#Waggis

[m-r-moth]

was listening to some guggemusik the other day.. so here are some fasnacht waggis

there will be like 2.5 people knowing what this is- so essentially- swiss carnival costumes, very creepy, very fun, and playing very loud music.

this is my absolutely favourite feast,, maybe i’ll try my hand on making a mask myself

[markgraeflerin]

Wochenrückblick - Mählsubbe, Chäswaie, Räppli, Waggis, Mohrekopf und Cortège

#BaslerFasnacht #Cortege #Fotografie #Mehlsuppe #Chäswaie

[larvenatelierbasel]

Eine klassische Waggislarve mit roter Nase und gelber Perücke. Hier eine Aufnahme aus den Räumen des Larven Atelier Charivari in Basel.

[hattiestgal]

Heavy Loaf Comin' Through!

Happy Sa-taur-day folks! Courtesy of the loaf librarian herself, Phoebe! Careful not to get in her way while she's working, otherwise it's gonna be a looooong process of gettin' you out from all that… fluff. Just fluff, ehehe

[garmmy]

ultra self-indulgent keaton/azura family scribbles

[tinpot64]

im definitely gonna do smaller comics for now after this took so long...

[vexinglyvolatile]

ace attorney memes i made part 12: TGAA edition 3: oops! all herlock sholmes

self explanatory. i love this stupid little man so much and he is so incredibly memeable. <3

link to meme catalogue

[canisalbus]

do their tails wag when they're happy to see each other?

Of course! It'd be such a waste to have dog people with perfectly good tails and not have them reflect their emotions.

The way I see it, tail wagging is a lot like smiling or laughing, it's innate to the species, even babies know how to do it and it's meaning is the same across cultures. When it's genuine it happens instinctually, but if you really need to, you can try to force or supress it. Whether or not it's proper etiquette to wag your tail depends on the situation, it's a normal part of socialization between friends for example, but on formal surroundings you're expected to show modesty and have enough restraint to control your emotions.

[simplykorra]

actual puppy

[ilovelawrencee]

poppy

[bardkin]

oh to lovingly hold your partner's arm with your teeth <3

[jngswheein]

230617 mycon encore - soul

[larvenatelierbasel]

Waggis Larven / Waggislarven aus dem Larven Atelier Charivari in Basel.

[sidetongue]

There are so many people in my day to day life who see dogs as just pets. So many people who don’t understand how much I’m struggling with Miller’s condition. Even people in my own workplace are surprised by how “hard” I’m taking it. The reality is these people go home to a partner or family of an evening, I go home to my dogs. That sounds really miserable and antisocial - but I’m an independent person and I’ve bought my own home and set up my own life and I’ve done it all by myself… except for the little pack of supporters who’ve been there through it all. Miller has been through it all.

Miller knew me when I was 18 and living with my grandparents; still a kid and having no idea about being an adult. Miller knew me when I went through my first break up, and she stuck around through the heartache. Miller knew me when I first ventured out into the big wide world; renting a “big girl house” with a friend and having a stable income and working towards my dreams. Miller knew me through my second break up, where I fled the country and went on a journey to “heal myself” and left her (and Henry) with my grandparents. She didn’t mind. She enjoyed the extra snacks. Miller knew me when I bought my first home, alone, and was right there beside me throughout.

She’s known me through my entire adult life. But I’ve known Miller through the day when she first came home… carsick on the passenger’s seat with only petrol station toilet paper to clean it up. I’ve known Miller through her “drug overdose” where she decided to snack on a pack of ibuprofen (again, with Henry). I’ve known Miller through horrific and uncontrollable ear infections. Where I thought the kindest thing was to let her go. Where I saw her in chronic, severe pain and several ear surgeries and procedures. I’ve known miller through her, um, “back end” problems, and having to remove stitches from her actual butthole. I’ve known Miller through her mellow years, where her only crimes are barking at a yellow lab on the beach or greeting our guests with a loud and persistent voice.

Today someone came to my house and there was no loud voice to greet them. She’s in a vet clinic cage, yellow as a highlighter, trying her hardest to stay alive. She’s 8 years old and has lived a life rich with joy and adventure, but my god I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. She’s not grey, she’s not creaky, she’s still got so much life in her. So many more rivers to swim in and songs to dance to and yellow labs to bark at. Every waking moment is spent agonising over my special little blue dog.

We don’t see leptospirosis where I am located. It’s very rare, and my vets have little experience with it. Today we contacted other hospitals in places were it is more prevalent so we can get a better idea of what we’re dealing with. It can take 7-14 days to see a turnaround. Miller is on day 4. I don’t know how I will afford 14 days of intensive care. I don’t even know how to think about money right now. I don’t know when the right time is to call it; to let her rest, or whether she wants me to keep fighting for her. Every minute is a nightmare and I miss my best girl.

[tinpot64]

one must imagine WIP comic thingy stuff something

[johnandrasjaqobis]

past 1am, post an unconnected and incomplete chunk of sorta-durgetash (post lobotomy and subsequent coronation reunion) because i'm in the trenches and just thrilled i'm writing literally anything at all

“That blade you have,” Gortash said, sitting forward and waving a hand toward it, “would you mind if I took a closer look?”

Joseph raised an eyebrow, pushing past the way that suggestion sent his blood roiling for a moment. “A little, yes.”

That got a light scoff. “Please, we both know you're no less dangerous without it. And as I've said, it would be counterproductive to go to all this trouble only to try and kill you now.”

It seemed like a decent point. The hesitation was still heavy before Joseph relented and pulled the dagger from his belt.

He hadn't really looked at himself since that vision had taken him down at the bridge, but the symbol of Bhaal was now all the more poignant as its empty eye sockets stared up at him. That much made a hell of a lot more sense now, at least.

It also sent a quick shiver down his spine that he didn't have time to fully identify the source of before Gortash was taking the blade carefully from his hand.

“Not even a scratch,” Gortash murmured, seemingly to himself as he turned it over. “I suppose the enchantments would have helped – where did you say you found it?”

There was a memory nagging at the corner of his mind, and Joseph ignored how it was beginning to bring on a headache. “I didn't.”

Gortash glanced up with the start of a smirk. “Didn't say, or didn't find it?”

“Fucking smartass.”

It was instinctive, somehow, and Joseph barely managed not to flinch as soon as he processed the words himself. Gortash just grinned.

“Is that any way to speak to an archduke?”

“Maybe not a legitimate one.”

That got a short bark of a laugh, and that –

Damnit, godsdamnit, he liked this guy.

“It was under the temple in Rivington,” Joseph said, trying to ignore practically everything else, “buried. I imagine because it had been used to murder the head priest.”

Gortash considered that a moment before giving a derisive scoff. “If Orin is disorganized and impulsive, her people are even worse. Whatever the case,” he flipped the blade around to hold it out hilt first, “I am glad to see it found its way home.”

Joseph found himself hesitating again; his hand closed around the hilt but he didn't pull it back at first. He remembered something about this, something about the knife and the man holding it out to him, and maybe it was the fact that he had more than half a second to consider all of that, but it abruptly snapped into place in a way very few memories had so far.

“You made this,” he said, more of a statement than a question. “You…gave this to me.”

He couldn't read the expression that flashed over Gortash’s face, and the single nod seemed as even and unperturbed as any other so far.

“I did. Bhaal may have his own holy relics, but it never hurts to have extra. Or an upgrade.” The next grin was a little sharper. “You wore both, but seemed to prefer this one.”

“Which did absolutely nothing for your ego, I'm sure.”

“What can I say – an artist appreciates his work being appreciated.”