#the state of north dakota
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NO BEGINNINGS - a throam powerpoint
#throam#bismarck#the state of north dakota#usa#gay#gabe saporta#jon walker#panic at the disco#not all ryans#ryan ross#brendon urie#cabin#woods core#cottage core#drinking alone in your car#peeing in deference#jackiemeandthispod
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High Dog Winter Count, [documenting 114 years of a Teton Dakota band's history from 1798-1912] [North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum, State Historical Society of North Dakota, Bismarck, ND]
#art#drawing#visual writing#pictogram#winter count#north dakota heritage center & state museum#state historical society of north dakota#no date
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North Dakota State Bison
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Sylvan lake, Custer State Park, South Dakota.
#sylvan lake#custer state park#south dakota#mine#nature#naturalist#nature photography#photography#ecology#north america#scenery#landscape photography#landscape#lake#geology#state parks
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American bison Bos bison
Observed by rudyclaeys, CC-BY-NC
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armor colors in rvb are interesting because there was clearly a theme with the freelancers wearing neutral colors (black, white, gray, tan, brown) but then the dakota's are purple and carolina is cyan. like carolina gets a pass because she has adaptive cameo, but I refuse to believe that the dakota's as stealth specialists voluntarily picked purple and green.
#i have a hc that wash's armor was originally yellow w gray accents but the second he saw it he went “nope. absolutely not.”#and the armor tech guys refused to change it so he painted it himself since he used to do the same thing w his odst armor#the tech guys were so mad that he'd spray paint this expensive state of the art armor so they changed it after that bc they realized that#wash was not fucking around lmao#rvb#red vs blue#agent south dakota#agent north dakota#agent carolina#project freelancer#yes i know that the armor colors in halo 2 were significantly less saturated than they were in 3 but still
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discord rivals
#myart#rain world#rain world fanart#five pebbles#looks to the moon#no significant harassment#hashtag bismark hashtag north dakota hashtag state capital discourse#tumblr user simcardiac-arrested flipping a coin on whether he will make rw angst or rw memes. today is meme day#but one day the coin will fall on the other side……smiles. refuses to elaborate leaves
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The Great Best-Midwestern-State Grand Cage Match Battle Royale: Round 2 (Electric Boogaloo), This One’s for All the Marbles:
In honor of the sudden and unexpected arrival of 12-option polls, I can finally redo my popular and controversial “Best Midwestern State” poll, this time with all the options people were clamoring for me to add!
That’s right! No more lumping the Dakotas together (not that they even deserve to be separate states to begin with) and you can now vote for Missouri, thanks to the literal dozens of people who insisted I add it. Apparently Missouri has a lot of shooters out there (pretty good for a southern state).
FIGHT!
#Polls#doing this again because why not?#US#Midwest#Best Midwestern State#Illinois#Minnesota#Michigan#Wisconsin#Ohio#Indiana#Iowa#Missouri#Kansas#Nebraska#South Dakota#North Dakota
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USS North Dakota (BB-29) at anchor, circa 1918.
#USS North Dakota (BB-29)#USS North Dakota#Delaware Class#dreadnought#battleship#warship#ship#1918#undated#World War I#World War 1#WWI#WW1#united states navy#navy#us navy#usn#u.s. navy#my post
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Plains Bison in Custer, South Dakota, USA
Stephanie LeBlanc
The Plains bison is one of two subspecies/ecotypes of the American bison, the other being the wood bison.
Status: Near Threatened
Population: 45,000
Scientific Name: Bison bison bison
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Chordata
Subphylum: Vertebrata
Class: Mammalia
Order: Artiodactyla
Family: Bovidae
Subfmaily: Bovinae
Tribe: Bovini
Genus: Bison
Weight: 701 to 2,000 pounds
Length: 7-12 ft.
Habitat: Grassland
Range: Bison once roamed from Florida to Washington, Canada, and Mexico - The entire U.S.
Predators: Wolves are the primary predator of bison across the continent. Local knowledge also indicates that bears play a role in predation.
Diet: Bison are considered generalist foragers, meaning they eat a wide array of herbaceous grasses and sedges commonly found in mixed-grassed prairies. These types of plants include species such as Blue gramma, sand dropseed, and little bluestem.
Lifespan: The average lifespan for a bison is 10–20 years, but some live to be older. Cows begin breeding at the age of two and only have one baby at a time. For males, the prime breeding age is six to 10 years.
Importance: Bison graze the grasses at different heights, providing nesting grounds for birds. They also roll around and pack down the soil in depressions in the ground known as wallows. Their wallows fill with rainwater and offer breeding pools for amphibians and sources of drinking water for wildlife across the landscape.
#Custer#South Dakota#USA#Plains Bison#Bison#Wildlife#SDWildlife#US#United States#United States of America#North America
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Kellyn March
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Population: 125,990
Urban population: 216,214
The submitter commented, “It has a movie/show named after it so I’m curious how many people know it/have been to it”
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Wow me, drawing Jersey? Craazzzyyyyy
Anyway, I had an original design for this type of look on the Ipad, ended up not looking at it once since I apparently have memory. Kinda glad I didn't since I could go just by memory and figure it out as I went along ya know. (ps, for those who don't normally read tags just like, please do, i put so many lil things in there lolz)
Okay SO, I have this lil headcanon, nothin big, that Jersey didn't used to wear shorts until like 2000 or something, maybe a bit before then. This is because he has some scars on his legs, just from over the years, and wearing shorts not only shows those but also make it easier for him to get scrapes and such.
He was fine wearing shorts around NY, Del, and Rhode, occasionally Mass as well if he happened to be around at the time. He couldn't wear them around anyone else for a long time, some scars had Memories(tm) attached to them, some good most bad, so he just never wore shorts.
He's gotten a lot more comfortable wearing them around the other states over the years, mainly because of Covid where Mass unfortunately wouldn't let him keep wearing the same two pairs of pants. So he's fine now, if still a lil uncomfortable around some states (the west mainly), you just won't see him wearing them until it's the first day over 60 in state.
Anyway I love NJ but this isn't surprising, I live here. I am NOT a simp for this bitch, he's my state, I have to like him, 'sides who else would I attach to? Pennsylvania? Florida? Or god forbid NEW YORK!? Absolutely not, that's sacrilegious that is.
#welcome to the table#wttt#wttt new jersey#wttsh new jersey#also#jersey with a bun#how we feelin bout it#i personally love it#like i love the idea that his hair is shorter underneath#like maybe from an undercut thats just outgrown?#also also the headband he's using is one of SJs#although they are more like communal headbands#since yorkie connie and a few other northers “borrow” them#i feel like this pic was taken sometime during the summer#either at the shore or a roller rink#i feel like jersey would drag the group out all the time during the summer#the group being york connie penn rhode florida loui cali new mex north dakota and occasionally texas and kentucky#florida and loui only join because of cali#connie because there needs to be one “responsible” adult to supervise (he isnt much better but is trusted)#nd because jersey is very persuasive (he really isnt but nd caves quickly)#texas mainly joins when food is involved or its a rodeo#and kentucky would just more but sigh horses#honestly more states would join but they either learned their lesson (cough The Action Park Incidents(tm) cough)#or jersey never thought to ask them because the poor boy has self esteem problems since apparently NJ is one of the most disliked states#still sad about the btw cause NJ is so nice but also please stay away we dont want you here#anyway he thinks that most states dont like him so he only invites those that he knows dont hate him#so most of OG13 plus florida and loui
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midwestern gothic
It's snowing again. It snowed yesterday. It snowed the day before. It's supposed to snow tomorrow. The weather man's hair is gray. He says that it has always been February. You must have counted the days wrong. Your calendar says it's June.
The basement of the Catholic church has a Stephen King book on the lending shelf. It's a beaten up copy, and some old church lady has gone through and blacked out parts in thick sharpie. There are pages with only one word visible. The pages are yellow. The name in the cover is accompanied with a funeral card. "Rest in peace" it reads. You do not think that someone who took Stephen King's most offensive scenes to the grave with her will be able to rest peacefully.
The basement of the Lutheran church smells like coffee. "It smells like coffee," your uncle says, "Church basement coffee." "I know," you say, because you're in the church basement. "It smells like death." He smiles at you, and raises his styrofoam cup towards you. The coffee smells stronger on his breath.
Jerry's is never open past ten on the weekends. One time, driving past at midnight on Saturday, the windows were full of light. There were no cars in the parking lot. You are struck with the memory of all the taxidermied animals on the walls.
"That's how we made it in the great depression," you say, when your friend asks why you made such a brown looking food. "We're not in the great depression now," they answer, as though they can't see the eyes of your dead great grandmother in the window, looking at you with a friendly and menacing look, "Why do you make it like that?"
The sun is hot. The sun is burning. Your skin is cooking, your flesh is sizzling. You were not made for these temperatures. The world took too long in training you to survive the cold. It never taught you how to brave the heat. You set foot on the sand. You feel your skin begin to melt. You run.
The last berry is sitting in the bowl. No one will touch it. No one will look at it. It is invisible to every eye. Your littlest sister reaches for it. You slap her hand like she's reaching for a hot coal. That berry does not exist. No one will touch it. No one will look at it. It is invisible.
You're sitting on the boat in the sunshine. The water laps lazily against the side. You look down into the water, and you see a shark. You pull back, staring up at the clear blue sky. You look down towards the water again. There are no teeth. The shark is gone. It's a freshwater lake.
There are twinkies in the glove box of your car. There is a shovel in the trunk. There is an ice scraper in the pocket of the door. There is a pair of thick, warm mittens in your bag. They have been there since winter. It's October.
Your grandfather is telling you about the fish he caught in his ice house. No one was around to see it, and he threw it back. It sounds like the shark you saw last summer. Everyone laughs. You do too.
You go out to visit the ice house. The sun is starting to set. You'll have to drive back in your grandfather's truck. It's been on the ice all day. You open the door, and the black and white fish-camera screen shows you the relics of frozen plants, and a northern swims right by the camera. It's tail swooshes. It has an almost human look in its eye. You think it knows who you are. It probably wants to eat you.
Hockey is on in the background. Your grandmother is drinking a beer. She's talking about her parents. They have been dead for 20 years. She's cursing about them. She shouldn't speak ill of the dead. No one tells her to stop. You don't want to listen. You sit there. The only alternative is to watch the hockey game.
There are forty-five dear in your front yard. They see you. Their glowing eyes blink in the darkness. They stare. You shake your fist at them through the glass of your window. Their eyes glow red. Something horrifying lives within them. You don't want to know what it is. There are forty five deer. They continue to eat your flower garden.
You do not smile for three days. You make seven people cry uncontrollably in front of you. The other three you interact with call you names behind your back. Your parents give you a talking to about your attitude. The lady at church tells you, "Some of us have been thinking about how we need to maintain a really welcoming and upbeat attitude for newcomers to our parish! Being rude and impolite really won't attract anyone to our parish, and I have seen some people just be generally downhearted when they come to church. It's an issue. I think I'll go bring it up with the pastor. He'll get it out to everyone." You plaster a smile on your face. No one says anything. You're supposed to be polite.
It takes you seven hours to get to your grandma's house. There are no hills for the entire drive. In the winter, the stretch of highway is the only thing that keeps you sane. People went mad on prairies like this, your mom says, to a car full of quiet people. Nothing but the sky and the grass and the wind and their one-room houses. You believe her. You can see the images of buildings on the horizon, always the same distance away.
There is a cemetery in the center of a farmer's field. A church used to be there, someone once said to you. They tore it down, but kept the cemetery. You wonder why they have respect for creation but not the creator. You wonder what made them tear the church down. You wonder if anyone visits. You drive past that lonely cemetery at night. You think you see someone staring at you from behind the chicken-wire fence. You look away.
There is a sign on the side of the highway, written in ominous letters. It comes into focus as you drive by. Best place to buy knitting supplies in the whole state! You don't believe them. You see the sign five more times. Then they get worse. Come to our store. We need you at our store. We know who you are. We have yarn for you. We know where you live. Each one gets more threatening. Stop at our store. The last one reads, and so you pull over at the correct intersection. You buy five bags of yarn. The lady behind the desk is smiling. You smile back. You cannot feel your lips.
All the kids at school hate you. You'll never tell them. They cannot know.
The Kwik Trip has a nasty bathroom. Theirs are usually so clean. You feel sick. You walk out and tell your mom you need to go to the identical gas station across the street. Her eyes flash. She buys her soda, and you drive across the road. The gas station is identical in every way. The displays are the same. The candy is in the exact same spots. They have the same magazines. The man working at the desk is the exact same one. This bathroom is clean, though. You buy another soda and leave. The bell rings to announce your departure.
The city is different now. The lights are too bright. The smell hangs low. The crime is higher. You don't feel safe walking outside at night. You think about the wolves that used to live here. You hope they haunt the streets. They deserve to.
Someone shot up the big city Walmart yesterday. They're closing down. You hear a disappointed church lady tell her friend that she doesn't know where to get her radium, anymore. All the good places are going out of business. "It's those stupid kids," she says, "And all the theft. I wish I lived in Kewaunee." You are too caught up on the "radium" thing to question the name of that town.
Your boss is angry. You can feel it in the air. It vibrates around you like a jelly, stifling and crushing you, pushing your lungs into your chest. She smiles at you as you clock out. "You're fired" she says, her eyes trying to commit a crime. Her lips do not move as she speaks. They are frozen in her "customer service" smile.
You dump things into a pot. You do not read the labels. Everything sounds the same. Everything tastes the same. You have not touched your spice rack in three years. You have not ever smelled cardamom in your life. You do not know what chili is supposed to taste like. It's all the same. Everything is the same. It all tastes like hotdish. You eat it like it's the last food on earth and you're starving.
#midwestern gothic#my writing#horrors within my comprehension#quite literally#i wrote it#midwestern#minnesota#wisconsin#north dakota#south dakota#iowa#united states#gothic#gothic aesthetic#goth aesthetic#midwesterners#for bethany
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State Griffin: North Dakota!
Western Meadowlark (State Bird) + Nokota Horse (Honorary Equine)
#griffin#state griffin#north dakota#state bird#state animal#animal mashup#creature mashup#mythical creatures#digital art
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