and take classes in calligraphy, and of course to talk to one another about the pleasures found in books.

The Price of Bread in Dungeons and Dragons, Part 1

There’s a multitude of issues with the way the economy in D&D works; namely, it doesn’t. This is a worldbuilding exercise by me to try and make some sense out of seemingly random numbers. I’m probably going to fail. This week, we’re looking at bread, milk, cheese, beef, pork, and chicken. The necessities in life.

For ease of understanding, the seasons are renamed in my campaign. The calendar is 360 days and begins in the spring month, Pollengrass, which is then followed by Sunpeak, Harvestfall, and finally Deadwood. I use the terms fairly interchangeably with their actual counterparts here.

So, what is the price of bread? Well, first we have to discover how much it costs to plant wheat.


Planting 100 pounds of grain seed (wheat, rye, barley) will yield 1500 pounds of grain on average. One acre of land can handle this amount normally. Planting takes up most of Pollengrass (spring) and ends in Harvestfall (fall).
Not many people just want wheat itself, so the wheat has to, in most cases, be milled first.
100 pounds of grain will result in 70 pounds of flour. An average-skilled miller takes 10%, and about 20% is lost in the milling process.
Bread, of course, requires flour AND water to make. For most, the cost of water is negligible, but we’ll say 1 gallon of fresh water costs 2 copper pieces and can be used to make 4 loaves of bread. A loaf is a pound, and has about 4 servings in it.
That pound loaf costs an average of 8 copper. This means making a loaf of bread actually requires 1.1 pounds of grain to be recovered from the miller, who then takes his 10%, and including what is lost in milling, it requires 1.3 pounds.
The average person needs about a pound of food per day. Half, one quarter, or even one eighth of this could be bread.
Let’s say this super-average farmer plants 10 acres of grain, getting back 15,000 pounds at harvest. The government taxes 1500 pounds.
The farmer is left with 13,500 pounds of raw wheat, which he takes to the super-average miller. Due to average loss and the miller’s cut of 30% total, the farmer comes away with 9450 pounds of flour.

I’m saying all this to say that a pound of wheat bread costs 8 copper. A pound of white bread costs 15 copper.

The farmer comes away with 60 pounds of flour for every 100 pounds of wheat he planted. Average price of regular brown flour is 5cp per pound, while the more expensive white flour is about 10cp per pound. This means the farmer that plants 50 acres (5000 pounds) of brown wheat seed gets 75,000 pounds of wheat at harvest, and 45,000 pounds of flour after tax and milling. At average market price, that returns 225,000cp, or 22,500sp, or 2250gp, or 225pp.

A 1-acre plot of brown wheat yields 1500 pounds, and yields 900 pounds of brown flour after milling and tax. At average market price, this returns 4500cp, or 450sp, or 45gp.
If this is a field of white wheat, it yields 9000cp, or 900sp, or 90gp.

Forgetting everything else, one human will need 365 pounds of bread per year to stay fed. This is not at all a nutritious meal. Assuming the farmer has a spouse and 8 farm hands, these 10 people need 3650 pounds, roughly, of bread per year.

I think this is all I can say about bread, but you can read about milk, beef, chicken, and pigs under the cut.

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Went on a cycle last Saturday and took these photo’s of some wheat fields near my town. 

One thing I love about the place where I live is that only a 10-15 minute bicycle ride already brings you to the middle of nowhere. You’re standing right between the farmers fields. And in the distance you can see the church towers of different towns around you. 

Things that Remind me of the Signs

Aries: The President, big thighs, hot summer days, noon, parades, the military, loud laughter, Spanish, dark wavy brown hair, post workout high, revolutionists, getting wasted with your friends after a breakup, Halloween

Taurus: The smell of fresh cut grass, a dairy farm, an old leather bound journal, traditional American cooking, freckles, country accents, white lacy skirts and shirts, streets covered in gold and orange leaves during the fall, crickets chirping at night

Gemini: Technology, big open skies with a few clouds scattered across it, a cool summer breeze, natural bright blonde hair, internet celebs/youtubers, cheesy 80s movies, neon colors

Cancer: Rainy weather, leather pants, vanilla flavored teas, home baked cookies, short stature, a sarcastic comment, French food, musicals, traveling around Europe during the summers, the suffering artist

Leo: Black and gold furniture, high heels, flashy jewelry, celebrities, a night out on the town with your best friends, belly button piercings, strong smoky makeup, the pink sky during a sunrise, a large circle of friends

Virgo: High end fashion, a perfectly decorated home, maxi dresses, spring thunderstorms, pouty lips, pastel colors, pixie cuts, expensive wines, long manicured nails, running through a big wheat field 

Libra:  Philanthropist celebrities, carefree laughter, british rock, monthly donations to pet charities, pizza parties, going to the supermarket in pajamas, perfect winter snow, New years resolutions, kissing in the rain

Scorpio:  Jaguars and leopards, foggy mornings, stormy skies on the shore, bright red lipstick, modern architecture, brown eyes, a jungle resort, perfect winged eyeliner, single mother with a successful career, smoking

Sagittarius:  Laughing until you cry, toned muscles and abs, a bright smile, winning a race, getting a high score in a video game, tanned skin, New Mexico landscape, start of the school year

Capricorn:  A large cruise ship, getting a promotion, perfectly straight hair, long skirts and sandals, gardening on a warm spring day, having an office job, graduating with honors, birds chirping in the morning

Aquarius: Nighttime thunderstorms/snow, petrichor, clean scrubs, natural color dyed hair, working in medicine, transatlantic flights, a witty response, cool colors, resting bitch face but a magnetic personality, dogs and wolves, Purity Ring

Pisces: Tropical vacations, christmas decorations, southern cooking, a newly adopted puppy, warm hugs and sweet kisses, having dinner with the family in the dining room, big blue eyes, bright and pastel color dyed hair, having lots of kids

The Wrestle Ch. I

Hold it right there, I don’t wanna move
and summer it begs us to prove
that we can last just one more season.

The sun was not even up yet, but already the sky was not as dark as complete night. Slowly the stars were erased from the sky, no longer offering worlds and dreams and the expanse of the universe on display, but instead only the brightest, most stubborn remained as small reminders. The sky grew grey, grew hazy, and already, before the rush and thrust of the sun above the boarder of the horizon, before the breaking of a new day, Clarke knew that it was set to be a brutal, scorching kind of morning. The grass and leaves were already sweating, and a low, thick fog slunk along, sipping at the dew and licking at the edges of any puddles collected the night before. Adjusting to seasons was new, but her first full summer on Earth was much smoother than the winter had been, much more hopeful.

The world was quiet, mostly. Birds shook and blinked and started to scuttle about, in search of the allegorical worms. The occasional shuffling and movement could be heard in the waking huts and houses as fires were blown upon, spurred to life, children grumbled, women went about starting their days in the domestic spaces. Clarke appreciated this time of day the most. The early moments before she had to do anything at all, before questions and problems and worrying about such things as life and death. When things were still, and there was only the routine of waking that every partook of in the same way. The quiet was important to her.

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When the Angel came to end the world

the robots did not look up for a long time. They toiled in the fields or spun in the cities or hummed along empty roads. They held the earth like a newborn calf in their hands, fragile and stumbling, and their steady, metal fingers were ready to clamp it up and carry it to the mother for milk, or break its neck if it proved too weak. When the Angel came to end the world, the robots didn’t notice; it had ended in fire twice over already.

The Angel came to a field of wheat. It was several thousand acres, far and away over the horizon; wheat and wheat filled the eye, and nothing touched the stalks but the wind. Somewhere in the center of the field was a single robot, its tarnished body bent over, checking the furrows for weeds and pulling them up if it found any. It put the weeds into a hole in its stomach, where there was a small glow, a rush of fire, and the invasive plant was incinerated.

The Angel came before the robot and spoke:

“Do not be afraid.”

Hearing a voice when it thought it was alone, the robot lifted its head, gears whirring quietly behind its visual processors. It looked up at the celestial being floating above the ground, robed in white, wings beating the air, yet creating no wind, as the stalks of wheat remained still. The robot studied the wheat, then turned again to the Angel.

“Are you a human?” Its voice was thin with disuse, and it coughed and spluttered, and tried again. “Are you a master?”

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title: t-shirt weather
series: voltron: legendary defender
pairing: keith/lance

“End of summer,” Lance said confidently. He had resumed a position of relaxation, head back and eyes closed as the wind combed through his hair gently. When he smiled into the sun, Keith looked away. “By the end of this summer, I will have had the whirlwind romance they make movies about.”

“Did we mention Lance also has terrible taste in films?” Pidge murmured to Keith.
Lance opened his eyes to point an accusing finger at Pidge. “You take that back!”
Keith watched them bicker back and forth about movies and questions of taste and a lot of it didn’t make sense to him, not because it was pop culture he was inept in but every word was packed with significance, like sofas and wheat fields and Lance McClain is back at it again. Friends forever. Keith was running out of places to look so he focused on the waterdrops that still clung to Lance’s eyelashes. The sun was high in the sky and Keith wondered if Lance was seeing rainbows in a town where it never rained. 

Summer, sun and secrets. Keith hadn’t asked for his life to take the turns it did but it led him to a small beach town and a boy with a sharp smile, sharper eyes and an unrivaled love for the sea. 

rating: T+

chapter word count: 5.2k+

read chapter one on ao3!

Dimensional Madness

What you need to know:

A cult to an evil/mad god has preformed a series of violent rituals to invoke her/his presence,but instead gained the attention of something else. A creature of pure madness, something from a chaotic realm, that rules over a small pocket dimension.


The dimension is spilling over the countryside, warping wildlife and structures into new maddening versions.
Trees have eyes instead of leaves, deer have snake antlers and worm-like fur, fields of wheat and corn are now wiggling fleshy tentacles. Madness is also taking over people as they descend into insanity, becoming violent murderous cannibals. Towns burn as entire patrols of the mad push the region into anarchy and the players must find the source before it sweeps the nation.

1 - at the epicenter of madness within a glen of red grass and trees stands a lone red and black checkered log cabin - it should feel serene and only slightly off compared to its surroundings, the last step of sanity

  • A - the windows are red stained glass and if anyone peers inside, they will see room 2
  • B - the door is made of alternating red and black logs and is unlocked.

2 - inside the cabin is only one room of wood floor and walls. A fireplace is ablaze with burning logs and a figure covered in white linen sits in a rocking chair with one arm dangling out, pointing at a bearskin rug on the floor.

  • A - if player remove the linen, the figure should be a well known NPC, their face locked in an oversized smile and a dead stare, focusing on only one player. It’s not really the NPC and can’t do anything but point and smile, but can be killed, moved, etc, should the players desire.

  • B - under the bear skin rug is a normal wooden door built into the floor that opens to room 3

3 - a wooden hall descends like a pit X meters to another wooden door. Rows of red stained glass windows line the hall and a few torches burning bright red beside them light the way.

  • A - although the hall drops like a pit, when the players go inside, gravity shifts locking the players onto the floor of room 3, making room 2 look like a pit.

  • B - the windows can be gazed through. On the other side can be any number of things, like a mirror image of the hall, including the players copying even there movements, a sea of blood with floating eyes, a multitude of demonic creatures staring back, etc
  • If the players break the widows, they shatter, revealing only a wall on the other side.

  • C - when the players near the door, words scratch into the wood: “Warning, you are about to leave all sense behind.

4 - half of a wood cabin room that break apart into a vast void of red stormy lighting clouds in all directions. A few clumps of rocks float above the infinite pit, creating a walkway into the storm. Voices moan, graon and yell within the clouds.

  • A - the voices will repeat anything the players have said in the past, preferable things they said in private, exposing their secrets or mimicking their fears. This is where you try to get under the players’ skin, make it personal to each player, bring up past wrong doings, etc.

  • B - the players must jump to each clump of floating rocks, but each group becomes further and further apart, making it harder and harder to reach, forcing higher and higher rolls to continue.
  • If a player falls, they descend into the clouds, which can be any number of meters below them, from there you can choose one of the options below:
    They fall through the clouds and come out above the cabin, crashing onto the roof.
    They can fall through the clouds on the bottom and come out on top, crashing onto the stone piles.
    They can fall forever and are considered dead.
    They can fall in a loop till a player pulls them out of free-fall.

  • C - as players move through this area, roll randomly for a lighting strike. If players are hit, they will take X D6 lightning damage and suffer the effects of confusion, insanity, fear, etc., any type of mind altering effect or spells works.

5 - as players ascend into the clouds, they come across a stair way of solid fog that brings them above the clouds to a desert of red and black sand stretching endlessly. On a hill in the distance is a marble pool and 4 marble columns. In the sky, fat and bloated, are all the creature and people the players ever killed.

  • A - as the players traverse the desert, wind picks up and blows into things they have done in the past. Again, like in part 4, but instead of voices, it’s now the visual version. Did they murder, did they pocket that gem they said they didn’t, everything becomes exposed here.
  • A little while later, the wind blows again and this time it becomes their worst nightmares, karma as if it were to punish the player for past misdeeds.
  • Players must roll for fear/insanity or some mind altering spell or effect of your choosing.
  • Once a player fails, they also see the other players as their fear and must fight to save themselves. At this point, encourage some in-party fighting. After all, this is a place of madness.

  • B - the pool in the hill is filled with blood and contains a wooden door at the bottom with another smaller wooden door in the center of the first one.
  • Going into the blood has no effect other than it’s blood.
  • Opening the larger door brings players back to part 2 in the cabin as if they were just entering,
  • Opening the smaller door brings the players to part 6.

6 - a small room of  soggy fleshy material. Within the walls, there are a number of small skin flaps that act as doors. On the ground, inked into the skin, are the words “chamber of dreams and nightmares”.

  • A - when a players puts their hand on a skin flap to open it, a voice rumbles from within: “What is your wish?”
  • If the player makes no wish, then when they open the flap, it is empty and will no longer work for the reminder of the time the players spend here.
  • If they do make a wish, one of two things can happen: either it can be their dream or their nightmare

  • If a dream, give the players to a degree anything they asked for ,magic items / gold / stat increase / experience.
    If they ask for a plus 5 sword and are level one, give them plus 1. If they ask for a million gold, give them what is appropriate for their level.

  • If a curse, take away what they asked for, but also keep it appropriate to their level.
    If they want strength but are level 1, take away 1 point for a week. If 20th level, take several points permanently. If gold, take maybe 50 if they are first, but 1000s if they are 20th, etc.

  • The dream/nightmare ratios should be about 75/25 in the players favor, after all you, want the players to explore.
  • The very last skin flaps they look into leads to part 7

7 - after crawling through a wet fleshy tunnel, is opens to a large human mouth. Past the rows of teeth, the tongue quivers soft and moist. The uvula pulsates and the throat is reddened, agitated flesh leading to blackness.

  • A - once the players step inside the mouth, the uvula bursts open and the creature of madness comes out. This creature can be anything re-skinned to look like anything. Maybe it has ogre stats, but appears as a mound of hands, or a dragons who appears as their grandma’s sweater, anything. It doesn’t have to make sense, this place is madness.
  • The creature has one extra ability, maddening laughter: the creature laughs continuously and is infectious. Every round the players must roll not to start into laughing fits.
  • If a player fails, they are considered stunned till they roll out of the effect. Also while under the effect, after the first round, they starts to spasm, taking X D6 damage per round till they roll out of it.

  • B - the throat leads to the chimney or part 2, landing in the fireplace which can or cannot still be lit.


When the creature dies, the dimension starts to fade, or does it? Are the players cursed with permanent madness, seeing illusion and hallucination? Do voices whisper to them in the night? Do figments try to barter for their souls? Do the players now permanently see another world around them, always trying to break through? Does the land recover or does it only create more cults and followers of madness to arrive? Do the players come back to a place that snapped, cities ablaze and hordes of savages running across the country side, killing and eating everything they find?

This can be as complex or simple as you like, after all, it’s about having fun.

So till the next time, enjoy and hope to see you again.

ok so everyone loves blue sky for the wheatley redemption stuff but also imagine during the four years he spent in space:
- chell’s first sight of the buildings of eaden after trekking for days through the wheat fields with no idea if other humans even still existed
- chell eating real food from a garden instead of whatever nutrient mush they feed the test subjects at aperture
- chell sleeping for a normal amount of time in a real bed and listening to the crickets outside
- chell helping out with projects around town and being genuinely thanked and appreciated
- one of chell’s friends poking fun at her habits in a way meant as a friendly joke and not to crush her self-esteem
- chell working outside and feeling the sun and wind on her face

magnificentcollectiverebel  asked:

⚡️⚡️ thank you

they imagine a golden countryside where even the rain is charming
and an august afternoon spends an entire year winding down
they imagine perfect warm summer simplicity
(as though i have never straggled across a blinding white horizon, as though i have never tripped into the recesses of a muddy fall, as though i have never hated an honest man)
all things yellow and joyful and nothing frivolous about the work done there
everyone paints a blonde field of perfect straight lines
edged with wildflowers
gilded with sunlight
a shaft of wheat made immortal by a brushstroke
but i remember-
every day in the spring-
when i despised that town and everyone in it-
the field was green and new and we would stop to watch the wind dance, and dance, and sing

Testing Maintenance: Chapter 1

Things in Aperture had turned absolutely sideways. There was so much to do. More than ever, the robots that inhabited the facility were busy, and after such a long, undisturbed rest. GLaDOS’ defeat at the hands of the tenacious human all those years ago had been both liberation and discord, leaving the testing chambers and all other obstacles, stair ways, and factories in a state of decay. Some things stopped working completely, others went about their days trying to fulfill the purpose they were made for as best they could. In some cases, a robot might find themselves active but immobile, and there for unable to complete their usual tasks. Stranded on a heaping pile of garbage, with no way of retrieval and a shattered, glitchy optic lens that made it a little difficult to see out of.

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u know how i talk about sometimes im in a moment that feels like a dream… the last one was when i was with jeremy (as always… all my dream moments are with jeremy) we pulled off in some small town ive never been in on our drive to the beach to go to dairy queen. we went in and got ice cream and we sat in the back of his truck and ate our ice cream and we were surrounded by wheat fields. it felt like we were supposed to be there. it’s simple yet so hard to explain but we were meant to be there

Alberta Gothic

(all those posts were about america so i made a canadian one)

  • You drive south and see the rocky mountains to the east, and the north, and the south. As the moon rises you catch a glimpse of them under the setting sun.
  • The flames of oil pumps flare in the night, no oil pumps are visible once the sun rises.
  • There’s a new Tim Hortons on 13th street. There’s a new Tim Hortons on 14th street. There’s a new Tim Hortons on 15th street. You don’t recall ever seeing a street numbered higher than 12 before today.
  • Tiny towns seen from the highway, neon lights moving in ways that signs don’t.
  • They say West Edmonton Mall has everything you need to live there. Maybe that’s why he never came back.
  • The south is supposedly the bible belt. These don’t look like much like the bibles you’re used to, too many dark red stains making certain verses illegible.
  • Fields of canola, next to fields of wheat, next to fields of… no one really knows, but everyone wears ear plugs to block out the screams when harvest time rolls around.
  • Mile after mile of desolate scrub land, the grass dripping with red under the midday moon.
  • Late summer brings rain and floods, filling the river valleys with water, washing away the aftermath of early summer.
  • Children learn about the northern forest in school. People claim that their cousin went there for vacation. Where else would the logging industry get it’s money from? But no matter how far north you go, all you see are fields.
  • The wind farms grow closer every time you see them, blades disappearing as the pillars grow to tower above everything. Bird corpses litter the ground for acres around.
  • In winter the snow piles up higher and higher, hiding the things that everyone refuses to talk about.

i. the feeling of stillness when we wake up before dawn and the rest of the world still quietly sleeps, the trace of salt still on your lips after a swim in the ocean, two hands clasped tightly together, the fading distance between two cities, paper airplanes soaring through the wind and the faint echoes of laughter

ii. the fuzzy sound of your car radio, my two feet basking in the warm sunlight that glows on your dashboard, sinking toes into damp soil, the taste of honey on your tongue, the parts of your teeth that show when you smile, a jar of honey left out on a ledge, spinning around in circles until you fall, the sound of doors slamming in the wind, mid-October picnics and the surprise of a well thought out flower bouquet

iii. counting the freckles on the small of your back, rolling around in a field of wheat grass, the neon lights of a small town road side diner lighting up, the thing my heart did in my chest when you whispered “I love you” for the first time, withered picket fences in the middle of summer heat, and spilled cola bubbling on the sidewalk

iv. the sound of paper being crumpled, the moldy smell of day old milk, the hum of the refrigerator half past mid-night, telling ghost stories around a camp fire, loneliness personified, the sound of heavy footsteps in the attic, a collection of old ticket stubs, the sound of dozens of hands clapping all at once, starting an old car engine, and the balled up lint I found in my pocket the other day

v. rain drops falling on fresh asphalt, the feeling in my chest when you’ve been away for far too long, a pair of worn rainboots, the fog that swallows docks whole, the patter patter of rain hitting the ground, the expanse of an empty airport, feeling around for something in the dark, falling out of love and into the unknown

vi. the sound of chalk against the sidewalk, going for a walk hand in hand as the sun sets, the feeling of cotton rubbing against the small of my back, biting into sour strawberries, scraped knees, a pocketful of round candies, and a series of long hugs from a former lover

—  colors embodied by nicole moon