Lucifer the promqueen

Me: *Removes my cat from my lap to do something else.*

My cat: Father is…evil? Father is unyielding? Father is incapable of love? I am running away. I am packing my little rucksack and going out to explore the world as a lone vagabond. I can no longer thrive in this household.

The spiritual successor to Miette

Might I also add

May i add the piece from artist Verbal Vomit

Glad to see we’re all in agreement that cats talk like disparaged victorian children

I am so incredibly glad we finally moved on from “i can has”. Cats are clearly smart enough for advanced sentence structure and dumb enough to draw entirely incorrect conclusions about what they’re talking about.

My cat, banging the cabnet door over and over and over: bang bang bang

Me: you will not earn what you desire by banging the cabinet door.

My cat: This is a test of wills, is it not? We shall see if your ability to put up with my incessant banging outlasts my eternal lust for snackie treats. Years of conditioning have hardened me for this purpose. bang bang bang

Me: ksst!

My cat, throwing herself to the ground like she’s been shot: Oh! Oh I have been assailed in my own home! Have mercy, have pity! Surely in the cruel darkness of your heart there is some mote of goodness that might stay your hand! Do not strike me, I pray you!

Me: ok

My cat, after waiting about 3 minutes: bang bang bang

Can haz snackytreat

(source)

THERES MORE THIS POST JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER 😂😂😂

-From experience-

My Cat, 1AM: Father has abandoned me. It has been weeks and weeks since his snoring began in the room I cannot enter. Clearly I shall perish, but first I shall scream at him from the door, hoping he awakes; perhaps if I thrust myself bodily upon the door–

Me, startling awake to the door being banged by a screaming cat: Go play with something else kitten!

Cat: shame on you. Shame on your house. Thou hast thrust me into a barren waste. I simply wish to curl up on you. The myriad of toys and food out here are naught to me, but for your warmth.

Me *relents*, leaving the door open.

Wakes up to kitten clawing it’s way across my chest in the middle of zoomies at 3AM.

wheres those tweets where like. someone misread a tweet saying marx was ugly as their bias being ugly so they attacked them and they were like UNPROVOKED??? but when the responder realised they misread it instead of chilling out they doubled down

missing the best part about this whole interaction imo

if you learn to love bugs with all your heart the world will feel half as hostile and a thousand times as big

Can confirm.

You know that vast sensation you get when you look up at the stars and go “wow there are whole other worlds out there, massive, mysterious, and unknown.”

I have that same sensation when I crouch down to look at dirt, mud, grass, tree roots, ant hills, rotten logs, leaf litter, roadkill, big dry rocks that I’m not strong enough to turn over… there are whole other worlds down there, mysterious and just known enough for me to feel it when I stare at them.

I know this will sound condescending and pretentious to some people but when someone flat-out doesn’t care about biology and nature and all the different kinds of weird fantastical lives everywhere around them I genuinely cannot fathom going through life like that and being happy at all. What do they THINK about all day?? Literally just invented stuff? Just presidents and batman movies and pizza toppings? When they think about animals it’s just “I like dogs” or “oh there’s a bird?” What is the planet like from that vestigial almost dead perspective? It sounds horrifying. People who never think of worms or bugs or protozoa or plankton or fungi beyond “that exists” or “ew I guess” are like those kid’s cartoons where an alien civilization has never heard of music and it’s a metaphor for their societal oppression or something

ASDFGHJKL

Plays and short fiction are about reading the single most fucked up thing you've ever encountered in 45 minutes or less and then going back to work like you didn't just meet both faces of god and satan on your lunch break

Snowstorm followed by a sand storm in Tabuk, Saudi Arabia. (SOURCE)

Ice cream

angel food cake

tiramisu

Forbidden coconut.

the sexy girlbots are returning. nature is healing

It's like when they reintroduced wolves to yellowstone

YOU CALL THIS HEALING?!? I'M UNDER FUCKING SIEGE

- deer and other prey animals when they reintroduced wolves to Yellowstone

the languages siblings speak are absolutely incomprehensible to outsiders btw. even parents. best of luck to the amazon wiretappers who have to try to piece together what my brother and i are talking about, sorry u just had to be there.

sooooo can yall help me determine if this is a fireable offense

a lady just came in asking if we have oat milk and we dont so i said “our soy milk is pretty good though, thats what i use in my drinks!” and she looked at me and went “yknow soy milk lowers a mans sperm count” and without thinking i just went “cant lose something you never had”

youre laughing. i got called a soy boy and youre laughing

okay to the people confused by this allow me to shed a little light on the subject

icant fucking breathe

I know I’ve already reblogged this but I absolutely love this old timey adhd info graphic

i could escape the narrative actually. rip to the rest of you but i'm gonna get out of here.

girl help i've become the audience, no longer confined by the narrative yet equally powerless to change it

I wonder if, in superhero universes, the villains ever get contacted by those “Make a Wish Foundation” and similar people.

I mean, the heroes do, of course they do, kids who want to meet Spiderman or Superman or get to be carried by the Flash as he runs through Central City for just thirty seconds.

But surely there are also the kids, who - because they are kids and sometimes kids are just weird - decide that what they really, really want is to meet a supervillain. Because he’s scary or she’s awesome or that freeze ray is just really, really cool, you know?

Oh, man, that would absolutely be a thing. The heroes would be so weirded out by it. The villains with codes of ethics would totally band together to force the villains without one (should they be the one requested) to do their part for the cause.

But imagine the person who has to track down the villains and organise everything?

Like, the first time it happens, no one actually thinks it’s possible, but one of the newbies volunteers to at least try. They get lucky, the kid wants to meet one of the villains who is well known to have a personal code of ethics (eg one of the rogues), and it takes them weeks to track the villain down to this one bar they’ve been seen at a few times, plus a week of staking out said bar, but they finally find them.

So they approach the villain, very politely introduce themselves and explain the situation, finishing with an assurance that, should the villain agree, no law enforcement or heroes will be informed of the meeting.

The villain, assuming it’s a joke, laughs in their face.

At this point, the poor volunteer, who has giving up weeks of their time and no small amount of effort to track down this villain, all so a sweet little girl can meet the person who somehow inspired them, well, at this point the employee sees red.

They explode, yelling at this villain about the little girl who, for some unknown reason, absolutely loved them, had a hand-made stuffed toy of them and was inspired by their struggle to keeping fighting her own and wasn’t the villain supposed to have ethics? The entire bar is witness to this big bad villain getting scolded by some bookish nobody a foot shorter than them.

When the volunteer is done, the villain calmly knocks back their drink, grips the volunteers shoulder and drags them outside. The bar’s patrons assume that person will never be seen again, the volunteer included. But once they’re outside, the villain apologises for their assumption, asks for the kid’s details so they can drop by in the near future, not saying when for obvious reasons. They also give the very relieved volunteer a phone number to call if someone asks for them again.

A week later, the little girl’s room is covered in villain merchandise, several expensive and clearly stolen gifts and she is happily clutching a stack of signed polaroids of her and the villain.

The next time a kid asks to meet a villain, guess who gets that assignment?

Turns out, the first villain was quite touched by the experience of meeting their little fan, and word has gotten around. The second villain happily agrees when they realise it’s the same volunteer who asked the other guy. Unfortunately, one of the heroes sees the villain entering the kid’s hospital and obviously assumes the worst. They rush in, ready to drag the villain out, but the volunteer stands in their way. The hero spends five minutes getting scolded for trying to stop the villain from actually doing a good thing and almost ruining the kid’s wish. The volunteer gets a reputation among villains as someone who can not only be trusted with personal contact numbers but who will do everything they can to keep law enforcement away during their visits.

The volunteer has a phonebook written in cypher of all the villain’s phone numbers, with asterixes next to the ones to call if any other villains give them trouble.

Around the office, they gain the unofficial job title of The Villain Wrangler.

The heroes are genuinely flabbergasted by The Villain Wrangler. At first, some of the heroes try to reason with them.

Heroes: “Can’t you, just, give us their contact details? They’ll never even have to know it was you.”

The Villain Wrangler: “Yeah sure, <rollseyes> because all these evil geniuses could never possibly figure out that it’s me who happens to be the common thread in the sudden mass arrests. Look man, even if it wouldn’t get me killed, it would disappoint the kids. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the kids would you?”

Heroes: “… no~ but…”

The Villain Wrangler: “Exactly.”

Eventually, one of the anti-hero types gets frustrated, and decides to take a stand. They kidnap the Villain Wrangler and demand that they give up the contents of the little black book of Villains, or suffer the consequences. It’s For the Greater Good, the anti-hero insists as they tie the Villain Wrangler to a pillar.

The Villain Wrangler: “You complete idiot, put me back before someone figures out that I’m missing.”

Anti-hero: “…excuse me?”

The Villain Wrangler: “Ugh, do I have to spell this out for you? Do you actually want your secret base to be wiped off the map? With us in it? Sugarsticks, how long has it been? If they get suspicious, they check in, and then if I miss a check-in, they tend to come barging into wherever I am just to prove that they can, even if they figure out that they’re not being threatened by proxy. Suffice to say, Auntie Muriel really regretted throwing my phone into the pool when she strenuously objected to me answering it during family time. If they think for even one moment that I’ve given them up, they won’t hesitate to obliterate both of us from their potential misery. You do know some of the people in my book have like missiles and djinni and elemental forces at their disposal, right?”

Anti-hero: “Wait, what? I thought they trusted you?!”

The Villain Wrangler: “Trust is such a strong word!”

Villain: “Indeed.”

Anti-hero: “Wait, wha-” <slumps over, dart sticking out of neck>

The Villain Wrangler: “Thanks. I thought they were going to hurt me.”

Villain: “You did well. You kept them distracted, and gave us time to follow your signal.” <cuts Villain Wrangler free>

The Villain Wrangler: <rubbing circulation back into limbs> “Yeah well, you know me, I do whatever I have to. So I’ll see you Wednesday at four at St Martha’s? I’ve got an 8yo burns unit patient recovering from her latest batch of skin grafts who could really use a pep talk.”

Villain: “… of course. Yes… I… yes.”

The Villain Wrangler: “I just think you could really reach her, you know?”

Villain: <unconsciously runs fingers over mask> “I… yes, but, what should I say?”

The Villain Wrangler: “Whatever advice you think you could have used the most just after.”

Villain: <hoists Anti-hero over shoulder almost absently> “….yes.”

The Villain Wrangler wasn’t lying to the Anti-hero. They know that the more ruthless villains would not hesitate if they thought for one second that the Anti-hero would betray them.

But this is not the first time the Villain Wrangler has gone to extreme lengths to protect their identities.

Trust is a strong word. The Villain Wrangler earned it, and is terrified by what it could mean.

My first official deadpool headcanon is this. This this this.

Okay but this whole concept actually makes a lot of sense, because villains are a lot more likely to be disfigured/disabled/use adaptive devices (bc ableist tropes), so of course, say, a child amputee is going to be more interested in the villain with a robot arm who almost destroyed New York than the heroes that took him down.

Also, imagine one of the kids gets better, and a few years down the line becomes a villain themself, except their crimes are things like smuggling chemo drugs across the border for families that can’t afford treatment, or stealing from corrupt businessmen to make donations to underfunded hospitals (idk this turned into a Leverage AU or something) and every time the heroes encounter her, they’re like “oh no. she’s getting away. curses. welp, nothing we can do.” Though it isn’t that she can’t take them on; bc of course once the villain from way back when found out what she was up to, he started helping/training her. 

“I thought they just hired someone to dress up and pretend to be you,” she says, amazed, when he reveals himself. “I didn’t think they actually got the real you!”

Every year the Villain Wrangler gets a very expensive gift basket from the pair.

and for the kids who don’t get better the villains are there too, they show up to every funeral, they bear too small coffins on their shoulders and the heroes stand aside

they are fierce with grieving families assuring them that their child will not be forgotten, and they don’t balk at negative emotions, they don’t tell people to be strong or “celebrate their child’s life,” because these parents have every right to their grief and anger

and the lost children are never forgotten. flowers appear on graves during birthdays and anniversaries, heroes find pictures of those kids and they carefully take them down and ensure they’re delivered to the villain’s cell, and a few villains can be seen with friendship bracelets wrapped around their wrists the cops have learned not to try and take them off

And then one day, one of the evil geniuses who happens to specialise in inducing bizarre genetic mutations meets a young fan who was born with a rare genetic disorder that is slowly killing them, and realises that they can help.

Another, who created their own exosuit, talks to a young fan and suddenly understands how much the technology that they have built for themselves could revolutionise quality of life for people with muscular dystrophy, or paraplegia, or other disorders that confine people to wheelchairs with little mobility.

A third thinks of a way that their nanobots could be used to detect and remove cancer cells when their fan, who had been in remission, writes to say that the doctors have found a new metastasizing tumour.

Then shortly after, an evil genius specialising in cloning is contacted by an old colleague asking if a suitable heart couldn’t be grown for their young fan with a congenital heart condition who needs a donor.

Suddenly, a pattern of villains offering (and marketing) their insights and resources to improve medical science starts to arise. Many who had previously been operating on society’s fringes are shocked to receive public accolades, research grants and job offers from major companies because of their work.

A grassroots movement arises advocating for imprisoned villains with appropriate qualifications and/or experience to have access to resources to conduct research for the public good. The Second Chance Rehabilitation Project launches.

(It is an open secret that only people who have been vetted by the Villain Wrangler are allowed to join, because the Villain Wrangler has by now a meticulously set up method and intelligence network to run background checks and character references through ensure that none of the children wishing to meet their role models get hurt.)

Being able to say that one is involved with the Project begins to look really good in parole hearings. The Villains involved perform their own quality checks on one another, because if one of their kids got hurt, then all of their kids could potentially lose out, and the ones that are serious about the Project are not having that. (Also, the ability to collaborate with other geniuses is the most interesting thing to happen to most of them since losing to various heroes, and most consider the intellectual stimulation to be worth putting up with the ridiculous egoes and inevitable personality clashes that arise.)

Reformed Villains come out of the woodwork to advocate about better mental healthcare, and support systems. Savvy universities and private labs quietly take their advice, setting up better mental health supports and laboratory safety standards to prevent the Brain Drain caused by losing their less stable scientists to the Costumes.

The Villain Wrangler watches all of this develop with a smile.

Their plan succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.

A little girl is one of the first. She asks to see Poison Ivy and there is a little worry that Batman might show up, especially if Harley goes with her, but the The Villain Wrangler is there, overseeing the whole affair, so everything goes as planned.

Ivy gets to the hospital early in the morning, with a curious Harley bouncing along on her arm, both eager to meet the child who asked to see Ivy. When they get there the hospital looks altogether to human, too nice. The Sun is a little too nice. Anywhere else it would be pretty, but the bright natural light infiltrating somewhere so cold gives Ivy a knot in her stomach.

The child is waiting for them: a little bald girl, fiddling with the fuffy pink pompom on the hat in her hands. The Villain Wrangler introduces them and Ivy kneels down in front of the girl.

“Is it-” The girl cuts her self off, nervously llooking away, but Ivy nods, giving her a gentle smile, and she continues. “Is it true you can talk to plants?” Brushing off her confusion (most of the children had asked to see someone with a similar experience to them, but here was a child asking if she could talk to plants) she glanced at Harley, who shrugged, and nodded to the child.

“Yeah, sure.” The child perked up, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the hospital. A sudden image flashed through Ivy’s mind of the bat waiting for her inside, using the sweet, innocent young children to lure them in, but she swallowed her thoughts and allowed herself to be pulled through the hoslital.

The child eventually stopped outside a blue door. “This is my room.” She pushed open the door, leeting Ivy in. By this point, Ivy was peering as far as she could, impatiently trying to figure out why the mysterious little girl wanted her there and Harley was holding tighly onto her arm, bobbing up and down on her heels, to see into the room.

At first, it was almost overwhelminly green. Ivy didn’t know what she expected. Poster of herself and Harley, maybe? But what she hadn’t expected was a room with walls covered in shelves upon shelves of various sizes of cacti. The floor was covered too, a curved path from the door to the bed and a couple of chairs was the only space not given over to clearly handpainted plant pots, each with a name on the rim and a cactus sprouting from centre. The girl was sat, nervously bouncing on her bed, unconsiously playing with the pink pompom on her head.

“Can you look after them, please? And tell them goodbye. And that I love them.”

This version, really broke me

OK THAT LAST ONE WAS NOT NEEDED 

At first i was like “wow, it got even better than the last time!” And then i was like “how very dare you break my heart like this.”

That was going so good and then I got fucking sucker punched into atmo.

aunt may does right by her nephew. 

who keeps giving her these things

she ends up condemned too D:

damn bitch get it together

She’s a Darklord now too

This what my phone translates the last card to

hey guys guess what

her old friends joined her

Good for them fuck shit up ladies

I wanna add those two girls’ names as cards, and they’re pretty great names. 

Also they are 100% drawn to be placed at Condemned Darklord’s sides. 

This is what peak polyamory looks like.

when u exit hyperfocus mode and ur immediately hit with every status effect ever

Oh fuck I gotta pee. Wait wait, I can’t stand up I’m gonna fall over. Shit I haven’t eaten in like 23 hours. Damn I’m thirsty, maybe I should— fuck why am I nauseous? Oh, I didn’t eat, right. It’s WHAT time? 3AM? Do I even have time to eat? Shit, I forgot to take my meds earlier. Or did I? Damnit. Why is my head pounding, oh, right, haven’t eaten and I’m dehydrated… fuck I still gotta pee

*minimizes word document and stands up* My body:

you all hate the position i sleep in because you haven’t advanced to my level and you’re jealous of my mental acuity and caustic wit as well as being extremely good at sleeping

This is like. The opposite of the recovery position

#reblogs at the end is killing me

I get my media recommendations the old fashioned way: by watching someone I follow on here go on an unhinged reblog spree of media related content until I eventually decide to go "alright, what's all this then"

So I have my dog trained to sit when she wants pet (she used to be very wild and jumpy when we first got her, it’s been a long road) so now when she wants attention she just sits very still and stares VERY intently at you (she’s extremely non verbal and hardly makes sound in general)

So, today I let her out and didn’t realize the fence gate was wide open, and she just shoots right out at this older man and a small girl (bc she just LOVES PEOPLE. A lot) The girl kinda shrieks and the man pulls her behind him (which I get it, my dogs small but she’s still part Pitt, and she was running full throttle at them) and all of a sudden my dog just pulls up completely, full stop, and plants her ass on the ground in front of them, staring and wagging her tail.

And they just stand there, staring at each other. She’s like, vibrating with energy, waiting for pets, and these people are like “wtf” so I run up and explain and the old guy was just so thrilled honestly. The little girl starts petting her and the old dude was gushing about how trained and well behaved she is (I mean, ignoring the fact that she shot out of the gate LMAO) but like, that just made me so happy. I’ve put so much time and effort into training her and making her feel safe and comfortable after he (horrifying) past and I’m just so so proud of her.

TLDR; my dog is a good gorl and I luv her

This is the good girl in question

OP I WOULD DIE FOR HER

the excitement is palpable

Oh, what a good baby. Sure, she shot out the gate, but the training kicked in perfectly, and that's just wonderful.

Pls do not reblog anything with the old disability pride flag, it does cause seizure and migraines, please use the new one which was created by the same person with the feedbacks of many other disabled people.

This is the safe one:

Dont use the zigzag one, your making disabled space inaccessible for a part of the community.

[ Image Description: A “Straight Diagonal” version of the Disability Pride Flag: A muted black flag with a diagonal band from the top left to bottom right corner, made up of five parallel stripes in red, gold, white, blue, and green. End Image Description ]

Here's the Reddit post where the original flag creator, Ann Magill, discusses the redesign (link).

Image Description was taken from that post. Also from that post is the symbolism of the flag: