#Atlantic grey seal

[fyanimaldiversity]

Melanistic Atlantic Grey Seal (Halichoerus grypus atlantica) [x]

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Rocky start

An Atlantic grey seal pup on the Isle of Staffa in the Inner Hebrides, Scotland.

Photograph: Stephanie Chadwick

[sealsdaily]

do you have any atlantic grey seals? :]

Why the Long Face?

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Pucker Up for the Sea Lamprey!

The sea lamprey (Petromyzon marinus), also known as the vampire fish, is the most famous member of the order of lampreys, Petromyzontiformes. Despite their similar appearance to eels, lampreys are actually jawless fish, and are more closely related to hagfish than eels. To add further confusion, sea lampreys actually reproduce in freshwater rivers and streams, and are only found in the ocean as adults. They are spread along the Atlantic coasts of North America and Europe, as well as the Mediterranean and Black Sea.

Sea lampreys are the largest member of the lamprey family, at an impressive 30 to 100 cm (11.8 to 39.4 in) long and weighing around 2.5 kg (5.5 lbs). They are generally olive or brownish grey, and their bodies are long and smooth. Perhaps P. marinus' most distinctive feature are their mouths, which are wide and circular with teeth arranged in a circle around the tongue and throat. When opened to attach to its prey, the mouth can stretch larger than the lamprey's head.

Vampire fish are widely known for their feeding habits. Adults are parasites that attach themselves to the sides of fish and feat on their victim's blood and tissue. But despite their fearsome appearance, P. marinus has a variety of predators as both juveniles and adults, including sturgeon, catfish, sea lions, seals, sea birds, and northern pikeminnows. Juveniles are particularly vulnerable, as they are smaller and, as deteriorates, are not equipped with the sharp teeth of adults.

Like many other fish, sea lampreys are anadromous, meaning they migrate from salt to freshwater to reproduce. From April to June, males and females travel up river to find rocky beds in which to build nests. Females lay anywhere from 30,000 and 100,000 eggs in their nest, which are then fertilized by multiple males. After mating, both parents die. The larvae take 3 to 8 days to hatch, and the young spend the next 1 to 3 years filter feeding in their home river. Once they reach maturity, they migrate back to the ocean, where they can reside for up to 5 years before returning to their spawning grounds to complete their lifecycle.

Conservation status: The IUCN has rated the sea lamprey as Least Concern. This species is invasive in the Great Lakes region of the United States. However, within its native range it is threatened by habitat degradation and over-fishing.

Photos

Paul Wilson

U.S. National Park Service

Sean Landsman

[awingedinsect]

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 8

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: cursing, talks of injury, talks of homelessness, there’s a general 18+ content warning for this entire series and it does get a tiny bit interesting at the end here. Yearning Vessel gets his own warning.

“I got you a present.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

The little girl smiled, raking up a fistful of sand.

“It’s a surprise, silly.” She said. The breeze was blowing her hair, and Vessel smiled as she pulled it out of her sweet little eyes. “For your birthday.”

He remembers the smell of the ocean, the sound of the grey waves crashing on the shore. He remembers sitting there for hours with her, watching the tide come in as the sun made its journey behind the clouds.

He chuckled. “Aw heck, you didn’t have to do that.” There was a big smile creeping up on his face. “…Do I get a hint?”

“Well, mom paid for it, but I picked it out.” She said, yanking up a few pieces of grass poking through the grout. “and no.” She made a zipper across her mouth, beaming up at him with specks of sand scattered on her pink cheeks. “My lips are sealed!”

“Hey, Vessel.”

Vessel looks up from the pan he’s scrubbing, turning on the faucet to rid it of the suds. The water soaks into the cuffs of his hoodie.

“Hm?”

IV stands beside him casually, shrugging the leather jacket he performed in over his good shoulder.

“I’m heading into town. Anything I can get for you?”

Vessel sets the pan down on the drying rack, hands spidering a little desperately over the pile of dirty dishes in search of his next target. “Oh, no thanks,” he says, blinking at the guitarist’s reflection in the window then immediately looking down when his is in the pane too. He still looks tired, eyes bloodshot and hollow. Almost like he’d been nearly sacrificed and since possessed by an anonymous deity.

“You uh, driving?” He asks, glancing over at the man’s broken arm. An unprecedented wave of guilt comes over him, and he swipes his nose on his shoulder with a sniff. The sunlight is pouring in through the dusty window and it makes eye contact feel doubly impossible. But IV just shrugs, stuffing his hand in his jean pocket and shuffling a ring of keys.

“Aye, I’m the only one up here with a license. But I don’t mind, going to the grocery is pretty much a special interest at this point. You sure I can’t get you anything? Swing by your house for some clothes?”

It amuses Vessel that there’s an unspoken understanding that he’s staying. It would be sweet, if there wasn’t also the underlying idea that he doesn’t actually have a choice. But then again, he doesn’t have anywhere else that he should be, much less a house. He wonders if they can tell. If the inability to pay another night's rent at that damn motel is as plain as the bandage on his face. God, he wants his keyboard.

Out of anything in the world, he’d take those keys under his fingers.

“I’m fine, honestly. I can take a cab to the motel lat-“

“You’re staying in a motel?”

A horrendous blush creeps up his neck, and he dumps a plate on the rack hard enough to make him wince. “I’m… temporarily a bit displaced?”

There’s not a whole lot to read on IV’s face. He just absorbs information, then says some contemplated thing in return. But out of pity or surprise, there’s something closer to concern in his eyes.

“…You got a job, mate?”

There’s a silence longer than III’s fucking legs, and maybe twice as insufferable as the man himself. Even now Vessel can hear him in the next room, quietly muttering over his collection of herbs and spell-making equipment in an attempt to guard against whatever “bullshit the cat dragged in.” II is watching the tv, sipping a soda and giggling at whatever's on the discovery channel.

Vessel’s big eyes finally gather the strength to look up in the window, mouth twitching as he meets IV’s own.

“…I sing.”

And that’s what he does.

That’s how that day passes, and the next, and the next… at first, he’s nervous. Just settles on the edge of the couch to watch the three of them take positions, falling into the flow of practice as easy as a stream into the sea. II looks about as at home behind his drum set as a tree in the woods. Vessel has never seen so much cohesion between a person and their instrument, and it fills his gut with an almost jealousy, seeing something so flawless performed with such ease.

IV forgoes his guitar, obviously. But he still brings a lot to the performance by presence and a few vocals alone. II wasn’t kidding when he said the man could scream. The sound scratches Vessel's ears so gorgeously, he could legitimately start crying.

And then there’s III.

He stands front and center, that same flowery jacket on his shoulders. He looks concentrated. In tune. And yet there’s an ease that rolls off of him so fabulously it can’t help but feel like a subtle challenge.

Vessel watches his fingers move over the strings, rings glinting in the grey-ish light of the foggy forest.

And he feels… something.

He watches them play for an hour before II begs him to join. There’s something in those blue eyes that is undeniable, no matter how out of place he feels. And soon there is a mic stand in front of him, adjusted about three levels higher than he found it.

“Bring Me to Life.” III mutters. And without a piano, the first sounds are nothing but a few chords plucked by his nimble fingers.

The challenge is no longer subtle.

Vessel rocks on his heels, fingers splaying delicately down the side of the mic stand before gripping it low and still for his mouth to caress.

“How can you see into my eyes…”

A very quiet “oh hooo” of impending excitement comes from somewhere behind the drum set, and Vessel smiles.

“…like open doors?”

IV’s screams of “I can’t wake up” ring in all of their ears for several days, so intense it’d be funny if not so impressive. They played for hours that day, only pausing to brew a few cups of III’s jasmine rose tea. II was right; it tasted like ass. And yet in that room, sweaty from pouring his soul into a mic and surrounded by those three, passionate freaks of the industry, he realized he was almost happy. His smile, for the first time in years, wasn’t something he willed onto his face. And if he could hang on forever to the feeling of discovering a smile instead of creating it he would.

II tells him goodnight without any prompting. Just smiles at him, and says it as easy as breathing, before heading off into one of three doors lining the hallway.

IV likes him too. He gets a few changes of clothes and a brand new toothbrush from him, and even shares an intelligent conversation about guitars once Vessel mentions that he likes to play, too. Most of his feeling is in his eyes, he’s realized. They have a way of sparkling and harboring what might be big smiles in another case when he’s intrigued or at peace. The only person who gets him to really smile, is II; When the drummer is curled up in a tiny ball on the couch with his cup of “tea” or going absolutely manic on the drums, closing his eyes and getting carried off in the rhythm.

Even III smiles then.

But not once has he ever smiled at Vessel.

Vessel goes to sleep one night, thinking about it.

What would it feel like to have III’s approval? It’s clear at this point that he’ll never make the guy happy. He resents him too much for that. And yet, he did save his life. Shouldn’t that be good enough?

Vessel doesn’t like him very much, he’s decided. Especially when after belting his heart out at the man’s command he doesn’t even get a “well done”, or a “thank you” when Vessel made a mug of that nasty fucking tea and brought it to him after practice. He just nods his head and half-way looks at him; because at the end of the day, Vessel isn’t worth his attention.

And it makes his face red as a beet.

The moon is pouring in through the window. It’s been a week since it was full, and lighting up the forest outside with him in it. The cuts on his belly seem to be healing well, and he’s planning to take the bandage off his head tomorrow and see what the hell that’s all about.

Why won’t III approve of him?

He turns over on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“You really are amazing.” II’s voice echoes in his head from earlier in the day, when he was cutting up some apples in the kitchen. “We’re all lucky bastards to have a singer like you messing around with us. Talk to III, we’ve got a gig coming up next week and I don’t know if we’d be half as good without ya!”

His eyes flutter as the darkness becomes staticy, rimmed on the left by faint moonlight and quiet as a grave with the whole house asleep. He thinks about II’s words. Is he in a band? If not, what’s he been doing up here all this time?

He’s not sure he can look at another crowd. Another waiting, patient collection of faces staring at his own until he does something impressive. Until the night goes on and terrible things have a chance to happen.

He shudders hard and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Can he sing for people?

For me.

A voice speaks somewhere between his mind and his eyelids.

Sing for me.

“I can scream loud enough, for you.” His mouth wraps around the words, muttering them softly with hardly a sound. His tongue darts out on his lip.

He really does love singing with bass.

His hand slips under his hoodie, spreading delicately over the bandages decorating him. His fingers are cold against his hot skin, searing between the pieces of himself and what III taped to him. It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.

His fingers travel down, grazing softly over the faintest of trails till they touch the band of III’s sweatpants.

God, he’s annoyed. He’s a good singer. Why isn’t he good enough for everyone? Why doesn’t that prick of a bassist say thank you when he makes him tea?

“I can scream loud enough...”

His fingertips push past the elastic, the slightest of tremors in his big hands for no reason he feels like guessing. He didn’t realize until right now how aroused he is by nothing in particular. It’s simply been too long, he thinks. Too long since he created release for all the sounds in his mind.

“…for you.”

For me.

“…Yes.”

After only a few minutes his eyes shoot wide open, full of pleading and hate as he cups a hand over his mouth and bites down hard enough to muffle a scream.

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Title: The Faroe's Curse

May 1st : Selkie (Scottish mermaid) Prompt 18+

Characters: William Farrow and OC Selkie (Delphine)

(William Farrow developed by Josephine Hart "Damage")

Word count: 3.4k (total in 2 parts)

Warnings: near drowning, sailing, mermaids/selkies (dark siren), Female receiving, height sameness, female rescuing male, fisting, sex, character death.

Fandom: Richard Armitage - Obsession

Obsession - Post series: William takes some time off work and home and decides to go on a boat excursion to the Faroe islands west of Scotland, to reflect on his family's origin.

History: A Selkie according to legend is a Scottish/Nordic derived mermaid of sorts. A women’s form with “seal’s” tail but can shapeshift at will and are thought to be incredibly attractive and captivating creatures. In the Scottish tradition, they are often alluring and can said to grant wishes, before leading to an untimely death. In Norse myth, the Margyge are said to be dangerous and vicious creatures that conjure storms to lure seamen, clawing ships to capsize them, and drag the men out of the boats to a watery grave.  

Definitions: (merfolk translator – twilightrealm.com)

Verdant Eddy – green, vibrant vortex

Ed aib gehi – Oh yes more

Uzz gil gobp bojjih pdi bugi jupi – All men must suffer the same fate

Gil uhi bowd bygqzi whiupohib – Men are such simple creatures     

Far off the Coast of Scotland sat a boat, adrift in the icy and murky waters of the North Atlantic Sea. The circulating waters moving the 42’ sailboat about in high winds. William was unconscious on the bough. A gorgeous and naked woman hovered above him, wet from the seawater. She cradled him against herself and whispered an enchanting tone in her native tongue. William stirred and looked up into icy green eyes and a smooth face. He smiled, then froze remembering how moments ago he had been thrown overboard and was drowning. He coughed up some sea water, its saltiness burning as it forced its way out of his lungs and through his mouth and nose. She patted him gently on his back. He sat up, noticing her nudity. The Selkie’s skin, glowed green and grey, and glistened even in the grey skies. William scurried back a moment, not sure what he was looking at. The Selkie cooed, “Its alright. I am not here to hurt you”. William gulped nervously, “Good thing”, he nervously laughed, scratching the back of his neck, “Did you get me back onto the ship?” He asked her. The Selkie nodded, and looked down, it was then that he truly noticed her breasts and crease of her belly running down to long legs, and delicate feet. She was, in a way, remarkably beautiful. He felt entranced a moment, then tried to shake it off. He tried to stand and fell back on his bum, his legs folding beneath him, “I’m sorry, (chuckles) I must not yet have my bearings back”. The selkie spoke then, “Its alright”, the voice was a bit broken, and raspy.

Below from the midpoint of the schooner, a male voice shouted out towards William. William suddenly grabbed a blanket from the seating compartment and tossed it over the woman. Donald stood a bit above the hatch, and looked towards the bough, “William, are you alright?” he said in his Northumberland brogue. William nodded quickly, “yeah, yeah. Just getting my bearings”. “We thought we lost ya”, Donald said. William turned toward the Selkie, whose eyes were cloaked in the blanket now, looking at him. “Yeah, nearly” a lighthearted chuckle, “Is everything good down there?”  he shouted back over the wind. “Oh yeah, no worries. We will be back on a track in about 30 minutes or so, the current shifted on us, with that last storm”. William nodded and waved at him. The Selkie looked at him tentatively, William came to her, and started to rub her dry, absently, not sure what to do with such a, woman? Her dark hair was tendrilled with seaweed and peppered with salt from the deep water. He looked into her emerald eyes again and lost his breath. When his breath returned he asked, “What is your name?” The Selkie smiled, “Delphine” she said, her throat warming to the open air again. William noticed that she was nearly as tall as him, her long legs lying well past the woolen blanket. Delphine did not shy away, as his hand moved to touch her ankle, and caressing it lightly. He shook his head, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have” William said. Delphine looked at him, “Its ok. I know you have never seen my kind before. It can be quite shocking”. William’s brow furrowed, “Your kind?” he looked inquisitive.

Delphine slid off the seat and onto the bough planks. She stretched her legs straight and hummed a little tune. William watched her legs transform into a silken grey flipper, and his hand went over his mouth, as she took his other hand and slid it along her tail. William was entranced again, the sparkle of her skin, a beautiful grey-green resonated, as he touched her he felt the warm and cool of it and shuddered. He had an impulse to just taste her, but he didn’t know why. William sat down across from her, and just stared. Delphine, giggled, closed her eyes and rubbed her at her seal skin into legs again. Her female sex now showing as the blanket over her shoulders shifted, and William’s cock twitched almost instantly. Then a thought struck him, which he didn’t say out loud (what if they find out? How will I explain her on the ship?)

Delphine looked at him, shrouding the blanket across her flesh, “You seem puzzled”. William looked at her, “I am. I’m not sure how to keep you on board, but I want to,” smirks. Delphine looks down, “I understand, maybe we can come up with a story together? Were the others up here when you fell?”  William grimaced, “Other, there’s only one man down there. But no, he was not”. Delphine smiled broadly, almost sinister, her glow seemed to brighten then, as she showed her sharper teeth. William shuddered again, titillated and frightened. “You speak quite well for a, mermaid, is that what I call you?” Her dialect had a slightly Nordic lilt, “No, I’m a selkie, half man, half seal. Our kind has traded with men for centuries, so its best to be able to communicate”. William thoughtfully paused. He couldn’t look away from the flesh that was exposed by the woolen blanket, “I see, sorry for the confusion then”. Delphine ignored the apology. His eyes continued to dart back and forth with hopeless abandon. Delphine knew she had her mark. “What’s your name?” Delphine asked. William snapped out of his fixation a second, “William, Farrow” Delphine smiled, “Of the Faroe isles?”

William smiled, “Rumored to be, yes” rubbing the back of his neck to wipe away the sweat that was building there. Delphine now moved to stand, a little unsteady on her feet, William stood to help her. She smiled, nose to nose at him, meeting his height. “I’ve never met a woman as tall as me” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, the blanket maintaining its position. Delphine, “not many have either, I have found”. William formed an ‘oh” with his mouth, and Delphine kissed him, her arms lazily around his neck as they both stood on the deck, the waves settling down around them. William returned the kiss, wanton and sweetly. Delphine licked his bottom lip, her razor-sharp teeth, dragging along it seductively for a moment. William groaned in “

From the observation window Donald saw William and a woman kissing and blasted the horn, causing them both to fall apart, crashing onto the deck. Donald came up on deck and looked at William first before he gazed upon Delphine with suspicion and intrigue. Her long naked legs, against the deck, and nothing else covering her but the woolen blanket. “Now what’s all this? William, what’s going on?” Donald said, perturbed. William guffawed looked up at Donald, as he made it to his feet, “I... I went overboard to retrieve this woman, (looked at Delphine) floating in the water, and” Donald cut in, “And you suppose you needed to resuscitate her while standing in my viewing window, is that it?” he said sarcastically. William put his hands up, “I meant no offense Donald, obviously. I just, I” Donald snapped back again, “Well, anyways, no harm done, right? Hello lass, its nice to meet you. I am Donald, captain of the Verdant Eddy welcome abroad” Donald tipped his hat to Delphine and she smiled closed mouth at him, “Thank you, sir. Captain. I am Delphine”.

William needlessly stood next to her, a subtle claiming of territory, his hand making it to the small of her back. “How did you get out here?” Donald asked her. Delphine looked out to the sea, in a longing fashion, and pointed exactly where land existed about 10 miles ahead, “We were coming off the isles, and capsized, I have been adrift for days it seems. Used most of my clothes to lash together a raft, but eventually that succumb” Delphine looked down sheepishly, “I must look an awful mess, my apologies”.

William shook his head in time with Donald’s response, “No, no. of course not. Listen that is quite an ordeal, is there anyone I can radio for you?” Delphine looked up then, a bit panicked, William spoke up, “She was the only survivor”. Donald grimaced, “I’m sorry lass. But I’ll bet your hungry.. huh. I’ve got some good grub downstairs in the galley. Come on” Donald invited, Delphine walked cautiously away from William and towards Donald. William followed after them, stepping down into the lower section of the boat, trying not to bang his head on the ridge of the hatch. Donald was chipper and rattled off things, as Delphine sat down in the galley. William went the back, to his sleeping quarters and ruffled through his suitcase trying to find some sweats and a shirt for her. Delphine sat quietly watching both men fuss over her, she giggled under her breath. Men were so easy. (and so tasty, she thought)

Donald busied himself at the counter, preparing her a sandwich with fish and sauce, as Delphine watched. His Northumberland accent thickening in places, “Your lucky you didn’t get eaten out there pet” Delphine, “Yes, I am very grateful.. is this boat yours, captain?” Donald nodded not facing her, “Yep sure as the sun sets she is. Bought and paid for. And still kicking about. Now I just do these small charters, takin’ Rich men around, (pointing a butter knife towards Williams’ quarters) wherever they wanna go (chuckles) though that one, is strange for sure, haunted I think”. Donald turned to place the food in front of Delphine, who looked at it expectantly.

“I would retire,” Donald paused, “But no one to retire with, you know. My wife, god rest her, passed away about 10 years ago now, no little ones neither,” he trailed off as William re-entered the galley and sat next to Delphine. “You got one for me, Captain?” William asked, looking towards the sandwich. Delphine pushed hers towards William, “Its ok, William, you can have mine”. Donald huffed, “I insist you eat something lass, get your strength back, you look like you’ve lost a stone since you hit the water”. Delphine dutifully took a bite of the sandwich knowing this to be a custom of men. Donald smiled, “That’s a good girl, (to Delphine) now, what about clothes, William?” William handed the bundle of clothes he had found and laid it next to Delphine on the seat. “Sorry I didn’t have anything better, my, (pause) ex-wife didn’t pack my suitcase.” Delphine smiled shallowly at both men. It was almost too easy, two men with no one to look after them when they go missing, Delphine thought. Delphine took another bite of the sweet fish, her soft pink tongue lapping at her lip at bit, Donald missed it, but William was enthralled. “There you are boyo,” Donald handed William a sandwich and went up to the deck. William nodded, and looked oddly at him, before Donald left them alone in the galley.

William, “So, how, um, well old are you?” Delphine, looked at him, clearly thinking, “Well by your standards I would be about 30, I suppose (She looked down at her soft abs and bouncy breasts) But I am 150 storms old”. William looked inquisitive, “Storms? Is that your only method of time measurement?” Delphine, “The larger parts yes. Its darker where I live, and the agitation brings things around, but I can survive up here, for a little while”. She smiled sweetly. William handed her the bundle of clothes, “Listen you can get dressed in my quarters, and feel free to clean up, if you wish,” smirks, “I will stay out here”. Delphine stood, and walked towards his quarters, “You think I’m suddenly shy, now?” William rose immediately, “I was trying to be respectful” cleared his throat into his fist. “Your respectful customs do not interest me, but I am curious about what other things men can do”.  Taking that as a challenge in acceptance, William gulped again, “I am happy to oblige, ask me anything you like”. Delphine, walked away, swaggering her bum under the blanket, “Its something you’ll have to show me”.

@scariusaquarius a @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass

Thanks to the lovely people that have been so encouraging!!

Lyn's Writing Event 2024!

[paulisperpostridie]

>.< O_o =0 🫡‼️‼️

thank you…….!!!!!!!!!

>.< - Do you have any xenogender/microlabel headcanons for your f/o?

i’m not too experienced with the xenogender scene, as fun as it looks..! but looking at a bunch of those pinterest boards….

winslow - faeboy, angelgender, ghostcoric

ricky - doggender, awesomefaceic (that one is so funny), summergender

O_o - What kind of virtual pet would your f/o be? A Neopet? A Webkinz? Maybe even a puffle? Which one in particular? What about you?

YAAAY! oh my gosh…… i’m just gonna do both webkinz and neopets…… sorry club penguinheads

ricky is a fur seal webkin… even though the lil otter is supercute the seal just caught my eye more….. and winslow is a gargowl- they both have a grey color scheme and scary blue eyes!

as for neopets, winslow is a ghost shoyru!

and ricky is this thing

i’m these things! :-)

=0 - If you and your f/o were mermaids, what would your tails look like?

ricky is an atlantic blue marlin, winslow is a catfish, and i’m a princess parrotfish because im a pritty princess 👑 ❤️🎀

[beautifulelephantsealsunrise]

What species of seal is your favorite baby seal ? They all look like little wigglers, I fuckin love it. Pictures welcome :3 🦭

hi kolya!!!!!! it’s very hard to pick one, so i asked my fiance what they think is my favorite baby seal, and they said grey seal, so i’ll tell you about the grey seal. the grey seal is a little guy who yells and screams in a pathetic manner.

it is born with a white coat, which is called lanugo fur, and it can’t swim for the first several weeks after it is born. it will nurse for the first month or so of its life and get as fat and round as possible, then its mother will return to the sea and it will have to figure out everything about life by itself.

it can be found on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. the grey seal is actually Germany’s largest predator!! but of course it is equally at home on the coasts of Maine and New England. here are some photos + a video!!!

p.s. they ARE all such little wigglers

[alaskas-space-project]

I don’t often post my own thoughts on tumblr but it’s 1 am and I’m not afraid of much when it’s so late (early?)

cw: discussions of ED as they relate to figure skating

tldr: my thoughts on icebreaker and what to read instead

So! I’m going to be talking about figure skating romance novels. If you’ve been anywhere on booktok or sports romance circles, or even just the internet you’ve probably heard of Icebreaker.

I mean, if you only want a romance… it’s there. But as an a beginner figure skater myself, (and someone who has a mild (overwhelming)) interest in the sport as a whole, the figure skating portrayed in the book is really mid.

The fmc (Anastasia/Stassie) is a pairs skater, and her partner has her on a diet to keep her light (???) like sir. Eating disorders are already so rampant in the fs community you don’t have to do it for her. Her BF is a very typical romance intrest and he’s like giving alpha of the college frat. I’m not going to reread icebreaker to straighten out my memories because I don’t think I can manage it.

major problem I have with the plot of this book: Anastasia changes from Pairs to Singles months before the Olympics, and wins the fucking women’s singles. Are there no Russian or Japanese skaters in this universe? But also ????? She switched disciplines only a few months before the fucking Olympics and then won. They’re different disciplines for a reason—of course the skills and many of the elements can be transferred across, but there’s a big bloody difference between the two. And then she gets pregnant. Surprise baby at like, 20!!

so yeah. Not my favourite book of all time. I mean, I’ve read worse, but that’s not really what you want to hear when someone’s recommending stuff to you.

HOWEVER!! There’s a ray of hope for us! I’ve read two figure skater romances which have my seal of approval (if that matters)

1) Unsteady by Peyton Corinne

2) From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata

I’ll try not to give any spoilers if you want to read these books.

Unsteady is another figure skater/hokey player romance, and it does what Icebreaker wanted to do. Compelling fmc, love inrest isn’t two dimensional minus his abs, and there’s a really nice plot line about the fmc’s family (she has little brothers). I generally really enjoyed this book, and it also has a Spotify playlist made by the author, which includes songs such as: Meddle About by Chase Atlantic, American Teenager by Ethel Cain and Family Line by Conan Grey.

(Mild spoilers for this one) From Lukov with Love is a a figure skater/figure skater romance. Jasmine Santos is a pairs skater who has trouble keeping a good partner, and Ivan Lukov’s partner has decided to take a break this season (despite them being the Olympic favourites??) I don’t remember if it was explained why. anyways, the two of them pair up. Now, I liked this book. It was better than Icebreaker. The characters are 25/30 years old, instead of being barely above the age of consent, which is a point from me. I have a bone to pick with Ivan though—he calls Jasmine meatball because she’s heavy or something??? And it’s addressed… in a way? Like he says “if it’s really bothering you I’ll stop, you know I don’t mean anything by it” you know how fucking fast my skate would be snuggling up to this man’s liver?? Mach fuck. But, they have a pretty interesting (good?) relationship. They’re there for eachother, and they work together to improve their skating.

A massive plus for me, which almost makes up for Ivan’s transgressions, is the realism of the figure skating here. FLWL dives into the different lifts, jumps and spins the pair do, and I love the little details the author added—she did her work! like the figure skaters falling on one side more than another (and just being used to falling on the ice lol), the solid explanations of the jumps, not making her characters constantly do triple C elements, and having the Jasmine have a signature jump. There’s a lot more details I could put in about what I liked in the figure skating of this book. it’s got my seal of approval overall.

so uh, yay! There’s my alternatives if you like figure skater romances, and you’re thinking about reading Icebreaker. I mean, I won’t stop you, but I’d definitely give these two a go as well, or instead

[iwantoseeafrigatebird]

the orkney trip

part 6

day 6

Full day in westray, it was also the day the streaming the last sunset of the year in a zoom call with dave k and co was scheduled.

Waking up early in the morning to break camp, brilliant sunrise, the sun gave the tombstones an orange tint. (as you can see my superstitious ass camped as faraway from tombstones as possible but yep when i put the pegs down i could feel stones down there. if what i felt was a stone slab or sth i was in effect knocking on their door).

Pretty boat at Westside beach, where I left my bike the previous night.

The sea on the left hand side, the kirkyard was right by the sea, separated by a low wall.

Going off to the beach at the Links of Noltland where they unearthed the neolithic human figure termed the Westray venus. great beach, got yapped at by a farmer's formidable border collies (leashed). a sheep dog was not on a leash, the farmer yelled "they won't get yae! that one's fine!" looking at the sheep dog i thought to my good self well you would say that wouldnt you. I didn't dare to cycle away either, the road was rough and i was afraid that it might chase me.

My biscuits attracted dogs, including this absolute darling who loved capering in the waves. Always loved to watch the atlantic rollers coming in, tremendous waves.

Going off on the trail to Noup Head lighthouse, gannets galore (ah the black faced gannet babies), so were rabbits, found a rabbit spine. I told someone that I was wondering if this wasn't how golf was invented in scotland: meadows, gentle slopes, and then you see all the rabbit holes.

Sea foam trailing away to the north. Accordingly, from this point head all the way north you hit nothing but the ice east of greenland and then it's the north pole. Gannets casting shadows over the white foam is my favourite thing at this spot. A seal turned up, with speckeled fur, it played around a bit in the deep green waters (like liquifided jadeite) at the root of the cliffs and dived, its grey form melting into the green.

the wave thundering away down there. The waves rose what, five, eight metres at times? Sometimes they were of the height of half of those cliffs. I'm bad at such estimations.

(tbc)

[contentment-of-cats]

The post you never want to write.

We tumblrinas might not be the most orderly folk, but we know the bullshit when we see it. In some cases, being right is a vindication - chest-bump and high-five. BOOYAH! In other cases, being right is not wanting to be right, not wanting to know what you know and the occasion for a long breath, a shake of the head, and commending that energy to the universe.

For a lot of us, the first thought was for the humanity we shared with the dead. The shared blood and bone, nerve and skin, love and life. There was anger that anyone could think that spending $250k US to do this was moral or ethical. The whole eat the rich thing seemed to me to be laughing past the graveyard, so for the most part I discount it. After all, I joke about my own cancer. Yes, this seems to be the answer too neo-liberalism/libertarianism and why we have rules, regulations, and procedures. People die without them and 'corporate personhood' acts out as sociopathy.

There are always going to be some twisted assclowns who hate - nothing ever changes them, and it's a waste of my precious and measured minutes to try. Cancer clarifies one's thoughts - a Swedish death-cleaning for brainspace. The block button works as well as a dumpster bag.

We did good, tumblrinas.

Now to the shitty parts

Correction:

The US Navy detected an acoustic signature consistent with an implosion on Sunday in the general area where the Titan submersible was diving in the North Atlantic when it lost communication with its support ship, according to a senior Navy official. The Navy immediately relayed that information to the on-scene commanders leading the search effort, the official said Thursday, adding that information was used to narrow down the area of the search. But the sound of the implosion was determined to be “not definitive,” the official said, and the multinational efforts to find the submersible continued as a search and rescue effort.

Sonar did not pick up the sounds that would have indicated an implosion in the water column. Considering that the northern Atlantic is a hotbed of sonar sensors used for military, scientific, and other purposes, you'd think that they could hear a fish fart. However, the debris field is indicative of just such an event. This may mean that it was slower than a BOOM implosion, but humanity allows us to hope not. The banging sounds picked up do not appear to have had any relation to the sub, which at that point had been destroyed three days ago. That being said, there are reportedly five items of debris that allowed ROV operators to definitively identify the sub. The principal item was the nosecone - the big grey boobie-looking thing on the front.

Other items might have been the thrusters, the 'feet,' and the camera on top. It's too much to hope for the footage from the camera to be salvageable even if it did survive. at this point, I'm surprised that they didn't stick a Ring doorbell on there and call it good.

The reports indicated that the nosecone was intact. This is the part that bolted onto the fuselage to seal the passengers inside. It's also the part that meant they'd have to raise the sub if it were found intact since there was no escape hatch. There was a smaller debris field inside the new debris field that contained the tailcone. The part amidships where the passengers and pilot sat has not yet been recovered, I would guess. So, nosecone popped off, tailcone popped off, exterior attachments popped off - the main part that presumably contains the remains compressed within has not been found, though the ships and technology will remain in some number to look for it.

There is nothing that anyone could have done to stop the loss of life other than not putting it into the water in the first place. Those five people have been dead since Sunday morning, an hour and forty-five minutes into their dive, fifteen minutes from the bottom. There would have been an almighty big air bubble the sound of a beer can being crunched.

There's going to be a lot to process over the coming weeks. When the shit hits the fan, that's just one part of it. It's what happens AFTER impact that brings to light the real mess.

[bgrantt]

DADDY

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one grey toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat moustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You- Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two-The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

12 October 1962 - Sylvia Plath

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Horsey beach, England

Some of the estimated 2,500 Atlantic grey seals on Horsey beach in Norfolk, where they gather every year to moult their worn-out winter fur and grow new sleeker coats. The 5-mile stretch of Norfolk coast has become an important breeding ground for the mammals, with over 3,500 pups being born there over winter

Photograph: Joe Giddens/PA

[barry-kent-mackay]

The Labrador Duck (Camptorhynchus labradorius), native to the northeast coast of North America, has been extinct since sometime late in the 19th century, with the last valid sighting being in 1878.  Little is known about it, although there are some 55 stuffed specimens of it scattered about the world in various museums. One mystery is the cause of its extinction. All accounts indicate it was already uncommon by the time Europeans arrived in North America, to stay. Its meat was relatively little in demand, due to bad flavor, and reportedly it did not keep well. Certainly such commercial demand that did exist for its meat, feathers, eggs and skins would undoubtedly have been the final cause of its extinction.

But I have a theory.  Wherever humans have gone, extinctions occurred. I used to think it would not be possible for the extinction of so many ice-age species in North America to have been caused by the arrival of humans after the last ice age ended.  But we now know that humans arrived in the western hemisphere much earlier, perhaps fifteen thousand years ago. We also know that in the absence of humans, many animals, including large ones, simply are not afraid of humans when they arrive.

We can see examples of that, even today, on islands that were historically uninhabited for sure, but even in less frequented continental areas, where foxes or Canada Jays or Boreal Chickadees, to give three examples from my own experience, will act fearlessly in human presence. Urbanites are constantly told not to feed coyotes, or they’ll become used to people and a threat.

The Beothuk people, themselves exterminated, were seal and caribou hunters who once inhabited the area now called Newfoundland and Labrador, thought to be the former breeding grounds of the Labrador Duck (Audubon’s son claimed to have found a nest in Labrador, and probably did.) My theory is that the Labrador Duck was one of a plethora of “ice age fauna” that went extinct as a result of how easily they were killed by humans, having always lived in remote areas.  Animals exterminated in North America between the arrival of the first people, and the arrival of Europeans -- horses, elephants, large condors, giant sloths, camels and other species, included ones that were rare when Europeans arrived with their own weaponry. Many that were extirpated or exterminated were from the same region – sea mink, Great Auks, Newfoundland wolves, eastern cougars, eastern elk, Eskimo Curlews (who migrated through the region), even the Atlantic grey whale  -- the list is large, and the depletion of native wildlife of the region continues into the present – Canada’s rarest mammal is the northern Atlantic right whale, and of course the collapse of the northwest Atlantic northern cod is recent and well known.

I have researched the species for years, photographed every specimen (and collected photos of every other specimen I could find) and studied renderings of many other artists, most of whom, like me, could only do “best guess” restorations.  The painting is about 18 by 24 inches, in oils on a birchwood panel.  I am also including a much earlier painting I did of some Labrador Ducks in flight over the Labrador coast at dawn. It was in watercolours on paper.

art may be used for non-commercial purposes with attribution

prints and original art for sale on Fine Art America

support barry kent mackay on ko-fi

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Great White Shark (Carcharodon carcharias)

Habitat & Distribution

Found in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans from Canada and the Mediterranean to South Africa and Aotearoa (New Zealand)

Can reside in open oceans, but is more commonly seen in coastal waters

Physical Description

Weight: 680–1,110 kg (1,500–2,450 lb)

Length: 3.4 to 4.0 m (11 to 13 ft) for males, 4.6 to 4.9 m (15 to 16 ft) for females

Great white sharks are grey with a white underbelly

The body is torpedo-shaped, with a narrow snout and large, triangular fins

Behaviour

In most areas, great white sharks are solitary, but where they do congregate they form hierarchies arranged mainly by size

The diet is varied, consisting of fish, dolphins, seals, sea turtles, squid, whale carcasses and other sharks

Their only known natural predators are killer whales

Key Advantages

Great white sharks have large, sharp teeth designed for grabbing and ripping prey; they have have an incredibly strong bite force, of up to 18,216 newtons (4,095 lbf)

They can swim very fast, up to 50 kph / 35 mph, and can reach top speed in less than two seconds

Photo by Bob Talbot

[bestgullpoll]

Round 1, Side A: Match 5

[Image ID: Two pictures of gulls. The left is a western gull standing on a rock. The right is a great black-backed gull standing on a rock. /End ID]

The western gull (Larus occidentalis) is a large gull that lives on the west coast of North America from British Columbia, Canada to Baja California, Mexico. They typically measure 55-68 cm (22-27 in) in length and 130-144 cm (51-57 in) in wingspan. They have a white head and body, dark grey back and wings, pink legs, orange eye ring, and heavy yellow bill with red spot. They rarely venture more than 160 km (100 mi) inland from the ocean. In the northern part of their range, they hybridize so frequently with glaucous-winged gulls that the hybrids ("Olympic gulls") are more common than either species. They feed on fish, invertebrates, and carrion, and occasionally other birds. They are even known to steal milk from sleeping mother seals.

The great black-backed gull (Larus marinus) is the largest gull in the world, measuring 64-79 cm (25-31 in) in length and 150-170 cm (59-67 in) in wingspan. They live and breed along the European and North American coasts and islands of the northern Atlantic. They have white underparts and head, dark grey back, dark grey wings with white "mirrors" at the tips, pink legs, and large, powerful yellow bill with red spot. They are apex predators and are known to frequently and aggressively hunt prey such as other smaller birds and mammals, unlike most other gulls. They also eat fish, crabs, and other invertebrates, and steal food from other birds.

western gull image by David Iliff

great black-backed gull image by Andreas Trepte