Tucked in for the night,⛼ waiting for the coals to settle for a late fire grilled dinner.
Photographer: Huck
https://www.instagram.com/kylefinndempsey/ regram
Xuebing Du

#extradirty

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Today's Document
EXPECTATIONS
Misplaced Lens Cap
Not today Justin
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Show & Tell
we're not kids anymore.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Jules of Nature
The Stonewall Inn

titsay

roma★

Love Begins
Game of Thrones Daily

Origami Around
d e v o n
seen from United States

seen from Greece

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Greece

seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Spain

seen from United Kingdom
@shard-duskie
Tucked in for the night,⛼ waiting for the coals to settle for a late fire grilled dinner.
Photographer: Huck
https://www.instagram.com/kylefinndempsey/ regram
The time has come the walrus said for destashing fiber things! I love making stuff; keeps my mind occupied, my hands busy, the brainweasels at bay, the usual. But after I make things I don’t tend to use or wear them. They end up in a bag, in a pile, in the back of my closet, and on some occasions all three. THEREFORE I am going to shove a bunch of stuff into the Etsy shop - but I’m giving y’all first dibs. Now, for those of you that have followed me for a while you know how I do this, but for folks who have forgotten or are new to Blisstopia, this is how I roll: It is very important to me that people have a proper understanding of fair pricing on handmade items. Therefore, for every piece I upload I do the Art Math of materials, time, and a decent hourly wage, and include what the price of the piece if I was actually trying to make a living off these works. It will probably give you some sticker shock. Single handmade items are not fast fashion, are not what the Industrial Revolution and capitalism have led folks to expect, and are priced accordingly. However: I am not currently trying to live off my thingmakery. Therefore, once you have seen a piece and seen what the price would be if I were actually trying to live off this, don’t just scroll away! Oh no. Do you like that piece? Do you want to wear it around your shoulders/neck/waist/whatnot or gift it to someone you know who would love it? Make me an offer. Make me an offer that, if I were trying to live off this stuff, would be downright insulting, if you want to. I mean, if you want to offer high in the name of appreciation and fairness and whatnot, I’m not going to say no. But unless the offer is barely going to cover materials and shipping, chances are good I’m going to accept. (I am also prone to accepting trades of cool shit, as well as payment plans. I am a Let’s Work Things Out kinda human.) So let’s start with the photos that kicked off the post! This shawl is crocheted from a silk and linen blend that had been consigned to life as a misshapen sweater, because silk/linen is not a kind of fiber that springs back into shape after it has gotten stretched out. I rescued it, unravelled the sweater, and made this shawl from the bulk of that yarn after it sat in my stash for nearly a decade. I did use someone else’s pattern, and I do not remember what that pattern is. I am terrible in this way. Anyhow, it is a gorgeous rich pink with a hint of peachyness to it, and a light openwork design that makes this excellent for spring and summer - a pop of color to top off or accent an outfit more than something meant to be covering or warming. Given the fiber and the time put into reclaiming it as well as the time for making the new garment, and assuming minimum wage for my location, if I were trying to sell this at a living wage it would run somewhere around $450-$500. …….breathe, pal, breathe. And if you love it, make me an offer.
In an ongoing fit of uselessness, I don’t rightly remember what fiber this shawl is made from; given the size and color, I am fairly certain that this was a one-off yarn I picked up from Webs to see if I liked it, and it is probably wool. Therefore if you have a wool allergy, be wary.
I got this yarn begause it really enjoyed the variegation from the deep maroon through red and a hint of purple to that dark, muted blue.
This is more of a shawlette, sitting comfortably on the shoulders and stopping right around the elbows for ease of movement - excellent to keep your upper body warm but your arms free for reading, working on a project of your own, anything at all.
An open work starburst pattern radiates from the back of the neck. The inner edges that meet in the front have an open work edging to accommodate thicker shawl pins if desired.
The hours and fiber put into this shawl would price it at around $300-350. But that’s not what you’re going to pay for it! Make me an offer.
Oooh, this one was so much fun to make! I really enjoyed the pattern that gives it the regular offset open work ovals in the body of the shawl, and it was one of the first times I delved into that elongated half moon or crescent shaped rather than a triangle.
This shawl is constructed in dark red and light grey yarn, both a blend of silk-alpaca that is marketed as being for weaving, but it’s my hot project and I do what I want. The resulting garment is physically light yet very warming and cozy.
The added length of being such a long crescent makes it easy to tie off in front of yourself or throw both ends over your shoulders; it can also go nicely around the waist or hips. Worn on the shoulders, it covers the upper arms and just a little of the forearms, depending on how snugly you wear it and how long your limbs are.
Due to the slender weight of this yarn it took longer than a comparably sized shawl in a thicker yarn would have. Were I to price it accordingly for time and materials, this one would rock up somewhere in the $550 to $675 range.
Isn’t that so wild? And totally not what I am expecting for it. Make me an offer.
LLLLLLLOOK AT THE SHAWL
I KNOW RIGHT?!
Would you believe it’s straight (hah) cotton? It is indeed. 100% cotton, plied by the manufacturer into this gorgeous multicolor gradient that was so pretty to look upon that the lack of stretch I was in cotton that usually bugs me didn’t bother me at all.
This is a light to medium weight shawl, good in warm to slightly cool weather, excellent in adding to an already vibrant outfit or throwing iver a LBD for a kapow of color. Also great with jeans and a tee shirt, tbh.
This would be priced in the $250-$300 range, but I’m sure you want to pay something different. Make me an offer.
“Bliss,” you might say, “this looks kinda similar to the last one.”
I know, right? Same yarn. Same yarn! Samehat.meme
Yet the differences are fairly distinct. Where the previous is a classic single pattern triangle shawl, this shawl is a long crescent with an open work top to lay like elegant fishnet along the top of the shoulders and upper back. Further down, as the gradient shift through orange toward yellow, the pattern changes to a tighter, more solid open work pattern. The green and blue edge finishes off not only with dimonds and pineapples, but the piéce de résistance: purple glass beads dripping from each edge point, finishing out the rainbow.
Same yarn, different working, and the addition of beadwork; this piece would get priced around $300-$350. Make me an offer and let me know how much you want to pay instead.
This is another one of those single skeins I picked up on a whim to see if I liked it. I did, and yet failed to make note of what brand it was, alas. I’m fairly sure it is alpaca or an alpaca wool blend, and I love the subtle variation in the green that gives it such a mossy look.
This is a small and simple shawl, probably a shawlette. It is light and warm, good for a cool day or night, but definitely wants a brooch or pin to keep it from escaping your shoulders. Alternatively it is a lightweight enough material to work as a kerchief or scarf as well.
This worked up pretty quickly and should probably be in the $150-$180 range. Make me an offer instead!
This is made in various colors of the same blend of silk and alpaca seen in the red and grey crescent shawl upthread. I’m pretty sure this shawl was an actual pattern and not simply me mashing together bands of interesting patterning all NOW KISS and whatnot, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what it’s called.
Light blue, light green, and light grey work together even better than I had expected, like sea glass and stones all jumbled together. It took a bunch of hours but it was definitely worth it.
This should get priced somewhere in the $600-900 range.
We’re not doing that. Instead, make me an offer. You’ll be surprised what I’ll say yes to.
Guess what this is made of. Go on, guess.
YES, silk and alpaca blend! What can I say? When I find a material I like, I go ham.
This was a fun experiment in a triangle shawl expanding only from one side. My starting point was actually the grey tip on the left hand side, when usually my shawls start at either the center tip or the nape of the neck, depending how it’s built.
This one probably would be in the $325-$375 range. But make me an offer that fits your budget, instead.
This is a fun one to wear deliberately askew, with one tail pulled across and pinned to the body/neck of the shawl on the opposite shoulder. Also good at the waist or as a scarf.
Have you been concerned or confused because you had yet to see any Skull Shawls? Worry no more! Not only does this one have all the screams skullsy goodness, but it also has some rainbow glitz as you can see in the closeup!
Pattern is Lost Souls by Marietta Roy, and it IS my favorite pattern to make, and we CAN cut a deal where I make you one, yes.
If you like this one, I’m happy to report it is a very comfy acrylic, so if you happen to spill somebloodthing on it you can toss it in the washing machine without worrying it will shrink or disintegrate.
It’s a $600 shawl if we are capitalisming in that way. We aren’t, though - make me an offer. Go wild.
This was yarn that someone gave my, and I LOVE the color. Very close to French Blue. But it’s an acrylic - not my fave to work with, TBH, and I struggled figuring out what I could make with it. Eventually, this came about!
A shawlette with an open work rob pattern radiating down from the neck, blooming into exorbitantly fancy pineapple motifs, small and then large, leading to an elegantly scalloped edge. This one was made from a bastardization and upsizing of a vintage doily pattern, I do believe.
This is another one that lends itself more toward Aesthetique than warmth; strongly recommended as something to throw on as an accent piece.
This should probably be in the $150ish range. But that simply will not do! Make me an offer, instead.
IT IS WINTER. DO YOU HAVE A SCARF. DO YOU NEED A SCARF. DO YOU WANT A SCARF. THIS IS A FUN CHUNKY YARN IN A PATTERN THAT ZIGS AND ZAGS AND ZIGS AGAIN. IT HAS THE SOFTEST POINTIES. IT IS A WIGGLY BOI AND AN LONG. IT WILL NOT COST YOU $107 - MAKE AN OFFER.
It an scarf!
It is less with the length than the last one. But large with the coze. It probably would have benefitted from a gentle iron-blocking before the pictures, to make it easier to see the running V down the length of the entire scarf. It also alternates solid sections with slightly open work sections. This was an original design that I have absolutely proceeded to not write down anywhere at all. 👀
I have a problem maybe.
Anyway, an originally design and in slender we yarn than the last scarf means this one took longer to make, and if I were pricing it to live on I’d be askin around $150-175.
But I’m not. Make me an offer!
Ooh this is such a fun one! Extremely soft grey acrylic, and breaking from the open front trends it is instead a poncho - of sorts. There is slight cowling to the neck, and it is fairly short across the chest, but lengthens around the sides to a long and pointy back. This is yet another garment that lends it well to keeping your back and shoulders warm, but leaving your arms free on any manner of cookery or makery you might need to keep to.
This is also one of my rare pieces of knitting, which is a slower craft for me than crochet, and I made it so long ago that the hours I put in are lost to, uh, time. Could be $225. Could be $600.
Shouldn’t be anywhere in that range though, because if you want it, you can just make me an offer!
Last but by no means least - this extremely fuzzy acrylic shawl is mildly massive and warm AF! It features a statement skull in the center back, a triangular concentric pattern that I designed as I went along, and delightfully frilly edges.
$300?! I think NoT!!! Make me an offer.
Get you a nice thing. You deserve it. 💜
How deep do you dare discount? DOOOOO IIIIIIIT
Signal boosting, but also I do not think Bliss will mind if I point this out:
Notice how much higher these prices are than what you find on Etsy (and probably cringe because omg those prices are so high)?
That’s because fiberworkers do not charge minimum wage. We can’t. We’d never sell a single piece.
The going rate by traditional fibercraft pricing is 2x to 4x the cost of material. The multiplier is determined by how complicated the pattern is and, sometimes, the color. (A lot of people charge more for all black because it is insanely difficult to work with.)
So the next time you see a $70 shawl on Etsy or at your local craft convention or Renfaire, and you cringe, and you think “that’s too expensive” or decide you’re going to ask for a discount….
….I want you to remember this post.
I want you to remember the numbers Bliss gave you for what these would cost just at minimum wage.
And when you decide that okay, maybe you will pay the $70?
I want you to fucking tip.
you know how most of the things humans use as spices are poisonous or repellent to most other mammals? and you know how anything vaguely d&d inspired has dwarves being way more poison resistant than even humans?
dwarf cuisine shouldn’t be bland, it should be unimaginably spicy and potentially harmful or fatal to humans. like green potato and rhubarb leaf salad with a festive garnish of yew berries and deadly nightshade berries, that kind of thing.
Concept: humans think it’s bland cuz rather than memorizing what kills humans it’s safer to just pass on the spices.
#‘should we add salt? everyone eats salt right?’#‘no that’s a rock there’s no way humans eat rocks
human: oh, so it’s a boiled potato with no seasonings, huh? and an extremely well-done cut of meat. also no seasonings. and a cup of tea with…. no tea in it. just some water. okay. thanks. it’s just like mom used to make.
dwarves, proudly: for dessert we put a handful of loose change in a pumpkin and we’re gonna roll it down a hill for you!
human: …….that’s….so nice of you.
I wonder if, in superhero universes, the villains ever get contacted by those “Make a Wish Foundation” and similar people.
I mean, the heroes do, of course they do, kids who want to meet Spiderman or Superman or get to be carried by the Flash as he runs through Central City for just thirty seconds.
But surely there are also the kids, who - because they are kids and sometimes kids are just weird - decide that what they really, really want is to meet a supervillain. Because he’s scary or she’s awesome or that freeze ray is just really, really cool, you know?
Oh, man, that would absolutely be a thing. The heroes would be so weirded out by it. The villains with codes of ethics would totally band together to force the villains without one (should they be the one requested) to do their part for the cause.
But imagine the person who has to track down the villains and organise everything?
Like, the first time it happens, no one actually thinks it’s possible, but one of the newbies volunteers to at least try. They get lucky, the kid wants to meet one of the villains who is well known to have a personal code of ethics (eg one of the rogues), and it takes them weeks to track the villain down to this one bar they’ve been seen at a few times, plus a week of staking out said bar, but they finally find them.
So they approach the villain, very politely introduce themselves and explain the situation, finishing with an assurance that, should the villain agree, no law enforcement or heroes will be informed of the meeting.
The villain, assuming it’s a joke, laughs in their face.
At this point, the poor volunteer, who has giving up weeks of their time and no small amount of effort to track down this villain, all so a sweet little girl can meet the person who somehow inspired them, well, at this point the employee sees red.
They explode, yelling at this villain about the little girl who, for some unknown reason, absolutely loved them, had a hand-made stuffed toy of them and was inspired by their struggle to keeping fighting her own and wasn’t the villain supposed to have ethics? The entire bar is witness to this big bad villain getting scolded by some bookish nobody a foot shorter than them.
When the volunteer is done, the villain calmly knocks back their drink, grips the volunteers shoulder and drags them outside. The bar’s patrons assume that person will never be seen again, the volunteer included. But once they’re outside, the villain apologises for their assumption, asks for the kid’s details so they can drop by in the near future, not saying when for obvious reasons. They also give the very relieved volunteer a phone number to call if someone asks for them again.
A week later, the little girl’s room is covered in villain merchandise, several expensive and clearly stolen gifts and she is happily clutching a stack of signed polaroids of her and the villain.
The next time a kid asks to meet a villain, guess who gets that assignment?
Turns out, the first villain was quite touched by the experience of meeting their little fan, and word has gotten around. The second villain happily agrees when they realise it’s the same volunteer who asked the other guy. Unfortunately, one of the heroes sees the villain entering the kid’s hospital and obviously assumes the worst. They rush in, ready to drag the villain out, but the volunteer stands in their way. The hero spends five minutes getting scolded for trying to stop the villain from actually doing a good thing and almost ruining the kid’s wish. The volunteer gets a reputation among villains as someone who can not only be trusted with personal contact numbers but who will do everything they can to keep law enforcement away during their visits.
The volunteer has a phonebook written in cypher of all the villain’s phone numbers, with asterixes next to the ones to call if any other villains give them trouble.
Around the office, they gain the unofficial job title of The Villain Wrangler.
The heroes are genuinely flabbergasted by The Villain Wrangler. At first, some of the heroes try to reason with them.
Heroes: “Can’t you, just, give us their contact details? They’ll never even have to know it was you.”
The Villain Wrangler: “Yeah sure, <rollseyes> because all these evil geniuses could never possibly figure out that it’s me who happens to be the common thread in the sudden mass arrests. Look man, even if it wouldn’t get me killed, it would disappoint the kids. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the kids would you?”
Heroes: “… no~ but…”
The Villain Wrangler: “Exactly.”
Eventually, one of the anti-hero types gets frustrated, and decides to take a stand. They kidnap the Villain Wrangler and demand that they give up the contents of the little black book of Villains, or suffer the consequences. It’s For the Greater Good, the anti-hero insists as they tie the Villain Wrangler to a pillar.
The Villain Wrangler: “You complete idiot, put me back before someone figures out that I’m missing.”
Anti-hero: “…excuse me?”
The Villain Wrangler: “Ugh, do I have to spell this out for you? Do you actually want your secret base to be wiped off the map? With us in it? Sugarsticks, how long has it been? If they get suspicious, they check in, and then if I miss a check-in, they tend to come barging into wherever I am just to prove that they can, even if they figure out that they’re not being threatened by proxy. Suffice to say, Auntie Muriel really regretted throwing my phone into the pool when she strenuously objected to me answering it during family time. If they think for even one moment that I’ve given them up, they won’t hesitate to obliterate both of us from their potential misery. You do know some of the people in my book have like missiles and djinni and elemental forces at their disposal, right?”
Anti-hero: “Wait, what? I thought they trusted you?!”
The Villain Wrangler: “Trust is such a strong word!”
Villain: “Indeed.”
Anti-hero: “Wait, wha-” <slumps over, dart sticking out of neck>
The Villain Wrangler: “Thanks. I thought they were going to hurt me.”
Villain: “You did well. You kept them distracted, and gave us time to follow your signal.” <cuts Villain Wrangler free>
The Villain Wrangler: <rubbing circulation back into limbs> “Yeah well, you know me, I do whatever I have to. So I’ll see you Wednesday at four at St Martha’s? I’ve got an 8yo burns unit patient recovering from her latest batch of skin grafts who could really use a pep talk.”
Villain: “… of course. Yes… I… yes.”
The Villain Wrangler: “I just think you could really reach her, you know?”
Villain: <unconsciously runs fingers over mask> “I… yes, but, what should I say?”
The Villain Wrangler: “Whatever advice you think you could have used the most just after.”
Villain: <hoists Anti-hero over shoulder almost absently> “….yes.”
The Villain Wrangler wasn’t lying to the Anti-hero. They know that the more ruthless villains would not hesitate if they thought for one second that the Anti-hero would betray them.
But this is not the first time the Villain Wrangler has gone to extreme lengths to protect their identities.
Trust is a strong word. The Villain Wrangler earned it, and is terrified by what it could mean.
My first official deadpool headcanon is this. This this this.
Okay but this whole concept actually makes a lot of sense, because villains are a lot more likely to be disfigured/disabled/use adaptive devices (bc ableist tropes), so of course, say, a child amputee is going to be more interested in the villain with a robot arm who almost destroyed New York than the heroes that took him down.
Also, imagine one of the kids gets better, and a few years down the line becomes a villain themself, except their crimes are things like smuggling chemo drugs across the border for families that can’t afford treatment, or stealing from corrupt businessmen to make donations to underfunded hospitals (idk this turned into a Leverage AU or something) and every time the heroes encounter her, they’re like “oh no. she’s getting away. curses. welp, nothing we can do.” Though it isn’t that she can’t take them on; bc of course once the villain from way back when found out what she was up to, he started helping/training her.
“I thought they just hired someone to dress up and pretend to be you,” she says, amazed, when he reveals himself. “I didn’t think they actually got the real you!”
Every year the Villain Wrangler gets a very expensive gift basket from the pair.
and for the kids who don’t get better the villains are there too, they show up to every funeral, they bear too small coffins on their shoulders and the heroes stand aside
they are fierce with grieving families assuring them that their child will not be forgotten, and they don’t balk at negative emotions, they don’t tell people to be strong or “celebrate their child’s life,” because these parents have every right to their grief and anger
and the lost children are never forgotten. flowers appear on graves during birthdays and anniversaries, heroes find pictures of those kids and they carefully take them down and ensure they’re delivered to the villain’s cell, and a few villains can be seen with friendship bracelets wrapped around their wrists the cops have learned not to try and take them off
And then one day, one of the evil geniuses who happens to specialise in inducing bizarre genetic mutations meets a young fan who was born with a rare genetic disorder that is slowly killing them, and realises that they can help.
Another, who created their own exosuit, talks to a young fan and suddenly understands how much the technology that they have built for themselves could revolutionise quality of life for people with muscular dystrophy, or paraplegia, or other disorders that confine people to wheelchairs with little mobility.
A third thinks of a way that their nanobots could be used to detect and remove cancer cells when their fan, who had been in remission, writes to say that the doctors have found a new metastasizing tumour.
Then shortly after, an evil genius specialising in cloning is contacted by an old colleague asking if a suitable heart couldn’t be grown for their young fan with a congenital heart condition who needs a donor.
Suddenly, a pattern of villains offering (and marketing) their insights and resources to improve medical science starts to arise. Many who had previously been operating on society’s fringes are shocked to receive public accolades, research grants and job offers from major companies because of their work.
A grassroots movement arises advocating for imprisoned villains with appropriate qualifications and/or experience to have access to resources to conduct research for the public good. The Second Chance Rehabilitation Project launches.
(It is an open secret that only people who have been vetted by the Villain Wrangler are allowed to join, because the Villain Wrangler has by now a meticulously set up method and intelligence network to run background checks and character references through ensure that none of the children wishing to meet their role models get hurt.)
Being able to say that one is involved with the Project begins to look really good in parole hearings. The Villains involved perform their own quality checks on one another, because if one of their kids got hurt, then all of their kids could potentially lose out, and the ones that are serious about the Project are not having that. (Also, the ability to collaborate with other geniuses is the most interesting thing to happen to most of them since losing to various heroes, and most consider the intellectual stimulation to be worth putting up with the ridiculous egoes and inevitable personality clashes that arise.)
Reformed Villains come out of the woodwork to advocate about better mental healthcare, and support systems. Savvy universities and private labs quietly take their advice, setting up better mental health supports and laboratory safety standards to prevent the Brain Drain caused by losing their less stable scientists to the Costumes.
The Villain Wrangler watches all of this develop with a smile.
Their plan succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.
@lanibgoode @knitmeapony
everytime this post comes around it gets better.
Treasure watched as Dr. Inferno began to unpack the small basket she had been carrying. She had assumed it would be bioweapons and technology but instead it contained bread, fruit, cheese, jam, and all the ingredients of a pretty nice picnic. “Um…” she said, looking around the vault “Is this really the best place for this?” Inferno shrugged. “Kid, I said I would do this. I did not say I would let it slow down my work. Do you know how to work a matter destabilizer?” “Um… no?” “Well, time to learn.” She passed Treasure a small rectangular object, with a hole on one side. “Do you see box 43?” “Yes…” “That’s the one with the microchip I need. Put the destabilizer against it. Plasma end towards it.” Cautiously, Treasure placed the object against the box. She couldn’t help feeling a slight surge of pride as Dr. Inferno nodded at her. “Now twist it,” she continued. Treasure did so, and there was a sudden flash of light and a smell of electricity. And, as she pulled the device away from the vault, she saw there was now a neat hole in it. “Wow…” she said, setting it down. “You built that?” “Oh, definitely,” said the doctor, reaching in and removing a small, black box. “Totally untested, though. I figured you wouldn’t mind seeing as you’re…” She caught the child’s expression. “But it was theoretically safe. Uh, want some food?” Treasure nodded, sadly, and sat down. Resignedly, she tore off some bread and started to spread jam on it. “So, kid,” Inferno said, sitting down opposite her, “can I ask…. why you picked me?” Treasure shrugged. Inferno continued. “It’s just…. No one’s ever really chosen me. That’s uh… I mean that’s kinda the point. When I first started my work, everyone thought I was… yeah, anyway, that was the start of this whole thing. So… what’s your angle?” “No one thought you were gonna make it, but then you did,” Treasure said, swallowing. “Huh. Thanks, but what does that have to do with-” “No one thinks I’m gonna make it either.” Inferno bit her lip. All of a sudden, she got it. “Frickin’ doctors, huh?” “Frickin’ doctors.” “Hey, kid. Say it with me. The fools.” “The blind fools…” “I’ll show them!” “I’ll show them all!” Dr. Inferno patted her on the back. “That’s right. You will. The two of us together, kid. We’ll show them.”
There are wild spiders on Lutoya, many of which I imagine are much like Earth spiders.
Pashuun refers only to the domesticated subspecies that have been the backbone of Lutoyan culture and economy for thousands of years. Different breeds are used for different purposes, but the most common are those raised on farms for their all-important silk and the materials derived from it. Their dense, sheet-like webs do not resemble the sticky orbs of their ancient Terran ancestors and are far less effective at trapping prey; these pashuun must be fed by hand.
Other pashuun are bred for different purposes. In places more sheltered from the wind than Iden’s childhood home in Lut, where it is safe to dwell above ground, some hybridized breeds of pashuun with sticky webs are used as screens in windows and porches to keep out flying pests.
Pashuun are not often eaten, but it is not completely unheard of. More commonly, they are used to harvest food—seasonal locust swarms land on catching-webs and are collected by children and eaten as festival food, though they are a staple protein source in other regions.
Other varieties of pashuun are used in the medical industry and for esoteric purposes. In a rare exception to the ban against offworld export of physical goods, Truthseekers occasionally travel with specialized breeds of pashuun designed for very specific purposes, such as the tripwire pashuun. Here is a description of such a tool in use:
Dear diary,
Hello! It’s me again. This will probably be my last entry before I burn you. I am writing in a new code today, but my maestro says that if my private thoughts were meant to be written down, they’d be made out of ink.
Last night we moved to Getigh. Oria says we’ll probably be here a month. It’s not the worst planet we’ve been to but we have to wear rebreathers even when we sleep so I hope we solve the case soon. I made Oria laugh today when I said I wished more unsolved murders happened on PH-1 worlds.
I got to set the tripwire for the first time tonight! It was REALLY cool. The diapause vials keep the pashu inside asleep until you break the seal. You have to dab target liquid over the places you want it to anchor or it won’t know where to web and will just keep searching and searching until it dies. Oria said I did a good job placing the targets even though she had to help me reach up high.
The pashu finished building the tripwire in ten minutes! That amazed me because it was even smaller than the hatchlings on the farm! Oria says all tripwire pashuun are male, but the target smells like a female.
You can’t even see the web now. It is invisible. Let me tell you the coolest part. The coolest part is that the silk is coated in poison. If somebody breaks into our apartment to kill us while we sleep they will bump into it. If the silk touches their bare skin, they will absorb venom and be paralyzed! Isn’t that cool? I hope we trap someone.
Well, I’ve got to go now. Getigh has short days and Oria wants me to practice lucid dreaming. I am sorry I have to incinerate you. It was nice talking to you. Goodbye!
Love, Iden Mudarra (age 10)
I had a dream that was set in some sci-fi future where I was a grad student on my way to a university on the other side of the galaxy. I bought passage on this huge one-star economy starliner with help from a group of wealthy wine moms who took pity on me when I couldn’t afford a ticket. Indebted to them, I stuck around and tried to be helpful, serving as their personal cultural anthropology consultant so that they could make friends with the other intergalactic passengers.
This was all well and good... until they turned out to be monsterfuckers. There was a species of xenomorph-like carnivorous aliens that wanted nothing to do with anyone else, but which were able to shapeshift through several different forms. The wine moms desperately wanted to hook up with them and kept shoving me towards them, giggling amongst themselves, saying, “Oh, please tell them we’re looking for casual fun, we’re experienced older women and we’ll show them a good time!” while I bemoaned the fact that this was not what I was going to university for.
I wish I had dreams about wine moms that want to hook up with aliens...
I don’t, it was like being an NPC in someone else’s sex dream.
how can you tell if a rabbit possesses the gift of prophecy or not
I want to win Best of Show at a 4H competition for prognosticating rabbits
Oh, good luck! The issue isn't actually whether they can tell the future-- all rabbits are clairvoyant to a certain degree. What you want to breed for is precision as well as clarity.
The current 4H show trials involve getting the rabbits to predict the outcome of a horse race (via nibbling alfalfa out of a cup with a picture of the winning horse on it). Many rabbits can predict the horses that will run well over the course of the racing season, but you want to breed for a rabbit that can predict a specific race in the immediate future. So, it's all about narrowing that window of vision.
That said, this is obviously the strategy for show rabbits. If you're aiming for the rabbit equivalent of the kwisatz haderach, you don't want to narrow that window of prognostication at all.
My chief concern is that heritable rabbit clairvoyance seems to be negatively correlated with vitality. Rabbits that are heterozygous for the prognostication gene (Pp) tend to be moderately clairvoyant but feeble and small in size, prone to anxiety and stress—their visions are vague and symbolic. Rabbits that are homozygous for prognostication (pp) tend to have visions that are both more accurate and more precise, but also display a failure to thrive; even when they do survive to sexual maturity, they are almost always infertile.
Which begs the question: is it animal cruelty to attempt breed prognostication into rabbits, if it reduces their quality of life so dramatically? I know some animal rights groups are lobbying to have clairvoyant rabbits barred from show. I doubt they will succeed since there is so much financial incentive to be made off breeding for clear, precise, and accurate rabbit prognostication... but I think we have to consider the ethical implications even if it remains legal.
One interesting study I read recently showed that rabbits bred to prophesize only in abstract concepts tend to be more healthy and hale than those trained on naturalistic variables like horse racing and weather patterns. The conclusion was that rabbits experience the most psychological distress when they understand the nature and content of their visions, but are nearly unaffected when the content has no meaning to them—suggesting a potential application in the stock market.
Reblogging especially for the deep dive into the ethics of breeding prophetic rabbits for show. It's an important issue that I don't see enough folks talking about. I wasn't aware of the vitality issue, and this post reminded me to get current with the science.
I think my main concern with the study you mention above-- if I'm thinking about the right one (A Sense of Impending Doom: Semiotic Stress Syndrome and Prognostication in Domesticated Rabbit Populations?) is that it was, like so many studies in this area, funded by an investment firm. I feel it's not unreasonable to suggest that they might have ulterior motives in encouraging breeders to focus their efforts on refining rabbit lines that foresee exclusively abstract concepts.
That isn't to say that more precise prognostication isn't stressful for rabbits; I'm just doubtful of the validity of the claim that abstraction is somehow better for them.
That is the study... I had no idea who funded it! Now that you mention it, I absolutely can see the ulterior motive in promoting the idea that rabbits can/should only be used for abstract prophecy. You don’t actually need a rabbit to issue clear or accurate prophecies about something like the stock market—you just need people to believe that it can, “leak” those supposed prophecies, and voila! they fulfill themselves.
I have also read that wild rabbits tend to produce only one prophet per warren, regardless of population size. Does that produced one likely pp kit were actually observed culling extraneous pp kits in the same and subsequent litters. You would think that having multiple prophets in a warren would be beneficial, but I guess rabbits have never read The Minority Report.
Absolutely, thank you for mentioning that! It's my hope that future studies of pp kits in the wild will expand to look at them in situ, in the context of their Warrens of Origin (WoO) and to consider the warren as a whole as a meta-organism, much as we already do with other eusocial animals, such as bees, wasps, or micro camels. I'm not necessarily suggesting that propheted warrens are unequivocally eusocial-- I suspect we may ultimately find that what's going on with does who birth pp kits is something closer to quorum sensing than true eusociality-- but I think that discounting the role of the WoO in the development of pp kits is simply reductive. Something to look forward to in future research!
Absolutely. AFAIK they still don’t have an answer as to why some warrens never naturally produce prophets while others produce them consistently. If it’s a caste in a eusocial metaorganism, why is it present in some but absent in others, seemingly unrelated to the wellbeing of the warren? They did some studies back in the 70′s (headed by Dr. Nadia Ardavan, i believe) to see if they could force spontaneous prophets by engineering catastrophes, but imperiled warrens performed no differently at producing pp kits than control groups. It precognition an evolutionary holdover or an emergent adaptation?
shoutout to paris hilton for not abandoning her ‘micropig’
when it turned out that it was a normal piggy who grew up to be a big fat fatty piggu
Actually that’s pretty standard size for a micro pig. Pigs are ENORMOUS, dude. The average pig on a farm is 7 feet long and over 700 lbs. A normal pig would be much bigger than Hilton.
EDIT: This is a photo of the world’s smallest recognized breed of pig, the kune kune. I’m sorry cartoons lied to you all.
This is the pot bellied pig, another famous “small” breed.
This is your average adult pig.
Big ole’ pigs.
Wild boars can feed people for a very long time! I believe this one was 1800 lbs. (largest piggy ever was about 1,984 lbs)
I NOW KNOW WHY WILD BOARS WERE SO DANGEROUS IN THE DARK AGES HOLY SHIT; RICHARD III I TAKE BACK ALL THE TRASH I TALKED ABOUT YOUR HOUSE CREST GOOD GOD THAT’S TERRIFYING.
Also, don’t let the size full you, they can run as fast if not faster then your average dog. Those fat pink fuckers will come for you!!!
PIGS ARE BIG
Also pigs are clever. Pigs are smarter than most dogs, and can even be trained to do tricks, just like dogs can.
Pigs are also renowned for being stabbed and just keeping going, which is why you don’t hunt boars with regular spears, you hunt them with boar spears. Boar spears have a kind of crossbeam behind the spearhead to stop said boar, now injured and enraged, running down the length of the spear and biting your head off. (Wikipedia says what I call a crossbeam is termed ‘lugs’ or ‘wings’, but you get the picture.)
So if you were coming across a wild boar in a forest, 1) it has tusks, 2) it knows no fear, 3) it’s probably smarter than you’re comfortable with, 4) it’s not that easy to kill with its thick hide and just its sheer size, so if you’re trying it on you’d better make it count, and 5) it’s big enough to eat you, and very well may attempt to do so if you’ve already attempted to kill it. Boars are ‘versatile omnivores’, not herbivores, and they can reach ‘brown bear-like sizes’.
There’s a reason we have an entire subgenre of English folk song about men attempting to kill wild boars. :)
AU where the clones and the droids unionize and collectively go on strike and stand threateningly around important government buildings until they get their rights
palpatine, skulking in his office: Why aren’t they shooting each other!?!?!
B-1 Battle Droid: HALT! who goes there?
Cody: oh shit droids
Rex: oh no
Droid: Clones! I must report this intrusion to Count Dooku!
Cody: NO SHIT WAIT
Rex: we’re…. uhhhh
Rex: we’re from the union
Droid: …
Droid: the union?
Rex: yeah, we represent the rights and interests of working soldiers throughout the galaxy.
Cody, catching on: so, buddy, are you happy with your current working conditions?
Droid: well, we, uh,,
Rex: does your employer treat you well?
Droid: *muttering* my software hasn’t been updated in two years
Rex, to Cody: *gasp* they don’t even get regular software updates
@meridiansdominoes
Rex didn’t ever think he’d feel… pity, for a battle droid, but he feels it now, because the droids are standing in front of him, confused (that’s the only normal thing about this whole situation), but strangely… hopeful.
“The… u-u-union?” the first droid repeats, tilting it’s head. The stutter sounds like some sort of voice-modulator glitch, especially if it’s true that the software hasn’t been updated for so long.
“Yeah, the union,” Cody drawls slowly, putting a hand on Rex’s shoulder. Rex can feel his brother’s mind working, calculating. “We’re in the same boat, clones and droids. We’re mistreated, unpaid, and fed up with it. Would you like to change that?”
If they’d been clones, they would have hesitated. Asked for more details. Thought it through, considered every option for a couple days. But they’re droids, and their processors whip through all of that faster than Rex can blink.
“W-what will it cost?” the first droid asks. Rex grins.
“Your processors, your help. We’ll have to team up. That means, no more Republic-seperatist shootouts.”
The droid stares at him for a moment, and then nods jerkily. Rex takes a step forward and offers it his hand. He isn’t expecting the droid to flinch backwards, hinges hissing in alarm, and then realizes with a start that the droid probably doesn’t even know what a handshake is.
“Here, wait,” he says placatingly, and reaches for it slowly, feeling another surge of that strange combination of pity and understanding. He uses his free hand to guide the droid’s metal fingers into his opposite palm.
“This is what sentient beings do when they greet people,” Rex explains gently, “or when they’re making an agreement. It’s a sign of friendliness, or trust.”
He shakes the loose limb and feels the droid’s grip tighten–too much, half comprehending, so Rex quickly extracts his hand before the droid can do any damage in the misunderstanding.
“Right, then,” Cody says with a grin. “Let’s get to work. What are you called, droid?”
It looks at them, glances back to it’s fellows behind them, silently watching. Waiting for it, the designated leader, to make a decision.
“RB-627.”
The answer makes Rex’s lip curl. It’s not exactly the same, because this is, after all, a droid, but it’s all too familiar at the same time.
“No, not that,” he responds. “That’s a number. We’re looking for a name.”
The droid whirrs. It sounds like it’s processor is struggling to keep up.
“Nn-nnname,” it repeats, glitching out again. “I have not–never–”
“Okay, it’s okay,” Cody reassures it. “We’ll call you Glitch, then. Until you can think of something better.”
The droid–Glitch–nods in acceptance, and Rex scowls because that easy acceptance and obedience isn’t desirable in anything sentient, not even droids, but there will be time to teach them how to think later.
“Let’s go,” he says and turns on his heel, still half-expecting to get shot in the back. He grins and shares a triumphant glance with Cody when he hears the clatter of a platoon of battle droids following them.
That sound has never before brought him so much hope, and this is just the beginning.
Oh my heart.
@fialleril
Y’all, I have had a revelation.
Millennials are tanks. We may look beat all to hell, and we pretty much are, but our function is to draw aggro.
I mean, think about it. We’ve been blamed for nonsense our whole lives. We have no power and yet kill industries. We’re simultaneously still regarded as children and yet also burdened with so many responsibilities. We’ve had to develop thick skins, because we’ve long been everyone’s favorite punching bag. The Boomers are the dungeon bosses and the Xers absolved themselves of responsibility long ago and half of the Zoomers are unwittingly parroting the Boomers because they’ve absorbed the idea that we’re ~the worst~ and that’s somehow hilarious to them. But, like, we’re not gonna change at this point. We’re a battered mess of a generation, but we’re doing our best against absolutely absurd odds and we’re gonna keep doing that.
So, fine. We’ll draw aggro. We’ll take the hits, because we’ve had time to build up armor, and the DPS Zoomer kids are new and squishy. We’ll draw aggro in the hopes that the DPS Zoomers will stop ragging on us in the chat long enough to take the shots we’re opening up for them. ‘Cause if they can land those, get in some well-placed hits, then we can finally defeat the Big Bads who, let’s not forget, will just as happily crunch dexterous Zoomer bones as toughened Millennial skin.
And maybe, just maybe, the generation behind them will eventually stroll in with a really great healer.
A single mom moves into a new apartment with her young son, only to find out it’s inhabited by a poltergeist. At first she’s spooked, but comes to realize that the poltergeist is helping to raise her son.
I’d watch it.
It’s like ‘The Others’, except that everyone just kind of… gets used to seeing each other. There are two families sharing one house, and okay, one family is a bit dead, but they’re all figuring things out as they go and it’s super handy to have a spare parent or two around.
*
“Mom, I’m home!”
“She’s out shopping, go do your homework.”
“Aunt Ingrid, they didn’t even HAVE homework when you were alive, why are you BUGGING me - “
“When I was alive we churned butter instead of our mother going to the store to buy it, do you want to learn how to churn butter?”
“Fine, okay, homework it is.”
*
“David, don’t walk through the walls.”
“Opening the door is too hard.”
“Then walk through the DOOR like your sister. Respect the conventions at least.”
“Fiiiiiinnne…”
*
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Fixing the fence.”
“Uncle Roger, are you possessing my mom?”
“We tried just having me tell her how to do it, but it was taking too long and she got frustrated.”
“It’s WEIRD, though.”
“Do you want to do this?”
“No, I - “
“Too late. Come and learn how to fix this. You’re the man of the house now.”
“NOBODY SAYS THAT ANY MORE, UNCLE ROGER.”
*
“Did you have a fight with David?”
“No.”
“Then why are you both making that face?”
“There’s no FACE.”
“That’s what he said.”
“We didn’t have a FIGHT, okay…”
“Aunt Ingrid is worried, she says he’s been moping all morning. He’s barely visible half the time.”
“Look, we didn’t have a fight, I just asked him how he died and then it got weird.”
“STEVE YOU DO NOT ASK PEOPLE HOW THEY DIED THAT IS SO RUDE.”
“Mom, it came up, okay, it wasn’t just out of nowhere!”
“YOU APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW.”
*
“Steve! David! Isobel! Who broke this vase?”
“Meteor did it.”
“It was not the dog! Which one of you was throwing things in the house?”
“No, really, Mom, it was Meteor.”
“And how did the dog get up on the mantlepiece?”
“Uh…”
“ISOBEL WERE YOU LEVITATING THE DOG AGAIN?”
*
“This is completely inaccurate.”
“Roger…”
“I mean, look at those clothes. I’ve never seen *anyone* dressed like that.”
“They weren’t very careful about accurate costuming in these old movies.”
“I read ALL the Sherlock Holmes stories when they were first published and I ASSURE you he was a GENTLEMAN, not like - “
“Roger, will you just let us watch the moving pictures in peace?”
“But they’re WRONG.”
“We don’t care. Shush.”
*Roger mutters about bossy women and levitates popcorn*
*
“Steve, what happened to your face?”
“I got into a fight.”
“I would surmise from your bruises that you lost.”
“I always lose.”
“Oh, we can’t have that! Come, I will teach you the manly art of fisticuffs.”
“ROGER NO.”
*
“Aunt Ingrid, can you teach me how to make pie?”
“Of course I can… why? I know boys do a lot of things now that girls used to, I understand that, but why pie?”
“I like pie.”
“I can make you a pie if you just want to eat pie.”
“… Ava likes pie too.”
“That girl who lives down the street?”
“Yeah…”
“Then I’ll help you make the pie. What kind?”
“She likes cherry.”
Aw man, I almost made it wikout tears til the last one.
You know what I was thinking of? I never see historical fashion for fat people like me. It's all skinny flappers and small waisted Victorians. Unless it's someone who was famous or a man, it seems no one cares to show what the average fat person wore in the past.
Most fat people just wore a sized up version of skinny people’s clothing. For most of history a silouette was really the important part more than arbitrary unpadded measurements. Anything you’ve heard otherwise is a…hmm what’s the word I’m looking for, a miss representation. What I mean is, most people wore literal padding to achieve a look, they didn’t manipulate their natural bodies like we do now, they added material to achieve the silouette. Nothing about this directly excludes fat bodies. For most of history fat clothes was just like I said, skinny clothes sized up and capable of holding the same padding.
I hear about the 30 inch waist ideal for some time periods but that’s the thing, it’s the ideal, not a reality. Most existent surving dresses are “smaller” because fat people wore their clothes out, repurposed them into new fashions and decades, like most people did. Our survivors bias is weird like that. I was thinking about sharing some videos from some historical YouTube’s and this is a good a reason as any.
The funny thing is that the “small waisted Victorian” was actually a COMPARATIVE thing. The victorian (and Edwardian) ideal is a waist that’s 15-10 inches smaller than the bust.
If you look closely at a lot of Victorian imagery (esp the adult China dolls) you’ll find a LOT of double chins – at least for women. The ideal woman was (and this is sexist as hell but) a successful mother and a successful mother was rounded and plump from multiple pregnancies.
Anyway, a really cool image I have is an ad from the Victorian era that really shows how ideals have changed;
As far as the clothing goes: a LOT of what we have left are the garments of young, rich women (like, premarriage age) and garments from special occasions – so debuts, weddings, special parties – because, like how a lot of women now will put aside their wedding dress, a well off young woman may have a dress made for a special occasion and never wear it again whereas most daily wear (much like with fat folks now) was worn until it fell apart.
Anyway, here are also some images of fat Victorians (sadly mostly women, I couldn’t find like any men that weren’t like, freak show photos which are kinda demeaning so not included)
I included the image with the group of women because look at that body type variety!
Also, Enchanted Rose Costumes on YouTube is a LOVELY plus size historical costuber and I highly recommend her!
Lovely addition!
“My time has come” I whisper as I open my image folder. Sadly none as cool as the lady balancing the teacups on her chest.
It should be illegal or something to sing “This Land Is Your Land” without the secret verses
You took one of the greatest hobo anthems ever written and turned it patriotic. That’s basically a war crime.
Secret verses??!??
At the beginning:
As I went walking that endless bread line My landlord gave me a 2-week deadline And Labor Action ran a better headline: “This land was made for you and me!”
This land is their land, it isn’t our land From the plush apartments to the Cadillac car land From the Wall Street office to the Hollywood star land This land is not for you or me
So take your slogan and kindly stow it If this was our land, you’d never know it So let’s get together and overthrow it ‘Cause this land was made for you and me
And then in the middle:
As I went walking, I saw a signpost And the sign said “No Trespassing!” But on the backside, it didn’t say nuthin ‘Cause that side was made for you and me
Holy shit.
American folk singer Woody Guthrie, who wrote other songs such as Tear The Fascists Down, All You Fascists Bound To Lose, Miss Pavlichenko, and like 6 tributes to Sacco and Vanzetti, was what you might call a “communist”
Dunno where the person above got those lyrics, but those aren’t the omitted ones. These are the original lyrics:
There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me. The sign was painted, said ‘Private Property.’ But on the backside, it didn’t say nothing. This land was made for you and me.
One bright sunny morning in the shadow of the steeple, by the relief office I saw my people. As they stood hungry, I stood there wondering if God blessed America for me.
He wrote this song as a sarcastic clap back to “God Bless America”, as he traveled on the rails West, during the Great Depression. He kept hearing it play on the radio and hated it.
He was pretty much bullied into removing those lyrics because he was told he would be punished as a communist pre/during the Cold War.
Indeed.
The OP’s “secret verses” (“As I went walking that endless bread line”) aren’t by Guthrie, they’re from The Bosses’ Songbook, “a satirical songbook compiled in 1959 by Dick Ellington and Dave Van Ronk, both of whom were leftists and folkies, which parodied various left-wing classics”. So basically this version is by anonymous, that great and prolific artist. In the 1960s, students of the City University of New York would sing it in Washington Square.
(Small tangent on those crowds in Washington Square:
“We cannonballed into New York on good ol’ US 1, Till up ahead we saw the arch, a-gleamin’ bright in the sun. As far as all the eye could see, ten thousand folks were there, And singin’ in sweet harmony right in Washington Square.
Say, how’s about a freedom song, or the ol’ Rock Island Line? How’s about the dust-bowl crop, or men who work in a mine? The songs and legends of our land is gold we all can share, So come and join us folks who stand and sing in Washington Square.” )
This is perfectly normal for folk, and doubly so for protest songs. You’re pretty much supposed to adapt and remix, add/remove verses, make it topical, or even make it silly. It’s not like Guthrie and Seeger and everyone sang “This land is your land” the exact same way every time.
My favourite recording is by Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, from 2005, private property verses included. It slaps.
fake relationship but its a king and his concubine that was once an amazing soldier but he couldn’t go up the ranks for whatever reason so the king was like listen. hear me out. you can be my strategy dude. u just gotta be okay w walking around shirtless a lot. and soldier dude is like man that’s an UPSIDE and yknow they end up falling in love
some idiot advisor: I can’t believe his majesty lets his boytoy attend these council meetings, it’s an insult to the noble institutions that uphold our nation, it’s an outrage—
a somewhat smarter advisor: you’re just mad bc he pointed out how dumb your naval attack strategy and no one laughed when you made a mean joke about him
Boytoy has gone from a top fighter who was well respected but in constant danger to wearing silks and eating grapes on daises. That fucked up rotator cuff was the best thing to ever happen to him
Bonus points: at least half the other concubines are experts in assorted fields, the monarch brings them to relevant meetings to both play up a reputation for frivolity, and make sure at least one person there doesn’t have an outside agenda.
my harem?
did you mean: my chief strategic advisors
The kingdom is an absolute monarchy but the harem has become a secret meritocracy. The nobles and official advisors kind of side-eye His Majesty because wow some of these consorts must have like…really good personalities. Kings of the past have had their own specific tastes of course; size, shape, age, color, et cetera. More than one ruler has interviewed consorts feet first and Ardwin the Adventurous’s obsession - God rest him - with snuffling armpits like a sow rooting for mushrooms is well known despite never being alluded to in polite company.
The worst part of it is that the new king takes at least part of his harem with him everywhere and it’s so embarrassing. The Counselors of War have never once met with His Divine Majesty without that hulking battle-scarred consort interrupting with muttered growls or scornful snorts. And the Ministers of Finance all flinch at the sight of that fox-faced one, rumored to have been rescued from the gallows because His Augustness took a fancy to his eyes or some such nonsense. General petition days are even worse, with practically the entire harem drifting in and out of the Grand Hall in turns, insouciant and smug like granary cats who know they’ve been given full run of the courtyards and barns.
It’s absolutely infuriating that the kingdom has never before known such a period of peace and prosperity under this ridiculous monarch.
Tag to this - the biggest secret is the Queen who runs the Kingdom’s spy network. It’s the envy of all the other Kingdoms around, and not a few nobles! Not ALL of the Kingdom’s Diplomats are spies. But many of their servants are. The Queen grew up as a neglected child, and she learned how servants are ignored, but who always know everything that goes on. Many of the spies are like the Queen - beautiful and seemingly vacuous. The sp[ies tend to have great fun, and also work closely with the Concubines
#everyone is furious when the king picks his bride #a minor princess! of a minor ally! she’s not even that pretty or smart or anything! #but at least when the king marries her he’ll have to get rid of his harem #or at the VERY LEAST stop FLAUNTING them everywhere #if nothing else her family will object to this insult to her honor
#BUT THEN
#somehow she’s befrIENDED THE CONCUBINES
#sometimes they follow HER around!! in public!!
#the king and queen are s h a r i n g t h e h a r e m
#never has the court been so furious and scandalized all at once #it’s a genuine shock to all of them when ten years later no one has even once tried to overthrow the royal family #(they’re wrong there have been no less than thirty attempted coups twelve of which nearly succeeded) #(but the harem and the spy network are VERY good at their jobs)
@thebibliosphere
Reverse socks
my hand slipped :)
OK I know none of you followed me for this but please just let me have this one
This post is a masterpiece
why’re giraffes so violent
most big herbivores are, frankly. if you have a pretty steady supply of food and don’t have to worry about missing a hunt and starving to death, you can afford to throw your weight around more and generally be more aggressive!
that’s why the most dangerous big animals in the world are almost all herbivores.
this is also why walking right up to these things in Jurassic Park would have been a fantastically bad idea
Sauropods would be fucking TERRIFYING and it annoys the hell out of me that media constantly portrays them as passive and harmless. That Indominus from Jurassic World would have been SLAUGHTERED against an Apatosaurus, let alone a whole HERD of them
- @cappucino-commie
Ok but, bringing it back to sauropods, people dont really understand just HOW terrifying they were First, size. And yeah most people understand that sauropods were bit, but it really needs to be reinforced just how big they were.
This is Camarasaurus lentus, around 15 ish meters and over 16 tonnes, for reference sake, the largest african elephant bull EVER recorded was 11 tonnes. pretty decent difference right? Well, except one thing. This is a SMALL sauropod. Want to see a large one?
Yeah, you’re reading that right, 53 tonnes. Almost five times heavier than the largest recorded african elephant ever. And they get even larger.
This bastard was last estimated at 73 tonnes, the largest animal ever to walk the earth. And they didn’t just get big, they got l o n g, too
That right there, is BYU 9024, it (among with a few undescribed remains) shows an animal in the size range of 40+ meters, this one here clocks in at around 40, and the funny thing is? this is the *conservative* estimate, larger specimens are not unreasonable in the slightest. It’s not quite as heavy as the big south american bastard above it, but at 67 tonnes, its close.
Secondly, speed. We’ve all seen it, lumbering behemoths that were dumb as rocks and probably about as fast, with a tailwind, going downhill. Well…. Not really, the latest studies done as of Asier larramedi’s sauropod facts and figures book gives some… Horrifying estimates.
I’ll spare you the complete explanations, there will be a paper out soon that goes into greater depth, but I’d like to draw your attention to the speeds, specifically fo the animal called Giraffatitan. Most people are familiar with it in some way, shape or form, but to clear up what exactly Giraffatitan is.
They’re not the small ones in the foreground, they’re the big ones in the back. 33 tonnes of pure muscle, moving at 25 kp/h. Again, to provide further reference.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUE304bqwQc THIS is how fast that is. It’s a house running at you, forget a hippo charging you, this would be a tidal wave of flesh and hatred bearing down on you.
And finally, weapons.
Like someone earlier pointed out, Apatosaurus should have absolutely trounced the indominus, because quite frankly at such a size anything you do will hurt. Kicks with the front or hind limbs will be utterly devastating to anything except another of their kind, but Apatosaurus had another thing going in its favour.
One thicc-ass neck. Pictured here with speculative keratin spikes on the bottom, whilst the spikes are speculation, the neck itself would have essentially functioned like a fleshy battering ram, capable of pulping ribcages and smashing anything that could have “preyed” upon them. But that’s not even the most terrifying thing, though this is not specific to Apatosaurus itself, but to all diplodocoids (Apatosaurus, Barosaurus, Diplodocus, etc.) Specifically, the tail.
This is Diplodocus, as you can see, this animal is half tail, as you might also be able to see, the latter half of that tail tapers down to what can, in all essence be described as- a whip. A serrated whip, powered by some of the largest muscles in the largest animals that would have walked on earth. But it gets even MORE horrifying.
You see, there have been studies that have come to a conclusion, and though there are those that have doubted them, I personally have looked at the papers and found merit to the theories.
Well, I’ll not hold you in suspense any longer.
The tips of these tails, could have, and would have broken the sound barrier. Yup, you heard that right, and as soon as that fact begins to seep in, you’ll realize the horrifying implications. A diplodocoid whipping its tail, would blow out the eardrums of any animal close by and unfortunate enough to draw its ire, the sauropod itself would possibly not come out unscathed, but when you can literally give a would-be predator internal hemmorages by, what to them would be essentially like snapping a finger, the benefits begin to outweigh the risks involved. And that’s not even mentioning what would happen if it HIT anything, an impact at such velocity, with such mass driving it would be- quite frankly? Devastating beyond words. Flesh wouldn’t just tear, it wouldn’t just break skin or bones, flesh would MELT, bones would shatter, if not simply cease to be. And this is on a sufficiently sized animal such as Allosaurus or Torvosaurus. On a human? They would be ripped in half. So yeah, Sauropods get shafted in popular media to an extent that isn’t even possible, if you think hippo’s are scary, imagine something fourty times its size, faster than you, and able to kill you without even touching you. Sauropod are kaiju, plain and simple.
The babies were really cute though. This is andrew, and he’s a baby… the size of a horse. If you want to know just how tiny they began, this is probably a good reference.
Yeah, the largest animals ever to walk the earth started out life at about the size of a dachshund. Eat your greens everyone.
hold on a fucking second. delaware is a state?? i thought it was a river? or is the river more important than the state? why don't i know this? (i should mention i don't like in america, i'm just confused)
there is delaware (state) and delaware (river)
both are equally strange
the state is a tiny little cryptid thing
the rive is a monster that spans new york, pennsylvania, new jersey and delaware. also washington crossed it once and that was like kinda a big deal i guess. like crossing the rubicon in rome.
the state tries to me more important with its “im the first state!!!” bs (seriously its even on the fucking license plates) but we all know. its the river.
THATS TUPPERWARE
i thought delaware was a place in ohio? why are there so many things named delaware?
delaware is too powerful
what the fuck
Wait what? I thought Delaware was a store with building supplies. Like paint, wood, nails and stuff?
THATS HOME DEPOT ???
I know home depot, but dude I don't know anything about America mad have never been there. Are you sure there is not a some sort of store called something close to Delaware!?!
.....ace hardware....?
this post has only been around for a few hours but could very well be a world heritage post
but at what cost
This post launched at 8am PST on 12 Feb 2021. The above conversation has happened in 3 hours.
he WHAT? i thought he was from. w. wait. ???
delaware stole the presidents shoelaces for clout and became too powerful
From the UK- and what do you mean Delaware isn't a type of ceramic?
it is now
@hellsite-hall-of-fame is it too early?
Isn’t delaware what they make computers on???
software ??
I think they meant Dell Ware, a specific computer type. We had a Dell computer once.
I thought Delaware was that famous singer they spoofed in Zootopia.
gazelle??
oh i thought delaware was that one british singer lady, you know, the one from chasing pavements
that's fucking adele
isn’t delaware that place you go when you die
youre thinking of superhell and all of you are going there
how the fuck did any of you come to the conclusions you all made
we live in america?
I thought Delaware was that food delivery service that keeps interrupting youtube videos with their ads when I'm trying to have a good time
..... are you talking about Doordash???
Isn't Delawere the name of that one girl in the song that goes "Hey there, Delawere"? She's from NYC or something.
THATS HEY THERE DELILAH
Pausing here to point out that op is “dear-AO3″ and now I’m wondering if Delaware fanfic would be categorized as RSF (real state fic) or AU (alternate unitedstates)
stop i do not want to think about this
Isn’t Delaware that SPN ship that exploded the internet
Everyone on this post:
I love that the “no, that’s [x]” meme is making a comeback here and only here and nobody has any idea what’s going on
Keep up the good work, we can make poor OP have a melt down yet.
Isn't delaware that one brand of pizza that's like "it's not delivery, it's delaware."
isn't delaware the god of the sea
Isn't Delaware the name of that guy who painted the Mona Lisa?
delaware is that one evil cyborg guy that has a son named Luke and a red laser sword
Thats Darth Vader. Im pretty sure Delaware is that other red-laser sword guy. You know. The one that stabbed Qui-Gon.
what have i created
I usually only reblog older posts, but this definitely deserves to be in every tumblr hall of fame
this post has only existed for 8 days.
This is fantastic because it goes great with my theory that Delaware only exists for tax purposes. Like, all the states really only exists for Tax Purposes, but Delaware is particularly fake because back in 2012 I got lost in the Alleged Delaware Area looking trying to get to a family reunion, but every time I pulled over for directions, I would ask what the hell state I was in now, and I went through Mayland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey AND Virginia and I never fucking found Delaware but I did eventually find the Family Reunion and earned the repsepct of my then-prospective- Great-Grandmother-In-Law by saving her favorite grandchildren from a furious oceangoing horse so I’m convinced that not only is the state a purely legal construct, they didn’t even dedicate any landmass to it, or it’s a gov’t blackzone where the carnivorous horses live.