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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 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...

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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 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...

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5slicesofpepperonipizza: shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winning paper on this topic! Here’s some knowledge I’d like to share: There’s actually been studies as to why it’s usually white kids, a large conclusion amongst the criminology community is that those that often have more privileged lives (white kids in our society’s case) are less adept to dealing with stress and denial. Whereas minorities and others are more likely to cope and function normally despite stressors because of the constant stressors that come from systematic racism and/or other platforms of more limited priviledge. TL;DR: It’s usually a white kid because their privilege incacipated their ability to learn how to handle stress/ denial/ whatever without acting out. The less privileged are done used to the bs and thus typically dont turn to extreme measures as coping mechanisms. EDIT: I had reblogged this and added a link to the paper (which I should’ve done to begin with,) but it’s probably best I just edit my original reblog and add the link (which I also should’ve just done already.) Anyway, it can be found fully sourced here. 👀👀👀👀 I like tea spilled with sources and data. : 5slicesofpepperonipizza: shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winning paper on this topic! Here’s some knowledge I’d like to share: There’s actually been studies as to why it’s usually white kids, a large conclusion amongst the criminology community is that those that often have more privileged lives (white kids in our society’s case) are less adept to dealing with stress and denial. Whereas minorities and others are more likely to cope and function normally despite stressors because of the constant stressors that come from systematic racism and/or other platforms of more limited priviledge. TL;DR: It’s usually a white kid because their privilege incacipated their ability to learn how to handle stress/ denial/ whatever without acting out. The less privileged are done used to the bs and thus typically dont turn to extreme measures as coping mechanisms. EDIT: I had reblogged this and added a link to the paper (which I should’ve done to begin with,) but it’s probably best I just edit my original reblog and add the link (which I also should’ve just done already.) Anyway, it can be found fully sourced here. 👀👀👀👀 I like tea spilled with sources and data.

5slicesofpepperonipizza: shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winnin...

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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: 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...

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earthsong9405: All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too much but I gave her a slightly different hairstyle, some tusks (as is natural for Gerudo in my headcanon), and a brand new outfit! She has such lovely colors to work with, I love her so much ;-;But I’m sure ya don’t wanna hear me babble about how enjoyable her design is. So, let’s go straight into the headcanon! <:————————--Urbosa is the current chief of the Gerudo and serves as the acting Champion for them as well. As a Champion in this timeline, she holds a key component in gaining access to Old Hyrule-”Champion” in this timeline doesn’t fully hold the same function as it once did in BotW. Instead of being chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts, a Champion are a handful of chosen warriors that serve as Hyrule’s best line of defense against any threat. Despite every group of peoples having their own form of governing, culture, and way of life, all of them are still united under the banner of Hyrule, and the Champions could be the physical representation of this tight alliance. A Champion may not necessarily have a lot of political power by themselves but what they represent and what they stand for still puts them in a high position in social status and therefore their word often holds significant weight. As not only the chief of Gerudo but also their Champion, Urbosa is in a position of having more power than what would typically be seen for a Chief. Thankfully though, she doesn’t abuse it and leads her people well: there’s a reason she’s so well respected and loved among not only the Gerudo, but across Hyrule as well.-As one of the original Champions, Urbosa retains many of her memories from her past life, including what ultimately led to her death-I’ve always liked the idea of Urbosa being a motherly figure to just about anyone she meets, but that also includes being an actual mother! Her kid in this headcanon is Riju <:-While Urbosa isn’t actually related to Ganondorf, he refers to her as his “aunt”. Of all the Gerudo in his life, Urbosa was a consistent presence, often visiting him and his parents at their secluded home in the middle of Korok Forest. She’d bring stories of adventure and gifts and even helped train him to be a skilled warrior, but as much as she loves the boy her visits held an alternative motive.-As a whole, no one really knows of Ganondorf’s past as being the vessel for the Demon King, but if anyone would have any idea about it it’d certainly be the Sheikah and the Gerudo. As per tradition in their culture, a newborn Gerudo must be brought forth to a shaman for examination to ensure their health and to fully proclaim their citizenship as a new member of the tribe. When Ganondorf was examined, the first thing the shaman noticed was the peculiar mark upon his chest: a birthmark in the shape of the wound that struck Demise down all those thousands of years ago. In seeing the mark the shaman took the baby away from his mother and brought it to the council and Urbosa to discuss what to do with it.The Gerudo are intimately familiar with the history surrounding the Demon King and how he stole one of their own, so the mark was very telling of what the child once was. And given the long stretch of peace Hyrule was experiencing it understandably buzzed some fear among the elder council. Many were afraid his birth meant an end to that peace, that the Demon King had somehow reincarnated once more and meant to bring hell back to Hyrule.So in response to all of this, the elders argued amongst each other about a solution. Many ruled the boy too dangerous to allow him to grow older and demanded he be… dealt with. Others deemed that too cruel, even for a damned child, and suggested they simply leave him somewhere far away: let nature decide if he lives or dies. But, as chief and Gerudo Champion of Hyrule, it ultimately came down to Urbosa’s choice. She held the babe her council hissed demon, stared at the birthmark that marked him as a vessel, heard the pleading sobs of the boy’s mother over the whispers of “we’ll make it quick, but we mustn’t let him live”, “he is dangerous, he will bring doom to us all” “end it now while he is weak”.Stared at the supposed demon child, who simply yawned in her grasp and blinked up at her with innocent, yellow eyes. She met the Demon King once: she had stared into that monster’s eyes while she fought it to her death in her past lifetime. She knows soulless eyes when she sees them… and this baby didn’t have those eyes.So Urbosa made her decision: the boy will not die. It was largely met with disbelief and anger: you will doom us all! they said. Despite Urbosa staying firm in her decision, it took her days of arguing with the council and the aid of a Sheikah Seer (who examined the child themselves and confirmed that he didn’t house the Demon King) to finally reach a compromise: the boy will live, but he can’t live among the Gerudo. He had to live with his mother in exile, and his growth had to be monitored as a precaution. The monitoring came in the form of Urbosa’s frequent visits.-Urbosa is close friends with Zelda’s parents and is also something of an “aunt” figure to Zelda as well; Zelda absolutely adores Urbosa and even sees her as more of a secondary mother figure than anything.————————————Aaaaaaaaand that’s all I have for Urbosa for now! If I think of anything else I’ll be sure to add more, and of course if ya have questions you’re more than free to ask them. <: Otherwise I hope you enjoy! ^.^: earthsong9405: All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too much but I gave her a slightly different hairstyle, some tusks (as is natural for Gerudo in my headcanon), and a brand new outfit! She has such lovely colors to work with, I love her so much ;-;But I’m sure ya don’t wanna hear me babble about how enjoyable her design is. So, let’s go straight into the headcanon! <:————————--Urbosa is the current chief of the Gerudo and serves as the acting Champion for them as well. As a Champion in this timeline, she holds a key component in gaining access to Old Hyrule-”Champion” in this timeline doesn’t fully hold the same function as it once did in BotW. Instead of being chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts, a Champion are a handful of chosen warriors that serve as Hyrule’s best line of defense against any threat. Despite every group of peoples having their own form of governing, culture, and way of life, all of them are still united under the banner of Hyrule, and the Champions could be the physical representation of this tight alliance. A Champion may not necessarily have a lot of political power by themselves but what they represent and what they stand for still puts them in a high position in social status and therefore their word often holds significant weight. As not only the chief of Gerudo but also their Champion, Urbosa is in a position of having more power than what would typically be seen for a Chief. Thankfully though, she doesn’t abuse it and leads her people well: there’s a reason she’s so well respected and loved among not only the Gerudo, but across Hyrule as well.-As one of the original Champions, Urbosa retains many of her memories from her past life, including what ultimately led to her death-I’ve always liked the idea of Urbosa being a motherly figure to just about anyone she meets, but that also includes being an actual mother! Her kid in this headcanon is Riju <:-While Urbosa isn’t actually related to Ganondorf, he refers to her as his “aunt”. Of all the Gerudo in his life, Urbosa was a consistent presence, often visiting him and his parents at their secluded home in the middle of Korok Forest. She’d bring stories of adventure and gifts and even helped train him to be a skilled warrior, but as much as she loves the boy her visits held an alternative motive.-As a whole, no one really knows of Ganondorf’s past as being the vessel for the Demon King, but if anyone would have any idea about it it’d certainly be the Sheikah and the Gerudo. As per tradition in their culture, a newborn Gerudo must be brought forth to a shaman for examination to ensure their health and to fully proclaim their citizenship as a new member of the tribe. When Ganondorf was examined, the first thing the shaman noticed was the peculiar mark upon his chest: a birthmark in the shape of the wound that struck Demise down all those thousands of years ago. In seeing the mark the shaman took the baby away from his mother and brought it to the council and Urbosa to discuss what to do with it.The Gerudo are intimately familiar with the history surrounding the Demon King and how he stole one of their own, so the mark was very telling of what the child once was. And given the long stretch of peace Hyrule was experiencing it understandably buzzed some fear among the elder council. Many were afraid his birth meant an end to that peace, that the Demon King had somehow reincarnated once more and meant to bring hell back to Hyrule.So in response to all of this, the elders argued amongst each other about a solution. Many ruled the boy too dangerous to allow him to grow older and demanded he be… dealt with. Others deemed that too cruel, even for a damned child, and suggested they simply leave him somewhere far away: let nature decide if he lives or dies. But, as chief and Gerudo Champion of Hyrule, it ultimately came down to Urbosa’s choice. She held the babe her council hissed demon, stared at the birthmark that marked him as a vessel, heard the pleading sobs of the boy’s mother over the whispers of “we’ll make it quick, but we mustn’t let him live”, “he is dangerous, he will bring doom to us all” “end it now while he is weak”.Stared at the supposed demon child, who simply yawned in her grasp and blinked up at her with innocent, yellow eyes. She met the Demon King once: she had stared into that monster’s eyes while she fought it to her death in her past lifetime. She knows soulless eyes when she sees them… and this baby didn’t have those eyes.So Urbosa made her decision: the boy will not die. It was largely met with disbelief and anger: you will doom us all! they said. Despite Urbosa staying firm in her decision, it took her days of arguing with the council and the aid of a Sheikah Seer (who examined the child themselves and confirmed that he didn’t house the Demon King) to finally reach a compromise: the boy will live, but he can’t live among the Gerudo. He had to live with his mother in exile, and his growth had to be monitored as a precaution. The monitoring came in the form of Urbosa’s frequent visits.-Urbosa is close friends with Zelda’s parents and is also something of an “aunt” figure to Zelda as well; Zelda absolutely adores Urbosa and even sees her as more of a secondary mother figure than anything.————————————Aaaaaaaaand that’s all I have for Urbosa for now! If I think of anything else I’ll be sure to add more, and of course if ya have questions you’re more than free to ask them. <: Otherwise I hope you enjoy! ^.^

earthsong9405: All done with Urbosa’s redesign and the additional sketches for her role in my headcanon! <: As usual I didn’t change too...

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shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winning paper on this topic! Here’s some knowledge I’d like to share: There’s actually been studies as to why it’s usually white kids, a large conclusion amongst the criminology community is that those that often have more privileged lives (white kids in our society’s case) are less adept to dealing with stress and denial. Whereas minorities and others are more likely to cope and function normally despite stressors because of the constant stressors that come from systematic racism and/or other platforms of more limited priviledge. TL;DR: It’s usually a white kid because their privilege incacipated their ability to learn how to handle stress/ denial/ whatever without acting out. The less privileged are done used to the bs and thus typically dont turn to extreme measures as coping mechanisms. EDIT: I had reblogged this and added a link to the paper (which I should’ve done to begin with,) but it’s probably best I just edit my original reblog and add the link (which I also should’ve just done already.) Anyway, it can be found fully sourced here. : Kara @karawrite On behalf of, I dunno, EVERY FAT KID IN the USA, I'ma go ahead and call BS on the whole bullying creates mass shooters narrative. LGBTQ kids, kids of color, disabled kids, poor kids, girl kids are bullied. Who's doing the shooting? White boys whose parents don't secure their guns 5/22/18, 10:40 PM 39 Retweets 106 Likes shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winning paper on this topic! Here’s some knowledge I’d like to share: There’s actually been studies as to why it’s usually white kids, a large conclusion amongst the criminology community is that those that often have more privileged lives (white kids in our society’s case) are less adept to dealing with stress and denial. Whereas minorities and others are more likely to cope and function normally despite stressors because of the constant stressors that come from systematic racism and/or other platforms of more limited priviledge. TL;DR: It’s usually a white kid because their privilege incacipated their ability to learn how to handle stress/ denial/ whatever without acting out. The less privileged are done used to the bs and thus typically dont turn to extreme measures as coping mechanisms. EDIT: I had reblogged this and added a link to the paper (which I should’ve done to begin with,) but it’s probably best I just edit my original reblog and add the link (which I also should’ve just done already.) Anyway, it can be found fully sourced here.

shanlad: redmachasacorns: Not a single lie in sight…… Hello, college grad that actually wrote an award winning paper on this topic! Her...

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savetheturtlescanada: IT’S TIME TO STOP USING SINGLE-USE PLASTICS!!! We recently sparked conversation amongst the Tumblr community about our global plastic usage when we first introduced our reusable straws. While we were aggressive in pointing out that change needed to be made, some of you stressed that plastic usage went beyond just straws. We took what you told us in wanting more products that could assist in lowering our plastic usage and have come up with a solution for another plastic culprit: single-use produce bags. While grocery stores worldwide are phasing out single-use grocery bags at the till, produce bags still remain. On average, 4 bags per family are used per day, adding up to a staggering 1,500 short-lived bags per year! The average plastic bag is used for a whopping 12 minutes! That same bag will take centuries to degrade and may cause irreversible damage to marine life and our oceans. Making the switch to reusables will make a difference - in the health of our planet and the long-lasting freshness of your food. They are not just for produce either. You can store travel items and almost any household item. Perfect for toys, fruit, coins, medicine, cables, cosmetics, accessories and much more. Use them to keep things together during grocery shopping, camping, fishing, garden harvest, beach, and travels.  We hope you’ll join us in our effort to continue the conversation surrounding the reduction of plastic use and keeping our oceans clean.  Check out our Reusable Bags HERE : 255 savetheturtlescanada: IT’S TIME TO STOP USING SINGLE-USE PLASTICS!!! We recently sparked conversation amongst the Tumblr community about our global plastic usage when we first introduced our reusable straws. While we were aggressive in pointing out that change needed to be made, some of you stressed that plastic usage went beyond just straws. We took what you told us in wanting more products that could assist in lowering our plastic usage and have come up with a solution for another plastic culprit: single-use produce bags. While grocery stores worldwide are phasing out single-use grocery bags at the till, produce bags still remain. On average, 4 bags per family are used per day, adding up to a staggering 1,500 short-lived bags per year! The average plastic bag is used for a whopping 12 minutes! That same bag will take centuries to degrade and may cause irreversible damage to marine life and our oceans. Making the switch to reusables will make a difference - in the health of our planet and the long-lasting freshness of your food. They are not just for produce either. You can store travel items and almost any household item. Perfect for toys, fruit, coins, medicine, cables, cosmetics, accessories and much more. Use them to keep things together during grocery shopping, camping, fishing, garden harvest, beach, and travels.  We hope you’ll join us in our effort to continue the conversation surrounding the reduction of plastic use and keeping our oceans clean.  Check out our Reusable Bags HERE
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theladyzephyr: Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen. We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.” Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress. Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell. You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home. We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it. An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly” That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them. Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes. Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off. It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do. It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them. He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’. The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please. Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it. Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it. When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.   : theladyzephyr: Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen. We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.” Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress. Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell. You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home. We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it. An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly” That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them. Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes. Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off. It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do. It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them. He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’. The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please. Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it. Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it. When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.  
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summer-may: gahdamnpunk: Burn these corporations down!! Looks like when people talk about how greedy you are as a corporation, you take back your dumbass decision. Indian farmers make bare minimum after production, there are high number of suicides amongst farmers in India because they can’t pay back the loan they took or they didn’t yield much but due them why don’t you over the production of potatoes, yeah like they’ll be able to pay you, yeah great idea. : The Spectator Index SPECIATOR INDEX @spectatorindex Follow BUSINESS: Pepsi has sued four Indian farmers $150,000 each for growing the type of potato used in the chips of its Lays brand. 4:41 AM - 26 Apr 2019 1,371 Retweets 2,537 Likes Riley Mahon Follow @MahonoftheHour What stage of capitalism is it when massive corporations can sue poor people for growing food The Spectator Index @spectatorindex BUSINESS: Pepsi has sued four Indian farmers $150,000 each for growing the type of potato used in the chips of its Lays brand. 4:47 AM - 26 Apr 2019 2,893 Retweets 6,605 Likes summer-may: gahdamnpunk: Burn these corporations down!! Looks like when people talk about how greedy you are as a corporation, you take back your dumbass decision. Indian farmers make bare minimum after production, there are high number of suicides amongst farmers in India because they can’t pay back the loan they took or they didn’t yield much but due them why don’t you over the production of potatoes, yeah like they’ll be able to pay you, yeah great idea.
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someoneintheshadow456: nautica-the-savant: marbledmartin: thegrumpymathematician: nunyabizni: sarcasmsuitsme: skypig357: iswearimnotnaked: hi hello CATS!!!! CANNOT!!!! BE VEGAN!!!!! i cannot believe i have to fucking say this. dogs are omnivore and IF YOUR VET APPROVES your pooch MAY be able to go on an APPROVED(!!!!!) commercial vegan dog food like the brand “v-dog” which has all the essential vitamins, protein, etc. (the oldest record winning dogs have been vegan) cats are CARNIVORE and cannot fucking live on a vegan diet. a vet would laugh in your face and probably find some way to have your pet taken away from you because you’re obviously not fit to have an animal if you think you can feed a cat a diet based on your own ethics i’m vegan but this is so fucking harmful. it’s about minimizing your harm, not putting your animals on risky diets in an attempt to be perfect. DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO YOUR PETS Idiot people If you see someone you know doing this, report them for animal cruelty and neglect. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This posts, and many of the notes on it, are bothering me. Ladies, gentlemen, esteemed colleagues from outside the confines of the gender binary; gather ‘round. Let’s throw some science in this joint. 1. Humans. Humans are not cats. Humans are not dogs. One would think this obvious, but people have a tendency to attempt such interspecies comparisons when discussing diet. Humans are order omnivora; we have essentially evolved in a manner that attempts to give us as much dietary flexibility as possible. We do, however, require a substance called B12 (or cobalamin), which is extremely important for brain and nervous system functions, as well as the synthesis of DNA and the construction of red blood cells. We cannot produce this vitamin ourselves–no animal, plant, or fungus can. The enzymes used in cobalamin production are essentially unique to bacteria and archaea–some species of which hang out in the digestive tracks of other animals. We get cobalamin in a roundabout way from fish, shellfish, meat, eggs, milk, and dairy products. While there is no naturally-occurring, vegan source of the vitamin that has been demonstrated effective in a human study of statistically significant sample size, effective synthetic forms do exist and can be used as a substitute.  Cyanocobalamin is one of the most common and is frequently found in fortified foods and vitamins. In short: Humans are omnivores. Humans have evolved for dietary flexibility, including viable vegetarianism. Humans did not evolve for veganism (be extremely suspicious of people who tell you that we did, as they are lying), but due to modern technologies, veganism is also a viable diet that humans can thrive on, should they so choose. 2. Cats. Cats are order carnivora. Cats require (amongst other things) an amino acid called taurine. We’re not quite sure how, exactly, but we know that it’s extremely important to feline heart wall tissue, retinal tissue, and brain tissue amongst other things. Cats cannot manufacture their own taurine, and must get it from other sources–primarily shellfish, fish and meat. Taurine breaks down when heated, so feeding your cat a home-cooked diet rich in this foods is also not necessarily a good idea (talk to a vet). Secondary (read: SUPPLEMENTARY. NOT A SOLE SOURCE OF TAURINE.) sources of taurine for cats include dairy, eggs, and seaweed- or yeast-based taurine supplements. In nature, cats don’t really need to worry about getting enough taurine, because (as you may have noticed), taurine sources are indeed the things that cats tend to catch and eat. However, a cat that lives in a human household is dependent on humans for food, and sometimes humans are utter fucktrucks. In short: Cats are obligate carnivores. Their primary source of nutrition is meat. They must eat meat, preferably as close to raw as possible. They have digestive tracks designed for digesting meat. There are vegan/vegetarian cat kibbles on the market. Do not buy them. Your cat is neither vegan nor vegetarian, and if you adjust their diet as if they were, you are a terrible person who is harming and possibly killing your pet. You suck. End of discussion. 3. Dogs. Dogs are slightly more nuanced here. They are facultative carnivores–meaning that they optimally should eat meat, but can survive on other things if resources are scare. Dogs also need the amino acid taurine, but can technically manufacture it themselves if the proper building blocks are in their diets. They also need vitamin D–D3 is preferable, but D2 can be used to some degree. Dogs are somewhere between us (the true omnivore) and the cat (the true carnivore). A vegan or vegetarian diet will keep a dog alive, certainly, but is unlikely to allow your pet to thrive as it lacks the recommended nutrients. You should probably be feeding your dog meat. The exception here–some dogs are allergic to conventional dog foods, or find symptoms of certain diseases alleviated by vegetarianism. In this case, a veterinarian (not you, layperson, I mean an actual trained veterinarian) may determine that the benefits of putting your dog on a vegetarian/vegan diet outweigh those of feeding your dog meat. This is relatively rare, but does occasionally happen. And no, actually, the oldest dog is not vegan–Bramble is the only dog on this list that I found had some indication of veganism. The oldest dog on record is an Australian Kelpie named Maggie, who was not vegan. It is more likely that Bramble lived that long despite the veganism, not because of it. In short: If a vet thinks that your dog may be allergic to dog food/require a special diet and recommends you try feeding it a vegetarian/vegan diet, listen to your vet. Otherwise? Dogs are carnivora. They do need vegetables and other sources of nutrients, but their optimal fuel, as it were, is meat. Your dog needs meat to be happy. Fucking feed your dog.  Now, I did manage to find two veterinarians who disagree with every other study I dug up and the American Veterinary Medical Association. Their articles are here and here. They don’t really have sources, and are essentially wholly dependent on anecdotal evidence (“my dog is a vegetarian and hasn’t died!”), but for those of you data cherry-pickers reading this, there you go.  As a rule, dogs and cats need meat. If that makes you uncomfortable, that is your problem, not theirs. If you try to implement a vegan or vegetarian diet for your pets because you implemented one for yourself, you shouldn’t have those pets. That is animal abuse. (By the way, those of you not feeding your cats and non-allergic dogs the food they need to survive and thrive? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not love your pets?) TL;DR If you do not want a pet that must be fed meat, you should under no circumstances acquire a cat or a dog. Thank you for your time. Rebloobing for the more detailed info on B12 and obligate carnivore vs true omnivores Always reblog. Dear Vegans, If you’re not willing to at least feed your dogs and cats commercial food, get a rabbit or a parrot. : Meg OVeganMegane Vegans who feed their pets meat: u guys have gotta see the bigger picture. We shouldn't support animal exploitation w/ our money That's it. 7/13/16, 10:50 PM aer @thelilmermade @VeganMegane yes um so how would I feed my cat? 7/13/16, 11:02 PM lI VIEW TWEET ACTIVITY Meg @VeganMegane @thelilmermade is your cat male or 7m female? :) check out this website for more info: vegancats.com/ veganfaq.php Meg @VeganMegane @thelilmermade I know you want to best for your companion, and I won't deny that there are risks, but you can minimise those risks! 5m someoneintheshadow456: nautica-the-savant: marbledmartin: thegrumpymathematician: nunyabizni: sarcasmsuitsme: skypig357: iswearimnotnaked: hi hello CATS!!!! CANNOT!!!! BE VEGAN!!!!! i cannot believe i have to fucking say this. dogs are omnivore and IF YOUR VET APPROVES your pooch MAY be able to go on an APPROVED(!!!!!) commercial vegan dog food like the brand “v-dog” which has all the essential vitamins, protein, etc. (the oldest record winning dogs have been vegan) cats are CARNIVORE and cannot fucking live on a vegan diet. a vet would laugh in your face and probably find some way to have your pet taken away from you because you’re obviously not fit to have an animal if you think you can feed a cat a diet based on your own ethics i’m vegan but this is so fucking harmful. it’s about minimizing your harm, not putting your animals on risky diets in an attempt to be perfect. DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO YOUR PETS Idiot people If you see someone you know doing this, report them for animal cruelty and neglect. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This posts, and many of the notes on it, are bothering me. Ladies, gentlemen, esteemed colleagues from outside the confines of the gender binary; gather ‘round. Let’s throw some science in this joint. 1. Humans. Humans are not cats. Humans are not dogs. One would think this obvious, but people have a tendency to attempt such interspecies comparisons when discussing diet. Humans are order omnivora; we have essentially evolved in a manner that attempts to give us as much dietary flexibility as possible. We do, however, require a substance called B12 (or cobalamin), which is extremely important for brain and nervous system functions, as well as the synthesis of DNA and the construction of red blood cells. We cannot produce this vitamin ourselves–no animal, plant, or fungus can. The enzymes used in cobalamin production are essentially unique to bacteria and archaea–some species of which hang out in the digestive tracks of other animals. We get cobalamin in a roundabout way from fish, shellfish, meat, eggs, milk, and dairy products. While there is no naturally-occurring, vegan source of the vitamin that has been demonstrated effective in a human study of statistically significant sample size, effective synthetic forms do exist and can be used as a substitute.  Cyanocobalamin is one of the most common and is frequently found in fortified foods and vitamins. In short: Humans are omnivores. Humans have evolved for dietary flexibility, including viable vegetarianism. Humans did not evolve for veganism (be extremely suspicious of people who tell you that we did, as they are lying), but due to modern technologies, veganism is also a viable diet that humans can thrive on, should they so choose. 2. Cats. Cats are order carnivora. Cats require (amongst other things) an amino acid called taurine. We’re not quite sure how, exactly, but we know that it’s extremely important to feline heart wall tissue, retinal tissue, and brain tissue amongst other things. Cats cannot manufacture their own taurine, and must get it from other sources–primarily shellfish, fish and meat. Taurine breaks down when heated, so feeding your cat a home-cooked diet rich in this foods is also not necessarily a good idea (talk to a vet). Secondary (read: SUPPLEMENTARY. NOT A SOLE SOURCE OF TAURINE.) sources of taurine for cats include dairy, eggs, and seaweed- or yeast-based taurine supplements. In nature, cats don’t really need to worry about getting enough taurine, because (as you may have noticed), taurine sources are indeed the things that cats tend to catch and eat. However, a cat that lives in a human household is dependent on humans for food, and sometimes humans are utter fucktrucks. In short: Cats are obligate carnivores. Their primary source of nutrition is meat. They must eat meat, preferably as close to raw as possible. They have digestive tracks designed for digesting meat. There are vegan/vegetarian cat kibbles on the market. Do not buy them. Your cat is neither vegan nor vegetarian, and if you adjust their diet as if they were, you are a terrible person who is harming and possibly killing your pet. You suck. End of discussion. 3. Dogs. Dogs are slightly more nuanced here. They are facultative carnivores–meaning that they optimally should eat meat, but can survive on other things if resources are scare. Dogs also need the amino acid taurine, but can technically manufacture it themselves if the proper building blocks are in their diets. They also need vitamin D–D3 is preferable, but D2 can be used to some degree. Dogs are somewhere between us (the true omnivore) and the cat (the true carnivore). A vegan or vegetarian diet will keep a dog alive, certainly, but is unlikely to allow your pet to thrive as it lacks the recommended nutrients. You should probably be feeding your dog meat. The exception here–some dogs are allergic to conventional dog foods, or find symptoms of certain diseases alleviated by vegetarianism. In this case, a veterinarian (not you, layperson, I mean an actual trained veterinarian) may determine that the benefits of putting your dog on a vegetarian/vegan diet outweigh those of feeding your dog meat. This is relatively rare, but does occasionally happen. And no, actually, the oldest dog is not vegan–Bramble is the only dog on this list that I found had some indication of veganism. The oldest dog on record is an Australian Kelpie named Maggie, who was not vegan. It is more likely that Bramble lived that long despite the veganism, not because of it. In short: If a vet thinks that your dog may be allergic to dog food/require a special diet and recommends you try feeding it a vegetarian/vegan diet, listen to your vet. Otherwise? Dogs are carnivora. They do need vegetables and other sources of nutrients, but their optimal fuel, as it were, is meat. Your dog needs meat to be happy. Fucking feed your dog.  Now, I did manage to find two veterinarians who disagree with every other study I dug up and the American Veterinary Medical Association. Their articles are here and here. They don’t really have sources, and are essentially wholly dependent on anecdotal evidence (“my dog is a vegetarian and hasn’t died!”), but for those of you data cherry-pickers reading this, there you go.  As a rule, dogs and cats need meat. If that makes you uncomfortable, that is your problem, not theirs. If you try to implement a vegan or vegetarian diet for your pets because you implemented one for yourself, you shouldn’t have those pets. That is animal abuse. (By the way, those of you not feeding your cats and non-allergic dogs the food they need to survive and thrive? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not love your pets?) TL;DR If you do not want a pet that must be fed meat, you should under no circumstances acquire a cat or a dog. Thank you for your time. Rebloobing for the more detailed info on B12 and obligate carnivore vs true omnivores Always reblog. Dear Vegans, If you’re not willing to at least feed your dogs and cats commercial food, get a rabbit or a parrot.
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