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lift: honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting… Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data. It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt. It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles. It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters. It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise. All this would be a terrible, terrible shame.
lift: honestmerchantsailor:
passivity:
Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting…
Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data.
It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt.
It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles.
It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters.
It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise.
All this would be a terrible, terrible shame.

honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canister...

lift: caitas-cooing: wendell-or-something: honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting… Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data. It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt. It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles. It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters. It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise. All this would be a terrible, terrible shame. a word of caution about the plywood though… I just reblogged a post earlier today saying that if a rubber bullet hits that and shatters it, the splinters can put you in more danger. depending on how you’re holding it up, it can also damage your arm if you’ve strapped it on somehow, and carrying a shield can make you a target for them to shoot things at, so it might actually be safer on the whole if you don’t try to construct a shield, counter intuitive though that may seem. It’d be a shame if I reblogged this and people read it
lift: caitas-cooing:

wendell-or-something:
honestmerchantsailor:

passivity:
Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting…
Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data.
It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt.
It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles.
It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters.
It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise.
All this would be a terrible, terrible shame.



a word of caution about the plywood though… I just reblogged a post earlier today saying that if a rubber bullet hits that and shatters it, the splinters can put you in more danger. depending on how you’re holding it up, it can also damage your arm if you’ve strapped it on somehow, and carrying a shield can make you a target for them to shoot things at, so it might actually be safer on the whole if you don’t try to construct a shield, counter intuitive though that may seem.



It’d be a shame if I reblogged this and people read it

caitas-cooing: wendell-or-something: honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves...

lift: honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting… Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data. It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt. It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles. It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters. It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise. All this would be a terrible, terrible shame.
lift: honestmerchantsailor:

passivity:
Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas canisters and if this got shared to all those protesting…
Would be a further shame if people started covering cameras (as seen in Hong Kong, with protestors using poles and rakes to lift cardboard boxes over security cameras), blinding drone optics with laser pointers, and flooding police-run reporting apps with junk data.
It would be a shame if the protesters noted that plainclothes cops can be identified a number of ways, such as wearing steel-toed boots; an armband or wristband of a particular color; driving white, black, or dark blue cars with concealed lights; or having the outline of cuffs visible in the back pocket or the bumps of an armor vest’s shoulder straps under their shirt.
It would be a shame if the protesters began making their signs out of inch-thick plywood to stop rubber bullets, forming a tight shield wall to prevent police from singling out and mobbing individual protesters. It would be a shame if the people behind the shield wall held up umbrellas so that tear gas canisters fired over the heads of the front line will be bounced away. It would be a shame if protesters began constructing improvised armor vests out of duct tape, hardback books, and ceramic tiles.
It would be a shame if protesters started wearing safety glasses, hard hats, respirators, and gardening gloves, all of which can be found at the same hardware stores as the plywood. It would be a shame if they started using traffic cones (the kind without the hole in the top) upside-down buckets, or other improvised lids to contain tear gas by placing them over the canisters.
It would be a shame if protesters learned that police scanners are legal to own in the US, allowing them to learn where police are moving and what routes they intend to take. It would be a shame if they discovered that these scanners can be used to send as well as receive, allowing them to flood the scanner frequencies with noise.
All this would be a terrible, terrible shame.

honestmerchantsailor: passivity: Would also be really annoying if they wore heat resistant gloves to throw back the hot tear gas caniste...

lift: When the restrictions lift but the ‘Rona is still out there
lift: When the restrictions lift but the ‘Rona is still out there

When the restrictions lift but the ‘Rona is still out there

lift: When you decide to lift heavy on the first day back to the gym. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co #fitness #motivation #workout #meme #gymaholic
lift: When you decide to lift heavy on the first day back to the gym.  Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co  #fitness #motivation #workout #meme #gymaholic

When you decide to lift heavy on the first day back to the gym. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co #fitness #motivation #workout #...

lift: When it’s your first day back to the gym and your friend needs a spot to lift an empty barbell. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co #fitness #meme #workout #gymaholic #motivation
lift: When it’s your first day back to the gym and your friend needs a spot to lift an empty barbell.  Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co  #fitness #meme #workout #gymaholic #motivation

When it’s your first day back to the gym and your friend needs a spot to lift an empty barbell. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co...

lift: When the gym reopens and you struggle to lift the weight you used to warm up with. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co #fitness #motivation #meme #workout #gymaholic
lift: When the gym reopens and you struggle to lift the weight you used to warm up with.  Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co   #fitness #motivation #meme #workout #gymaholic

When the gym reopens and you struggle to lift the weight you used to warm up with. Gymaholic App: https://www.gymaholic.co #fitness #m...

lift: Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits! #dogs #dogmemes #funnydogs #animals #animalmemes
lift: Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits! #dogs #dogmemes #funnydogs #animals #animalmemes

Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits! #dogs #dogmemes #funnydogs #a...

lift: 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
lift: 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...

lift: Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits!#dogs #funnydogs 3dogmemes #funnymemes #animalmemes
lift: Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits!#dogs #funnydogs 3dogmemes #funnymemes #animalmemes

Regardless of our current whereabouts, one thing we can always count on is doggo memes to lift our spirits!#dogs #funnydogs 3dogmemes #fu...

lift: folks, we have lift off (via: @maggiebarks_)
lift: folks, we have lift off (via: @maggiebarks_)

folks, we have lift off (via: @maggiebarks_)

lift: Folks, we have lift off (Via: @kbmcneal)
lift: Folks, we have lift off (Via: @kbmcneal)

Folks, we have lift off (Via: @kbmcneal)

lift: 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
lift: ironwoman359:
cereusblue:

unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

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


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

She protects her family.

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




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



I love this

ironwoman359: cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: Th...

lift: I defecated on a lift.
lift: I defecated on a lift.

I defecated on a lift.

lift: that-catholic-shinobi: keyhollow: supreme-leader-stoat: agent-of-empathy: dragongyrlwren: dr-algernop: 13flamingbees: avatarsymbolism: avatrashh: avatar-gifs: Avatar: The Last Airbender 1.05 | The King of Omashu Wow those moves look like someone who’s childhood best friend was an airbender …Shit, you’re right.  That spin he does. That is an airbendery move.  Literally the exact same move Aang pulls when he gets off his glider (cant find a gif but like… I promise) This shows attention to detail was unreal. Even the fall backwards! That looks like the exact kind of thing a fun loving Airbender kid would do while showing off gliders and airbending proficiency. the best benders in this show tend to be the ones who adapt elements of other bending techniques. Bumi has some airbender-y movements, Zuko and Iroh use some Air and Water movements, even Katara tends to use some earthbender looking moves when bending ice Meanwhile Toph just took earthbending and cranked it all the way up to 11. Everyone else: The spice of variety! The four elements make mine stronger! Ballerina time! Toph:….meTal….bendy bendy take into account that Toph might not be able to take other bending styles into her own. Because those styles (especially fire and air) require you to lift your feet off the ground and for Toph she would lose her way of connecting to the world like he’s used too. Toph took earthbending, made it her bitch, and made it adapt to her needs as a disabled person.
lift: that-catholic-shinobi:
keyhollow:

supreme-leader-stoat:

agent-of-empathy:

dragongyrlwren:

dr-algernop:


13flamingbees:

avatarsymbolism:

avatrashh:

avatar-gifs:
Avatar: The Last Airbender 1.05 | The King of Omashu

Wow those moves look like someone who’s childhood best friend was an airbender 

…Shit, you’re right. 
That spin he does. That is an airbendery move. 


Literally the exact same move Aang pulls when he gets off his glider (cant find a gif but like… I promise)


This shows attention to detail was unreal. 


Even the fall backwards! That looks like the exact kind of thing a fun loving Airbender kid would do while showing off gliders and airbending proficiency. 


the best benders in this show tend to be the ones who adapt elements of other bending techniques. Bumi has some airbender-y movements, Zuko and Iroh use some Air and Water movements, even Katara tends to use some earthbender looking moves when bending ice

Meanwhile Toph just took earthbending and cranked it all the way up to 11.


Everyone else: The spice of variety! The four elements make mine stronger! Ballerina time!
Toph:….meTal….bendy bendy 


take into account that Toph might not be able to take other bending styles into her own. Because those styles (especially fire and air) require you to lift your feet off the ground and for Toph she would lose her way of connecting to the world like he’s used too.
Toph took earthbending, made it her bitch, and made it adapt to her needs as a disabled person.

that-catholic-shinobi: keyhollow: supreme-leader-stoat: agent-of-empathy: dragongyrlwren: dr-algernop: 13flamingbees: avatarsymbol...

lift: The Vikings would give kittens to newlywed brides as an essential part of a new household. Ultrafacts.tumblr.com howdidthisevenhappenanyway: ninety6tears: roguetelemetry: nekoama: prokopetz: ultrafacts: bryarly: foxfairy5: ultrafacts: Source More Facts Yes this could have to do with the fact that Freya the Norse Goddess of love, beauty and fertility drove a chariot pulled by cats. So, if I ever get married, I fully expect a catmobile.  One of the other reasons why they gave cats to each other was for their valuable skills as mousers. Cats were able to control rodent populations around their properties. Also, Norse myths are thought to have the earliest literary descriptions of the Norwegian Forest Cat. They were described as large, strong cats that drew Freya’s chariot and were so heavy that not even Thor, God of Thunder, could lift them from the floor. (Source) They kinda live up to the legend, too. Your average Norwegian Forest Cat is twenty pounds of solid muscle, with claws large and strong enough to climb solid rock. They’ve been known to attack bears when defending their territory. And yet they’re one of the cuddliest breeds out there, particularly noted for being patient with small children. I have a Norwegian mix, and can attest that she is the cuddliest cat but also insane enough to try and fight a bear. Viking cats “FIGHT ME” Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, still could not lift this cat. I always love it when this post comes round because a) giant kitties who Thor can’t lift and b) that picture omg boar riding and flower throwing is a good thing
lift: The Vikings would give kittens to
 newlywed brides as an essential
 part of a new household.
 Ultrafacts.tumblr.com
howdidthisevenhappenanyway:
ninety6tears:

roguetelemetry:


nekoama:


prokopetz:


ultrafacts:

bryarly:

foxfairy5:

ultrafacts:

Source More Facts

Yes this could have to do with the fact that Freya the Norse Goddess of love, beauty and fertility drove a chariot pulled by cats.

So, if I ever get married, I fully expect a catmobile. 

One of the other reasons why they gave cats to each other was for their valuable skills as mousers. Cats were able to control rodent populations around their properties.
Also, Norse myths are thought to have the earliest literary descriptions of the Norwegian Forest Cat. They were described as large, strong cats that drew Freya’s chariot and were so heavy that not even Thor, God of Thunder, could lift them from the floor. (Source)

They kinda live up to the legend, too. Your average Norwegian Forest Cat is twenty pounds of solid muscle, with claws large and strong enough to climb solid rock. They’ve been known to attack bears when defending their territory. And yet they’re one of the cuddliest breeds out there, particularly noted for being patient with small children.


I have a Norwegian mix, and can attest that she is the cuddliest cat but also insane enough to try and fight a bear.


Viking cats “FIGHT ME”


Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, still could not lift this cat.


I always love it when this post comes round because a) giant kitties who Thor can’t lift and b) that picture omg boar riding and flower throwing is a good thing

howdidthisevenhappenanyway: ninety6tears: roguetelemetry: nekoama: prokopetz: ultrafacts: bryarly: foxfairy5: ultrafacts: Sour...

lift: FLORIDA MAN Medium aberration, shapeshifter, chaotic evil Armor Class 10 Hit Points 85(15d10 3) Speed 40 ft., Swim (40ft.) CON CHA STR DEX INT WIS 17 3) 17 (-3) 17 (-3) 1 (-5) 1 (:5) 18 (-4) Condition Immunities paralyzed, poisoned, grappled, charmed, frightened, fatigued Senses Tremorsense (30ft) Languages Common, Deep Speech Challenge 5 (1,800 XP) Chaos Incarnate. When Florida Man becomes the target of a spell he rolls for an effect on the Wild Magic table Modern Cryptid Florida Man may appear as any humanoid indefinitely and can change it's appearance at will. It is not incredibly hard to spot, however, due to the deranged look in it's eyes and penchant to take on odd appearance traits (such as face and neck tattoos, unusual hair styles, and extremely poor oral hygiene). The Florida Man's true appearance is unknown, but it will collapse into 3d4 small alligators upon dying Actions Multiattack Florida Man makes two attacks each turn if it is able. Eat a Face. Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5t, one target. Hit 9 (2d6 2). On a Successful Eat a Face attack, Flordia Man grapples the target Throw Something Ranged Weapon Attack: 2 to hit, reach 20ft, one target. Hit 15 (3d6 4) Florida Man will attempt to lift an unsecured object or person within 5ft. of it and throw it at a target. If a creature is thrown, they take no damage but are relocated. If no object or person is within reach, Florida Man will seperate a small aligator from its biomass and throw it monsters-and-more: dungeonmalcontent: Now updated with a few things that make it (in my mind at least) more fitting, functional, and terrifying. Legends.
lift: FLORIDA MAN
 Medium aberration, shapeshifter, chaotic evil
 Armor Class 10
 Hit Points 85(15d10 3)
 Speed 40 ft., Swim (40ft.)
 CON
 CHA
 STR
 DEX
 INT
 WIS
 17 3) 17 (-3) 17 (-3) 1 (-5) 1 (:5) 18 (-4)
 Condition Immunities paralyzed, poisoned, grappled,
 charmed, frightened, fatigued
 Senses Tremorsense (30ft)
 Languages Common, Deep Speech
 Challenge 5 (1,800 XP)
 Chaos Incarnate. When Florida Man becomes the
 target of a spell he rolls for an effect on the Wild
 Magic table
 Modern Cryptid Florida Man may appear as any
 humanoid indefinitely and can change it's
 appearance at will. It is not incredibly hard to spot,
 however, due to the deranged look in it's eyes and
 penchant to take on odd appearance traits (such as
 face and neck tattoos, unusual hair styles, and
 extremely poor oral hygiene). The Florida Man's
 true appearance is unknown, but it will collapse
 into 3d4 small alligators upon dying
 Actions
 Multiattack Florida Man makes two attacks each
 turn if it is able.
 Eat a Face. Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach
 5t, one target. Hit 9 (2d6 2). On a Successful
 Eat a Face attack, Flordia Man grapples the target
 Throw Something Ranged Weapon Attack: 2 to
 hit, reach 20ft, one target. Hit 15 (3d6 4)
 Florida Man will attempt to lift an unsecured object
 or person within 5ft. of it and throw it at a target. If
 a creature is thrown, they take no damage but are
 relocated. If no object or person is within reach,
 Florida Man will seperate a small aligator from its
 biomass and throw it
monsters-and-more:

dungeonmalcontent:

Now updated with a few things that make it (in my mind at least) more fitting, functional, and terrifying. 

Legends.

monsters-and-more: dungeonmalcontent: Now updated with a few things that make it (in my mind at least) more fitting, functional, and te...