WHAT ARE YALL READING RN you must tell me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Kiana Khansmith

blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
dirt enthusiast
todays bird
No title available

@theartofmadeline

oozey mess
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
DEAR READER
Peter Solarz
cherry valley forever

tannertan36
h

shark vs the universe
NASA
YOU ARE THE REASON

titsay
styofa doing anything

seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Finland

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Malaysia
seen from Luxembourg
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
@fuyunoakegata
WHAT ARE YALL READING RN you must tell me
As someone who was recently in Fukui, this isn't even scratching the surface of how mad the town is for dinosaurs.
For example, here is the outside of the train station:
If you thought that they were only outside the station, think again!
The last dinosaur has a crab, because the region is known for seafood.
You can even buy coffee emblazoned with dinosaurs!
And that's not even getting into how you get to the nearby Fukui Prefectural Dinosaur Museum. Behold, the Dino-Liner:
And if you're like, man I don't know how the museum will top all of these dinosaurs, boy do I have news for you.
And then you get to the cafe:
But, eventually, it was time to head back to the train station...on the dino bus.
roy "i don't think i know how not to forgive you" harper versus dick "i don't know how to let you forgive me" grayson
i posted this old as balls gifset ten years ago today
Happy anniversary old as balls gifset
@meme-conservation
We are pleased to note the continued survival of this meme to the point that it, too, is Old As Balls
it’s a shame more vampire media doesn’t pull from vampire bat behavior because they’re such sweeties. they can only survive their incredibly specialized diet because bats will share blood with colony members that didn’t find a meal! there’s evidence that suggests the donors sometimes initiate this behavior themselves by approaching hungry bats! the colonies are mostly harems of females with a few males but they’ve been observed letting unrelated males in when it gets cold so they can all stay warm! cute little social critters!
@yupekosi your tags have created such a beautiful world
dick always liked to peel pomegranates. sure, he loved eating them, staining his lips the slightest shade of red and laughing as jason tried a single seed for the first time with hesitance.
but dick always took a sort of special pleasure in splitting a pomegranate in half, then in fourths, peeling back the pith and plucking the seeds. he would run his nails through the bed, and as the seeds fell from the fruit into the palm of his hand, juice ran down his fingers, trickling over his arms like rivulets of flavour, like crimson contentment, like a fucking baptism.
dick used to be a rather angry person. that was what jason had learned, had committed to memory. he realized soon enough that his predecessor held little ill will towards him, the seed of anger due to everything robin being planted over with time. but he was furious at bruce, at alfred for not taking his side, at himself for not forcing bruce to listen to him. his bright, blinding smile could burn, his eyes could shatter ships in bottles.
yet those afternoons, those highlights of jason's month. those days when dick ruffled his hair like it was easy, like it wasn't costing him a piece of his willpower to do so, god those days were azure. dick took him to the library, to the zoo, to the ice-skating rink, in attempts to fathom out jason's interests. he failed to realize that jason's favourite afternoons were these, sharing a meal in dick's apartment, watching with idealistic rapture as dick peeled mangoes with his teeth and ate pomegranate seeds like candy.
jason was never any good at it. his fingers weren't as nimble as dick's, short and stubby with youth where dick's were long and limber, artist's hands, stained with fruit juice and markers and never, ever blood. (they both had callouses lining their fingers, rough and uneven and in almost the same places.) even now, jason grumbles in frustration as he accidentally rips off a chunk of the fruit with his over-large hands.
"you have to be gentle with it," dick says. dick himself had become so much more gentle, so much more tender since he'd left. dick as jason remembered him was a pounding jugular vein, an oil-painted explosion, a fucking storm amongst men. he'd tempered after jason's death. jason came back to a brother who never forgot what he did, never hesitating to draw his escrima and strike, never withholding his sharp tongue. never forgetful but,,,,,,willing. willing to shelve his reservations and talk through intel and eat fruit together, like the old days.
dick still peels pomegranates with the ease of a scarf in the wind. jason has to take care not to crush every seed he plucks. the juice runs down his fingers like damned blood, but it isn't like jason's hands aren't already stained red. it isn't like jason hasn't already been to hell, and it isn't like jason hasn't already come back.
he's back now, his anger flaring louder than dick's ever did. but he's sitting here, peeling pomegranates with his brother, eating the seeds without a single hint of fear because, despite all evidence to the contrary, jason is undoubtedly, unquestionably alive.
Shaggy's spidey sense went off at the mention of Bat Milk.
“You realize we’re practically the Gilmore Girls.”
“How do you figure?”
Sitting on the edge of a table in Cyborg’s once-pristine lab, Nightwing drew Batman’s cape tighter around his body. “Well, you took me in when I was eight and you were twenty-four. That means I was born when you were sixteen.”
“And that makes us the Gilmore Girls?” Bruce asked as his hands ran over the edge of the destroyed concrete and steel.
NIghtwing shrugged or as best he could with his banged-up arm. “It’s a TV show about a young mother from a rich family who had a kid at sixteen, runs away, and works her way up from being a maid at an inn.”
“I see the very few similarities. Hard work. Young parent.”
“The biggest difference really is that her front desk personnel is French Canadian, not British, so he doesn’t make questionably edible cucumber sandwiches.”
Batman let out a noise that could have been misconstrued as a laugh. “Don’t let Alfred hear you.”
“I mean, they’re not terrible, but I wouldn’t call them good.”
The conversation hit a lull then, allowing pain and exhaustion to find Nightwing again. The lab explosion – set off by Lex Luthor or Gorilla Grodd or whoever was now a part of the Secret Society of Super Villains – had trapped them in a collapsed pocket of the Watchtower. Nightwing couldn’t tell how long they’d been holed up, but it had been some time since he regained consciousness.
“Keep talking,” Batman demanded as he picked up his tablet and began to type.
NIghtwing rolled his eyes. “You know that’ll take up more oxygen, and we don’t know if we’re cut off from the watchtower’s tanks.”
“We are, but if you lose consciousness again, we’ll be in a worse predicament.”
Which was why Nightwing currently wore Batman’s cape, despite the fact that there could be people who didn’t know Batman’s identity right outside the wall of twisted metal and concrete.
Blood had already caked upon Nightwing’s forehead and cheek from a rogue piece of concrete that hit him. He pointedly ignored the limp arm that lay across his hip as his legs dangled over the edge of the lab table.
“You just had to invite me today, didn’t you?”
“Of course, I did,” Batman said as a matter of fact, not even looking up from his tablet. “Today’s our anniversary.”
“Our what!” NIghtwing let out a high-pitched laugh. “Bruce, last time I checked, you did not put a ring on it.”
“I put one on Selina.” Batman frowned at a particular reading on his tablet and tapped across the screen. “On this day, fifteen years ago, you ran the gauntlet and officially became my partner.”
NIghtwing ducked his head, though he knew it wouldn’t hide the sudden heat that rushed to his cheeks. “You remember that? You have literally forgotten my birthday five times, but you remember Batman and Robin’s anniversary.”
“Twice,” Bruce corrected.
“Twice what?”
“I’ve only forgotten your birthday twice.”
This, Nightwing knew well. “It’s definitely five times.” He lifted a finger for each point. “The latest one, the second one, my eleventh birthday, my fourteenth birthday cuz I wanted a quad and didn’t get it, and my twenty-first.”
Batman sighed, and even though Nightwing could read Batman’s face almost as well as Bruce’s, he found the distressed lines across Bruce’s forehead and the tightening of his jaw unnerving.
“When you were turning fourteen, there was no way I was buying you that death machine, and I didn’t want to see you disappointed. So I left Alfred to give you your consolation present, and Wally was throwing you a birthday party in Central City anyway. You didn’t need me there.
“When you turned twenty-one, you were celebrating most holidays with your friends, and I would have simply been the chaperone you no longer needed. So I gave Wally my credit card number and told him to charge everything to me.”
Why didn’t Wally tell him? “Bruce, I didn’t – ”
“And on your last birthday, I visited you, even brought you drinks at Bea’s. I would have given you a present if I thought you would have taken it.”
Dick thought back to his last birthday. As Ric, he didn’t even remember the day was special. He drove his cab for ten hours and then crashed at Bea’s bar in the evening, where a friendly guy named Matches struck up a conversation and – shit.
“You know what?” Nightwing motioned toward their quasi-cage. “I feel this whole situation is entrapment.”
Batman gave him a flat, exasperated glower. “You just had to say it, didn’t you?”
“I can’t let a good pun go.” Nightwing shrugged. “Any luck finding us a way out?”
“I have a contingency plan.”
“Awesome. Let’s do it.”
Batman looked absolutely pained. “I’d rather wait a few more minutes. Unless you are in need of immediate medical attention, I think I’d like to see if I come up with a different exit strategy.”
“Bruce.” It was not a whine but damn close to one. “We’ve been in here for hours.”
“Twenty-two minutes.”
“My arm is broken, and I probably have a concussion. I just want some painkillers and my bed. Whatever plan you have, do it already.”
“Hm.” Batman grumbled and then said in the lowest, most menacing growl possible, “Superman, help.”
The frustrated and annoyed look on Bruce’s face when Clark arrived was the best present Dick ever received.
before cooking an egg, do you poke a little hole into the shell?
no, why would I?
No. (I know the reason people do it but I don't do it.)
yes, obviously??
Yes (I don't really know why, though)
other/press button!/don't like eggs/vegan/slurp my eggs raw/vanilla extract/tags
Before I… crack them open?
....before you put them in here:
the water cup even comes with a little needle at the bottom for hole-poking purposes, see:
sorry i meant boil not cook
WHAT IS THAT
It's an egg cooker!
It's like a toaster and an electric kettle had a baby and ...the baby boils eggs.
#is this specifically a German thing#because Germans tend to have Opinions about eggs#also the only people I know who actually know how to use an egg cup are German#teach me your ways - I still don’t understand why you’d use an egg cup. and I can’t imagine boiling eggs not in a pot on the stove
no egg cup:
egg cup:
#why is the wobble an issue you pick them up one at a time shell then and eat them like not whole but just#you hold them and bite them and eat then till there's none left? why does this need extra tools
...at this point i'm sorry to introduce...the egg spoon.
Even better news about German egg related gadgets… the Eierköpfer (it also has a super long German name), for when you need a guillotine to open your egg neatly
No offence to Germany but why are you guys so fucking insane
nothing to see here. Just normal feelings about egg.
The guillotine device from a couple of reblogs above is der Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher
das Ei (pl. die Eier) = egg
die Schale = shell
sollen = to be supposed to
der Bruch = crack, fracture
die Stelle = site, place, location
die Bruchstelle = site of fracture
die Sollbruchstelle = predetermined breaking point
verursachen = to cause
-er =suffix to turn a verb into a noun (genus m)
der Verursacher = causative agent
der Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher = device to cause a predetermined breaking line around the perimeter at the top of a boiled egg so it can be opened neatly
Also: Eierwärmer, egg warmers to keep the eggs warm during a long Sunday breakfast. They are often handmade and knitted or crocheted in a decorative shape, but they can also be bought. Popular as a gift for Easter.
...I never considered that we might be the only ones doing this
wdym thats only grrman i dont believe this we are not the autistic egg country all yhat is NORMAL and NESSECARY and good brrakfast eggs are DIVINE
Extremely German egg eating
Batman: I have 800 costumes because I must be prepared for any eventuality
Wonder Woman: I have 1200 costumes because I’m 6,000 years old, I like a little variety, it’s important to dress for diplomacy, and Hephaestus doesn’t get much commission from anywhere else these days
Superman: I have one costume because my moms made it. No I will not get a new one and fuck you for suggesting it
I originally meant “Lara sent the fabric and Martha made the costume” but now I can’t stop thinking of a Superman AU where Jor sent his wife along with his son and Martha and Jonathan happened upon this Space MILF™️ and went “throuple?” so Clark Kent grew up with three parents
Have you seen the post about Bruce thinking Butler was the third parent? Because Bruce and Clark being pitying together is a brilliant image.
Diana: my mother-
Clark: singular?
Diana: I - yes.
Bruce, pitying: I bet you don't have a butler either.
Diana, confused:.... No?
Clark and Bruce: oh you poor thing.
Excuse you Diana Prince has 800 moms she was the only child on the entire island of Themyscira you honestly think they didn’t all take a hand in raising her
That's an extremely valid point and I cant believe I forgot that.
Revised version:
Diana: My mother-
Clark: singular?
Diana, louder: My mother number two hundred and twelve-
800 mothers and one combat aunt
“I call you robin because you came to us on the first day of spring”
Happy birthday Dick Grayson!
Happy birthday Dick Grayson! (21st of March)
I laugh, every single time :P
by http://bizarrocomics.com/
love it when an extremely high-functioning and put-together character gets slammed with something that would topple any lesser person but continues to function in an alarmingly efficient manner while everyone who knows and cares about them flutters anxiously around them like "please lie down please rest please accept medical attention" while the high-functioning character just looks askance at all their concerned faces like "what are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine" as tiny cracks start appearing in their demeanor and facade
just look at these fluffy motherfuckers. i want ten of them
Sofa sitting positions
I found it
This has to be like an ancient relic or something
I remember someone doing this with the Septic egos XD
Wait this is the original?