#fucking donkey

[nerdofallkinds]

Gordon, not the self help coach we expected but the one we needed.

Also the Aussies claim him, he loves his mum and calls people cunt, perfect!

Me, after forgetting to cut the top off an onion before dicing it: “Aw dammit”

The Gordon Ramsey that lives in my head: “Don’t worry there, this mistake isn’t going to ruin anything. No need to be too hard on yourself”

Me: “Wow, that’s…not what I was expecting”

Gordon: “Of course, you ought to know by now that I don’t shout at cooks just to do so. I do it because the people in hit television show Kitchen Nightmares are putting their services out into the public and claim to be good enough to have the title of head chef. You’re just some guy in your twenties making beef stroganoff for yourself and your roommate. I’m kind of a dick, yeah, but I’m not gonna scream at you for a minor mistake like this”

Me: “Oh….well…thanks”

Gordon: “You’re welcome…cunt…”

[fmayyy]

A little bug and the ultimate bad boy!

[paunchsalazar]

Castiel bringing Dean back from Hell vs. bringing back Sam

[itstimetodrew]

I love seeing characters make the wrong choice. Like logically, morally, whatever. It should be so easy, so obvious, to do something right for once! But they don’t see it or they don’t care. Their instincts always lead them to choose poorly. Bad for them but great for me because it’s so interesting and I like to watch the suffering. ^_^

[lefthandarm-man]

Bucky Barnes // The Winter Soldier Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[suzuki-ecstar]

the little nose scrunch that fernando does whenever he admits he fucked up

[signanothername]

Earthspark wouldn’t dare include him cause he’s SO dad shaped he’ll outdad every dad in the show

Anyway I NEED RUNG TO MEET THE TERRANS PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ-

It’s very very unlikely but a girl can dream

I’m hoping beyond hope to see Rung in any way shape or form, be it mentioned or shown in a flashback or something PLEASE

[hallowshumour]

First rate town.

🌊❌️🟦🏭

[ef-1]

If I think about the double standard and the disparity with which the media handled Daniel in comparison to everyone else I may lose my mind.

[my-name-is-apollo]

Hermes convincing Apollo and Poseidon to stop fighting each other:

"You then yield to your elder, the ruler of the sea; do this grace to your father's brother, because Earthshaker the ruler of the brine honours your seagirt Delos: cease not to love your palmtree, to remember your olive.

And Earthshaker, what second Cecrops will be judge here? What second Inachos ' has awarded her city to Hera that you take arms against Apollo as well as Athena, and seek a second quarrel after your quarrel with Hera?" (Dionysiaca, Book 36. Trans. William Henry Denham Rouse )

The way he gently convinced Apollo by reminding him of the bond between him and Poseidon, and then turned to Poseidon like "wtf is your problem???" 😭😂

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type Au part 2!

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9

i didn’t expect so many people to like this so this is a little addition written stream of consciousness style :)

Weeks have passed and the troops have marched on. Ghost is not very liked amongst his fellow soldiers, most viewing him as something less than human. If they notice the drastic uptick in him sneaking away, they say nothing. Whether it is out of respect, fear, or apathy does not matter.

When they stop somewhere, even if for just a night or two, he always searches the area for overgrown shrines belonging to the god. Now that he is actively seeking them out, he realizes that they’re everywhere.

Damn near every notable landscape was a ruin of what was once a commemoration for the god. Clearings in trees with stone circles on the ground, shallow caves with a pedestal holding forgotten gifts, eye-catching rocks that turned into statues when you paid attention — all for a deity that was now on the brink of death.

On the rare occasion he is unable to find one, he creates one. It was never really anything more than a pile of rocks, but the offerings were still accepted so he took it as a sign of approval. Before, he always ate his meals on the edge of camp, as far away from everyone as he could get while still being in camp. But then he remembered that he didn’t give a shit and would wander further into the woods before sitting down to eat.

Now, it was the same routine but a little less alone. To call some old ass god a friend was a stretch, especially since half of the time it felt more like trying to feed a skittish stray dog, but he enjoyed the time spent “together”. He decided not to think about whether that was an exploitable weakness or if he was going soft and instead tried to enjoy his newfound respite.

Of course, nothing stays happy forever.

When the battle they had been marched towards finally came, Ghost was put on the frontlines, as per usual. This time he felt Different but chalked it up to nerves with feeling like he might have something to lose now.

That morning, he hadn’t received breakfast so the only offering he had been able to provide was a few flowers that were in the area. He felt beyond stupid while picking them, but when they were laid down, the god hadn’t even waited for him to turn away to be able to dramatically accept the offering. They were accepted immediately, with a strong breeze rustling the branches and such an intense feeling flooding through him he’d had to take a step back.

The forgotten god of death likes flowers, apparently.

Within a few hours, he went from wondering if he would now be upgrading his food offerings to include a garnish of whatever flowers he found in the area, to wondering if that would be the last offering the god would ever receive.

The arrow had nestled between plates of his armor, striking him in the lower ribs. He was dying far too slowly for it to have hit anything vital, but he was still dying. He was an okay field medic, but it was that very knowledge that meant he knew he was doomed.

Being nothing more than a weapon, he was not allowed to see the healers the same way everyone else was. As the battle finished with their side unfortunately victorious, he wondered if the general even realized he could be fatally wounded.

The smoke cleared, the injured men were hurried to the medical tents, the general began planning their next attack, and Ghost lay there, dying and forgotten in an open field. He had been looking forward to this moment for so long, but now that he was here, he wondered who would give his god offerings tomorrow. Realizing that in dying, he would be taking the god with him made him feel almost remorseful.

But the darkness was creeping in on his vision and his woes seemed to fall away as did the rest of the world. Perhaps he would be seeing the god soon.

————

He did not expect to wake up, and yet he was staring at the canopy of leaves above him and wondering why Hell looked so nice. When the pounding in his head went away, he sat up slowly, first rolling onto his side and reeling from the pain. When he was able to push himself up into a seated position, he realized that Hell not only looked lovely, but incredibly familiar as well.

Once his vision stopped swirling, he saw that he wasn’t in the afterlife at all, but instead had been lying on the offering table he had just left flowers on that morning. Still barely comprehending what was going on, he scrambled off the shrine. Just because he’d challenge a god to a fistfight doesn’t mean he’s entirely stupid. He still remembers stories that the elders would use to scare him and the other kids — about how anything on the offering table was an offering that could be taken.

He wasn’t interested in becoming a human sacrifice just yet so he fell to the grass and tried to remember what happened. The pain made everything muddied, but he knew for certain he was supposed to be dead. The shrine he had woken on gave some indication of what must’ve happened, though the why of it all was still a mystery.

Would the god of death betray his own domain just for the sake of keeping him alive?

Lifting his shirt and finding a golden scar on what should have been a fatal injury, he found out that yes, yes they would. The pain made it take a good few minutes to stand and he distantly wondered how much power the god had. He’d heard of deities saving their favorite (and in this case, only) follower from the brink of death, but never heard mention of the pain.

He deduced that the god must still be too weak to have done such magic fuckery without repercussions and that the full-body agony must be at least one of those repercussions. As he sat pondering the power level of the being, he went to run his hand through his hair but stopped, feeling something that wasn’t there before.

A flower, tucked behind his ear. One he picked that morning.

The god of death saved him and put a dandelion behind his ear.

————

It wasn't until the next night that he was able to visit the shrine. As expected, he was yelled at for disappearing for several hours but he was too out of it to really hear any of what was being said. The pain would come and go at seemingly random and each spike that made his steps stutter was another reminder of just how close he had been to death.

Waylaid by his duties and own requirements of rest, he finally snuck out with the little dinner he had been given. Part of him was a lot more scared than he’d like to admit, having no idea what the god would want in return for the miracle they’d performed. He really did not want to be indebted to yet another person, much less a god.

It took him much longer than usual to make it to the shrine, slowed by pain and exhaustion. It was pitch black by the time he got there but the area around the pedestal had a slight glow.

He set down his offerings and really hoped it was enough to not incur the wrath of an angry god that felt like they were owed more than they received. His dinner — consisting of a bread roll and salted meat, a true feast — along with some jewelry he was able to pilfer and more flowers was far from what any god would expect in return for such a miracle, but it was all he had to offer.

He took a stuttering step back and bowed his head. He may be a prideful bastard but he’d consider the day a victory if he lived long enough to feel embarrassed. His fingers tingled, the leaves rustled, and he opened his eyes to find— Oh. Hmmm.

The flowers and jewelry were gone, but the plate had more food on it.

Well, that’s… something. He looked up at the sky, wondering if the god was watching him. After some hesitation, he verbalized his question, asking if this meant the offering was rejected.

There was no answer. When he looked back down, the plate had been moved closer towards him. Okay, what the fuck? The food looked kind of shitty, honestly, but looking closer he realized that’s because it was his offerings that he had given.

Still not quite grasping the situation, he slowly grabbed the plate, waiting to see if he’d be struck by lightning. However, no murderous rain clouds spontaneously appeared as it left the altar. He examined the plate. The food was stacked rather precariously; there wasn’t much of it but the randomness of the items ensured it was on the brink of falling.

Was this meant to be a gift? For him? Why would a god continue to give more and more while receiving almost nothing in return?

He took a moment to sit down, definitely out of caution and not pain, trying to figure out if this was what the deity wanted him to do. Tentatively, he grabbed a piece of bread and slowly began eating. He was slowed by the shake in his hands and for once was right in saying it wasn’t from nerves. The shakiness had been persisting ever since he woke up but had gotten better over time. Before, he hadn’t been able to even pick up small items without struggle. It all seemed a small price to pay considering he should’ve died in that field.

As he ate, he stared up at the altar and wondered how a god whose favorite offerings were flowers had gotten such an awful reputation. Lost in thought, he was pulled back to the present as the apple almost rolled off the plate. He caught it, moving to set it in his lap instead, but noticed something that made him freeze.

Someone was there.

He felt it, both the eyes watching him and the domineering presence that had taken up the area. He carefully continued his movements while looking around, alarmed to see nothing there. He took stock of his surroundings, trying to discern what he was sensing. It seemed the god was no longer simply watching him from the heavens.

Not expecting an answer, he asked aloud if the god wanted some of the food, resolutely staring at his plate. He was unused to feeling a divine being near him. It was unsettling.

No.

The answer seemed to materialize from nothing. He hadn’t heard it, hadn’t read it, it didn’t even feel like it had been some kind of psychic fuckery. It just was. Man, gods were weird.

Pushing the limit, he asked if they had a favorite flower.

Whichever you give me.

And then the presence was gone. He was back to eating alone in a clearing. What the fuck does that mean? The weird godly way of talking didn’t provide much in the way of tone. Was it happy? Flirty? Apathetic? Annoyed?

He shook his head and resumed eating. It didn’t matter. Tomorrow would be an even longer day as they pack up and march on.

He needs to get his god more flowers.

[hoofpeet]

Thinking about some nanny sort of character for Ginger+Bunny but torn between what kind of hybrid to make her.. Donkeys transport lambs up and down mountainsides when the herd switch pastures & llamas can act as guard dogs to protect sheep herds, so both are a good fit...

[adh-d2]

Mandalorian culture is built on two principles:

Any child is a potential Foundling. It doesnt matter where they come from, what they look like, or who they are. Every Foundling is a True Mandalorian.

Any adult Mandalorian who is different from you in the slightest imperceptible way is not a True Mandalorian.

[homefryboy]

squad goes flying

sandy: lands perfectly

spongebob: gets caught by sandy

patrick: eats shit

yup it's all good in the hood

[cupiidzbow]

i wanted to draw kalypso again!! 🐊💜 ( also live candy reaction )

[cicerfics]

Listen, I see Bond as a person who is deeply, fundamentally, self-sacrificially loyal to everyone at MI6 who is loyal to MI6. If they are loyal to the organization, Bond is loyal to them! He will kill and die for them! He will place himself between his colleagues and dangerous individuals! He is very livestock-guardian-coded!

It's just...his enthusiasm for this task varies based on the individual in question. For some (Mansfield!M and Q), he is only too happy to kill and die for them. He is vibrating with the desire to eliminate all threats to their person, and looking for opportunities to fling himself into danger on their behalf.

But for certain other people, like Skyfall/SPECTRE-era Mallory*, Bond's attitude is more like, "...I will kill and die for you, but I won't be happy about it. 😒 It's rotten work. Especially to me. Especially if it's you. I'll do it, but Jesus Christ."

All this is to say, I really want a fic where Mallory has been abducted and Bond (very effectively and efficiently) rescues him, while make it clear the whole time that he views this as a tremendous imposition. Like, he's going to do an absolutely A+ job of rescuing his boss, but he's going to complain about it the whole time.

He's going to sigh so heavily as he cuts through Mallory's bindings and removes his gag. He's going to shake his head so condescendingly as he takes down the baddie standing guard so he can secure Mallory's escape route. He will be bringing this up during every argument he and Mallory have in the future, and he's already making that clear.

Does this fic exist already? Someone please throw me a link if it does.

*As per usual, I am choosing to ignore what NTTD did to Mallory's character