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Back In: The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day: by tabspacekit MORE MEMES
Back In: The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day: by tabspacekit
MORE MEMES

The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day: by tabspacekit MORE MEMES

Back In: The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day:
Back In: The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day:

The best part of gym class as a kid back in the day:

Back In: Remember dumps? They’re back! In pog form!
Back In: Remember dumps? They’re back! In pog form!

Remember dumps? They’re back! In pog form!

Back In: sindri42: d0cpr0fess0r: thefingerfuckingfemalefury: strixobscuro: softjunebreeze: knowledgeequalsblackpower: paulwalkersdogwalker: buttcheekpalmkang: hersheyhipster: Do Your Fucking Research *Nicki Minaj Voice* Wow… Lmao. Some people threw white paint on it a few years back. They want to be a victim so bad. Fun Fact: That’s a statue of the fist which Joe Louis used to knock out Max Schmeling, Hitler’s favored heavyweight boxer in 1938. Schmeling won the 1st bout by knockout in round twelve, but Joe Louis came back in the follow-up match and laid him the fuck out in the 1st round. Fun Fact: Schmeling was hated by the Nazis for losing to a black man and for having a Jewish manager, and he hated them right back, stating in 1975 that he was glad he’d lost the fight because the thought of  the Nazis using him for propaganda purposes sickened him. He also personally saved the lives of two Jewish children and later became lifelong friends with Joe Louis. So maybe don’t refer to him as “Hitler’s favored heavyweight boxer”… Thank you for this additional info! Reblogging this for the added facts and so people know that Schmeling wasn’t a Nazi or Nazi collaborator and was in fact a good man Imagine hating Nazis so much that when you get beaten up your response is “Good, now they can’t use me as a role model.” As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s fist.
Back In: sindri42:

d0cpr0fess0r:

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

strixobscuro:

softjunebreeze:

knowledgeequalsblackpower:

paulwalkersdogwalker:


buttcheekpalmkang:


hersheyhipster:

Do Your Fucking Research *Nicki Minaj Voice*



Wow… Lmao.


Some people threw white paint on it a few years back.


They want to be a victim so bad.

Fun Fact: That’s a statue of the fist which Joe Louis used to knock out Max Schmeling, Hitler’s favored heavyweight boxer in 1938. Schmeling won the 1st bout by knockout in round twelve, but Joe Louis came back in the follow-up match and laid him the fuck out in the 1st round.

Fun Fact: Schmeling was hated by the Nazis for losing to a black man and for having a Jewish manager, and he hated them right back, stating in 1975 that he was glad he’d lost the fight because the thought of  the Nazis using him for propaganda purposes sickened him. He also personally saved the lives of two Jewish children and later became lifelong friends with Joe Louis.
So maybe don’t refer to him as “Hitler’s favored heavyweight boxer”…

Thank you for this additional info!
Reblogging this for the added facts and so people know that Schmeling wasn’t a Nazi or Nazi collaborator and was in fact a good man 

Imagine hating Nazis so much that when you get beaten up your response is “Good, now they can’t use me as a role model.”

As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s fist.

sindri42: d0cpr0fess0r: thefingerfuckingfemalefury: strixobscuro: softjunebreeze: knowledgeequalsblackpower: paulwalkersdogwalker:...

Back In: I’m so far out of the loop that I’m back in.
Back In: I’m so far out of the loop that I’m back in.

I’m so far out of the loop that I’m back in.

Back In: Back in Gimmelshtump…
Back In: Back in Gimmelshtump…

Back in Gimmelshtump…

Back In: Send him right back in the coal mine
Back In: Send him right back in the coal mine

Send him right back in the coal mine

Back In: Just different back in the day by Zhay99 MORE MEMES
Back In: Just different back in the day by Zhay99
MORE MEMES

Just different back in the day by Zhay99 MORE MEMES

Back In: 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
Back In: 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...

Back In: isei-silva: You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!
Back In: isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. 

The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!

isei-silva: You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that P...

Back In: fangirltothefullest: dora-wont-explore: frozen-void: linddzz: only-1-a: twowandsandadrink: astral-nexus: vegan-xicano: prettynymph: Sea world should be wiped the fuck out Seaworld, zoos, circuses Always reblog, spread the message. no no zoos zoos do good things zoos help rehabilitate animals who otherwise would not survive in the wild zoos help protect animals that would otherwise be hunted down and zoos give them care to keep them healthy seaworld and circuses (involving animals) those are the ones that are bad Are aquariums still considered good? Cuz ours has a bunch of sea animals that were brought in due to injuries, and that seems like a good thing to help them out until they can go back in the ocean. Aquariums function like aquatic zoos IF they are non-profit and accredited. For instance the National Aquarium does have dolphins BUT last year they stopped doing shows and literally just let the dolphins do what they want. People can come in to watch the dolphins and trainers still are there but now are less “trainers” and more “human toys.” Breeding efforts have stopped and they announced they’re going to care for their existing pod and play as the POD wants for the rest of their life and after that, no dolphins. Almost all their fish are nearly 20 years old (or less depending on natural life cycle, or MORE… there are a few close to 50) and they also have rehabilitation and release programs for injured animals. Since they are non-profit every bit of money goes to constant improvements in their tanks, research, and conservation efforts. Sea World, despite all their advertising and talk, is a for profit organization that is more concerned with the paychecks than with animal welfare. Baltimore aquarium got a lot of people in with their dolphin shows but they stopped when learning it wasn’t best for their animals. Sea World has no such concern. Learn before you burn  Keep the zoos and aquariums. Fuck sea world and circuses. Circuses have been getting rid of their animals in favour of human entertainment because most of them are recognizing the problems with keeping these animals which is more than I can say for sea world. So… fuck sea world.
Back In: fangirltothefullest:

dora-wont-explore:

frozen-void:

linddzz:

only-1-a:

twowandsandadrink:

astral-nexus:

vegan-xicano:

prettynymph:

Sea world should be wiped the fuck out

Seaworld, zoos, circuses

Always reblog, spread the message.

no
no zoos
zoos do good things
zoos help rehabilitate animals who otherwise would not survive in the wild
zoos help protect animals that would otherwise be hunted down
and zoos give them care to keep them healthy
seaworld and circuses (involving animals)
those are the ones that are bad

Are aquariums still considered good? Cuz ours has a bunch of sea animals that were brought in due to injuries, and that seems like a good thing to help them out until they can go back in the ocean.

Aquariums function like aquatic zoos IF they are non-profit and accredited. For instance the National Aquarium does have dolphins BUT last year they stopped doing shows and literally just let the dolphins do what they want. People can come in to watch the dolphins and trainers still are there but now are less “trainers” and more “human toys.” Breeding efforts have stopped and they announced they’re going to care for their existing pod and play as the POD wants for the rest of their life and after that, no dolphins.
Almost all their fish are nearly 20 years old (or less depending on natural life cycle, or MORE… there are a few close to 50) and they also have rehabilitation and release programs for injured animals. Since they are non-profit every bit of money goes to constant improvements in their tanks, research, and conservation efforts.
Sea World, despite all their advertising and talk, is a for profit organization that is more concerned with the paychecks than with animal welfare. Baltimore aquarium got a lot of people in with their dolphin shows but they stopped when learning it wasn’t best for their animals. Sea World has no such concern.

Learn before you burn 

Keep the zoos and aquariums. Fuck sea world and circuses.

Circuses have been getting rid of  their animals in favour of human entertainment because most of them are recognizing the problems with keeping these animals which is more than I can say for sea world. So… fuck sea world.

fangirltothefullest: dora-wont-explore: frozen-void: linddzz: only-1-a: twowandsandadrink: astral-nexus: vegan-xicano: prettynymp...

Back In: Super nervous dipping my toes back in, decided to try something a little different. Wish me luck!
Back In: Super nervous dipping my toes back in, decided to try something a little different. Wish me luck!

Super nervous dipping my toes back in, decided to try something a little different. Wish me luck!

Back In: If they call us back in, we riot.
Back In: If they call us back in, we riot.

If they call us back in, we riot.

Back In: aaliyah-draws: I’m getting back in my Ranma phase 😂💕
Back In: aaliyah-draws:

I’m getting back in my Ranma phase 😂💕

aaliyah-draws: I’m getting back in my Ranma phase 😂💕

Back In: Get back in the corner, emotions. by bluntlyguncle MORE MEMES
Back In: Get back in the corner, emotions. by bluntlyguncle
MORE MEMES

Get back in the corner, emotions. by bluntlyguncle MORE MEMES

Back In: Back in business baby
Back In: Back in business baby

Back in business baby

Back In: Back in business baby by PrayToTheGodOfJenga MORE MEMES
Back In: Back in business baby by PrayToTheGodOfJenga
MORE MEMES

Back in business baby by PrayToTheGodOfJenga MORE MEMES

Back In: magnifigal: I’m trying to get back in the 40k Fanart game after months of bachelor-stress… Anyways, Flight of the Eisenstein was great, here’s a comic about my favorite scene.
Back In: magnifigal:

I’m trying to get back in the 40k Fanart game after months of bachelor-stress… Anyways, Flight of the Eisenstein was great, here’s a comic about my favorite scene.

magnifigal: I’m trying to get back in the 40k Fanart game after months of bachelor-stress… Anyways, Flight of the Eisenstein was great,...

Back In: 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
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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...

Back In: My 11th favorite … back in the stone age of gifs/memes 
Back In: My 11th favorite … back in the stone age of gifs/memes 

My 11th favorite … back in the stone age of gifs/memes 

Back In: This is the first photo i saw when I started using 9gag back in 2013 or 14
Back In: This is the first photo i saw when I started using 9gag back in 2013 or 14

This is the first photo i saw when I started using 9gag back in 2013 or 14

Back In: Pfffft Boomers….. Noah could build an arch back in his days.
Back In: Pfffft Boomers….. Noah could build an arch back in his days.

Pfffft Boomers….. Noah could build an arch back in his days.

Back In: sushinfood: justamerplwithabox: vivelafat: prokopetz: officialdeadparrot: grellholmes: elsajeni: gunslingerannie: justtkeepcalmm: dean-and-his-pie: fororchestra: musicalmelody: Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it”  Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect.  To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha. On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious. I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair… Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair. The lengths we go for music. Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek. One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.” And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is: [stifled giggling] [reeeeeeally deep breath] [COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE] The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture. In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.” FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part. This is the best band post  Everyone else go home Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until, that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that Who does that? This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose. Julius IdontgivaFucik More like Julius Fuckit Pyrozod’s tags for this were too hilarious not to share
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grellholmes:

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gunslingerannie:

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dean-and-his-pie:

fororchestra:

musicalmelody:

Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it” 
Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect. 

To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha.
On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious.

I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair…

Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair.
The lengths we go for music.

Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek.

One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.”
And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is:
[stifled giggling]
[reeeeeeally deep breath]
[COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE]
The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture.
In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.”
FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part.

This is the best band post 
Everyone else go home

Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this

which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until,

that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that

Who does that?

This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose.

Julius IdontgivaFucik

More like Julius Fuckit


Pyrozod’s tags for this were too hilarious not to share

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Back In: So we back in the mine
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So we back in the mine

Back In: So we back in the mine by SlothOwO MORE MEMES
Back In: So we back in the mine by SlothOwO
MORE MEMES

So we back in the mine by SlothOwO MORE MEMES

Back In: Back in my day
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Back in my day

Back In: epicjohndoe: Texting Back In The Old Days
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Texting Back In The Old Days

epicjohndoe: Texting Back In The Old Days

Back In: omg-humor: Back in the good ol’ days
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Back in the good ol’ days

omg-humor: Back in the good ol’ days

Back In: gaymerlvl-pharmercy: birbiebabies: chamfrons-checques-n-champignons: betheothergirl: solitarelee: 221cbakerstreet: spookyrawr: rassoey: avianawareness: aph-romania: reallymisscoffee: dansknapp: stultiloquentia: doctormemelordmd: fangirling-so-hard-rn: Crows are scaryThey use tools Can be taught to speak (like parrots) Have huge brains for birds like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things they are scary smart at solving puzzles some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies they can remember faces SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES. They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns. Guys I’m really scared of crows now.(q)  Yeah but have you seen this  A colleague of my dad’s lives next to a lake, and looked out the window one morning to see a duck trapped in the ice. A crow swooped down. “Oh hell,” she thought, expecting carnage, because crows are opportunists. But the crow chipped at the ice with its beak until the duck was free. Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill I love crows so damn much. When I was fifteen, I hit a pretty serious bout of depression, to the point I was in my room for months. Well, a family of crows made a nest in a tree outside my window. There were two parents and two chicks. One chick was healthy and strong. One was weak, and had a caw like something being strained. It sounded more like a rooster crowing and so my parents jokingly named him ‘Buck’.Well… months passed and Buck’s sibling was taught to fly. His parents focused on the sibling because the sibling was strong. The father stayed behind to try and teach Buck, but I saw him try to fly, fail, and crash to the floor. His father helped him back up into the tree. Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before. That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him.  Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree.  That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick. Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring. that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful. Don’t forget the Russian Crow SLEDDING DOWN A ROOF not once, but twice.  this one morning i kept hearing really loud caws, i remember it was like 5am, LIKE REALLY LOUD AND ANNOYING AND AGGRESSIVE, so loud that i could hear it through a closed window, and i eventually went outside to check it out. there was a crow on my front lawn, it had an injury on its head and couldn’t fly and there were two other crows circling right above it, and they were cawing like mad.  i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance. a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth. i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son. Best birbs !! your son is Beautiful and Strong every time I see this post it has different crow stories and every time I reblog it again because all crow stories are good stories Like, I wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with a crow, but they are a really smart animal, they aren’t scary You just want to be nice to them because they will know and they will remember, and they will pay you back if you treat them a certain way. As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater.  !!!! I don’t think I’ll ever not reblog this. This posts makes me cry and smile at the same time. He’s so handsome!! I would trust a crow with my life
Back In: gaymerlvl-pharmercy:

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rassoey:

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aph-romania:

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dansknapp:

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doctormemelordmd:

fangirling-so-hard-rn:

Crows are scaryThey
use tools
Can be taught to speak (like parrots)
Have huge brains for birds
like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee
They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things
they are scary smart at solving puzzles
some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies
they can remember faces
SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.
They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.
Guys I’m really scared of crows now.(q) 

Yeah but have you seen this 


A colleague of my dad’s lives next to a lake, and looked out the window one morning to see a duck trapped in the ice. A crow swooped down. “Oh hell,” she thought, expecting carnage, because crows are opportunists. But the crow chipped at the ice with its beak until the duck was free.

Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill

I love crows so damn much. When I was fifteen, I hit a pretty serious bout of depression, to the point I was in my room for months. Well, a family of crows made a nest in a tree outside my window. There were two parents and two chicks. One chick was healthy and strong. One was weak, and had a caw like something being strained. It sounded more like a rooster crowing and so my parents jokingly named him ‘Buck’.Well… months passed and Buck’s sibling was taught to fly. His parents focused on the sibling because the sibling was strong. The father stayed behind to try and teach Buck, but I saw him try to fly, fail, and crash to the floor. His father helped him back up into the tree.
Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.
That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 
Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 
That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.
Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring.

that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful.

Don’t forget the Russian Crow SLEDDING DOWN A ROOF not once, but twice. 

this one morning i kept hearing really loud caws, i remember it was like 5am, LIKE REALLY LOUD AND ANNOYING AND AGGRESSIVE, so loud that i could hear it through a closed window, and i eventually went outside to check it out. there was a crow on my front lawn, it had an injury on its head and couldn’t fly and there were two other crows circling right above it, and they were cawing like mad. 
i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.
a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.
i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

Best birbs !!


your son is Beautiful and Strong

every time I see this post it has different crow stories and every time I reblog it again because all crow stories are good stories

Like, I wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with a crow, but they are a really smart animal, they aren’t scary You just want to be nice to them because they will know and they will remember, and they will pay you back if you treat them a certain way.
As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater. 

!!!!


I don’t think I’ll ever not reblog this. This posts makes me cry and smile at the same time.


He’s so handsome!!



I would trust a crow with my life

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Back In: blizzrhy: libertarirynn: dashas-hideous-laughter: fanburgers: laizy-boy: ask-crammaster-ham: here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways” if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (;  ft John: I found the original Oh wow it’s even worse than I expected. This is truly the post of the decade Wait, but SUMO came out in 2016, I could’ve sworn I saw this back in 2015. How fucking dare you. How fucking dare you put this on my dash again. Just when I had eradicated it from my memory you dredge it back up out of the sewers. I will come to your house. I will burn it to the ground. I will end your bloodline. Wannabe teens pretending to be trans gotta stop making this shit. Is borderline offensive, honestly. Don’t make your characters trans for the sake of it. You’re only using a real and difficult condition to make your characters more “interesting”, it’s not useful to the story or relevant, to you it’s like character being blonde. It’s exactly the same as using rape to add action to an already shitty tale, just DON’T. That’s not even the real issue here. The issue is that these guys AREN’T CHARACTERS. They aren’t fucking fictional! They’re real historical people! Some of them were straight up fucking slave owners! “What if this actual historical person who had a teenage slave concubine was actually a cute black transboi uwu” is literally fucking horrifying.
Back In: blizzrhy:

libertarirynn:

dashas-hideous-laughter:

fanburgers:


laizy-boy:


ask-crammaster-ham:


here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways”


if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo
ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (; 
ft John:



I found the original 



Oh wow it’s even worse than I expected. This is truly the post of the decade



Wait, but SUMO came out in 2016, I could’ve sworn I saw this back in 2015.



How fucking dare you. How fucking dare you put this on my dash again. Just when I had eradicated it from my memory you dredge it back up out of the sewers. I will come to your house. I will burn it to the ground. I will end your bloodline.


Wannabe teens pretending to be trans gotta stop making this shit. Is borderline offensive, honestly. Don’t make your characters trans for the sake of it. You’re only using a real and difficult condition to make your characters more “interesting”, it’s not useful to the story or relevant, to you it’s like character being blonde. It’s exactly the same as using rape to add action to an already shitty tale, just DON’T. 


That’s not even the real issue here. The issue is that these guys AREN’T CHARACTERS. They aren’t fucking fictional! They’re real historical people! Some of them were straight up fucking slave owners! “What if this actual historical person who had a teenage slave concubine was actually a cute black transboi uwu” is literally fucking horrifying.

blizzrhy: libertarirynn: dashas-hideous-laughter: fanburgers: laizy-boy: ask-crammaster-ham: here’s the closeted furries “hey ma...

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