The Hawaiian #crow,
or ‘alalā, is extinct in the wild. As we gear up to reintroduce the
species, we’re learning that they’re highly skilled tool users and
apparently, they don’t like to share. So much for the expression “bird
“evolution basically goes “everyone change! now, who’s not dead?”
“giraffes are a totally fucking ridiculous shape”
[about the evolution of giraffes] “fuckers with the long necks ride more - have more offspring”
“it would be great to have intelligence and good eyesight”
“i’m so turned on right not by your inability to express anything coherently”
“you think i can’t see your phone behind the water bottle? is this your Trump persona”
“children don’t wake up and say ‘i wasn’t feeling that well today, but i got up anyway’ no it’s ‘toy, shit, sneeze, things directly around them’”
“i can tell you so much about death”
“the child assumes that when you lean behind the desk and say flabbledock, you actually mean something”
“how the fuck does a child learn the meaning of the word ‘party’?”
“the sensitivity to work out a word like party involves all this weird shit”
“humans can’t tolerate words having the same meaning”
“humans die, so you’re going to die, maybe not today, not tomorrow, but certainly by the end of the week”
“and if i replaced your baby with a kitten, you’d still say ‘ah, that’s lovely”
“if you didn’t have rickets in 1930s Dublin, you were nobody”
“chickens respond to the color yellow which isn’t a movie fact, so it won’t be on the exam”
“if an animal eats a rat it doesn’t stop there, i mean, once you do one, you don’t stop”
“it’s a rat eater, a fucking Trump supporter”
“when i was your age, back when we were battling the dinosaurs”
“the shot the soldier the mosquito bit missed - now what the fuck was that”
“now, when humans 2.0 come along, whenever that is, they’ll be able to deal with double phrase centering”
“somehow magically, you can concentrate better with your tongue sticking out”
“see i can’t say ‘ding dong ding dong” and have you say ‘who’s there?’ i have to say ‘knock knock” but nobody fucking knock on doors anymore, they ring the doorbell - that’s how language works”
“a lot of criminals have bumps here [on their heads] so that’s the criminality bump, a lot of priests have a bump here, so that’s the ‘i like children’ bump - that’s the basis of phrenology”
“if you look at a cat brain, it’s not as groovy… as you kids say today”
“evolution can’t just decide ‘oh let’s make a new brain that functions properly’”
[for Broca’s aphasia] “they understand ‘the car was chased by the dog,’ because cars don’t chase dogs, but they don’t understand ‘the cat was chased by the dog’ because it’s 50/50 whether the cat chased the dog, because cat’s are bastards”
“communicating an idea is different from language- ‘sure, i’d love to, does a bear shit in the woods?, is the pope a pedophile?’ - these are all ways to agree to go on a picnic”
Remember 2 months ago, when I said I want to give you a proper thank you for more than 100 follwers? Ha, didn’t think so. But I do and when Scout becomes your voice of reason, you know it is about time.
Anyways, at long last, here it is: My 250(+) followers give away!
how it works:
you must follow this blog (duh.)
reblog this post (one reblog is enough)
if you want to reblog this to a side blog, send me a message with your username (so I can check if you’re a follower), even better if you add a tag to the reblog that says ‘sideblog’ (or something like this), so my little bird brain doesn’t get confused
I will send the winners a message, so make sure you have enabled that
What ya get:
first prize: up to 3 characters, simple color/BG (colored like my answers to asks, see bottom left)
second prize: up to 2 characters simple color, no BG
third prize: 1 character sketch, no BG (see bottom right)
(simple BG means preferable outside, no complicated perspective)
I will draw:
fanart and OCs, it doesn’t have to be tf2 (be ready to provide references, especially for OCs)
Deadline will be the 2nd of March (because I can remember that date), so you have plenty of time :)
In case I hit 300 followers until then, there’ll be two second prizes as well.
Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is sorta short, I wanted to make this long as possible but alas I couldn’t. Thank you for the request though! Send more in if you want to see more. <3
Word Count: 595
Request: From @shut-it-tinman (Thank you dear)
Hey Widow! I really enjoy your work so far, and I was wondering if I could request something. Can you use the prompt: “Are you wearing my shirt?” with steve? Thaaaanks :D
You groaned in pain from the aches in your body.
“You look like shit (Y/N).” Clint had chuckled at you aching face.
“Well you smell like shit bird brain.” You retorted. He only raised his hands in defense. Clint walked away towards Nat to talk to intel collected from the now destroyed Hydra base. You just continued to mope in your pains and watched everyone work. You wouldn’t actively admit how sore you were but your face easily gave away what you were feeling.
“When are we going to be back home?” You groaned, every second away from your bath is another second adding to your misery.
Steve left his station and walked over towards you, he bent down and placed a warm hand on your head. “We’ll be home soon. You fought great out there today. You kept pushing yourself over your limit and I know no one will say this, well right now they won’t but, thank you. Without you pushing yourself that hard we probably wouldn’t have gotten that intel in time.” He pat your head once and left to go back to look over the intel.
You sighed to yourself, Steve was very appreciative towards the team but you always felt he had some what of a deeper appreciation for yourself. You were not one the complain from the affection but it always troubled you at times when trying to figure out his feelings towards you.
While lost in your thoughts you felt the jet land on the landing carrier at the Avengers Tower. Groaning even louder, you sat up from your spot and lazily walked towards the entrance of the tower.
Not even paying attention you walked towards what you thought was your room. When finally in it you realized it was in fact not yours but Steve’s. You didn’t even want to express how tired your were of everything.
“Fuck it…” You mumbled to yourself. You walked towards Steve’s closet and pulled out on of the softest shirts you could find. Stripping from your catsuit, you threw on the shirt, which conveniently landed just a little under you butt. You didn’t care for pants, everyone was basically family and it wasn’t like no one has ever seen a butt before.
You picked up your catsuit and left Steve’s room. Your stomach was practically screaming at you to put food inside of it. You patted your stomach, in a way to hush a whiny child.
Noises could be heard coming from the shared Avengers kitchen. Sounds of pots and pans became louder and louder once you walked in. The sights of everyone trying to find something to eat was positively hilarious to you. You decided on just finding leftovers in the fridge. As you walked up to it the sounds of everyone started to dwindle down.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” Steve had questioned you. You turned away to see a blush on his face. A blush started to form on yours as well from all the attention of everyone, including Steve’s.
“Uh- yea, sorry, I thought I had walked into my room, and, uh, it was yours and I was too lazy-“ You were cut off by Steve’s soft laughs.
“You look really cute in it (Y/N). I wouldn’t mind seeing you in my shirts more often.” He just continued to laugh softly to himself.
“Capsicle is going to get some tonight…” Tony had murmured to Clint. Clint and Tony had laughed loudly until Nat silenced them with a swift slap to the side of the heads.
Again, sorry this is super short. But thank you again for the request. Keep on sending them in! <3
Gay things Rottytops has done from GBC to Half-Genie Hero: the masterlist
(y’all can feel free to add more ok I haven’t played the others in a while)
IMMEDIATE affectionate trolling
“You’ve got passion. I like that.”
Literally stated that she HAD to help Shantae bc she likes her. They barely know each other at this point.
This is the only game I recall her addressing Shantae by name in. She constantly uses pet names in all the other games (although that seems to be her thing like she called Sky “featherhead” and “bird brain” and also calls Bolo “snack cakes” as well at some point)
The birth of “hey, snack cakes,” HER FIRST LINE IN THIS GAME
Also addressed Shantae as “chica”
Both of the above lines were said with a wink
Literally cried when she realised she’d betrayed Shantae for nothing (this is the only time she’s seen sad until HGH like… for her actually being sad and openly feeling guilty is VERY rare)
She’s “always runnin’ at the mouth about [Shantae],” according to Abner (please just try to imagine Rottytops just sat there with her brothers gushing non-stop about how cute and perfect Shantae is)
Faked a leg injury to get Shantae to carry her
According to Abner, Shantae makes her smile like no one else does
Actually followed Shantae to Tan Line Island
Said she won’t do anything for Risky, but she’d do it for Shantae
Was OVERJOYED when she got to wear matching outfits with Shantae and wanted to keep the outfit for herself rather than return it.
“No peeking inside,” she says, with a shit-eating grin
Actually gushed about Shantae TO Shantae without realising in the Village of Lost Souls and my god,,,,, that was gay
Couldn’t even make a start on getting her life back after seeing a photo of her brothers when they were alive and remembering them. No, she needed Shantae’s approval first. And then suddenly, after who knows how long with no little to no progress, Abner says she’s had a huge headstart – THANKS TO SHANTAE.
Invited herself over to Shantae’s house for a spontaneous sleepover by saying that she had the most wonderful dream and she’ll tell her all about it tonight
Got salty at Sky when Sky invited herself too so she could “keep an eye” on them, obviously fully aware of Rotty’s intentions
Half Genie Hero:
Addressed Shantae as snack cakes AGAIN (but said she’d drop it when Shantae asked her to)
Basically asked Shantae on a date with that whole magic carpet race thing
More affectionate trolling
Looked sad for the second time ever, only when Shantae was hurt and not herself anymore
When she tried to reach Shantae after that… hoo boy
ZOMBIE ROAD TRIP (aka literal korrasami ending)
Promo art/Twitter Doodles:
The Halloween sale promo art where she swaps clothes with Shantae and gives her exactly -20 personal space
THE ST PATRICK’S DAY TWITTER DOODLE MR BOZON DREW WHERE ROTTY PINCHES SHANTAE’S ASS BC SHE’S NOT GREEN
“… about the cool water
the wind sounds through sprays
of apple, and from the quivering leaves
slumber pours down …”
We lie here in the bee filled, ruinous
Orchard of a decayed New England farm,
Summer in our hair, and the smell
Of summer in our twined bodies,
Summer in our mouths, and summer
In the luminous, fragmentary words
Of this dead Greek woman.
Stop reading. Lean back. Give me your mouth.
Your grace is as beautiful as sleep.
You move against me like a wave
That moves in sleep.
Your body spreads across my brain
Like a bird filled summer;
Not like a body, not like a separate thing,
But like a nimbus that hovers
Over every other thing in all the world.
Lean back. You are beautiful,
As beautiful as the folding
Of your hands in sleep.
We have grown old in the afternoon.
Here in our orchard we are as old
As she is now, wherever dissipate
In that distant sea her gleaming dust
Flashes in the wave crest
Or stains the murex shell.
All about us the old farm subsides
Into the honey bearing chaos of high summer.
In those far islands the temples
Have fallen away, and the marble
Is the color of wild honey.
There is nothing left of the gardens
That were once about them, of the fat
Turf marked with cloven hooves.
Only the sea grass struggles
Over the crumbled stone,
Over the splintered steps,
Only the blue and yellow
Of the sea, and the cliffs
Red in the distance across the bay.
Her memory has passed to our lips now.
Our kisses fall through summer’s chaos
In our own breasts and thighs.
Gold colossal domes of cumulus cloud
Lift over the undulant, sibilant forest.
The air presses against the earth.
Thunder breaks over the mountains.
Far off, over the Adirondacks,
Lightning quivers, almost invisible
In the bright sky, violet against
The grey, deep shadows of the bellied clouds.
The sweet virile hair of thunder storms
Brushes over the swelling horizon.
Take off your shoes and stockings.
I will kiss your sweet legs and feet
As they lie half buried in the tangle
Of rank scented midsummer flowers.
Take off your clothes. I will press
Your summer honeyed flesh into the hot
Soil, into the crushed, acrid herbage
Of midsummer. Let your body sink
Like honey through the hot
Granular fingers of summer.
Rest. Wait. We have enough for a while.
Kiss me with your mouth
Wet and ragged, your mouth that tastes
Of my own flesh. Read to me again
The twisting music of that language
That is of all others, itself a work of art.
Read again those isolate, poignant words
Saved by ancient grammarians
To illustrate the conjugations
And declensions of the more ancient dead.
Lean back in the curve of my body,
Press your bruised shoulders against
The damp hair of my body.
Kiss me again. Think, sweet linguist,
In this world the ablative is impossible.
No other one will help us here.
We must help ourselves to each other.
The wind walks slowly away from the storm;
Veers on the wooded crests; sounds
In the valleys. Here we are isolate,
One with the other; and beyond
This orchard lies isolation,
The isolation of all the world.
Never let anything intrude
On the isolation of this day,
These words, isolate on dead tongues,
This orchard, hidden from fact and history,
These shadows, blended in the summer light,
Together isolate beyond the world’s reciprocity.
Do not talk any more. Do not speak.
Do not break silence until
We are weary of each other.
Let our fingers run like steel
Carving the contours of our bodies’ gold.
Do not speak. My face sinks
In the clotted summer of your hair.
The sound of the bees stops.
Stillness falls like a cloud.
Be still. Let your body fall away
Into the awe filled silence
Of the fulfilled summer —
Back, back, infinitely away —
Our lips weak, faint with stillness.
See. The sun has fallen away.
Now there are amber
Long lights on the shattered
Boles of the ancient apple trees.
Our bodies move to each other
As bodies move in sleep;
At once filled and exhausted,
As the summer moves to autumn,
As we, with Sappho, move towards death.
My eyelids sink toward sleep in the hot
Autumn of your uncoiled hair.
Your body moves in my arms
On the verge of sleep;
And it is as though I held
In my arms the bird filled
Evening sky of summer.
The saying “men are dogs,” is pretty fucking inaccurate and an insult to dogs. Dogs are always happy and they’ll love you unconditionally and follow you everywhere. Men are more like birds, fucking small-ass brains who chirp and squak and if you let them out of their cage their dumbass will most likely fly away and into a window or a brick wall.