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                            Bernie Sanders looking up at sky while on his cell phone is now a meme
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            Keke Palmer Is Looking for Love—and a Good Lather
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
    






    

    
        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
        

            

                








            

        

        
    
    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        phantomemes:
starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary .
‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’
‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’
‘  you are teaching me to love  ’
‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’
‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’
‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’
‘  you are my good days  ’
‘  i have been loved dearly  ’
‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’
‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’
‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’
‘  there will always be another day  ’
‘  there will always be another mercy  ’
‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’
‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’
‘  i am terrified for you  ’
‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’
‘  today i am thankful  ’
‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’
‘  come and get me  ’
‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’
‘  i think i broke again last night  ’
‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’
‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’
‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’
‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’
‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’
‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’
‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’
‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’
‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’
‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’
‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’
‘  this life is an altar  ’
‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’
‘  there is a mountain in me  ’
‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’
‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’
‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’
‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’
‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’
‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’
‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’
‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’
‘  you scare me a little  ’
‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’
‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’
‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’
‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’
‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’

‘  there is never an end  ’
: phantomemes:
starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary .
‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’
‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’
‘  you are teaching me to love  ’
‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’
‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’
‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’
‘  you are my good days  ’
‘  i have been loved dearly  ’
‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’
‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’
‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’
‘  there will always be another day  ’
‘  there will always be another mercy  ’
‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’
‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’
‘  i am terrified for you  ’
‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’
‘  today i am thankful  ’
‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’
‘  come and get me  ’
‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’
‘  i think i broke again last night  ’
‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’
‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’
‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’
‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’
‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’
‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’
‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’
‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’
‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’
‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’
‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’
‘  this life is an altar  ’
‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’
‘  there is a mountain in me  ’
‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’
‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’
‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’
‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’
‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’
‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’
‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’
‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’
‘  you scare me a little  ’
‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’
‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’
‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’
‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’
‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’

‘  there is never an end  ’

        

            
            

                
                
                    phantomemes:
starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary .
‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’
‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’
‘  you are teaching me to love  ’
‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’
‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’
‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’
‘  you are my good days  ’
‘  i have been loved dearly  ’
‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’
‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’
‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’
‘  there will always be another day  ’
‘  there will always be another mercy  ’
‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’
‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’
‘  i am terrified for you  ’
‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’
‘  today i am thankful  ’
‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’
‘  come and get me  ’
‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’
‘  i think i broke again last night  ’
‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’
‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’
‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’
‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’
‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’
‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’
‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’
‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’
‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’
‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’
‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’
‘  this life is an altar  ’
‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’
‘  there is a mountain in me  ’
‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’
‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’
‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’
‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’
‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’
‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’
‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’
‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’
‘  you scare me a little  ’
‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’
‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’
‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’
‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’
‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’

‘  there is never an end  ’
: phantomemes:
starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary .
‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’
‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’
‘  you are teaching me to love  ’
‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’
‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’
‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’
‘  you are my good days  ’
‘  i have been loved dearly  ’
‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’
‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’
‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’
‘  there will always be another day  ’
‘  there will always be another mercy  ’
‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’
‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’
‘  i am terrified for you  ’
‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’
‘  today i am thankful  ’
‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’
‘  come and get me  ’
‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’
‘  i think i broke again last night  ’
‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’
‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’
‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’
‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’
‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’
‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’
‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’
‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’
‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’
‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’
‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’
‘  this life is an altar  ’
‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’
‘  there is a mountain in me  ’
‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’
‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’
‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’
‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’
‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’
‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’
‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’
‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’
‘  you scare me a little  ’
‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’
‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’
‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’
‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’
‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’

‘  there is never an end  ’

                    
                
            

            
                
                
phantomemes:
starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        afloweroutofstone:

iamicecreamsbitch:

averyterrible:


afloweroutofstone:

afloweroutofstone:

the-real-numbers:

identicaltomyself:


argumate:


afloweroutofstone:
Spent the last four hours or so starting on a new project: mapping the locations of famous horror movies set in America. It’s a work in progress, y’all’ see more when I’m done.
this is like when the RAF tried to figure out where to armour their bombers by looking at the distribution of bullet holes; the empty area on the map is where nobody lived to tell the tale.


It follows population density pretty closely except that the desert Southwest is over represented. Is that because it’s close to Hollywood? Cheap to shoot in? High density of chupacabras?


That’s just where the spooky is. Everything else is just noise from large populations.

Since @argumate​ brought this back, here’s what the map looks like today:
I started adding any horror movie at all, not just well-known ones. Also, it’s global now!

@cominyern​ Subgenre! 
Red is killer/slasher/psychological
Blue is monster/creature
Yellow is ghost/spirit/demon
Green is alien
Black is zombies
Purple is vampires
It lets you look at some cool regional trends, like how ghosts are huge in New England while aliens and vampires have a cluster in the Southwest.

that the original had a lot of black in Pittsburgh is unsurprising, given where a certain George Romero came from, but it now has an interesting relative density and variety.

(i blame the Tom Savini practical effects school in Monessen, personally)



I wish this was an interactive map I want to find and watch my “local” horror movies! 

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s a link to explore the map for your local horror movies!
: afloweroutofstone:

iamicecreamsbitch:

averyterrible:


afloweroutofstone:

afloweroutofstone:

the-real-numbers:

identicaltomyself:


argumate:


afloweroutofstone:
Spent the last four hours or so starting on a new project: mapping the locations of famous horror movies set in America. It’s a work in progress, y’all’ see more when I’m done.
this is like when the RAF tried to figure out where to armour their bombers by looking at the distribution of bullet holes; the empty area on the map is where nobody lived to tell the tale.


It follows population density pretty closely except that the desert Southwest is over represented. Is that because it’s close to Hollywood? Cheap to shoot in? High density of chupacabras?


That’s just where the spooky is. Everything else is just noise from large populations.

Since @argumate​ brought this back, here’s what the map looks like today:
I started adding any horror movie at all, not just well-known ones. Also, it’s global now!

@cominyern​ Subgenre! 
Red is killer/slasher/psychological
Blue is monster/creature
Yellow is ghost/spirit/demon
Green is alien
Black is zombies
Purple is vampires
It lets you look at some cool regional trends, like how ghosts are huge in New England while aliens and vampires have a cluster in the Southwest.

that the original had a lot of black in Pittsburgh is unsurprising, given where a certain George Romero came from, but it now has an interesting relative density and variety.

(i blame the Tom Savini practical effects school in Monessen, personally)



I wish this was an interactive map I want to find and watch my “local” horror movies! 

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s a link to explore the map for your local horror movies!

        

            
            

                
                
                    afloweroutofstone:

iamicecreamsbitch:

averyterrible:


afloweroutofstone:

afloweroutofstone:

the-real-numbers:

identicaltomyself:


argumate:


afloweroutofstone:
Spent the last four hours or so starting on a new project: mapping the locations of famous horror movies set in America. It’s a work in progress, y’all’ see more when I’m done.
this is like when the RAF tried to figure out where to armour their bombers by looking at the distribution of bullet holes; the empty area on the map is where nobody lived to tell the tale.


It follows population density pretty closely except that the desert Southwest is over represented. Is that because it’s close to Hollywood? Cheap to shoot in? High density of chupacabras?


That’s just where the spooky is. Everything else is just noise from large populations.

Since @argumate​ brought this back, here’s what the map looks like today:
I started adding any horror movie at all, not just well-known ones. Also, it’s global now!

@cominyern​ Subgenre! 
Red is killer/slasher/psychological
Blue is monster/creature
Yellow is ghost/spirit/demon
Green is alien
Black is zombies
Purple is vampires
It lets you look at some cool regional trends, like how ghosts are huge in New England while aliens and vampires have a cluster in the Southwest.

that the original had a lot of black in Pittsburgh is unsurprising, given where a certain George Romero came from, but it now has an interesting relative density and variety.

(i blame the Tom Savini practical effects school in Monessen, personally)



I wish this was an interactive map I want to find and watch my “local” horror movies! 

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s a link to explore the map for your local horror movies!
: afloweroutofstone:

iamicecreamsbitch:

averyterrible:


afloweroutofstone:

afloweroutofstone:

the-real-numbers:

identicaltomyself:


argumate:


afloweroutofstone:
Spent the last four hours or so starting on a new project: mapping the locations of famous horror movies set in America. It’s a work in progress, y’all’ see more when I’m done.
this is like when the RAF tried to figure out where to armour their bombers by looking at the distribution of bullet holes; the empty area on the map is where nobody lived to tell the tale.


It follows population density pretty closely except that the desert Southwest is over represented. Is that because it’s close to Hollywood? Cheap to shoot in? High density of chupacabras?


That’s just where the spooky is. Everything else is just noise from large populations.

Since @argumate​ brought this back, here’s what the map looks like today:
I started adding any horror movie at all, not just well-known ones. Also, it’s global now!

@cominyern​ Subgenre! 
Red is killer/slasher/psychological
Blue is monster/creature
Yellow is ghost/spirit/demon
Green is alien
Black is zombies
Purple is vampires
It lets you look at some cool regional trends, like how ghosts are huge in New England while aliens and vampires have a cluster in the Southwest.

that the original had a lot of black in Pittsburgh is unsurprising, given where a certain George Romero came from, but it now has an interesting relative density and variety.

(i blame the Tom Savini practical effects school in Monessen, personally)



I wish this was an interactive map I want to find and watch my “local” horror movies! 

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s a link to explore the map for your local horror movies!

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        legitimatelala:
a-snarling-slytherin:

satanstrousers:

sweaterkittensahoy:


leaper182:


jenovaii:


littlekiwi37-archive:


nicole-coenen:
Women Self Defense in 1947

I’m not sure what’s the best part of this video: the fact that she’s in heels, the fact that she does the whole thing looking like she don’t give a fuck, that chick in the back just exercising and enjoying the show, or the fact that both men and women are observing this and the girls are laughing and the guys look concerned/pensive as fuck as they watch all their tactics get shut down like nothing is even happening.


… msties is it just me or is this familiar?


Some of these are moves I haven’t seen before.


Some of this looks similar to the self defense I learned in a course three or four years ago. It’s definitely got some judo in it (arm bars, throws, fighting to and from the ground). I love this lady. She is rad. I feel like she, much like the rad lady I had as my self defense teacher, would also warn the women that if they don’t think they can gouge out someone’s eyes, don’t start trying because you’ll attack better with something you can follow through on.


crimelords I’m sorry I couldn’t not reblog this for you


The cheerful music makes it even better 



Exactly the music sets it off
: legitimatelala:
a-snarling-slytherin:

satanstrousers:

sweaterkittensahoy:


leaper182:


jenovaii:


littlekiwi37-archive:


nicole-coenen:
Women Self Defense in 1947

I’m not sure what’s the best part of this video: the fact that she’s in heels, the fact that she does the whole thing looking like she don’t give a fuck, that chick in the back just exercising and enjoying the show, or the fact that both men and women are observing this and the girls are laughing and the guys look concerned/pensive as fuck as they watch all their tactics get shut down like nothing is even happening.


… msties is it just me or is this familiar?


Some of these are moves I haven’t seen before.


Some of this looks similar to the self defense I learned in a course three or four years ago. It’s definitely got some judo in it (arm bars, throws, fighting to and from the ground). I love this lady. She is rad. I feel like she, much like the rad lady I had as my self defense teacher, would also warn the women that if they don’t think they can gouge out someone’s eyes, don’t start trying because you’ll attack better with something you can follow through on.


crimelords I’m sorry I couldn’t not reblog this for you


The cheerful music makes it even better 



Exactly the music sets it off

        

            
            

                
                
                    legitimatelala:
a-snarling-slytherin:

satanstrousers:

sweaterkittensahoy:


leaper182:


jenovaii:


littlekiwi37-archive:


nicole-coenen:
Women Self Defense in 1947

I’m not sure what’s the best part of this video: the fact that she’s in heels, the fact that she does the whole thing looking like she don’t give a fuck, that chick in the back just exercising and enjoying the show, or the fact that both men and women are observing this and the girls are laughing and the guys look concerned/pensive as fuck as they watch all their tactics get shut down like nothing is even happening.


… msties is it just me or is this familiar?


Some of these are moves I haven’t seen before.


Some of this looks similar to the self defense I learned in a course three or four years ago. It’s definitely got some judo in it (arm bars, throws, fighting to and from the ground). I love this lady. She is rad. I feel like she, much like the rad lady I had as my self defense teacher, would also warn the women that if they don’t think they can gouge out someone’s eyes, don’t start trying because you’ll attack better with something you can follow through on.


crimelords I’m sorry I couldn’t not reblog this for you


The cheerful music makes it even better 



Exactly the music sets it off
: legitimatelala:
a-snarling-slytherin:

satanstrousers:

sweaterkittensahoy:


leaper182:


jenovaii:


littlekiwi37-archive:


nicole-coenen:
Women Self Defense in 1947

I’m not sure what’s the best part of this video: the fact that she’s in heels, the fact that she does the whole thing looking like she don’t give a fuck, that chick in the back just exercising and enjoying the show, or the fact that both men and women are observing this and the girls are laughing and the guys look concerned/pensive as fuck as they watch all their tactics get shut down like nothing is even happening.


… msties is it just me or is this familiar?


Some of these are moves I haven’t seen before.


Some of this looks similar to the self defense I learned in a course three or four years ago. It’s definitely got some judo in it (arm bars, throws, fighting to and from the ground). I love this lady. She is rad. I feel like she, much like the rad lady I had as my self defense teacher, would also warn the women that if they don’t think they can gouge out someone’s eyes, don’t start trying because you’ll attack better with something you can follow through on.


crimelords I’m sorry I couldn’t not reblog this for you


The cheerful music makes it even better 



Exactly the music sets it off

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        followthebluebell:
roane72:

mapelie:

everythingfox:
Mission failed

Ummm. Abort.

The yawn is what kills me. “Oh. Yeah, i was gonna take a nap. So sleepy honkshoo.”

This is a really good example of appeasement behavior in cats.  
The kitten wants to play, but stops because the older cat has their ears back.  Kitten backs down to show a loss of interest— at that point, you can see the older cat blink slowly.  This is one of the ways cats demonstrate trust and understanding.   The kitten turns away, to further cement a lack of interest in playtime at the moment.  
The kitten lies down slowly, occasionally looking to the older cat for more approval.  Finally, the little yawn at the end isn’t to go ‘i’m sleepy’, but rather as a calming signal.  Cats consider sleeping to be a communal activity.  By settling down and imitating the older cat, the younger cat is displaying ‘yes, I understand Now Is Not Playtime, we’re cool, right?’ 
: followthebluebell:
roane72:

mapelie:

everythingfox:
Mission failed

Ummm. Abort.

The yawn is what kills me. “Oh. Yeah, i was gonna take a nap. So sleepy honkshoo.”

This is a really good example of appeasement behavior in cats.  
The kitten wants to play, but stops because the older cat has their ears back.  Kitten backs down to show a loss of interest— at that point, you can see the older cat blink slowly.  This is one of the ways cats demonstrate trust and understanding.   The kitten turns away, to further cement a lack of interest in playtime at the moment.  
The kitten lies down slowly, occasionally looking to the older cat for more approval.  Finally, the little yawn at the end isn’t to go ‘i’m sleepy’, but rather as a calming signal.  Cats consider sleeping to be a communal activity.  By settling down and imitating the older cat, the younger cat is displaying ‘yes, I understand Now Is Not Playtime, we’re cool, right?’ 

        

            
            

                
                
                    followthebluebell:
roane72:

mapelie:

everythingfox:
Mission failed

Ummm. Abort.

The yawn is what kills me. “Oh. Yeah, i was gonna take a nap. So sleepy honkshoo.”

This is a really good example of appeasement behavior in cats.  
The kitten wants to play, but stops because the older cat has their ears back.  Kitten backs down to show a loss of interest— at that point, you can see the older cat blink slowly.  This is one of the ways cats demonstrate trust and understanding.   The kitten turns away, to further cement a lack of interest in playtime at the moment.  
The kitten lies down slowly, occasionally looking to the older cat for more approval.  Finally, the little yawn at the end isn’t to go ‘i’m sleepy’, but rather as a calming signal.  Cats consider sleeping to be a communal activity.  By settling down and imitating the older cat, the younger cat is displaying ‘yes, I understand Now Is Not Playtime, we’re cool, right?’ 
: followthebluebell:
roane72:

mapelie:

everythingfox:
Mission failed

Ummm. Abort.

The yawn is what kills me. “Oh. Yeah, i was gonna take a nap. So sleepy honkshoo.”

This is a really good example of appeasement behavior in cats.  
The kitten wants to play, but stops because the older cat has their ears back.  Kitten backs down to show a loss of interest— at that point, you can see the older cat blink slowly.  This is one of the ways cats demonstrate trust and understanding.   The kitten turns away, to further cement a lack of interest in playtime at the moment.  
The kitten lies down slowly, occasionally looking to the older cat for more approval.  Finally, the little yawn at the end isn’t to go ‘i’m sleepy’, but rather as a calming signal.  Cats consider sleeping to be a communal activity.  By settling down and imitating the older cat, the younger cat is displaying ‘yes, I understand Now Is Not Playtime, we’re cool, right?’ 

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        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 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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        sonneillonv:

violent-cisbian:

lesbianplayinanimalcrossing:


violent-cisbian:


thevirginmaryswomb:


radcybergoth:


blackswallowtailbutterfly:


ryderdai:

the-pump-king:


morphimus:


charlesoberonn:

charlesoberonn:

queen-of-dirt:

charlesoberonn:

notaboyscout:

charlesoberonn:


memory-thought:

charlesoberonn:


updogonline:

It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong.



I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. 

You can see the inside of the cardboard though.
This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set.



it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. 




y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows

If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door.



I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal.



American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last.
Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls.
Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood.
Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that.
Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is.
Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes.
Read this article.
https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality
Then watch this video.



Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? 



It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️

I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself.



It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood



Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood



do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,?



No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on.
Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily.



why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood?

I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam.
Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it.
You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.  
Needless to say I’m having it replaced.



-laughs in solid wooden door-: sonneillonv:

violent-cisbian:

lesbianplayinanimalcrossing:


violent-cisbian:


thevirginmaryswomb:


radcybergoth:


blackswallowtailbutterfly:


ryderdai:

the-pump-king:


morphimus:


charlesoberonn:

charlesoberonn:

queen-of-dirt:

charlesoberonn:

notaboyscout:

charlesoberonn:


memory-thought:

charlesoberonn:


updogonline:

It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong.



I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. 

You can see the inside of the cardboard though.
This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set.



it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. 




y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows

If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door.



I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal.



American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last.
Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls.
Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood.
Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that.
Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is.
Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes.
Read this article.
https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality
Then watch this video.



Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? 



It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️

I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself.



It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood



Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood



do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,?



No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on.
Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily.



why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood?

I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam.
Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it.
You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.  
Needless to say I’m having it replaced.



-laughs in solid wooden door-
        

            
            

                
                
                    sonneillonv:

violent-cisbian:

lesbianplayinanimalcrossing:


violent-cisbian:


thevirginmaryswomb:


radcybergoth:


blackswallowtailbutterfly:


ryderdai:

the-pump-king:


morphimus:


charlesoberonn:

charlesoberonn:

queen-of-dirt:

charlesoberonn:

notaboyscout:

charlesoberonn:


memory-thought:

charlesoberonn:


updogonline:

It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong.



I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. 

You can see the inside of the cardboard though.
This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set.



it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. 




y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows

If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door.



I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal.



American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last.
Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls.
Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood.
Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that.
Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is.
Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes.
Read this article.
https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality
Then watch this video.



Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? 



It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️

I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself.



It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood



Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood



do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,?



No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on.
Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily.



why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood?

I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam.
Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it.
You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.  
Needless to say I’m having it replaced.



-laughs in solid wooden door-: sonneillonv:

violent-cisbian:

lesbianplayinanimalcrossing:


violent-cisbian:


thevirginmaryswomb:


radcybergoth:


blackswallowtailbutterfly:


ryderdai:

the-pump-king:


morphimus:


charlesoberonn:

charlesoberonn:

queen-of-dirt:

charlesoberonn:

notaboyscout:

charlesoberonn:


memory-thought:

charlesoberonn:


updogonline:

It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong.



I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. 

You can see the inside of the cardboard though.
This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set.



it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. 




y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows

If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door.



I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal.



American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last.
Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls.
Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood.
Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that.
Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is.
Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes.
Read this article.
https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality
Then watch this video.



Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? 



It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️

I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself.



It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood



Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood



do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,?



No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on.
Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily.



why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood?

I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam.
Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it.
You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.  
Needless to say I’m having it replaced.



-laughs in solid wooden door-
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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                                    Staff Editorial: Looking at memes is not being informed
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    The Finnish President Looking 'Finished' With Trump Is Twitter's Newest Meme
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Famous for Looking Like Someone More Famous