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        🔥 | Latest
    

    
    

        

        
        

            







    sharp: takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️
                
            

            
            
takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

                
            

            
            
cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the g...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.
                
            

            
            
ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: kottkrig:

They grow big in Kul Tiras.Been trying to hit that line between ‘armor that is actually practical’ and ‘heehee big sharp and pointy is cool’
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: kottkrig:

They grow big in Kul Tiras.Been trying to hit that line between ‘armor that is actually practical’ and ‘heehee big sharp and pointy is cool’
                
            

            
            
kottkrig:

They grow big in Kul Tiras.Been trying to hit that line between ‘armor that is actually practical’ and ‘heehee big sharp and p...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: stealin steve looking sharp
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: stealin steve looking sharp
                
            

            
            
stealin steve looking sharp

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: stealin steve looking sharp
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: stealin steve looking sharp
                
            

            
            
stealin steve looking sharp

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: ironwoman359:
cereusblue:

unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER



I love this

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: ironwoman359:
cereusblue:

unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER



I love this

                
            

            
            
ironwoman359:
cereusblue:

unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
Th...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: ask-art-student-prussia:

Shoutout to that quote “My manly tract of land has been seized and occupied by that demon douche Prussia” because Roderich will Not Swear, but he has a sharp tongue
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: ask-art-student-prussia:

Shoutout to that quote “My manly tract of land has been seized and occupied by that demon douche Prussia” because Roderich will Not Swear, but he has a sharp tongue
                
            

            
            
ask-art-student-prussia:

Shoutout to that quote “My manly tract of land has been seized and occupied by that demon douche Prussia” becau...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: did you know?
 When GiGi the horned owl sustained
 a near-fatal head injury, she was
 nursed back to health by Doug Pojeky
 at an animal rescue in Mississippi. He
 soon left town to visit family, but when
 he finally returned, she danced on his
 arm, put her head on his shoulder, and
 hugged him with her wings.
 PHOTO: FACEBOOK, WILD AT HEART RES CUE
 DIDYOUKNOWBLOG.COM
wingedpredators:
birds-and-pizza:

talons-mcbeak:

did-you-kno:

When GiGi the horned owl sustained 
a near-fatal head injury, she was 
nursed back to health by Doug Pojeky 
at an animal rescue in Mississippi.
When Doug was growing up, a great horned owl used to perch on the top of his family barn. His father saw the owl often, but he and the rest of his family rarely did. However, on the morning of his father’s death, the owl was spotted overlooking the farm house, where Pojeky’s father had passed away, before flying off into the woods.
“For some reason when that bird was hugging me, all I could think of was my dad.”
Source Source 2

no no no no no
this owl is not a happy owl
this owl is an injured, weak owl with a head injury
this owl is not displaying appropriate owl behaviors and is ill-equipped for life as a wild owl. this owl should be trying to escape and/or murder this man because that is just what owls do, especially great horned owls
apparently this owl got released which really alarmed me because either she made a miraculous recovery or she was completely not in any way ready for release and doesn’t have great chances of survival
believe me, i wish owls were all cuddly sweethearts who gave hugs and appreciated our care but that is so very much not reality. even the sweetest owl i know - who is the light of my life and a joy to work with - likes to murder stuff and will hiss and threaten you if he doesn’t trust you or wants you to gtfo. and when i say “sweetest owl” basically i just mean that he’s bonded to his two main trainers and is comfortable with us but if you ask anyone else he’s a grouchy old man with sharp talons. because he’s an owl. he’s not a snuggly pet. and he’s a 14-year-old captive-bred barn owl who has lived with humans and been an education bird his whole life, not a wild great horned owl who is clearly injured and having a shitty week of being grabbed and handled by giant mammals. this great horned owl is not a happy owl and it certainly isn’t feeling any sort of gratitude. mostly she’s too sick/injured to have enough energy to defend herself or hold her wings up or keep her eyes open.
when wild animals get released it’s nice to think that they are silently thanking us for saving them, but that’s what we don’t want. we want them to be ready for life in the wild, which means we want them to hate us and want to avoid humans forever, because that gives them the best chance of survival. the best thanks you can get from a rehabilitated wild animal is when they fly/run/swim the fuck away from you as soon as you open the cage and never look back. those are the successes.

I can preach what @talons-mcbeak said

This owl obviously is not aware of anything that is going on and is showing signs of a very very serious head injury (trust me, I’ve seen my fair share). You can see in the gif she attempted to bite him. She is just too weak and sick to be able to stop this person from manhandling her.

This man is not handling this bird right at all, and wild great horned owls are never friendly. 
That owl should not be put into those positions or used to promote such a disgusting lie by a man who obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing.

It is a wild animal not a domestic. Do not believe this bullshit story!


This!
This 100 times over!
UGH.
I keep seeing this owl picture and story passed around on Facebook, Tumblr, etc. with captions of ‘awwwww’ and ‘Cute!’ and so forth.
No.
It’s not ‘cute’. 
That owl is so unfit to be released and weak and probably in high states of stress. Anyone who knows the slightest thing about owl behaviour knows that this is not a ‘thankful’ or ‘happy animal’. Owls can’t even feel any love-related emotions to humans. Period.
Please share the truth about this story. The above two comments say a lot. :/
Shame on that ‘rehabber’ for passing on such false information and for treating that poor injured owl in such a way.

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: did you know?
 When GiGi the horned owl sustained
 a near-fatal head injury, she was
 nursed back to health by Doug Pojeky
 at an animal rescue in Mississippi. He
 soon left town to visit family, but when
 he finally returned, she danced on his
 arm, put her head on his shoulder, and
 hugged him with her wings.
 PHOTO: FACEBOOK, WILD AT HEART RES CUE
 DIDYOUKNOWBLOG.COM
wingedpredators:
birds-and-pizza:

talons-mcbeak:

did-you-kno:

When GiGi the horned owl sustained 
a near-fatal head injury, she was 
nursed back to health by Doug Pojeky 
at an animal rescue in Mississippi.
When Doug was growing up, a great horned owl used to perch on the top of his family barn. His father saw the owl often, but he and the rest of his family rarely did. However, on the morning of his father’s death, the owl was spotted overlooking the farm house, where Pojeky’s father had passed away, before flying off into the woods.
“For some reason when that bird was hugging me, all I could think of was my dad.”
Source Source 2

no no no no no
this owl is not a happy owl
this owl is an injured, weak owl with a head injury
this owl is not displaying appropriate owl behaviors and is ill-equipped for life as a wild owl. this owl should be trying to escape and/or murder this man because that is just what owls do, especially great horned owls
apparently this owl got released which really alarmed me because either she made a miraculous recovery or she was completely not in any way ready for release and doesn’t have great chances of survival
believe me, i wish owls were all cuddly sweethearts who gave hugs and appreciated our care but that is so very much not reality. even the sweetest owl i know - who is the light of my life and a joy to work with - likes to murder stuff and will hiss and threaten you if he doesn’t trust you or wants you to gtfo. and when i say “sweetest owl” basically i just mean that he’s bonded to his two main trainers and is comfortable with us but if you ask anyone else he’s a grouchy old man with sharp talons. because he’s an owl. he’s not a snuggly pet. and he’s a 14-year-old captive-bred barn owl who has lived with humans and been an education bird his whole life, not a wild great horned owl who is clearly injured and having a shitty week of being grabbed and handled by giant mammals. this great horned owl is not a happy owl and it certainly isn’t feeling any sort of gratitude. mostly she’s too sick/injured to have enough energy to defend herself or hold her wings up or keep her eyes open.
when wild animals get released it’s nice to think that they are silently thanking us for saving them, but that’s what we don’t want. we want them to be ready for life in the wild, which means we want them to hate us and want to avoid humans forever, because that gives them the best chance of survival. the best thanks you can get from a rehabilitated wild animal is when they fly/run/swim the fuck away from you as soon as you open the cage and never look back. those are the successes.

I can preach what @talons-mcbeak said

This owl obviously is not aware of anything that is going on and is showing signs of a very very serious head injury (trust me, I’ve seen my fair share). You can see in the gif she attempted to bite him. She is just too weak and sick to be able to stop this person from manhandling her.

This man is not handling this bird right at all, and wild great horned owls are never friendly. 
That owl should not be put into those positions or used to promote such a disgusting lie by a man who obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing.

It is a wild animal not a domestic. Do not believe this bullshit story!


This!
This 100 times over!
UGH.
I keep seeing this owl picture and story passed around on Facebook, Tumblr, etc. with captions of ‘awwwww’ and ‘Cute!’ and so forth.
No.
It’s not ‘cute’. 
That owl is so unfit to be released and weak and probably in high states of stress. Anyone who knows the slightest thing about owl behaviour knows that this is not a ‘thankful’ or ‘happy animal’. Owls can’t even feel any love-related emotions to humans. Period.
Please share the truth about this story. The above two comments say a lot. :/
Shame on that ‘rehabber’ for passing on such false information and for treating that poor injured owl in such a way.

                
            

            
            
wingedpredators:
birds-and-pizza:

talons-mcbeak:

did-you-kno:

When GiGi the horned owl sustained 
a near-fatal head injury, she was 
n...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: LEFTSKI- ART. TUMBLR. COM
leftski-art:

leftski-art:Too sharp, has trouble giving hugs
That’s the spirit!
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: LEFTSKI- ART. TUMBLR. COM
leftski-art:

leftski-art:Too sharp, has trouble giving hugs
That’s the spirit!
                
            

            
            
leftski-art:

leftski-art:Too sharp, has trouble giving hugs
That’s the spirit!

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: v-sharp:
SO, 10/25 HAPPENED. HOW ARE WE ALL FEELING??
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: v-sharp:
SO, 10/25 HAPPENED. HOW ARE WE ALL FEELING??
                
            

            
            
v-sharp:
SO, 10/25 HAPPENED. HOW ARE WE ALL FEELING??

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit 5h
 alwaysclimbing5
 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT.
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 Imean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging.. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.
siriuszstar:I’m scared
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit 5h
 alwaysclimbing5
 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT.
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 Imean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging.. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.
siriuszstar:I’m scared
                
            

            
            
siriuszstar:I’m scared

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit5h alwaysclimbing5 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 I mean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.
hollowfeathers:
catchymemes:
 Human vs Animals
“Walking is just a series of controlled falls” is actually pretty inspirational.

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit5h alwaysclimbing5 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 I mean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.
hollowfeathers:
catchymemes:
 Human vs Animals
“Walking is just a series of controlled falls” is actually pretty inspirational.

                
            

            
            
hollowfeathers:
catchymemes:
 Human vs Animals
“Walking is just a series of controlled falls” is actually pretty inspirational.


            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    sharp: laughhard
 More
 Web
 Videos
 Shopping
 Search tools
 Images
 News
 About 451,000 results (0.93 seconds)
 Showing results for i accidentally stepped on my dog's foot does
 he understand that it was an accident???? like i said sorry but
 mean does he know
 calleo
 Yes, if you react in a way similar to how another
 dog would react to accidentally harming a play
 mate or a pack mate.
 That's why, when dogs are playing (especially
 noticeable in puppies, as they're still learning
 bite inhibition), and one dog yelps loudly and
 sharply, like a dog does if you step on its paw
 or tail, if you react by immediately jumping
 back, not doing the thing again, and giving
 friendly, appeasing gestures (nice petting,
 scratching, chin scratching, etc...or if you were
 another dog, submissive gestures, muzzle
 licking, things that say 'nono sorry! I'm not a
 threat to you!") the dog does, in fact, realize
 that you weren't attacking or trying to be mean
 and that it was accidental.
 ear
 That's also why advice to puppy owners or
 owners trying to retrain a dog that was never
 taught to not bite during play are advised to
 yelp like a hurt dog if their puppy/dog gets too
 rough and immediately stop play and turn away,
 because that's a clear signal to the dog that
 they hurt you and you're upset now.
 Most dogs will immediately 'apologize' in dog
 language for that as, especially if it was during
 play, their intent wasn't to hurt anyone, just to
 have fun. They'll also tend to react that way if
 you yelp if they step on you. I know I've yelped
 at Bear a few times because his big 105lb ass is
 HEAVY and does not feel nice on a foot.
 plasticseeds
 Woah the reverse tactic Wow
 thefingerfuckingfemalefury
 glad that there
 is a way I can communicate an apology to a
 doggo if I accidentally step on their paw...
 because the only alternative would be exiling
 myself to the arctic to escape my shame
 This is SO IMPORTANT I am so
 luchadorgengar
 Can confirm this works btw, I used this info to
 train (ask) my dog to stop biting (she used to
 bite very hard with her very sharp teeth)
 
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: laughhard
 More
 Web
 Videos
 Shopping
 Search tools
 Images
 News
 About 451,000 results (0.93 seconds)
 Showing results for i accidentally stepped on my dog's foot does
 he understand that it was an accident???? like i said sorry but
 mean does he know
 calleo
 Yes, if you react in a way similar to how another
 dog would react to accidentally harming a play
 mate or a pack mate.
 That's why, when dogs are playing (especially
 noticeable in puppies, as they're still learning
 bite inhibition), and one dog yelps loudly and
 sharply, like a dog does if you step on its paw
 or tail, if you react by immediately jumping
 back, not doing the thing again, and giving
 friendly, appeasing gestures (nice petting,
 scratching, chin scratching, etc...or if you were
 another dog, submissive gestures, muzzle
 licking, things that say 'nono sorry! I'm not a
 threat to you!") the dog does, in fact, realize
 that you weren't attacking or trying to be mean
 and that it was accidental.
 ear
 That's also why advice to puppy owners or
 owners trying to retrain a dog that was never
 taught to not bite during play are advised to
 yelp like a hurt dog if their puppy/dog gets too
 rough and immediately stop play and turn away,
 because that's a clear signal to the dog that
 they hurt you and you're upset now.
 Most dogs will immediately 'apologize' in dog
 language for that as, especially if it was during
 play, their intent wasn't to hurt anyone, just to
 have fun. They'll also tend to react that way if
 you yelp if they step on you. I know I've yelped
 at Bear a few times because his big 105lb ass is
 HEAVY and does not feel nice on a foot.
 plasticseeds
 Woah the reverse tactic Wow
 thefingerfuckingfemalefury
 glad that there
 is a way I can communicate an apology to a
 doggo if I accidentally step on their paw...
 because the only alternative would be exiling
 myself to the arctic to escape my shame
 This is SO IMPORTANT I am so
 luchadorgengar
 Can confirm this works btw, I used this info to
 train (ask) my dog to stop biting (she used to
 bite very hard with her very sharp teeth)
 
                
            

            
            
 

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            







    sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit 5h
 alwaysclimbing5
 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT.
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 Imean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging.. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                sharp: What's a cool fact about the human body
 that a lot of people don't know?
 /r/AskReddit 5h
 alwaysclimbing5
 self.AskReddit
 Selftext
 348 (96%)
 446
 vault13rev 720 pts 5h (edit 4h)
 If we were an RPG character, our main stat would be
 endurance.
 We are, by animal standards, hellishly undying and unrelenting
 terrors, these Terminator-esque nightmares that just DO. NOT.
 STOP
 So ancestrally we are persistence hunters. That is, our main
 tactic for catching prey without fancy weapons was to just run
 them down, especially in our way-back home of the African
 desert. You can still see it, all over the human body.
 We are nearly hairless. This lack of insulation means better
 heat dissipation. We have a ton of sweat glands, next to
 other mammals. Again, heat dissipation. Another one is our
 two-legged gait - walking for us is technically just a series of
 controlled falls. We let gravity do half the work, and as a result
 use up fewer resources and generate less heat (quadrupeds,
 on the other hand, have to do more work with more legs).
 Imean, imagine being a more-or-less gazelle of half a million
 years ago. You're eating, doing your thing, when this predator
 arrives, so you run off. Now most predators, they'll only
 chase for a short distance and then call it a day (watch cats,
 for instance). But this one... here he is again. So you run. He
 returns. You run again. He returns. You're getting hot -you have
 to stop and pant to lose heat, but he just keeps jogging.. You
 run. He keeps coming. You're tired -you're fast, but not for very
 long, and this stretches your limits.
 Eventually you just lay there, exhausted and heat-stunned, and
 this ludicrous hairless monkey just jogs on over and kills you.
 That's our claws, our sharp teeth, even without our technology
 and tool-making. We simply don't stop.