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#fishing fail
gianluc30 · 2 years
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Catch!!!!!!
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itsreaditandwow2 · 3 months
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I thought I would come out fishin', but I ain't havin' no luck. 'Cause I brought my stupid-ass grandson, and he is stupid as fuck.
Judy Jennings (Angry Grandma)
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robbiefishing · 7 months
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Tipped Out Of My Kayak While Fishing At Lake Buffalo
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I tipped myself out of my kayak while fishing.
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frodo-a-gogo · 7 months
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Let us be brutally honest with ourselves and with eachother for a moment. If he weren't obese you motherfuckers would be capable of percieving evrart claires sexy sexy moral ambiguity and complex charms
#i am (lesbian) sipping him like a fine DESSERT WINE#my evidence by the way is very simple and very damning. joyce messier. there i said it.#if you guys can appreciate the fact that Joyce is a complex figure worthy of disgust yes but also worthy of empathy#despite being a venal coward facilitating acts of violence and slaughter of the organized working poor of martinaise in the name of capital#if you can understand that she is a dimensional figure while also being an embodiment of the moral apathy and cruelty if capital owners#but you cant look at evrart and see that he is (while deeply flawed and morally suspect) also a dimensional figure#on top of the fact that his motivations are eminently relatable and dare i say it baser#and his greatest failing imho is in failing to advocate for the interests of *all* the poor of martinaise#opting instead to marginalize the inhabitants of the fishing village in favor of a power grab in the interests of himself and his union#though this is imo a bit of a grey area morally. undeniably a wrong and bad thing to do but done in service of clairs political goals#to gather power to advocate for the working class against ultraliberal monoliths like wild pines and fascistic orgs like krenel#still super wrong but i can follow the moral arithmetic there tho i don't like it#but like my point is if u can see that joyce is evil and pathetic but still cool and sexy but you consider clair flatly distasteful#thats cus hes not conventionally attractive#cus he is *every bit* as dimensional and interesting as joyce and he is not nearly as politically shite even if hes interpersonally a jerk
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lilmeowmeowmagic · 1 month
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one of my paleontology professors just went on a 20 minute rant on how humans and other tetrapods are inferior to modern fish because "We spend half our lives making swimming pools and being in the ocean to get back to where we once were but we just don't have what it takes."
we really are just glorified lungfish and he then ended on the rawest line "it's all we carry, the shame of our history in our bones"
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077891st · 5 months
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trying to remember how to draw again 🐠
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mechagender · 8 months
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i hate finding caches with everything in me
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sombertide-0 · 4 months
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i had coelacanth on the brain
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voidedjuice · 7 months
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It's Didi birthday so have some doodles :)
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
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Prompt 278
You know what I’ve gotten obsessed with and inspired by? Dredge. 
You know what is also fun? Merfolk. What’s even better? Lovecraftian corrupted merfolk. Especially if say, one goes with the Lazarus Waters being a form of ectoplasm. So, in this? Lazarus waters are like lakes, while Amity Park, thanks to the Portal, and the barriers? It is an entire sea. 
There are islands, small areas that were once the tips of buildings that have gathered more landmass around them. There are mangroves, trees not like anything on earth or anywhere else stretching up in canopies dark enough to block out the sun, yet lit by the green waters. 
It goes deep. Mariana Trench deep, despite it being impossible. The GIW have explored for caves or tunnels, they’ve tried to find some sort of explanation, but there isn’t one. 
Now all that ecto? That has an effect on people. They mutate, they change, they adapt. Anywhere else would have been a slow death- something the GIW might have even been counting on. But Amity Park? It was founded by witches, it was the hotspot for the supernatural, even before the Fentonwork Portal. They’ve been dealing with this sort of energy in microdoses from the moment they first began to live in the city in any generation. 
But they begin to adapt. Shift into something… other. Some stay contaminated, clinging to human forms as they form homes on the tiny islands, fishing and farming what they can. Others become Liminal, almost seeming to meld with fish, some similar to ones of the Living and others something just to the left. Similar yes, but not quite… right. And then there are those that have truly melded with the energy of the dead, forms torn asunder by it, ripped apart and made anew by it. 
The first sign back when the barrier was activated, when they could no longer leave and were trapped were the fish in the lake. And now they are the same, with gazes of something Else, with gnashing teeth and a hunger gnawing at where hearts once were. 
But they aren’t monsters. They’re still themselves. Just a little… Other now. 
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maiaczy · 7 months
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It isn't Mermay yet, but could you draw Mista as a merman? XD
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Mermista with his fish friends
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sentientstump · 1 year
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And now i try again my hand
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At taming ghosts and counting sand
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ruzhuzhu · 16 days
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increasingly silli fishe drawn at uni
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haikyuu-moments · 2 months
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the way both tsukki and yams thought of the same image 😭😭😭
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kageyama fish: the salmon of volleyball 😆
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sleep-nurse · 2 months
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remember null? well after lore progression and violence he regained his true self now
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say hi to narrow (or, nicknamed by hana, anguria which means watermelon in italian)
lore rambling in the tags because i'm not assed to write it here
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angelbitezzz · 5 months
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Recently read Tilikum by Llama_Goddess on Ao3 (check out the link it's so good) and it gave me some interesting brainrot ideas
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Fic under the cut
A day dawned like any other for Sans. Get out of bed, work various odd jobs, slack off at said odd jobs, and get home to sleep some more.
Today was a new gig—Janitor work at the local aquarium. It was good, easy work. He'd been all sorts of things in his time both underground and now on the surface, so he was largely left to his own devices practically since the first day.
Some kid spilled one of those themed ice creams on the floor in front of one of the siren tanks. Big attractions, those guys. Not quite human, too physical to be a monster, they sort of floated in this odd in-between state of natural existence. Word was that the song of one would easily lead you to your drowning death. It was a good thing that glass was thick and soundproof, otherwise any of the ones held captive would likely jump at the chance.
Sans mopped away at the spill slowly, dragging out the task. The place was closing for the night soon, he certainly didn't want to be redirected to something else when he had such an easy job right here. A whistle leaked from between his teeth, some song he'd heard on TV earlier in the day.
The room was empty now. With the evening settling in and closing time within the hour, no one had come by to this one since he'd gotten here. Probably since this specific siren didn't seem a fan of performance, or being seen. You were lucky to get a glimpse of it if it was feeling curious on a given day, or so Sans had heard.
He wrung the mop in the bucket and set about just mopping the entire room, still whistling away. But a chill ran up his spine, halting his movements.
The unmistakable, burning feeling of being watched.
He turned his head slow, pupils sliding up along the glass he stood next to until they connected with a bright purple gaze that seemed to peer right through him.
The siren.
It—She? She floated right there, hand pressed against the glass. Her pupils were blown wide open, though they dilated just a little when their eyes met properly. There was something curious about the look on her face, so human if not for the subtle shine of fine scales along her brown skin. Dark hair drifted around her face, some kind of kelp braided into it at certain spots, that same stuff even braided and tied together to make up the cloth she was wearing around her chest. Did sirens care for modesty? He didn't know. Her lower half was that of a fish, something tropical he hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Powerful muscles twitched the end of the tail, keeping her afloat in the same position with ease.
He wasn't sure when he'd stopped breathing. It seemed like time itself had stopped when he realized he was being watched. Was this typical of sirens? Did the gaze of one paralyze as much as the song?
No, that couldn't be the case. Otherwise they wouldn't bother with displaying them at all.
When he didn't react behind meeting her gaze, she seemed to relax just a little. Her eyes slid along his form, taking in the details of his Janitor's uniform and the bones that were visible.
"huh. you're, uh, curious, i guess?"
Sans wasn't sure why he was talking, it wasn't as if she could hear him. But the way his eternal grin moved with the speech seemed to fascinate her. She lowered herself to be more at eye level, both hands against the glass. He slowly put his mop back in the bucket and turned towards her, tugging at his gloves to pull them tighter before stepping closer. The siren didn't move, only followed every movement with that same burning gaze.
"heya." Sans gave a little wave, the way the kid had taught him.
The siren waved back, copying his movement exactly. Then she did something new—she pointed at him. He pointed at himself.
"me?"
She nodded and did something else, crossed her hands over her chest in fists, only the index and middle finger half extended. She bumped them together at the wrist, tapping the fingers to her shoulders and sliding them down to a point at her mid-chest. When he responded with a blank stare, she repeated it. His head tilted.
"now what does that mean...?"
The siren only did it once more before she seemed to give up. She made a recognizable motion this time, both hands in fists together and turning down as if snapping something. He almost frowned.
"that a threat?"
Her face broke out into a wide smile, revealing teeth sharper than he expected before she was laughing on the other side of the glass. There was no other explanation for what she was doing, she was laughing, entirely too amused by his reaction as her shoulders shook. His grin widened a little at that. Well, at least someone here was having fun?
The siren seemed to recover from her fit and gazed at him once more, pupils dilated again. Then they flickered up—an alarmed look flashed over her features before she was suddenly gone. There was a flick of her great tail and then she had twisted away into the kelp and seaweed populating her tank, only the waves of the greenery giving away how fast she'd moved. Sans glanced backwards, feeling oddly like a kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to when he met the fascinated stare of a fellow janitor.
"hey, paul. uh. somefin the matter?"
"....I didn't see a damn thing."
The older human just turned and walked out, grumbling something about working here for too damn long just for a newbie to get the attention of one of the shyer sirens. Whatever that was about.
When the intercom crackled to life to announce the night's closing, Sans cast one last glance at the tank as he retrieved his bucket and mop.
The siren was nowhere to be seen.
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