FUCK. honestly just FUCK. We missed a very important day yesterday.

what was yesterday, cat?

I’m not missing it this year.

Happy Birthday buddy!

what

whatthe fuck

autism.website

nobody told me that alvin draper has a nose ring!! and earrings!! does this mean tim has a nose piercing?? 

(related doodles under the cut, feat. dick:)

Keep reading

My adaptation of the God of Arepo short story, which was originally up at ShortBox Comics Fair for charity. You can get a copy of the DRM-free ebook here for free - and I'd encourage you to donate to Mighty Writers or The Ministry of Stories in exchange.

Again it's an honour to be drawing one of my favourite short stories ever. Thank you so much for the original authors for creating this story; and for everyone who bought a copy and donated to the above non-profits.

“you support gay rights so you must be gay”

i support animal rights do i look like a fucking alpaca to you

turns out i am gay

holy shit how’d this alpaca learn how to type

Diversity win! The alpaca is gay!

I wish the fact he originally wore the cowl to protect his burns was brought up later

More on this, Tim was very close to the explosion

They spent multiple panels talking about the treatment of the injuries

And they make the extent of the burns very clear visually

They could’ve written about possible hearing loss from the explosion or brought up the burns when other characters frequently talked about the cowl but we got nothing-

#Hold on now I'm thinking of Tim with hearing aids (via)

please tell us more about tim with hearing aids and/or the longterm effects of him being so close to the explosion ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

After Tim’s let go at the hospital the doctor mentions that it could be possible for the current extent of the hearing loss to be temporary, though there would definitely still be some, so he’s told to wait a week and come back so they can fully assess the damage.

Dick is confident that Tim will get some of his hearing back, Tim and Alfred aren’t.

Tim and Alfred turn out to be right, it’s a about 70% to 80% in each ear.

Tim doesn’t tell Steph and asks the others not to either, since she technically has some responsibility over what happened. He knows she doesn’t feel guilt over the burns but it might be a different story with a permanent disability, if it isn’t? That’s a whole lot of emotions Tim’s not ready to deal with.

Oracle messages him when he’s ready she’ll gladly talk to him about her own experiences, which he’s grateful for, but it’s something else he’s not ready to talk about. He texts her back ‘thank you’ and goes back to watching the anarchy attacks on the news, which thankfully come with subtitles.

At this point he really misses Cass and Harold, two people who could relate to his current problem of communication but one of them’s in another continent and the others been dead a long time.

Tim insists on still being a hero so he and Alfred work on finding him some hearing aids that he’ll be able to wear out in the field, it’s going well, there’s plans for an in the ear hearing aid that could both double as and be disguised as a com link for his superheroing.

He has an over the ear hearing aid for his civilian life and until the in the ear hearing aids are ready, the burns are still healing so they’re a little painful to put on at first, less so with the Red Robin cowl and for secret identity purposes, thankfully hidden.

it’s going as well as it can, until Alfred gives Damian the Robin costume and Dick takes him on as his Robin, which Tim gets the wrong idea about.

As Tim’s search for Bruce goes on, the burns heal but leave a slight discoloration of the skin at the back of his head, he initially starts growing his hair out to cover it but after a while he actually starts liking the hair style and sticks with it.

When Tim is teaming up with Pru, and more so since the damage she received to her throat, they communicate through sign language, thankfully both have previous knowledge from their bat and assassin training.

But Tam is starting with the basics, Tim and Pru forgot ASL and BSL were different, it’s a bit of a mess for a while but they make it work.

Goodness, I want more of this. When will Steph find out and Damian feeling still out use it as a failure on Tim's side? What is Bruce gonna do once he comes back to the right time? What if, in his most darkest moment in the League, Tim thinks really hard about taking a dip in the Pit?

The names of the Club Q victims are out. Let’s pay our respects to each of them and celebrate their lives.

Daniel Davis Aston, 28

Daniel was a bartender at Club Q. An outspoken trans man, he continuously helped raise donations for Black trans people on his Instagram. He was “the light in every room” according to his close friend.

Raymond Green

Raymond was celebrating his friend’s birthday when the shots broke out. His friend Rich apprehended the shooter as he died. After his death, his girlfriend posted on Facebook, “u are my home. my heart. my everything. u changed my life. u made life worth living.”

Kelly Loving, 40

After moving from Florida, Kelly was new to the Colorado scene. A nurturing soul, she was “like a trans mother” to her friends. “She was loving, always trying to help the next person out instead of thinking of herself. She just was a caring person,” her sister told the New York Times.

Ashley Paugh, 35

Ashley and her friends decided to go to Club Q after spending time shopping and getting dinner together. She was a family woman and “lived for her daughter” according to her sister. She is survived by her husband and 11-year-old child.

Derrick Rump, 38

Always bubbly and joking, Derrick had no shortage of friends in the community. He was a part owner of Club Q. “He was a kind loving person who had a heart of gold,” his mother told reporters. “He was always there for my daughter and myself when we needed him also his friends from Colorado which he would say was his family also. He was living his dream and he would have wanted everyone to do the same.”

Colorado Gives is the official donation site for the survivors and victims’ families. Please donate if you can!

Can’t risk it

The duck of creativity. I waited so long for it.

Well I’m not risking that

BROTHERS!!!

BROTHERS!!!

Rebloging for the duck brothers

“ASHASHASHOWATSHAASHHASHOWSHAHSHWOSGAHWHSHAWATTOSHAGWSHA”

me trying to find the bathroom in the bar after 3 - 7 vodka sodas

Itchy snoot. 

HE DIRT BROKEN :(

poor shovel-nosed baby 😔

reblogging to normalize. because we really should be uplifting sex workers as bread winners. Also because they should be able to show their face in public without fear of repercussions??? (cough cough), like this gentleman.

Honestly its unhinged and hilarious but yet also seriously something I want to see more of

Reblog if you’re a cheap whore. Or respect cheap whores. Or have the power to turn young people into cheap whores. (they can never tell which)

this is exactly what shakespear envisioned when writing macbeth

it’s rly because the ideal mean girl friend group number is three because you can’t be a lone mean girl, 2 mean girls will begin cannibalizing each other without a third to neutralize, and 4 mean girls will splinter off into two self-cannibalizing mean girl duos. this is basic psychology.

Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.

In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.

I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.

But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.

I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.

He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.

But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.

And last week, he had a breakthrough.

Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.

Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.

Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.

This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.

I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.

___

If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.

concept: woman makes deal with demon to have it’s child in exchange for eternal life or some shit

woman then makes deal with witch and offers her first born for like, riches or something

woman dumps demon baby on witch, absconds with her winnings and leaves witch and demon fighting for custody

half demon baby grows up learning magic and visiting hell on weekends and every second christmas

does the woman act as a sort of vodka aunt who shows up sometimes to teach the child how to work the system?

“here you go timmy, have a new xbox. this year I’m going to teach you the ins and outs of magical tax evasion”

SHE DOES NOW

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post

…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment

likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post

i need all the help i can get for finals

Hey so

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like. 

So you know. 

This might be the real one, y’all.

happy pride month to country mama lynn and country mama lynn only

Someone give this woman a damn crown and medal

Happy pride month to country mama lynn and ger gay son only

aint it crazy how many people realize they're queer when they have the language to express how they feel and a support system to encourage self exploration????

I never stop enjoying reading this. Literally everyone's lives improves.

Ancient legends say that if you reblog this on June you get 110% gayer and stronger

Source

Video of Tama

Follow Ultrafacts for more facts

The picture in the background of the second one

Tama is boss

THE TRAINS HAVE CARTOON TAMAS ON THEM

Sad update everyone, Tama recently passed away… An estimated 3,000 people, including railway officials, attended Tama the cat’s funeral on Sunday, days after she died of heart failure aged 16. [x]

For those who haven’t read articles about it, the local shrine elevated her to a god. She’s now the Eternal Stationmaster and patron god of the station.

Beautiful.

Now I’m crying thanks

and a new cat was hired right?

yep! her name is Nitama (essentially ”second tama” or “tama II”) and she served under Tama as an apprentice before being appointed her deputy

she works very hard

Everytime this crosses my dash, I reblog. It is the law.

Law

I’m crying at 11pm over train cats

Nitama, already now a mature cat (born 2010), has a protege named Yontama (fourth Tama, b. 2016).  There is no information available for either the physical befellment or tragic self-disgrace which has removed Santama from contention.

^Nitama majestic, and below with Yontama

Yontama.

a legacy

okay but actually what happened to santama (or sun-tama-tama, which is her name because it’s a pun on santama) was that she was basically sent to train for the position in okayama and they liked her so much they refused to send her back

Every time I see this post there’s new info and it gets better

You are only allowed to scroll pass this after you pay tribute to the great Tama Station masters.

The shrine of Tama Daimyōjin (Great gracious deity Tama), next to the Kishi station where she worked.

Nitama presenting her yearly offerings to Tama Daimyōjin on the anniversary of Tama’s Death, June 23 (The offerings are presented by the company president, as Nitama is a cat and thus can’t hold the offerings herself) (Not pictured, but also present, Yontama)

you cannot pass without reblogging guys. i’m sorry, i don’t make the rules.

You can’t not reblog a goddess. It’s just what’s so. :)

So, fun fact- the manga Noragami has an arc where the main character, Yato (a minor kami/God that is down on his luck but trying to make it big time) goes to a council/conference for all the Gods in Japan.

And they are announcing the winner of the “up and coming god” award, and of course, Yato thinks it’s him.

But no-

ITS TAMA!

Always reblogging this.