anonymous asked:

Hi! I just stumbled upon your blog and I've never heard of vulture culture before- but it sounds really interesting. I was just wondering what it's all about! xx

Hello! Welcome!

Vulture culture is basically the appreciation, preservation and recycling of animal remains. Turning what is left when an animal passes away into something beautiful. What exactly this is can vary - bones, pelts, taxidermy, jewellery - even photos and art are ways of appreciating the dead. Creating a new ‘life’ after death, a way to learn new things from them, to give them a new purpose, to make sure something comes from their death, to honour them - the reasons each vulture does what they do vary from person to person, but in the end, we do it because we love animals. We don’t stop loving them after they die, we just find new ways to love them.

I find skulls and bones beautiful and fascinating and I learn a lot from them. I like to use them for education, and to show people how pretty they are. I also like helping animals get recycled back into nature safely by moving them off roads, and to preserve whatever I can of the beauty they left behind. You don’t have to deal with remains yourself to be a vulture, just appreciate them in some way - scientifically, aesthetically, spiritually, etc.


“I see what your mun is doing, Emma. And what my mun is doing. But, seeing as neither of us has our humanity on anymore, we’ve freed the zoo animals, your best friend just fucked my brother and some creepy cat person just fucked your brother, I’m pretty sure that everything is fine and our muns can go… you know. Fuck themselves.”

anonymous asked:

And like we rarely get animated females who aren't rail thin! Moana has the body of a normal woman, why erase that?


Honestly though, so many artists have been conditioned to draw thin bodies, that they can think any deviation from that is undesirable/ugly and “hard to draw”.


lorelei-braddock  asked:


  • Trouble & Co

“Desperation. It’s a funny emotion that adds a level of distrust to our tentative truce. I know without a doubt, that if it seems that fucking me over could help Iados, she’d do it in a heart beat. Thus far, my worth lies in what I have to offer, and it’s the only reason she hasn’t made an attempt on my life yet. I’m no idiot. I know that even while I’m saying this, she’s probably figuring I’m trying to fuck her over too. The thing is, the situation hasn’t played out well for either of us. We’re animals, wounded and cornered, and we act accordingly. It’s a tense balance of wary faith and lack of options. She’s unable to put her trust in anyone anymore, though I believe Iados to be that exception. I know what it’s like…to care for someone deeply, and watch them hang on a thread. It seems to be a never ending scenario for me, and putting myself in her shoes is not that hard. Moments of peace are coveted, and even though you hate the feeling, hope creeps into your heart and instills it with equal levels of inspiration and fear. Personally, I don’t think she’d be all that bad, once you got past the rough exterior. I truly do hope that my prototype is doing its job. If it buys us time, then I intend to commit to helping the pair. I know that the Universe is shitty and cruel, and Shy seems to have experienced that as intimately as I. When this is all said and done, I’m hoping we can both deliver a big fat ‘fuck you’ to the Twelve from down here on ground zero for all that they’ve failed to do, and all that we refuse to let them take.”

A Frozen Forever

I inch closer to you on the bench.

Two teenagers wrapped up in colorful thoughts

With hair over our eyes.

Always over our eyes.

We talk about scientific theories

And TS Eliot.

The still point of the turning world

Is us

When we’re together

In this calm space

That floats like the sun.

When I am with you

My body explodes into psychedelic flowers

In an illustration.

My brain turns

To a glowing jellyfish

Squirming through warm, translucent water

At the bottom of the ocean,

Where huge things grin silently

And glide like continents,

Opening their mouths.

We have so much to talk about.

Our minds could be spinning tops for days,

Getting crazier and crazier

As we go down the same twisted path

HP Lovecraft went down,

A dingy dark red highlighting zigzag brown trees.

We could speak


For days

About our passions.

But all this talk falls away

When I look into your eyes.

The only safe space.

A warm brown.

An age there beyond your years

That I melt in.

Like coffee but a thousand times richer.

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.