..... like can you explain me bat's back legs??? Are they actually backwards?
Simplified answer: yes. Look at the bat below- the bottoms of her feet are facing forwards and her knees pointing backwards.
Longer answer: Compared to other mammals, the legs of bats are rotated 90-180 degrees in the hip socket at rest (depending on the species). However, all bats hold their legs out from their body facing backwards while flying, because their legs are a crucial component of their wing.
They also use the membrane between their legs to scoop up bugs. This would be impossible if their knees bent in the other direction.
Below are a couple of bat embryos which do a good job of demonstrating how whack their legs are (try to imitate this pose, if you dare).
To really see how stupid their pelvises and legs have become, just look at a bat skeleton…
…and compare it to the skeleton of an animal that makes sense, like a shrew.
Some species of bats can pull their legs up alongside their body to crawl, in kind of a frog-pose, though because of their pelvis shape they can’t pull them far enough underneath their body to lift their stomachs off the ground, and are forced to walk using an awkward sideways shuffle, or if their legs are extra pathetic, a sort of breaststroke using their wings to push off the ground.
Vampire bats are among the only bats to have evolved an upright walk, with their feet pointing backwards.
New Zealand short-tailed bats are the other expert walkers, though they evolved a completely different gait than the vampire bat, with their feet positioned more sideways like awkward little ducks.
In summary, bat legs are Goofy As Fuck and I adore them.
so playing andromeda and drawing kaleans got me thinkin’ on another minor complaint i have about ME and it’s this:
dang they can’t figure out how to make digitigrade legs work on a humanoid character and they end up adding extra joints to the legs to try to make it make sense
like i watched the animation cycle of that angara working out at the resistance camp and when he started doing crunches and his legs made an M shape i was just like smdh
i mean i think they handle it better with the angara since they have those weird little hand-feet (angara are so cute i cannot stand it) but the worst offender is probably the salarians
anyway i love the concept of humanoids with digitigrade legs so here’s some notes about it. it’s not beautifully formatted or anything but maybe it’s helpful!
basically the main thing to get out of your mind is that you’re not going for “backwards knees.” i am sure backwards knees could work and would be an interesting design, but it’s gonna change how this character moves and sits, it’s gonna affect the character’s center-of-gravity, it’s gonna be a much bigger overhaul of the anatomy than creating a digitigrade leg requires.
when you’re thinking of a digitigrade leg as having backwards knees, it’s probably because the joint you’re thinking of as the knee is actually the ankle
both plantigrade and digitigrade legs will have four major points of articulation: the hip the knee the ankle the toes
and a digitigrade leg isn’t a plantigrade leg backwards, but on its tiptoes:
that’s basically all you gotta do! then you exaggerate the effects by changing the proportions of the leg, starting with making the knee-ankle length shorter, and the ankle-toe length longer.
the benefit of drawing digitigrade characters like this is that they can sit in chairs without looking ridiculous!
and finally, if your character doesn’t have paws or hooves or talons, they probably want to wear shoes! hell, even if they do they still might wear shoes. the ground is nasty! think this through and let it be another cool design opportunity. a good place to start if you’re stuck is looking at wedge heels, then drawing them without the heel!
aaaand here’s some aliens
now get outta here and draw some weird-ass legs aight
okay rhiannon i can't choose one so here and you can choose which inspires you c: 20, 49, 51, 54, 58 & 60 <333 ((because i can never make my mind up! choose whichever hehe))
‘marble hearts collide’
#58 “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.”
Thank you Grace! I chose this one because I had an idea for it as soon as I read it and so… that’s what this is <3 I might make this a thing ?? like a series
modern + muggle au
“I was going to kiss him, but then Gemma texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.” Lily’s telling him this, aware that she sounds loopy, and she can’t help the blush on her cheeks but she’s also had a few glasses of wine, a few really meaning five, and really, it needs to be said. “So, anyway, I’m standing in front of this cashier guy and he really, really is cute. Like, textbook, chick flick, cute. Probably has a good shot at a career on Instagram. And he asks me what I want. And you know what I don’t want?” She pauses, doesn’t give him time to answer, takes another sip of the drink in her hand, drink meaning gin and tonic, and continues, “Him! I don’t want him! So, now I’ve bailed on my date to ask another guy out on a date and I go to ask this guy and I realise I don’t want to go on a date with him! He has to use a calculator to work out my change. I only paid with a fiver!” She throws her hands up and almost sends her glass flying and Sirius takes that as his cue to intervene.
“Hey, Evans,” he says, stilling her hand, “breathing is a vital part of staying alive.”
She looks at him with wide eyes, wide eyes meaning eyes that can’t focus on one thing. “I’m breathing.”
“Good to know.” He slips her legs off his lap and stands, cracking his neck, before snatching her glass from her hand. He downs it before she can protest and just grins at her pout. “Everything in moderation.”
“Including sobriety.” Surprisingly, drink never seems to hinder Lily’s vocabulary. It just makes her sound like a character out of an American coming-of-age film.
— sex | implied exhibitionism | mild dom/sub tones | if u’ve got a praise kink then ur gonna love this | mentions of daddy kinks | instances of spanking
;summary — you’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot
of useless lingerie knowledge, jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot
boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with
lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck
each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other
to say no.
snowbaz soulmates au where the ink you write on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin and vice versa
Okay, I really let my imagination run away with my words here. :D I really love this trope. But what if we took this a step further? What if, instead of soul mates, this was actually a spell that could be used to communicate with someone from far away?
Sometime around seventh year, this spell is taught in Magickal Words. And you get forced with a partner to learn it. Baz and Simon get partnered up, of course. And Simon botches the spell and makes it relatively permanent.
At first, neither of them really do anything about it. Simon might occasionally draw a stupid face or something on his arm just to piss off Baz. But Baz makes certain to no longer make notes to himself on his skin. It’s like this for almost a month. Until Simon goes on a mission for the Mage, and he receives dozens of cuts all over his arm and a few across his chest. It isn’t until he’s checking his cuts on his way back that he notices something written on his wrist.
Snow. Are you hurt?
Simon is really confused by this at first. Because why on earth would Baz be writing to him when he never has before? He immediately searches for a pen.
I’m fine, he writes back. Why? His handwriting is atrocious compared to Baz’s.
Suddenly, all these small arrows start appearing on Simon’s skin, each one pointing to his cuts. He looks under his shirt at his chest; there are some there, too.
I’m covered in scars, appears underneath his writing.
Fuck. It suddenly makes sense. He must have really fucked up the spell, and now Baz is getting all these marks on his skin where Simon’s cuts are.
I was cut, Simon writes. Do they hurt you?
Not much, Baz writes back. Be careful next time.
Simon doesn’t write back. He doesn’t know what to say. They don’t speak about it at all when he gets back. Nothing happens again until a few weeks later, over Christmas break.
Simon is sitting on his bed at Watford, trying to enjoy the quiet, when a large scar appears along the side of his neck and over his collarbone. He doesn’t notice it immediately, but begins to feel a burning sensation there. It isn’t until he goes into the bathroom to shower that he sees it. It terrifies him to see such a scar that large. He immediately runs out of the bathroom and grabs a pen.
Baz, what happened?
Dueling. The reply is almost instant.
Did you lose?
This almost makes Simon shiver. Baz so easily admitting defeat. In the form of one beautifully written word on his skin.
Simon walks back to the bathroom and stares at the scar in the mirror. It still burns. Burns like magick. Baz must have been hit pretty hard to have a scar left like this. He traces it up and down, wondering what it must look like against Baz’s grey skin.
Does it hurt? Came another set of words on the back of his hand.
It burns, Simon writes. Are you in pain?
I can handle it, forms along his right hand. Simon snorts at this. Of course Baz would be ambidextrous. Simon searches along his arm for a place to write but it’s all full of words. He then looks down at his legs. He’s wearing boxers, so he can write there. He’s not sure if Baz will see it immediately, but he decides to write there anyway.
I’m not left-handed, Baz, he writes. And then because of the extra space on his leg, he adds, I can’t write on my right arm.
So you decide to write on your leg instead? Idiotic, Snow. The reply appears on Simon’s leg, right under his own words. And it was almost instant again. Simon tries not to wonder if Baz is actually wearing pants at this moment.
You wrote on your own leg too, Simon writes.
To prove a point that it’s idiotic.
How is it idiotic if you’re doing it too?
There isn’t an instant reply this time, and Simon realizes they’ve written all the way from his knee cap to the top of his thigh. Something they could only do if they’re both not wearing pants. Simon really tries not to think about it.
(I don’t know what this was, I’m sorry. But maybe I’ll turn it into a real fic one day :D)
Word count: 2 189 (ain’t even sorry man.) Warnings: Sexual content, it’s SMUT got dammit!
Request: May I ask a kind of smutty imagine with Brett where
the reader and him are both in heat. And they make out, trying to prove they
aren’t in rut (but they actually are XD) ? And it ends with sex and possibly
marking each other as mates by accident ?
A/N: Thank you for your request and god how I loved to write this. It’s been one of the most funniest thing to write and it feels like something Brett would do. xD
you’re telling me that you’re totally in control?” Brett whispers in your ear
as he dip his nose in the crook of your neck. He inhale your intoxicating scent
while stroking hos nose against your hot skin, letting his fingers slid down
one of your bra straps down your shoulder, smirking when you turn around.
Wow! Genetics can be a crazy force of nature. I had to share this found photo with you guys!
“Frog with eyes in its mouth as a result of macromutation. A macromutation is a mutation that has made a significant impact on an organism, caused by a change in a regulatory gene that’s responsible for the expression of an array of structural genes.
It’s been suggested that the cause of the mutation was the result of a parasitic infection by a trematode worm (Ribeiroia ondatrae). Trematode infections have reportedly been linked to an increasing number of amphibian limb mutations, particularly missing, malformed, and extra hind legs.”
au where all the marauders and lily live together and it’s just a Mess
their cutlery is a mixture of plastic knives and forks built in bulk from the local supermarket and fancy, silver, engraved knives and forks sirius steals from pureblood events mr&mrs potter ask him and james to go to with them
every windowsill is dedicated to remus’ plants and lily is allergic to one of them but they can’t figure out which so james threatens to drown all the plants bc they’re making lily sneeze and remus throws a watering can at him
no one can remember who owns what so peter is always wearing james’ shoes or lily is always wearing sirius’ jeans or remus is always wearing sirius’ shirt (lily complains on a regular basis that she never gets to steal james’ shirt to sleep in bc it always ends up being someone elses)
james has to transfigure the shelf in the bathroom so that it’s big enough to hold all of sirius’ different soaps and conditioners
there’s always a cauldron with a different bubbling potion in it each week in the kitchen and one time peter’s v drunk and he thinks it’s soup and he drinks it and he grows an extra leg and lily has to take him to st mungo’s
the only chair they’ve never had to cast a reparo charm on is the comfy armchair with extra pillows which lily put a permanent heating spell on and it’s Remus’ Chair.
bobby pins. are. everywhere. lily is always buying new packs and then sirius is “borrowing them” and never returning them and somehow there are bobby pins in remus’ plants, in their shoes, in between james pile of textbooks he says are for “pleasure reading”, in the sugar pot, under pillows, over doorframes, in the cat’s fur
peter and lily begin feeding a stray cat that shows up all the time and lily says she wants to keep it so ofc james wants to keep it and then it’s 4 against 1 bc remus likes the fact sirius leaves the room every time the cat begins to purr
0 boundaries. there are three bedrooms and no one knows whose is whose so they all end up sharing sometimes
every time someone changes the radio station so it’s anything but his favourite quidditch one, james sulks for hours
remus framed all of their posters in attempt to make them seem like adults so then sirius makes him a “#1 adult” badge which he casts a permanently sticking charm on and sirius puts it on remus’ favourite jumper
after several official letters of complaint signed moony, wormtail & padfoot are delivered to their door, lily and james buy all three of them earmuffs so that way it’s their own fault if they hear anything they don’t want to
lily charms all the mirrors to tell sirius he has something on his face whenever he looks in it
all the rooms are only half decorated bc they got lazy after moving in
all of them are scared of spiders. except for peter, who walks in smugly with mug and coaster after he hears screams from a room
Had a weird dream that Riddler came into my house and ate all my expensive fancy ferrero rocher chocolate while I was taking a nap. He doesn’t even tell me that he did, he just leaves the box on my bed for me to see when I wake up.
Singapore can hit me in the face with Dan’s dad sandals and smother me to asphyxiation with his curly half-quiff before choking me with the rips in his jeans, then laying me to rest on the soft ginger-ish man down on Phil’s exposed legs and tossing my body over the railings of the 1-altitude skybar, proceeding to drag my content corpse along the ground as they explore the stalls together
The Qupqugiaq is a supposed ten legged polar bear that is said to terrorize Inuit villages. Its extra legs make it able to move faster and, in turn, make it more dangerous. It is possible that this creature is a result of a villager hallucinating or seeing a mother and her cubs at a distance - the cubs staying so close that it may seem as though they were a single body.
This is my first imagine I’m posting on here! I normally post these on my Wattpad (you can message me for the username for there if you want) but I wanted to give Tumblr a try! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to send me some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Also please tell me if you want more! Enjoy! x
“A bit too tight, Mama,” I wince slightly as she yanks the strings to my corset so tight I couldn’t breathe.
“Pain is beauty, Adelaide, and if you need to look absolutely perfect for when the King comes to town tomorrow. The Master can’t see you looking anything less than perfect,” She says as she takes a pin from her mouth and places it near the new, makeshift hem so she can remember to sew there so I won’t trip over my own dress tomorrow.
“I’m scared. He has never come to town. Do you know what he’s coming for?” I whisper as I look out the window to see the tiny faeries glowing brightly as they fly and dance in the moonlight, darting to each and every scarce flower they could find in the chill of winter to find pollen to make their faerie dust. Mama tenses and pauses for a moment before shrugging and continuing her work.
I giggle and wave as one of the faeries flies to the glass and watches in awe as the candle light illuminates my dress that I was to wear for when Master arrived.
The mere thought of him sent chills down my spine. I had never met nor seen him, but I had definitely heard of the cruel, vampire king who ruled over this land. His skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, every bluish-green vein noticeable, with eyes so red, it was like a fire blazed within them. He had chestnut brown curls that barely grazed his shoulders and his teeth were glistening white with points so sharp that with just a bit of pressure, he could pierce your neck and drain you dry in seconds.
They say he is a sad man, even though he ruled over many, many lands with all the riches of the world. In his thousand year reign, he never found love and, tales say, he searches relentlessly for his mate but to no avail. He knows only two features of his intended mate; fiery, red hair, the color of the very thing he craves the most, and eyes as green as emeralds just as his used to be before his blood lust settled in. They say his eyes have been red for hundreds of years, so long that they were beginning to say his past, gentle, kind nature and viridescent eyes were a myth.
Rumors were now going around that his sadness was developing into fierce, desperate anger, setting fire to every village that lied to him, saying there was a girl there who matches the description of his beloved.
I was used to the stares, the whispers, and pointing over my eighteen years in this world. I was the only redhead on a town of snow blondes and chestnut brunettes; a peculiar sight. I knew I matched the description of the king’s mate and so did everyone else in this tiny town. Sometimes, I dreamed vividly of a man so beautiful that he took my breath away. Even though I never dreamt of him with eyes like fire, only deep green, I knew it was the Master, the king, but I tried not to think much of it. I could never be his beloved.
“Okay, darling. Take it off so I can finish the hemming. I want to be able to get some sleep tonight,” my mother says tiredly as I slip off the beautiful, flowing dress and hand it to her.
Leaning over, she places a small kiss onto my forehead. Pulling back, she gazes at my face with an odd look in her eyes before sighing quietly. “Get some sleep, Adelaide. It could be a big day for us tomorrow,” she says and I immediately know she’s talking about the mate rumors. I nod softly as I pull on a nightgown before climbing into bed.
She walks out of my room, the wooden door eerily creaking shut, and I tug my quilted blanket closer as I hear the winter wind whip against the trees, the snowfall making it difficult to see the faeries glow as they continue to desperately scavenge for a few more hours until barren winter truly begins.
Feeling myself start to drift off, I lean over and with a quick gust of breath, I blow out my candle and my room goes completely dark, moonlight slowly creeping in through the window. Closing my eyes, I wonder if I’m going to dream of Master tonight as sleep overtakes me.
The once boiling water that was now my bath was starting to chill as I soaked absentmindedly. I could hear the villagers clamoring and shouting outside as they ready for the King’s arrival. I couldn’t believe that they believe that I was his mate so much that they sent a messenger to his castle. They put our little village, our home, in danger because of their beliefs. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“Adelaide! Time to get out! The watchers spotted Master Styles about thirty minutes away, my child!” My mother shouts as I wash the rose oil off my body. Standing, I let the water roll and drip off my naked body as I grab my towel and quickly dry off.
Walking out into my bedroom, I gasp at the beauty of the dress my mother had finished making. The tight, corseted bodice was intricately designed with elegant pearls that shown with brilliant luster. My breasts were lightly pushed up and my pale skin looked even more translucent in the white dress. The flowing skirt billowed to my feet and felt soft on my legs. Extra fabric made a cape-like train appearance that just kissed the ground behind me as I walked. It was beautiful.
My hair was down with a few elaborate, delicate braids across the middle. On top of my head, my mother placed a wreath of baby’s breath that showed a stark contrast against my blazing red hair.
Turning to my mother, I open my mouth to speak when a loud horn is blown. The King was here.
My mother quickly grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house. My father and my younger brother stand there in the snow, looking down the beaten, dirt road in awe. For once, the tinkling of small bells was not heard as the faeries hid from the cold winter. Only gasps and whispers were trickling into my ears as I turn to see what all the fuss is about.
Walking further into the road, I stand there as dry leaves crack and crinkle under my feet, the ground cold and damp from the melting snow.
My eyes dart around to see the villagers in their best outfits gazing at me for a quick second before looking back down the road in trembling fear and excitement. Looking forward, I squint slightly only to gasp to myself as I see a small team of steel, black carriages pulled by dark stallions. Their heavy puffs of breath were evident in the cold air and their black manes were flowing behind them as they trotted, tiny, white snowflakes getting caught in the strands.
They slowly come to a halt as I feel my heart beating fast in my chest, my breathing becoming more and more frantic as I see a man hop down from his driving seat and open a carriage door. One dark boot stepping out is all it takes to send my body into overdrive before a masterpiece of a man as beautiful as the legends say fully steps out of the carriage. For someone who has lived over two thousand years, he still looked youthful and perfect.
His face is smug and dark as he looks around with a slight scowl, the commoners and people of the town swarming him instantly. His steps were calculated and determined as he walks to the stage where local news is normally projected. It was amazing to think he could actually run faster than a gust of wind.
I was in awe of him.
“My people,” he starts as something inside of me begins to tingle and a feeling I’ve never felt comes over me. His voice was raspy and smooth like thick, sweet molasses, sending every hair on my body on end.
He inhales deeply, looking like he was in pain and holding himself back but it seemed me and his guards were the only ones who notice. His guards take a step towards him as if they were ready for him to pounce on someone any second.
“As the years go by, your king stays healthy and young, ruling over this country fairly and keeping war at bay. But as I stay young, my servants and my slaves, especially my dear, sweet, generous blood slaves, grow old and frail. When they grow a certain age or get sickly,” he smiles kindly but I could see the maliciousness behind it. “I dispose of them, letting them leave the castle and go to a… a better place.” He says as the townspeople grow curious and anxious at his impending words.
This is not what they thought he was here for. He wasn’t looking for his mate at all when he decided to come to our village. He was looking for slaves, particularly blood slaves!
I take a step back as the realization comes over me, hoping no one will notice but the guard beside the king locks eyes with me and smiles demonically, his sharp teeth glistening as I imagine all the blood he has sucked from innocent people. His smile widens when he sees the color of my hair and his intrigue deepens.
“So, my lovely people, you are going to have to make a decision - a sacrifice, if you will - and hand over just a handful, only a handful, of your healthiest. After all, it’s the least you can do for your king,” he smiles once more, surveying the area as the people begin to panic. They didn’t want to be separated from their families!
Shouts of disagreement and outrage fill the small space before he holds his hands up to silence them. “If that’s how you are going to behave…Seize them,” he flicks his wrist, instructing his guards to rush into the crowd and start grabbing our healthiest and best-looking villagers.
I let out a small yelp of fear as I turn on my heel and start to run, gathering my dress up so I don’t trip and fall. Looking back, I see the guard I locked eyes with fighting through the crowd to get to me. Sending a quick prayer, I rush into the dark, nearby woods.
“Sir, there is a lady with red hair! Matching the description of your beloved!” I hear the man say as I run through the trees.
“Where?” The way Master Styles speaks sounded desperate and angry that the guard let me get away. His deadly, demonic tone sends shivers down my spine. By now, tears of fear are rolling down my cheeks as I feel briars and switches cutting into my legs as I run for my life.
“She ran through there!” is all I hear until an inhuman growl pierces the air and strikes terror into my heart. My breathing is harsh and scarce as my corset digs into my ribs and I feel myself becoming lightheaded.
Coming to the edge of the woods, I spot the clearing where our horses are kept. The grass is long and it was dark as it was still early in the morning and the winter clouds covered the sun. I pray the heavy odor of the horses will cover my scent as the wind blows, causing my dress to billow freely behind me.
I become so distracted by my loss of breath and the horses stampeding across the dark plain, I forget the one that is chasing me.
“Let me see your face.”
The voice that belongs to the vampire king sounds hopeless and sad, begging for me to turn and face him. I freeze for a moment, scared out of my wits before something inside of me yearns for me to turn to him.
Slowly, I turn to face him and our eyes lock. Instantly, a feeling I have never felt before takes over me and I suddenly want nothing more than to spend my life loving this man. In a split second, his deep red eyes instantly turn emerald green as a dimpled, beautiful smile outbreaks on his face. His eyes fill with tears as he takes a step towards me, arms open to embrace me.
“My love, you don’t know how long I have waited for you.” He speaks softly and before I know it, he is within arms reach and gently taking my hand in his. He lightly gasps at the electrifying shock that goes through us and somehow his smile grows wider.
“You’re bleeding.” He states simply, making me look down to see my dress torn and my feet and my shin dripping blood from the briars. Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared as he leans down and places his face in the crook of my neck, even though I could feel his sharp fangs scraping across my vital veins. “Your blood smells so sweet, so delicious.” I tremble at his words, his tone causing tingles to run through me.
I actually wanted him to bite me.
Tiny, curious faeries emerge from the wood and their tiny bell-like rings fill my ears as a few watch us. I mentally say goodbye to them in my mind.
“What is your name, my darling?” He asks as he continues to lightly drag his teeth down my soft, vulnerable neck.
“A-Adelaide, Your Highness,” I whispered shakily, shocking myself as I turn my head to expose even more of my throat.
“Adelaide,” He purrs my name, the tingles now in my most private and secret place. I blush at my thoughts and feelings after just meeting this man, but what he does next shocks me to the core.
“You will never run from me or leave again. You’re mine now, ” He says, his voice turning dark before his sharp teeth sink into my neck and a bloodcurdling scream escapes me as he holds me still. He is ravenous and acts as if he hadn’t drank in years as I feel my body being drained dry. He slowly sinks us to the ground and I feel the soft grass against my skin as I stare up at the sky in shock, my mouth open in a silent scream as I feel myself becoming weaker and weaker. My pure white dress was now covered in my own blood as it drained out of the two puncture wounds in my neck.
Finally, he pulls away and I stare at his blood covered face as I feel my eyes failing me. Still, I did not fear him for an unknown reason. I trusted him as he whispers and lulls me to close my eyes. “Sleep, sweet Adelaide. We are going home now.”