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massive: A massive misunderstanding [OC]
massive: A massive misunderstanding [OC]

A massive misunderstanding [OC]

massive: clockworkrobotic: bigancestorenergy: ouma-anti: whatjordylikes: danielle-mertina: blackqueerblog: Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids. This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it. Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm. I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts. This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour. There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever.  Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics! Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.
massive: clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.

clockworkrobotic: bigancestorenergy: ouma-anti: whatjordylikes: danielle-mertina: blackqueerblog: Some parents really don’t under...

massive: broadwaytheanimatedseries: legalizememes: smallest-feeblest-boggart: the-hittite: sexhaver: sexhaver: silverlightpony: gayestgen: scorch-mechanic: goat-plushie: Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive. The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books. Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore. The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs. I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story. (For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.) anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons. Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes. it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once
massive: broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:

scorch-mechanic:


goat-plushie:
Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive.
The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books.
Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore.



The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs.
I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story.
(For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.)



anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this




Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons.
Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes.

it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages



one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever



This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once

broadwaytheanimatedseries: legalizememes: smallest-feeblest-boggart: the-hittite: sexhaver: sexhaver: silverlightpony: gayestgen:...

massive: 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
massive: 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...

massive: Don't worry, cat lovers! We know just what you need today -- a massive black cat magic extravaganza! #cats #catmemes #blackcatmemes #funnycats #lolcats
massive: Don't worry, cat lovers! We know just what you need today -- a massive black cat magic extravaganza! #cats #catmemes #blackcatmemes #funnycats #lolcats

Don't worry, cat lovers! We know just what you need today -- a massive black cat magic extravaganza! #cats #catmemes #blackcatmemes #funn...

massive: Massive respect by notime4ausername MORE MEMES
massive: Massive respect by notime4ausername
MORE MEMES

Massive respect by notime4ausername MORE MEMES

massive: daniyyeel: big massive man
massive: daniyyeel:

big massive man

daniyyeel: big massive man

massive: I’m starting to think my dog Izzy might be behind this massive stay at home movement…
massive: I’m starting to think my dog Izzy might be behind this massive stay at home movement…

I’m starting to think my dog Izzy might be behind this massive stay at home movement…

massive: ophidahlia: Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it.
massive: ophidahlia:
Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by charging almost half of the cost of the drink in a returnable fee. Nearly everyone returned their bottles; it was a huge success. When they switched to plastic in the 50’s it became more profitable to just toss bottles away so they used shell organizations to secretly lobby congress and senates to kill recycling bills while simultaneously creating massive ad campaigns to convince the public that recycling was all the consumer’s responsibility. This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s public knowledge that gets drowned out in the noise made by their PR firms. 
Last year Coca-Cola was still up to the same environmental villainry. More recycling advertising campaigns and killed bottle-fee bills which have been long proven to massively boost recycling rates but also push the cost of recycling from the consumer onto the manufacturer. That’s also detailed in the previous link. 
Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that large corporations care about this world or anything in it other than profit. They’ll engage in charity as an investment if the campaign offers good return for their brand value and public image, but don’t think for a second we can get capitalists to behave ethically through any other means than forcing them to do it.

ophidahlia: Coca-Cola (and Dixie Cup) pioneered the recycling movement in the 40’s to get people to return valuable glass bottles by char...

massive: weirdrussians:A Russian prankster glued a massive portrait of President Vladimir Putin to the inside of a residential elevator. He then placed a camera in the elevator to record people’s reactions.
massive: weirdrussians:A Russian prankster glued a massive portrait of President Vladimir Putin to the inside of a residential elevator. He then placed a camera in the elevator to record people’s reactions.

weirdrussians:A Russian prankster glued a massive portrait of President Vladimir Putin to the inside of a residential elevator. He then p...

massive: ditto-exodus: It was too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of raw iron. @bscully
massive: ditto-exodus:

It was too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of raw iron.


@bscully

ditto-exodus: It was too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of raw iron. @bscully

massive: 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
massive: 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...

massive: dynastylnoire: writernotwaiting: hellenhighwater: astolen98saturnsedan: luadell: thisnewdevilry: sputnikcentury: teapotsahoy: lovedsomuch: warsfeils: anubituf: harukami: last-snowfall: weareallmedie: firedanceryote: reptila-tequila: qeilla: thefreckledavantgardegoober: mysticmisfit89: Meanwhile, in prehistoric Canada….. No no, you don’t understand, moose really do get that big. Take it from a Canadian. I’ve seen that bullshit in person. Scary as all heck. And that’s how people can die if they hit a moose. Seriously, one of our fears when driving in the country is having to deal with this scenario of a moose jumping out in front of the car. moose are actual legit ice age megafauna; theyve been here since the ice age, they are old as fuck. they also are pretty terrifying and ive echoed this before but i went to wiki and “In terms of raw numbers, they attack more people than bears and wolves combined” and “ In the Americas, moose injure more people than any other wild mammal and, worldwide, only hippopotamuses injure more.” like, fuck off with that I was dog sitting a dog once who insisted she had to go out in the middle of the night it was an emergency, so I took her out. Suddenly she starts pointing and barking and I look up and can just make out the outline of a HUGE moose. I’ve been accidentally face to face with a black bear and that scared me less than being up close with a moose. I’m 5 foot so imagine staring up at an animal several feet taller than you that is debating charging the dog who’s leash you are holding. I was terrified as I grabbed the dog by her collar to get better control over her and backed up slowly til I was out of line of sight and bolted for the house at a dead run. Did you know most Canadian lake monster stories come from people seeing moose swimming? They are massive animals. They are massive and they charge. I get so scared when tourists are all “oh yeah, we got out of the car to get a closer look and, ya’ll have some mighty impressive animals around here.”Yes, yes we do, and they have mighty tired guardian angels because moose can, and do, charge at people. Someone my mom worked with died hitting a moose on the highway. Their eyes don’t reflect light. In the dark they are literally nothing but a big slightly darker shape in the night. Roughly every year in the town I grew up in, a cow (moose) and her calf will wander through downtown. Maybe once or twice. If she’s aggressive enough, the local Mounties will escort her through to keep idiots away. I’ve definitely talked with people who thought moose were deer-sized or maybe horse-sized and I was like NO YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND MOOSE ARE TERRIFYING Moose are terrifying, you guys. I finally live on a province where moose and deer exist. I do not drive at night in fear of meeting one. If you hit a moose going 90 on a highway, not only is your car trashed, you are probably trashed. I’ve seen cars that got wrecked and there seems to be a consensus that at least half the time, the giant fucking beastie just shakes itself off and continues gallumphing along the countryside. If you fucking hit a moose with your car and their legs go through your windshield, congratulations, you are dead. Massive hooves kicking you to death? Yeah.  Moose are fucking terrifying. Bull moose won’t fuck with you too much unless you fuck with them, but the time a bull moose casually swaggered his way past 7 year old me when I was sledding literally put me off winter sports for a solid month.  Momma moose and their babies, though? I legitimately had to call in to work to be like “ey yo there is a moose in my driveway and I can’t get out” AND MY MANAGERS UNDERSTOOD. Moose. MOOSE. I have to admit I thought they were like a Canadian deer before this. The commenter above who claims that moose’s eyes don’t reflect light is only partially correct; if you shine a flashlight in a moose’s eyes it will glow like a cat (and then you will probably get killed to death by an annoyed moose) but the reason they are so dangerous to cars at nights is that they are too tall for the headlights to reach. Think about that. Moose confirmed for actual kaiju. Kaiju category: Maple.   Now I kinda want a kaiju movie set in Canada where it’s just a moose. Like a regular moose but more aggressive. @ssalogel For scale, a female african elephant is 7.2-8.5 feet at the shoulder, according to Wikipedia. A moose is  4.6 – 6.9 ft. at the shoulder. So instead of thinking “This animal is a bit bigger than a deer” you can think “This animal is barely smaller than an elephant” And they can run up to 40 miles per hour A 16 wheeler with fur
massive: dynastylnoire:

writernotwaiting:

hellenhighwater:

astolen98saturnsedan:

luadell:

thisnewdevilry:

sputnikcentury:

teapotsahoy:

lovedsomuch:

warsfeils:

anubituf:

harukami:

last-snowfall:

weareallmedie:

firedanceryote:

reptila-tequila:

qeilla:

thefreckledavantgardegoober:

mysticmisfit89:

Meanwhile, in prehistoric Canada…..

No no, you don’t understand, moose really do get that big. Take it from a Canadian. I’ve seen that bullshit in person. Scary as all heck.

And that’s how people can die if they hit a moose. Seriously, one of our fears when driving in the country is having to deal with this scenario of a moose jumping out in front of the car.

moose are actual legit ice age megafauna; theyve been here since the ice age, they are old as fuck. they also are pretty terrifying and ive echoed this before but i went to wiki and “In terms of raw numbers, they attack more people than bears and wolves combined” and “ In the Americas, moose injure more people than any other wild mammal and, worldwide, only hippopotamuses injure more.”
like, fuck off with that

I was dog sitting a dog once who insisted she had to go out in the middle of the night it was an emergency, so I took her out. Suddenly she starts pointing and barking and I look up and can just make out the outline of a HUGE moose. I’ve been accidentally face to face with a black bear and that scared me less than being up close with a moose. I’m 5 foot so imagine staring up at an animal several feet taller than you that is debating charging the dog who’s leash you are holding. I was terrified as I grabbed the dog by her collar to get better control over her and backed up slowly til I was out of line of sight and bolted for the house at a dead run. Did you know most Canadian lake monster stories come from people seeing moose swimming? They are massive animals.

They are massive and they charge. I get so scared when tourists are all “oh yeah, we got out of the car to get a closer look and, ya’ll have some mighty impressive animals around here.”Yes, yes we do, and they have mighty tired guardian angels because moose can, and do, charge at people.

Someone my mom worked with died hitting a moose on the highway. Their eyes don’t reflect light. In the dark they are literally nothing but a big slightly darker shape in the night. Roughly every year in the town I grew up in, a cow (moose) and her calf will wander through downtown. Maybe once or twice. If she’s aggressive enough, the local Mounties will escort her through to keep idiots away.

I’ve definitely talked with people who thought moose were deer-sized or maybe horse-sized and I was like NO YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND MOOSE ARE TERRIFYING
Moose are terrifying, you guys.

I finally live on a province where moose and deer exist.
I do not drive at night in fear of meeting one. If you hit a moose going 90 on a highway, not only is your car trashed, you are probably trashed. I’ve seen cars that got wrecked and there seems to be a consensus that at least half the time, the giant fucking beastie just shakes itself off and continues gallumphing along the countryside.

If you fucking hit a moose with your car and their legs go through your windshield, congratulations, you are dead. Massive hooves kicking you to death? Yeah. 
Moose are fucking terrifying. Bull moose won’t fuck with you too much unless you fuck with them, but the time a bull moose casually swaggered his way past 7 year old me when I was sledding literally put me off winter sports for a solid month. 
Momma moose and their babies, though? I legitimately had to call in to work to be like “ey yo there is a moose in my driveway and I can’t get out” AND MY MANAGERS UNDERSTOOD.
Moose. MOOSE.

I have to admit I thought they were like a Canadian deer before this.

The commenter above who claims that moose’s eyes don’t reflect light is only partially correct; if you shine a flashlight in a moose’s eyes it will glow like a cat (and then you will probably get killed to death by an annoyed moose) but the reason they are so dangerous to cars at nights is that they are too tall for the headlights to reach. Think about that.

Moose confirmed for actual kaiju.


Kaiju category: Maple.  


Now I kinda want a kaiju movie set in Canada where it’s just a moose. Like a regular moose but more aggressive. 

@ssalogel

For scale, a female african elephant is 7.2-8.5 feet at the shoulder, according to Wikipedia. A moose is 

4.6 – 6.9 ft. at the shoulder. So instead of thinking “This animal is a bit bigger than a deer” you can think “This animal is barely smaller than an elephant”

And they can run up to 40 miles per hour


A 16 wheeler with fur

dynastylnoire: writernotwaiting: hellenhighwater: astolen98saturnsedan: luadell: thisnewdevilry: sputnikcentury: teapotsahoy: lov...

massive: Massive brain
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Massive brain

massive: Massive demand for this format has already been shown. Invest while it’s hot! via /r/MemeEconomy https://ift.tt/36rQDzk
massive: Massive demand for this format has already been shown. Invest while it’s hot! via /r/MemeEconomy https://ift.tt/36rQDzk

Massive demand for this format has already been shown. Invest while it’s hot! via /r/MemeEconomy https://ift.tt/36rQDzk

massive: Massive respect by Jacques443 MORE MEMES
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Massive respect by Jacques443 MORE MEMES

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Massive Respect for all unknown Gamers.

massive: Stagger Lee Shot First @elongreen People tend to dance around it, but conservatives liked AIDS; for years the plague was, from their perspective, killing the right people. 6:56 AM 02 Dec 18 2,267 Retweets 8,910 Likes Stagger Lee Shot First O @elongreen · 1d historical memory has turned their actions into negligence, but they we cheering the epidemic on. 27 164 1,207 6. realtransfacts: batsarentbugs: In the documentary, How to Survive a Plague they mention this very fact. Reagan was the president during this time and do you know what he did when the LGBTQ community begged him for help? He fucking laughed at us. His administration CELEBRATED that finally, ‘God’s judgement in the form of a plague’ was striking down queer people.  They saw it as a form of divine population control.  Reagan could have given a rats ass about us… Until the plague began to effect straight people. THEN his administration cared. Because the people that mattered were finally getting sick. And finally the millions of dollars in research money was poured into finding a treatment for HIV. But by then, so many LGBTQ individuals had died.  More people died from the initial HIV epidemic than the Vietnam war. So when straight people complain about being ‘oppressed’ and why there isn’t a straight pride parade? Go fuck yourself. No one has ever tried to wipe you out through a plague, ignored your cries for help as a disease wiped out massive amounts of your community. I haven’t watched the documentary, but I did read the book How to Survive a Plague. And I highly recommend that people read/watch it because it is very good/informational, as heartbreaking as it is.
massive: Stagger Lee Shot First
 @elongreen
 People tend to dance around it,
 but conservatives liked AIDS; for
 years the plague was, from their
 perspective, killing the right people.
 6:56 AM 02 Dec 18
 2,267 Retweets 8,910 Likes
 Stagger Lee Shot First O @elongreen · 1d
 historical memory has turned their actions
 into negligence, but they we cheering the
 epidemic on.
 27 164
 1,207
 6.
realtransfacts:

batsarentbugs:

In the documentary, How to Survive a Plague they mention this very fact. Reagan was the president during this time and do you know what he did when the LGBTQ community begged him for help? He fucking laughed at us. His administration CELEBRATED that finally, ‘God’s judgement in the form of a plague’ was striking down queer people.  They saw it as a form of divine population control.  Reagan could have given a rats ass about us…
Until the plague began to effect straight people. THEN his administration cared. Because the people that mattered were finally getting sick. And finally the millions of dollars in research money was poured into finding a treatment for HIV. But by then, so many LGBTQ individuals had died.  More people died from the initial HIV epidemic than the Vietnam war.
So when straight people complain about being ‘oppressed’ and why there isn’t a straight pride parade? Go fuck yourself. No one has ever tried to wipe you out through a plague, ignored your cries for help as a disease wiped out massive amounts of your community.

I haven’t watched the documentary, but I did read the book

How to Survive a Plague. And I highly recommend that people read/watch it because it is very good/informational, as heartbreaking as it is.

realtransfacts: batsarentbugs: In the documentary, How to Survive a Plague they mention this very fact. Reagan was the president during...

massive: Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix: The professor told his class one day: Today we will ex- periment with a new form called the tandem story The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As home- work tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that para- graph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another para- graph to the story and send it back, also sending an- other copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be ab- solutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and any- thing you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a con- clusion has been reached." The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary THE STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca) At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the second paragraph by Gary) Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. " Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the ####pit. (Rebecca) He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peace ful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Per- manently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news si- multaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and care- free, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully Gary) Little did she know, but she had less than 10 sec- onds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien em- pires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile en- tered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie. (Rebecca) This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvin- istic semi-literate adolescent. Gary) Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F-KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!" Gary) B*tch. (Rebecca) F K YOU-YOU NEANDERTHALI In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea. A+ Ireally liked this one. epicjohndoe: A Very Good Example Of ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’
massive: Here's a prime example of "Men Are
 From Mars, Women Are From Venus"
 offered by an English professor from
 the University of Phoenix:
 The professor told his class one day: Today we will ex-
 periment with a new form called the tandem story
 The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the
 person sitting to his or her immediate right. As home-
 work tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph
 of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that para-
 graph and send another copy to me. The partner will
 read the first paragraph and then add another para-
 graph to the story and send it back, also sending an-
 other copy to me. The first person will then add a third
 paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.
 Remember to re-read what has been written each time
 in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be ab-
 solutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and any-
 thing you wish to say must be written in the e-mail.
 The story is over when both agree a con-
 clusion has been reached."
 The following was actually turned in by two of his
 English students:
 Rebecca and Gary
 THE STORY:
 (first paragraph by Rebecca)
 At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea
 she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her
 favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded
 her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier
 times, that he liked chamomile.
 But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her
 mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating,
 and if she thought about him too much her asthma
 started acting up again. So chamomile was out of
 the
 second paragraph by Gary)
 Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of
 the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4,
 had more important things to think about than the
 neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named
 Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night
 over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he
 said into his transgalactic communicator. " Polar
 orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But
 before he could sign off a bluish particle beam
 flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through
 his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent
 him flying out of his seat and across the ####pit.
 (Rebecca)
 He bumped his head and died almost immediately,
 but not before he felt one last pang of regret for
 psychically brutalizing the one woman who had
 ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth
 stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peace
 ful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Per-
 manently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie
 read in her newspaper one morning. The news si-
 multaneously excited her and bored her. She
 stared out the window, dreaming of her youth,
 when the days had passed unhurriedly and care-
 free, with no newspaper to read, no television to
 distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at
 all the beautiful things around
 her. "Why must one
 lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she
 pondered wistfully
 Gary)
 Little did she know, but she had less than 10 sec-
 onds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the
 Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its
 lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy
 peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace
 disarmament Treaty through the congress had left
 Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien em-
 pires who were determined to destroy the human
 race. Within two hours after the passage of the
 treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for
 Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the
 With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated
 their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile en-
 tered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President,
 in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters
 on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the
 inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized
 poor, stupid Laurie.
 (Rebecca)
 This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of
 literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvin-
 istic semi-literate adolescent.
 Gary)
 Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered
 tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the
 literary equivalent of Valium. Oh, shall I have
 chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of
 F-KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an
 air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle
 Steele novels!"
 Gary)
 B*tch.
 (Rebecca)
 F K YOU-YOU NEANDERTHALI
 In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.
 A+
 Ireally liked this one.
epicjohndoe:

A Very Good Example Of ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’

epicjohndoe: A Very Good Example Of ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’

massive: space-pics: IC 1101. One of the most massive galaxies known, with approximately 100 trillion stars - taken by the Hubble Space Telescope
massive: space-pics:

IC 1101. One of the most massive galaxies known, with approximately 100 trillion stars - taken by the Hubble Space Telescope

space-pics: IC 1101. One of the most massive galaxies known, with approximately 100 trillion stars - taken by the Hubble Space Telescope