Did I post this in my sleep? This is entirely possible. 

Damn look at that body.

Did I post this in my sleep? This is entirely possible.

Damn look at that body.

racebending:

Getting a lot of submissions/asks defending how two characters are portrayed in Rise of the Guardians based on posts from earlier this week (see our tag). The two most common explanations given to defend the depictions of these characters are not true, according to the “The Art…

YOU ARE UPSET BECAUSE THESE MYTHICAL CHARACTERS WERE NOT DEPICTED CORRECTLY BASED ON THEIR RACE MYTHICAL CHARACTERS IN AN ANIMATED MOVIE MYTHICAL CHARACTERS YOU ARE UPSET BECAUSE THE EASTER BUNNY’S MARKINGS ARE NOT TRUE ABORIGINAL MARKINGS THE EASTER BUNNY COME ON GUYS

domirine:

this is pretty much how my gameplay looks like

This was pretty much how my roommate played the game. She shot a dog in the head once because it wouldn’t stop barking. Needless to say, the towns people were not amused.

kaciart:

squidnipple:

deanialwinchester:

eastcollins:

JESUS

horrified cereal fan

grandma in russia kills wolf with bare hands and axe



First things first: Kaciart is amazing and you should all know that. But now I’m seeing the bat in the cereal as some kind of test all of the Robins need to go through. With a side of Cass as well.

Dick, unfortunately, had to go through it first, which must have been a terrible thing for a kid looking through his morning box of cereal, trying to find the prize that is always, always, hidden at the bottom. He might have even taken a bite of cereal already. But as we all know, you can never have just one bowl of delicious, sugary cereal. So he poured himself another, and just for a second, he thought it was his prize. But no. Not a prize. Instead, it was this thing in his cereal, of which he’d already taken a bite of. Alfred wasn’t too surprised when he saw Dick tearing out of the kitchen as fast as he could, one hand over his mouth as he rushed to the bathroom.

Jason was more angry then scared when he found it in his cereal one morning. He’d seen worse things in people’s cereal, how could a little bat be worse? At least it wasn’t a live bat. But it did ruin his appetite, and Alfred wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of breaking china. He simply went to the broom closet so he could get something to clean up the mess, and later he would bring fresh towels for him to wipe away the blood. Jason always did have interesting ways to take out his aggression. 

Tim thought he could handle it. He’d already handled everything that Bruce had thrown at him, that the psuedo-Jason Hush had thrown at them, through people dying around him. This should have been a no-brainer; just a little, dead, petrified bat in his cereal. He didn’t even notice it at first, reading the health information on the side of the box, but the harsh black against golden flakes would catch anyone’s eye. They hadn’t put prizes into cereal boxes for years in Gotham, after Batman and Robin had brought the group responsible for high levels of lead paint and toxic plastic in the little toys to justice. Tim set the spoon down, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin as he got up from the table and left the kitchen. Alfred thought that would be it, but a few minutes later, the tell-tale sound of Tim’s sneakers could be heard going down the hallway, back into the kitchen. Alfred checked his watch, waiting exactly five minutes to the second, before going back into the kitchen. Tim was seated at the table, surgical mask on, as well as latex gloves, a microscope set up as he held the tiny bat by its wing with a pair of tweezers. When he looked up, it was like a deer caught in headlights; Alfred kept his smile in check, going to the cupboard and pulling out another box of cereal.

"Cheerios, Master Timothy?"

Cass may have never been a Robin, but she, like all the others, needed to go through this ritual. Some sort of test to show… no one knew anymore, not really. A rite of passage, like trying on the scaly panties, or dressing like the opposite gender while undercover. Cass was already quiet, and she didn’t mind Alfred being in the same room as her, him drinking a cup of coffee, her sitting on one of the counters with a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal. She picked up the bowl, then the box, balancing it on her knee so she could continue eating while simultaneously pouring more cereal into the bowl. The bat came out just in time to land on her spoon that was already on its way back to her mouth, but it was large enough to give her pause. The box was set to the side, the bowl raised to eye level for inspection. She picked up the bat gently, picking up a napkin and carefully wiping the milk off of it before setting it to the side with the box. As Alfred looked on with an eyebrow raised, she went back to eating her cereal.

Damian was the last person to ever deal with the bat in the cereal. For only one reason: when the bat came into his bowl of cereal, he set his spoon to the side, picked it up by its wing, and took a bite out of the opposite wing. Alfred came in just as he was chewing on it, and he had to stop. Damian swallowed his piece, holding up the rest of the bat in Alfred’s direction.

"It’s too gummy, you need to cook it more." Alfred gave a nod, taking the bat from him and taking it to the stove; he hadn’t had an occasion to cook a bat before.

After each of these, Alfred would fill two cups full of coffee, flavoring to the specifics of what had become natural for him to do. Both were carried carefully on a tray, through the now clean kitchen, into the hallway, through the secret door, and into the Batcave. 

"It would seem that you won’t be able to give anymore ‘tests’, Master Wayne," Alfred said as he set the tray down to the side of the large computer console that Bruce was already seated in front of. Carefully, he picked up one of the cups, handing it over carefully, and once it was safe in Bruce’s hands, he picked his up and took a sip. 

"It’s stood the test of time well," Bruce remarked. "But you should know by now, Alfred; the tests are never over." With that being said, he leaned over to the left, pulling open one of the many drawers, showing Alfred the multitude of petrified bats that were each in their own plastic, zip locked bag. He could only look at it in amusement, finally speaking as Bruce took a sip. 

"And the best things in life are steeped in tradition, Master Wayne," Alfred nodded sagely, picking up one of the bags. "I’ll take this back to the kitchen."

kaciart:

squidnipple:

deanialwinchester:

eastcollins:

JESUS

horrified cereal fan

grandma in russia kills wolf with bare hands and axe

First things first: Kaciart is amazing and you should all know that. But now I’m seeing the bat in the cereal as some kind of test all of the Robins need to go through. With a side of Cass as well.

Dick, unfortunately, had to go through it first, which must have been a terrible thing for a kid looking through his morning box of cereal, trying to find the prize that is always, always, hidden at the bottom. He might have even taken a bite of cereal already. But as we all know, you can never have just one bowl of delicious, sugary cereal. So he poured himself another, and just for a second, he thought it was his prize. But no. Not a prize. Instead, it was this thing in his cereal, of which he’d already taken a bite of. Alfred wasn’t too surprised when he saw Dick tearing out of the kitchen as fast as he could, one hand over his mouth as he rushed to the bathroom.

Jason was more angry then scared when he found it in his cereal one morning. He’d seen worse things in people’s cereal, how could a little bat be worse? At least it wasn’t a live bat. But it did ruin his appetite, and Alfred wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of breaking china. He simply went to the broom closet so he could get something to clean up the mess, and later he would bring fresh towels for him to wipe away the blood. Jason always did have interesting ways to take out his aggression.

Tim thought he could handle it. He’d already handled everything that Bruce had thrown at him, that the psuedo-Jason Hush had thrown at them, through people dying around him. This should have been a no-brainer; just a little, dead, petrified bat in his cereal. He didn’t even notice it at first, reading the health information on the side of the box, but the harsh black against golden flakes would catch anyone’s eye. They hadn’t put prizes into cereal boxes for years in Gotham, after Batman and Robin had brought the group responsible for high levels of lead paint and toxic plastic in the little toys to justice. Tim set the spoon down, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin as he got up from the table and left the kitchen. Alfred thought that would be it, but a few minutes later, the tell-tale sound of Tim’s sneakers could be heard going down the hallway, back into the kitchen. Alfred checked his watch, waiting exactly five minutes to the second, before going back into the kitchen. Tim was seated at the table, surgical mask on, as well as latex gloves, a microscope set up as he held the tiny bat by its wing with a pair of tweezers. When he looked up, it was like a deer caught in headlights; Alfred kept his smile in check, going to the cupboard and pulling out another box of cereal.

"Cheerios, Master Timothy?"

Cass may have never been a Robin, but she, like all the others, needed to go through this ritual. Some sort of test to show… no one knew anymore, not really. A rite of passage, like trying on the scaly panties, or dressing like the opposite gender while undercover. Cass was already quiet, and she didn’t mind Alfred being in the same room as her, him drinking a cup of coffee, her sitting on one of the counters with a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal. She picked up the bowl, then the box, balancing it on her knee so she could continue eating while simultaneously pouring more cereal into the bowl. The bat came out just in time to land on her spoon that was already on its way back to her mouth, but it was large enough to give her pause. The box was set to the side, the bowl raised to eye level for inspection. She picked up the bat gently, picking up a napkin and carefully wiping the milk off of it before setting it to the side with the box. As Alfred looked on with an eyebrow raised, she went back to eating her cereal.

Damian was the last person to ever deal with the bat in the cereal. For only one reason: when the bat came into his bowl of cereal, he set his spoon to the side, picked it up by its wing, and took a bite out of the opposite wing. Alfred came in just as he was chewing on it, and he had to stop. Damian swallowed his piece, holding up the rest of the bat in Alfred’s direction.

"It’s too gummy, you need to cook it more." Alfred gave a nod, taking the bat from him and taking it to the stove; he hadn’t had an occasion to cook a bat before.

After each of these, Alfred would fill two cups full of coffee, flavoring to the specifics of what had become natural for him to do. Both were carried carefully on a tray, through the now clean kitchen, into the hallway, through the secret door, and into the Batcave.

"It would seem that you won’t be able to give anymore ‘tests’, Master Wayne," Alfred said as he set the tray down to the side of the large computer console that Bruce was already seated in front of. Carefully, he picked up one of the cups, handing it over carefully, and once it was safe in Bruce’s hands, he picked his up and took a sip.

"It’s stood the test of time well," Bruce remarked. "But you should know by now, Alfred; the tests are never over." With that being said, he leaned over to the left, pulling open one of the many drawers, showing Alfred the multitude of petrified bats that were each in their own plastic, zip locked bag. He could only look at it in amusement, finally speaking as Bruce took a sip.

"And the best things in life are steeped in tradition, Master Wayne," Alfred nodded sagely, picking up one of the bags. "I’ll take this back to the kitchen."

I’m doing a project for my sociology class, and my prof. bet me a 10% increase this couldn’t get 10,000 reblogs over the weekend

whippetpuli:

teleologyentropy:

please help :o

This Soc. Major supports you, fellow Tumblrer!

headlikeanorange:

A budgerigar (Pavel Levchenko)


So, this bird needs to be a plurk emote.

headlikeanorange:

A budgerigar (Pavel Levchenko)

So, this bird needs to be a plurk emote.

kaciart:

aionyu:

Unternet + Tim + Kon = :D~
Made from this.

I appear to have left my brain in my other coat
uh….
I’ll just…
go get it…

kaciart:

aionyu:

Unternet + Tim + Kon = :D~

Made from this.

I appear to have left my brain in my other coat

uh….

I’ll just…

go get it…

The best one is the last one. So true.