#Indian Heads Severed

[quatregats]

Current Situation would actually probably be solved if I stopped looking to Projects for all my satisfaction in life

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: moray eels

This week on Wet Beast Wednesday I'll be going over something amazing, a fish with a sense of morality. You see, the moral eel is known for, what... I think I'm reading this wrong. Oh, MoRAY eel, not moral. Well this is awkward. Hang tight, I need to go redo my research.

(Image: a green moray (Gymnothorax funebris) swimming outside of its burry, with its whole body visible from the side. It is a long, slender fish that looks a bit like a snake. A long fin starts just below the head and continues down the length of the body. The body is arranged in a wave pattern. It has a pointed snout and small eyes. Its body is a yellow-green color. In the background is the sandy seafloor, dotted with various sponges and corals. End ID)

Moray eels are true eels, meaning they are in the order Anguiliformes. Yeah, I did wolf eels, electric eels, and lamprey eels before I got around to actual eels. There are over 200 known species of moray eel in 15 genera. Like other eels, they are elongated bony fish with extra vertebrae and reduced fins. Moray eels have fewer fins than most eel species, only having a dorsal, anal and tail fin that merge together and run down the back of most of the body and underneath portion of it. They achieve motion by undulating this long fin and sometimes undulating the rest of the body as well. Moray eels aren't the fastest of fish, but they can swim backwards, something almost no fish can. The head has a long snout with wide jaws. Most species have long fangs used to grab onto prey, but a few species are adapted to eat hard-shelled prey and have molar-like teeth to crush through shells instead. Probably the coolest feature of morays are the pharyngeal jaws. This is a second set of jaws located in the back of the mouth. When the eel bites onto prey, the jaws can be shot forward to grab the food and help pull it into the throat. While lots of fish have pharyngeal jaws, morays are the only ones who can extend their pharyngeal jaws forward and use them to grab prey. Morays have smooth, scaleless skin that is often patterned to provide camouflage. The skin is coated in mucus that provides protection from damage and infection. In some species, the mucus can be used to glue sand together to help reinforce burrows. Morays lack lateral lines, a system of organs found in most fish that senses changes in water movement. Their sense of smell is their primary sense. The size of morays varies between species. The smallest species is the dwarf moray eel (Gymnothorax melatremus) which reaches 26 cm (10 in) long. The largest species by mass is the giant moray eel (Gymnothorax javanicus) which can reach 3 meters (10 ft) and 30 kg (66 lbs) while the longest species is the slender giant moray (Strophidon sathete), the longest known specimen of which measured in at 3.94 m (12.9 ft).

New reaction image

(Image: a giant moray (Gymnothorax javanicus) emerging from a burrow. It is brown and mottled with yellowish patches. Its head is pointed at the camera and it's mouth is wide open, aming it look shocked. End ID)

(Image: an anatomical diagram of the skeleton of a moray eel emphasizing the pharyngeal jaws and the muscle attachments. End ID. Art by Zina Deretsky)

Moray eels are found throughout the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. Different species are found in different temperatures and depths, though most species live in relatively shallow, warm water. Several species can live in brackish water and a few will swim upriver and live for a time in fresh water, though there do not appear to be any species that live their entire lives in fresh water. Morays are ambush predators who rely on the element of surprise. They live in small, tight places such as holes in coral, gaps between rocks, or sandy burrows. When prey passes, the eel can lunge out and grab it. Unlike most fish, the eel cannot use suction feeding due to the shapes of their mouths. They have to rely on lunging froward and catching prey with their mouths. Their mouths are adapted in shape to push water to the sides. This reduces water resistance and avoids creating a wave that could push prey away from the eel. If an eel catches prey that cannot be swallowed whole, it will tie itself in a knot while biting on to the food. By pulling its head through the loop, the eel can rip the food into bite-sized pieces. Spending most of their times in burrows also provides protection from predators, especially in juveniles or smaller species. At night, the eels will come out of their burrows to hunt sleeping prey while the larger predators are asleep. Giant morays have also been seen engaging in interspecies cooperative hunting with roving coral groupers (Plectropomus pessuliferus). The eels can fit into small crevices the groupers can't to flush prey into the grouper's path while catching their own. Morays are mostly solitary species and many can be territorial. They are known to be shy and will retreat into their burrows if they feel threatened. They are also curious and many species are quite intelligent.

(Image: a male ribbon eel (Rhinomuraena quaesita) on a coral reef. It is a very long and slender eel with its body curved in many waves. It is brightly colored, with a blue-purple body, yellow fin and face, and a long black and white stripe running down the back half of the body. On the nostrils are two feather-like structures. End ID)

Morays reproductive strategies are poorly known and differ based on species. While many species seem to have no set mating season and will reproduce whenever they can, others will mate at the same time every year. Some species seem to have dedicated spots to lay their eggs and a few are believed to be anadromous, meaning they travel from the sea to fresh water to spawn. Meanwhile, some of the species that spend a lot of time in fresh water are catadromous, meaning they return to sea to mate. Females will lay their eggs and the male fertilize them. After this, they depart, providing no parental care. As with all true eels, moray eels begin life as leptocephalus larvae. This type of fish larvae is notable for its resemblance to a simple, transparent leaf with a head on one end. These larvae are unique and poorly understood, despite being the larval stage of a lot of different species of fish. They are unusually well developed for larvae, capable of active swimming and generally living life. In fact, some particularly large leptocephalus larvae were initially mistaken for adult fish. They feed mostly on bits of drifting organic material called marine snow and can remain in the larval stage for up to 3 years, with those in colder conditions usually taking longer to metamorphose. All leptocephalus larvae start out with no sex organs, then develop female organs, then develop male ones, becoming simultaneous hermaphrodites. They will ultimately become eith male or female and it is likely that environmental factors are the main determining factor. During metamorphosis into a juvenile, the leptocephalus can reduce in size by up to 90%, resulting in the juvenile being smaller than the larva. The process of maturation is poorly understood, but it seems that most morays will be sexually mature by three years of age.

(Image: multiple photos of a particularly large leptocephalus larva (not sure what species). It is a translucent organis, wth a body shaped like a very long leaf, narrow at both ends. In the frint is a very tiny head. End ID)

Morays are shy and generally avoid humans. Though some cultures have hunted them for food, they are often not considered a particularly good food source. Many species have high levels of chemicals called ciguatoxins in their bodies, which can lead to a condition called ciguatera fish poisoning if eaten. The largest threat to morays is habitat loss. This is especially true for the many species that live in coral reefs, which are in increasing danger due to global warming. Attacks on humans are rare and usually happen as a response to a human sticking their hand in the eel's burrow. Some of the large species could cause significant damage with a bite. Some species, usually the smaller ones, are found in the aquarium trade, thought they are not good pets for beginners as even the smallest morays are still large for aquarium fish and have some specific requirements. The curiosity many morays have has led to some becoming familiar with and even friendly to humans, often the result of feeding them. They can recognize individual humans and remember them over the course of years. Aquarium employees sometimes report that the eels will come to nuzzle and play with them and have personalities like dogs. Marine biologists and professional SCUBA divers Ron and Valorie Taylor befriended a pair of eels they named Harry and Fang at the Great Barrier Reef who would remember them and come out to visit them year after year.

(Image: a SCUBA diver hugging a large, brown moray with black spots. End ID)

(Video: A shot video showing Valeria Taylor and a moray eel she befriended)

(Video: the song "That's a Moray", a parody of the song "That's Amore" by Dean Martin)

[reasonsforhope]

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is, by some measures, the most popular leader in the world. Prior to the 2024 election, his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) held an outright majority in the Lok Sabha (India’s Parliament) — one that was widely projected to grow after the vote count. The party regularly boasted that it would win 400 Lok Sabha seats, easily enough to amend India’s constitution along the party's preferred Hindu nationalist lines.

But when the results were announced on Tuesday, the BJP held just 240 seats. They not only underperformed expectations, they actually lost their parliamentary majority. While Modi will remain prime minister, he will do so at the helm of a coalition government — meaning that he will depend on other parties to stay in office, making it harder to continue his ongoing assault on Indian democracy.

So what happened? Why did Indian voters deal a devastating blow to a prime minister who, by all measures, they mostly seem to like?

India is a massive country — the most populous in the world — and one of the most diverse, making its internal politics exceedingly complicated. A definitive assessment of the election would require granular data on voter breakdown across caste, class, linguistic, religious, age, and gender divides. At present, those numbers don’t exist in sufficient detail. 

But after looking at the information that is available and speaking with several leading experts on Indian politics, there are at least three conclusions that I’m comfortable drawing.

First, voters punished Modi for putting his Hindu nationalist agenda ahead of fixing India’s unequal economy. Second, Indian voters had some real concerns about the decline of liberal democracy under BJP rule. Third, the opposition parties waged a smart campaign that took advantage of Modi’s vulnerabilities on the economy and democracy.

Understanding these factors isn’t just important for Indians. The country’s election has some universal lessons for how to beat a would-be authoritarian — ones that Americans especially might want to heed heading into its election in November.

-via Vox, June 7, 2024. Article continues below.

A new (and unequal) economy

Modi’s biggest and most surprising losses came in India’s two most populous states: Uttar Pradesh in the north and Maharashtra in the west. Both states had previously been BJP strongholds — places where the party’s core tactic of pitting the Hindu majority against the Muslim minority had seemingly cemented Hindu support for Modi and his allies.

One prominent Indian analyst, Yogendra Yadav, saw the cracks in advance. Swimming against the tide of Indian media, he correctly predicted that the BJP would fall short of a governing majority.

Traveling through the country, but especially rural Uttar Pradesh, he prophesied “the return of normal politics”: that Indian voters were no longer held spellbound by Modi’s charismatic nationalist appeals and were instead starting to worry about the way politics was affecting their lives.

Yadav’s conclusions derived in no small part from hearing voters’ concerns about the economy. The issue wasn’t GDP growth — India’s is the fastest-growing economy in the world — but rather the distribution of growth’s fruits. While some of Modi’s top allies struck it rich, many ordinary Indians suffered. Nearly half of all Indians between 20 and 24 are unemployed; Indian farmers have repeatedly protested Modi policies that they felt hurt their livelihoods.

“Everyone was talking about price rise, unemployment, the state of public services, the plight of farmers, [and] the struggles of labor,” Yadav wrote...

“We know for sure that Modi’s strongman image and brassy self-confidence were not as popular with voters as the BJP assumed,” says Sadanand Dhume, a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute who studies India. 

The lesson here isn’t that the pocketbook concerns trump identity-based appeals everywhere; recent evidence in wealthier democracies suggests the opposite is true. Rather, it’s that even entrenched reputations of populist leaders are not unshakeable. When they make errors, even some time ago, it’s possible to get voters to remember these mistakes and prioritize them over whatever culture war the populist is peddling at the moment.

Liberalism strikes back

The Indian constitution is a liberal document: It guarantees equality of all citizens and enshrines measures designed to enshrine said equality into law. The signature goal of Modi’s time in power has been to rip this liberal edifice down and replace it with a Hindu nationalist model that pushes non-Hindus to the social margins. In pursuit of this agenda, the BJP has concentrated power in Modi’s hands and undermined key pillars of Indian democracy (like a free press and independent judiciary).

Prior to the election, there was a sense that Indian voters either didn’t much care about the assault on liberal democracy or mostly agreed with it. But the BJP’s surprising underperformance suggests otherwise.

The Hindu, a leading Indian newspaper, published an essential post-election data analysis breaking down what we know about the results. One of the more striking findings is that the opposition parties surged in parliamentary seats reserved for members of “scheduled castes” — the legal term for Dalits, the lowest caste grouping in the Hindu hierarchy.

Caste has long been an essential cleavage in Indian politics, with Dalits typically favoring the left-wing Congress party over the BJP (long seen as an upper-caste party). Under Modi, the BJP had seemingly tamped down on the salience of class by elevating all Hindus — including Dalits — over Muslims. Yet now it’s looking like Dalits were flocking back to Congress and its allies. Why?

According to experts, Dalit voters feared the consequences of a BJP landslide. If Modi’s party achieved its 400-seat target, they’d have more than enough votes to amend India’s constitution. Since the constitution contains several protections designed to promote Dalit equality — including a first-in-the-world affirmative action system — that seemed like a serious threat to the community. It seems, at least based on preliminary data, that they voted accordingly.

The Dalit vote is but one example of the ways in which Modi’s brazen willingness to assail Indian institutions likely alienated voters.

Uttar Pradesh (UP), India’s largest and most electorally important state, was the site of a major BJP anti-Muslim campaign. It unofficially kicked off its campaign in the UP city of Ayodhya earlier this year, during a ceremony celebrating one of Modi’s crowning achievements: the construction of a Hindu temple on the site of a former mosque that had been torn down by Hindu nationalists in 1992. 

Yet not only did the BJP lose UP, it specifically lost the constituency — the city of Faizabad — in which the Ayodhya temple is located. It’s as direct an electoral rebuke to BJP ideology as one can imagine.

In Maharashtra, the second largest state, the BJP made a tactical alliance with a local politician, Ajit Pawar, facing serious corruption charges. Voters seemingly punished Modi’s party for turning a blind eye to Pawar’s offenses against the public trust. Across the country, Muslim voters turned out for the opposition to defend their rights against Modi’s attacks.

The global lesson here is clear: Even popular authoritarians can overreach.

By turning “400 seats” into a campaign slogan, an all-but-open signal that he intended to remake the Indian state in his illiberal image, Modi practically rang an alarm bell for constituencies worried about the consequences. So they turned out to stop him en masse.

The BJP’s electoral underperformance is, in no small part, the direct result of their leader’s zealotry going too far.

Return of the Gandhis? 

Of course, Modi’s mistakes might not have mattered had his rivals failed to capitalize. The Indian opposition, however, was far more effective than most observers anticipated.

Perhaps most importantly, the many opposition parties coordinated with each other. Forming a united bloc called INDIA (Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance), they worked to make sure they weren’t stealing votes from each other in critical constituencies, positioning INDIA coalition candidates to win straight fights against BJP rivals.

The leading party in the opposition bloc — Congress — was also more put together than people thought. Its most prominent leader, Rahul Gandhi, was widely dismissed as a dilettante nepo baby: a pale imitation of his father Rajiv and grandmother Indira, both former Congress prime ministers. Now his critics are rethinking things.

“I owe Rahul Gandhi an apology because I seriously underestimated him,” says Manjari Miller, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.

Miller singled out Gandhi’s yatras (marches) across India as a particularly canny tactic. These physically grueling voyages across the length and breadth of India showed that he wasn’t just a privileged son of Indian political royalty, but a politician willing to take risks and meet ordinary Indians where they were. During the yatras, he would meet directly with voters from marginalized groups and rail against Modi’s politics of hate.

“The persona he’s developed — as somebody kind, caring, inclusive, [and] resolute in the face of bullying — has really worked and captured the imagination of younger India,” says Suryanarayan. “If you’ve spent any time on Instagram Reels, [you’ll see] an entire generation now waking up to Rahul Gandhi’s very appealing videos.”

This, too, has a lesson for the rest of the world: Tactical innovation from the opposition matters even in an unfair electoral context.

There is no doubt that, in the past 10 years, the BJP stacked the political deck against its opponents. They consolidated control over large chunks of the national media, changed campaign finance law to favor themselves, suborned the famously independent Indian Electoral Commission, and even intimidated the Supreme Court into letting them get away with it. 

The opposition, though, managed to find ways to compete even under unfair circumstances. Strategic coordination between them helped consolidate resources and ameliorate the BJP cash advantage. Direct voter outreach like the yatra helped circumvent BJP dominance in the national media.

To be clear, the opposition still did not win a majority. Modi will have a third term in office, likely thanks in large part to the ways he rigged the system in his favor.

Yet there is no doubt that the opposition deserves to celebrate. Modi’s power has been constrained and the myth of his invincibility wounded, perhaps mortally. Indian voters, like those in Brazil and Poland before them, have dealt a major blow to their homegrown authoritarian faction.

And that is something worth celebrating.

-via Vox, June 7, 2024.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

case of the day | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

everyone was tired. it’s been a week long case out of state with a time zone difference of four hours, everyone was thrown off. but the bad guy was caught, the lives of those taken will sit somewhere in those dark corners of your mind, always giving you reason to try and work just a second faster.

“hey,” a soft voice spoke beside you. it pulled you from your heavy thoughts, you blinked and turned to see that spencer’s joined you on the jet couch. your word search book and highlighters sitting in your lap while spencer held a thick book on string theory, he probably already knows everything about that theory though.

“hi,” greeting him back as you bring yourself back to the present. no one on your team was hurt, everyone is going back to their lives and loved ones. “do you want to get something to eat when we land?”

it’ll be about four in the afternoon when the jet lands, your breakfast and inflight snacks long gone. spencer’s mouth twisted to the side in thought, it was cute. “there’s this indian place if you’d like.” his eyes were alight at the mention of the restaurant, probably a favorite of his.

you smiled small, “i haven’t had much of the flavor, but i’d like to try.” always happy to spend time with spencer outside of the office. you took him to this coffee shop that housed a book nook, he showed you were he has his weekly chess meeting at the park. you’ll have to think of another place to bring him after this.

“you doing okay?” his soft question caused you to keep your eyes on your lap. you weren’t sure why it was this case that’s caused your mind to think the most of, maybe it’s one of those things were after a certain amount it’s your way of reminding you about the severity of your job.

his hand set atop yours, his thumb bringing a comforting motion to your skin. you’ve noticed how spencer’s more okay with touch when it comes to you, elle teases you about it, but you’re happy to know he’s the most comfortable with you.

your eyes focused on spencer’s chin, “do you ever have a case that reminds you how many disturbed people there are? that it’s our job to stop these people before more are killed at their actions.” now bringing your head up a little higher, lids heavy and eyes sorrowful.

you sighed deeply, “i know it’s different between us since you’re in the field and have a gun. and i’m just a liaison dealing with the media, but- anyway.” shrugging off your sentence.

spencer rolled his lips, brows pinching in the middle as he analyzed over your words. his palm was still warming your knuckles, “there was this one case. a guy who was kidnapping then killing families after a week, he took three families before we were called in. and we got him before the fourth family met the same fate, and when he was taken into custody for questioning he said “the fathers are a disgrace. mothers the whore. and a child the mistake.””

you saw his adam’s apple bob when he took a deep swallow. you moved your pinky to graze the side of his hand. “and i just thought, he’s heard and or seen these things to just think that about every family that resembles his. his upbringing was that torn up he only saw one thing, even if the family he was stalking were happily safe and loving to each other.”

spencer leaned his head against the backrest, his eyes a bit glossed over. you just made him relive that case, clear as day for him. with your free hand you let your fingers card through the hair on the side of his head, sweeping over his ear and stopping at his jaw. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you relive that,” thumb giving a flick beside a freckle.

his fingers circled your wrist, “it’s okay. but also just because our jobs are a little different they’re both still very important to this department. you’re an important member of this team.” raising his brows for extra emphasis.

“thank you,” you whispered. “why don’t you get some rest? here,” having to move your book and highlighters to the side and getting yourself a bit more comfortable. “use my lap.”

“you sure?” “of course.”

spencer shuffled around then set his head to your lap, his long legs stretched and bent to the end of the couch. he stared up at you while you looked down, “is it okay if i touch your hair?” he smiled, “of course.”

with soft, soothing repetition you saw how spencer’s muscles loosened. “tell me about string theory,” just wanting to hear his voice uninterrupted.

“well, string theory is a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects called strings…”

both of you didn’t notice how gideon and hotch were eyeing the both of you near the front of the jet. a tiny smile cracking that stone facade of hotch. “they’re good for each other.”

“it’s always nice to have someone or something important to take comfort in with this line of work. keeps use sane and human.” gideon spoke before returning to his paperwork.

[vivwritesfics]

Indian Summer

A collection of moments from their summer together. Lando and Oscar fell hard for her, but it wasn't meant to last. Summer was all they had.

I've missed Landoscar so much you guys

2.3K

F1 Masterlist

November was unseasonably warm as Lando sat in Oscar's London apartment. It happened more often than not now, the two of them reminiscing over the summer.

More often than not it ended with the two of them in tears. It had been an amazing summer, the best of their lives. But it was over, and nothing would ever be the same again. They both accepted it as they clinked their beers together and looked through the pictures.

She was in most of them.

Oscar had met her first. It was the Spanish Grand Prix and she was clearly lost. She marched in front of the McLaren garage several times, going back and forth, searching for where she was supposed to be.

Some of the mechanics noticed her, but they didn't do anything. Oscar saw her out of the corner of his eye. He thought nothing of it at first, went back to his conversation with his engineer.

He noticed when she walked past again. And then again. And then for a third time. That was when Oscar knew he had to do something about it. He, a rookie, plucked up the courage and walked over to her. He tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around, her brows furrowed.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded her head. "Just trying to find my way," she answered, glancing down at the map on her phone.

Oscar looked at her phone, at where she was trying to get to. He knew just enough to point her in the right direction. Her grin was wide as she started off in that direction, thanking him as she went. That was when Oscar realised that she had no idea who he was.

He couldn't get her out of his head for the rest of the Grand Prix. He didn't tell Lando about this interaction, he had no need to. She was his little secret, something just for him.

There wasn't a picture of that moment in either of their phones. It wasn't something he'd ever forget; he didn't need a picture.

Her first interaction with Lando was only slightly different.

It was the Austrian Grand Prix, a week after she'd met Oscar. This time she managed to find away, but she still took a slow stroll past the McLaren garage, hoping to see the man that had helped her this time.

No, she didn't know it was the Oscar Piastri, didn't realise the young McLaren Rookie had been the one to help her. She just knew it was a handsome young man in orange.

She didn't see him. There were too many people in orange to decipher which one was him.

But she did recognise Lando Norris, and he was staring straight at her, grin on his face.

Holy fuck, when Lando Norris looks at you, its a different experience. It wasn't even like he was giving her a small glance. He was straight up staring at her. She couldn't look away from him - his blue eyed stare was somewhat intoxicating.

It was almost like déjà vu when he walked over to her. Suddenly she was thinking about the man that had helped her at the Spanish Grand Prix. "Are you okay?" He asked, much in the same way Oscar had the week before.

She nodded her head. "Just looking for someone," she said, keeping her cool. Lando Norris was talking to her and she was managing to keep her cool. It was a day she was going to celebrate. "Good luck out there," she said and walked away before she could make a fool of herself in front of one of the drivers.

Lando strode back into the garage as she walked away. He wore a smug smirk as he walked back over to Oscar. "I've just met a really pretty girl," he said.

That night she and the friends she went to the Grand Prix with decided to go to the club. They got to the club early and it was empty, empty enough to easily get a drink.

The drivers were in the club hours later. Lando dragged Oscar with his for this one and only time. And Oscar agreed, just to get him to leave him alone.

Oscar spotted her first. He strode over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.

But she couldn't hear him over the music. "McLaren Guy!" She shouted and wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you stalking me?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"You know it!" She shouted back.

They started dancing together, bodies grinding together. She had her arms wrapped around his thick neck and his hands were on her waist as they moved. Her fingers were moving through his hair as he kissed her.

Lando was too wrapped up in having fun with Carlos to notice Oscar. But he eventually disappeared, either going off for more drinks or to go to the bathroom.

He spotted her dancing alone. Lando couldn't stop himself from walking over. "Hey," he said after he had recognised her. "You're the girl from the Grand prix, right?"

She held her hand out towards him. "I'm Y/N," she said into his ear.

Lando started dancing with her. He couldn't help himself, she was gorgeous. The way her body moved against his had him throwing his head back. That was before he leaned down to kiss her, his hands gripping her ass.

Oscar must have seen it. He was looked around for her, only to spot her dancing with his teammate. He couldn't be mad - she was just some girl in the club. Oscar had no claim to her.

She left the club that night with Lando's phone number. Of course, she didn't expect him to text her, but he did, making sure she got home okay. It was incredibly sweet of him.

There were pictures in Lando's phone from that night. They were blurry and they could just about make out her pretty face. At first, Oscar didn't want to remember that night. But the pictures of her in that dress had him changing his mind.

The next time they saw her was the British Grand Prix, just a week later. She was there as Lando's guest, meant to be watching the Grand Prix from the back of the garage.

It was his home race, a special one. She was obviously following the Formula One around the world anyway; Lando couldn't stop himself from inviting her along for this one. His parents were going to be there too, watching with her in the back of the garage.

That was when she saw Oscar in his race suit for the first time. Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, McLaren guy," she said upon seeing him. "You're Oscar Piastri? The other driver?" She squeaked.

"You didn't know?" He replied, clearly surprised. e

"No! I thought you were just... some guy!"

Just some guy, that was why he made out with her teammate.

She may have been there as Lando's guest, but that wasn't going to stop her from flirting with Oscar. She liked two guys, was that really a crime?

Lando was on the Podium and Oscar was nearly on the podium. They had to celebrate, and they had to take her with them. Once again they dragged Oscar out for drinks, but she barely touched the alcohol.

By the end of the night she was kissing the both of them. Lando first, his hands on her waist. Oscar didn't see it as he stole her breath and let his tongue explore her mouth.

When Lando went elsewhere, Oscar got his kiss. It was a lot more dominating, and she couldn't get enough. His hands were holding the back of her head, holding her close as he kissed her.

Later, Lando would blame this on the alcohol, but when he saw Oscar kissing her, he walked up behind her and began kissing down her neck. Oscar spotted him, but he didn't pull away. Especially when she began making those little noises.

They had just one picture from that night. She'd taken Lando's phone from her pocket and snapped a picture of the three of them, Lando and Oscar holding her between them. It would become a favourite picture for the boys, one they visited often when they spoke about it.

She went to the next two Grand Prix with them, watched from the back of the garage as Lando and Oscar raced. After races they'd head back to one of their hotel rooms, the three of them sharing the same bed.

In the privacy of their hotel room, Lando snapped pictures of them. His favourite was one of Oscar behind her, his arms wrapped around her chest, keeping things private as he kissed down her neck. The picture was still intimate, though.

The three of them wouldn't just hide away in their hotel room. On the rare instance that they were feeling brave, the three of them would go out for dinner. She'd insist on getting a picture.

But, most of the time they wouldn't. They'd hide away and eat a post-race pizza. They had pictures of that, too. The three of them smiling with pizza in their mouths. These were Oscars favourite pictures; the ones of the three of them together like this, having fun, being soft.

Lando's usual summer break was usually full of golf. He was still going to golf, but he had bigger priorities now. His priorities were her and Oscar.

It was his idea to go to Australia. Oscar was over the moon to be taking them to his home. He drew up an itinerary of all the places he wanted to take them, all the things he wanted them to do.

Lando got them to play golf. He taught them both, had his arms wrapped around the both of them as he taught them how to swing. Those were his favourite days in Australia.

They did a lot of exploring. Those were her favourite days, to explore Oscar's home. He loved it to, loved to see her eyes light up with curiosity as she led them along an unknown path. Both Oscar and Lando had pictures of that. Of her in her shorts and bikini top, backpack on her bag as she led the way.

They were in Australia, but Oscar didn't want them to meet his parents. Not yet, he wasn't ready for that. But one day they would, he was sure of it. These were the people he could see his future with.

Australia wasn't all they did over summer break.

They went on holiday, flew to Spain and stayed in a private villa. The two requirements they had for the villa was privacy, and a big enough bed for the three of them. Nights laying together, tangled in the sheets, sweat covering their bodies and breathless, were like no other.

It was amazing.

"We'll go skiing together in the winter," Lando whispered as he kissed her shoulder in the early hours of the morning. She was wearing one of Oscar's shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts as she leaned over the balcony, looking at the view.

Lando stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her, her back pressed against his warm, bare chest. She could feel his cool necklace through the shirt. "I'd like that," she whispered, shutting her eyes as she leaned against him.

Oscar brought her coffee. None for Lando, he didn't like coffee. The three of them sat on the balcony together, leaning against each other as they looked at the view.

These were the best days of their lives.

They had so many pictures to commemorate summer break. Pictures of her in the pool, pictures of her sat with Lando on a sun lounger, pictures of her and Oscar holding each other on the balcony. She was in every single picture.

But summer break came and went. In late August racing resumed. Maybe the McLaren drivers were being foolish when they thought she'd come with them, that she'd follow them across the world. She'd done it before, what was stopping her from doing it now?

Suddenly, she wasn't at the Grand Prix with them. Suddenly, she wasn't answering texts or calls. Lando and Oscar both thought the worst. What if something had happened to her? Neither of them could stop their thoughts from racing, their hearts from breaking.

After a month of radio silence, she finally answered their group chat messages. For that entire month, she hadn't so much as looked at their messages (and they'd been checking). September was colder than either of them had expected.

The text was vague. So fucking vague. I can't do this anymore, she sent and left their group chat.

They didn't know what they'd done to cause this, to drive her away. They didn't know what they could have done to make her stay. But there wasn't anything they could have done. This was inevitable. It was always going to happen.

She was always going to leave them. Dating two high profile drivers wasn't something she could handle. They'd always have summer, though, she told herself as she sent that text.

That summer had changed everything for Lando and Oscar. With her gone, all they had was each other and the pictures. The pictures of her. They couldn't stop themselves from going through the folders, reminiscing on a better time.

At least one of them would end up crying, but the beer definitely didn't help.

Soon the boys realised it was nothing more than a fling, but it was a fling they'd never forget. She'd be a fling they'd never forget, and they would never stop searching for her.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Flower

beautiful words with "flower" to plant in your next poem/story

Blanketflower - gaillardia—i.e., any of a genus (Gaillardia) of American composite herbs with showy flower heads

Cuckooflower - a bitter cress (Cardamine pratensis) of Eurasia and North America; ragged robin (i.e., a perennial herb, Lychnis flos-cuculi, of the pink family cultivated for its pink flowers with narrow-lobed petals)

Dayflower - any of a genus (Commelina) of herbs of the spiderwort family having one petal smaller than the other two

Flowerage - a flowering process, state, or condition

Floweriness - of, relating to, or resembling flowers; marked by or given to rhetorical elegance

Foamflower - a spring-flowering herb (Tiarella cordifolia) of eastern North America that has white flowers with long stamens and no stem leaves; also called: false miterwort

Gillyflower - carnation (i.e., a plant of any of numerous often cultivated and usually double-flowered varieties or subspecies of an Old World pink, Dianthus caryophyllus, found in many color variations; also: a moderate red; archaic: the variable color of human flesh)

Globeflower - any of a genus (Trollius) of plants of the buttercup family usually with globose yellow or orange flowers

Nonflowering - producing no flowers; specifically: lacking a flowering stage in the life cycle

Pasqueflower - any of several anemones with palmately compound leaves and large usually white or purple early spring flowers

Passionflower - any of a genus (Passiflora) of chiefly tropical woody tendriled climbing vines or erect herbs with usually showy flowers and pulpy often edible berries

Satinflower - honesty; blue-eyed grass; common chickweed; flannelflower; a plant or flower of the genus Godetia

Strawflower - any of several plants having everlasting flowers

Twinflower - a prostrate subshrub (Linnaea borealis) of the honeysuckle family that is found in cool regions of the northern hemisphere and has fragrant usually pink flowers

Waxflower - a climbing plant (Stephanotis floribunda) of Madagascar often cultivated in the greenhouse for its fragrant white flowers; an epiphytic tree (Clusia insignis) of British Guiana; indian pipe; spotted wintergreen

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Word Lists

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Guess what time it is…….

CENTIPEDE TIME !!! she’s finally real,,,,,,,, based off Scolopendra hardwickei or the Indian tiger centipede

Before I go about the process I just want to say you guys have been soooo incredible and I love reading your reblogs and I love the idea knowing I’ve inspired a lot of people,,, the project, although it was a lot of work and I’m feeling not so great as of posting this, still motivates me to want to make another.

(Art process below)

This was entirely freehanded! I have a lot of experience working in 3D art settings that this part came easy to me but I started with a flat base shaped in the pose I’d like the creature in. I used one whole piece cut from a shipping box and filled in the gaps with tape; you don’t need a single piece for the base but for structural integrity it helps a lot. As you can see here I also cut the legs separate and glued them on using hot glue. The vertical cross sections are to give an early support for the structure of the creature, think about the frames of aircraft or boats. During this part I used a pen to mark the width and height of the previous section to get a gradual flow of shapes.

This next part I wish I got more documentation on but after the vertical cross sections I used soda boxes for the thinner and flexible cardboard to add contour lines along the length of the creature, gluing them on the cross sections. I did about 2 strips of this on either side to fill in the space and then I continued to use soda boxes to fold and shape the top of the creature, gluing onto the strips rather than the cross sections (this part was a mistake but I quickly adapted, no issues happened but it did make it slightly less secure). I also gave the legs vertical cross sections as well to shape them for the masking tape.

The worst part, taping everything. I used tape to further shape it how I wanted but that meant going over parts several times. I used 2 different widths of tape for this for efficiency but it doesn’t matter. The legs were very loosely taped and if squeezed then they’d lose their shape; I didn’t bother filling them in because I don’t have materials for that and I let the paper mache help support them instead. Tape was also used to fill any holes and gaps left by the cardboard skeleton.

The next phase is paper mache of which I haven’t done since 5th grade… I was not confident in this step. I used mod podge and a brush to smooth down the paper. Because I lacked materials I used fast food napkins instead of newspaper which worked totally fine, it just tended to tear a bit easier. Some areas required me to get hands on and I don’t really like the texture during this stage so that was fun (lie). I didn’t do too many layers, one for the body and 3 for the back and legs but some projects might demand more. I used half of a 16oz bottle of mod podge btw so please get more than you think you need.

Finally, texture hell!!! I did a base coat of white spray paint and painted everything else with acrylic. Start with your lighter colors first before doing darker ones! I originally mixed some yellow and orange for the body and realized it was too bright and so covered it with orange instead. It also wasn’t until later I realized I could’ve been smarter with my paint so I skipped over the segments that were going to be fully black, saving the orange for the rest of the body. I wanted my centipede to stand out and not look 2D color-wise so I also used the red for the head and tail to give gradients and edges to the orange segments and legs, later going back with burgundy to further darken them but not too much. For the black segments I also used a very watered down layer of sky blue to give a fake shine and show the intended structure of the segments. Do not be afraid to use your hands! I used mine to smudge my detail paints like the black fade on the legs and the back shading. To top it all off I sprayed a clear coat and punched two holes in the underside to hang it up, using thumbtacks angled upwards.

[matan4il]

"That means that if the UN correctly represents the global population, about 1 in every 4 of its members, is antisemitic" i...hadn't actually considered that. a representative body of a world that hates jews isn't going to be fair to jews now is it

Hi Nonnie!

Absolutely it would not be.

I'm glad I can point that out. Just to repeat, a global survey by the ADL found that 26% of adults worldwide (slightly more than 1 in every 4 adult humans) responded in the affirmative to at least 6 out of 11 antisemitic statements. TBH, I think it's very possible that this is an underestimate (it's easy to only respond affirmatively to the more "socially acceptable" statements, like "Jews are more loyal to Israel than to their own country" and stay below the minimal 6 out of 11 statements required on this survey to be labeled an antisemite), but it's still the best measure we have, and it's probably very telling that it could be that easy to be antisemitic, but not be defined as such in this poll, yet 26% of all people surveyed were still classified that way.

Regarding the UN, we can talk about the fact that it has never excluded Iran, a country that officially denies the Holocaust, and has repeatedly called for the destruction of Israel, the biggest Jewish community in the world today.

We can talk about its long history of treating anything in which Israel is involved, as if it causes much graver harm than any other global crime, which means it belittles countless atrocities, ignores crimes committed against Israelis, while also blowing out of proportion anything that can be weaponized against the one Jewish state. This pattern of discrimination against the only Jewish state in the world, in a way that's inconsistent with how every other country is treated, reveals an antisemitic bias. In fact, even some of the UN's heads have acknowledged that Israel was treated unfairly there.

We could talk about the UN's 1975 resolution that "Zionism is racism" (UNGA resolution 3379, which was eventually canceled in 1991 by UNGA resolution 46/86). Because the term 'Zionism' has been distorted by so many Israel and Jew haters, let's be clear: Zionism simply means accepting the Jewish right to self determination, meaning that Jews, just like every other nation out there, have the right to self rule in the Jewish ancestral homeland. From 1975 until 1991, for 16 full years, the UN actually said out loud that it's not racist for the Irish to want an independent Irish state, it's not racist for the Germans to want an independent German state, it's not racist for the Japanese to want an independent Japanese state, it's not racist for the Sudanese to want an independent Sudanese state, it's not racist for the Kurds to want an independent Kurdish state, it's not racist for the Indians to want an independent Indian state, but it is racist for the Jews to want an independent Jewish state. This resolution, denying the Jews their right to self determination, coming from an institute that supports and recognizes the universal right to self determination for every other nation, is discriminatory against Jews. It is antisemitic. Let that sink in, that the UN did not hesitate in passing an openly antisemitic resolution, and it took them no less than 16 years to wipe this stain from the UN's record.

BTW, resolution 3379 was sponsored by the members of the Arab League and several Muslim majority countries (25 sponsor countries in total). So, the starting point was a ratio of 25 Israel hating countries to 1 Jewish state. It was then further supported by countries that were aligned with the Soviet Bloc (most of which were dictatorships with no human rights, and not caring at all about fighting racism of any kind), because during the years of the cold war, Israel was a part of the democratic west, while the USSR supported the Arab League. This anti-west, anti-democracy axis still exists to a great degree (with some changes regarding which country is aligned with which side), and is probably even more relevant today than 12 years ago, as recent events in the Middle East show. Lastly, the resolution was supported by additional anti-democracy countries. What chance do the Jews have at the UN? We are outnumbered at this organization, that applies no penalties or limitations for non-democratic or antisemitic countries. It's an example of how treating anti-democratic countries democratically is just a reward for the enemies of democracy.

And in continuation to all that, the UN has also repeatedly created bodies dedicated solely to Palestinians, their needs and rights. Again, it implies they must be treated worse than every other nation, if they get special treatment. But you're not gonna find the Palestinians on any list of the deadliest conflicts in history, or even just since WWII, or even just currently active...

Even if we were to accept every grievance the Palestinians make at face value (maybe other than Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas' antisemitic and Holocaust distorting statement that "Israel has committed 50 Holocausts"), then it's still nowhere near many other atrocities. So WHY are the Palestinians being treated differently? There's only one thing that stands out about their grievances, and that is that they can be used to harm the only Jewish state in the world, which protects all Jews, and is home to the biggest Jewish community we have today. To use a Hebrew phrase, it's not done out of the love of Haman, it's done out of the hatred of Mordecai.

I hope this expansion on the way the UN's structure makes it inherently prone to antisemitic abuse of Israel helped a bit. I also hope you're well! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[weirdnaturalscience]

I’ll start!

1. the clitoris is present in ALL mammal species, as well as many species of birds and reptiles.

2. the clitoris is mostly internal, much larger than you think, and capable of erection. It is made of the exact same tissue types as the penis. It extends from the head of the clitoris (external) all the way to the sides of the vaginal opening (internal), sometimes beyond. it also extends laterally.

3. the full, accurate anatomy of the clitoris is missing from most medical texts. Doctors who perform pelvic surgeries may not know where your clitoral nerves are, and may sever them.

4. most women cannot orgasm without clitoral stimulation, and yet many men expect them to. I suggest these men orgasm without penile stimulation.

5. Indian flying foxes have been observed engaging in cunnilingus, which increases the duration of penetrative sex. Non-human primates have also been observed engaging in cunnilingus.

6. Clitoral stimulation causes ovulation in some mammals for whom the clitoris lies inside the vaginal canal, suggesting an evolutionary function for the clitoris.

7. Some people like to hypothesize that the clitoris is vestigial, despite zero scientific evidence to back this up.

8. The scientific study of the clitoris has been severely impacted by misogyny. Misogyny is also evident in the lack of sex education on the clitoris, where it is often omitted or only discussed briefly.

9. The clitoris has over 10,000 nerve endings.

10. The clitoris is THE source of sexual pleasure and sexual function for 50% of our population.

[whencyclopedia]

Manticore

The Manticore, derived from the Early Middle Persian merthykhuwar or martiora, meaning "man-eater" (also known as a mantichora or a martichore), is a fearsome hybrid creature found in classical and medieval literature. It has the body of a lion, the head of a man and a scorpion tail that can shoot poisonous darts.

The manticore is one of the most bizarre and ferocious creatures depicted throughout classical and medieval bestiaries. Its roots can be traced back to India and Persia (modern-day Iran). The myth of the manticore spreads over several centuries and is mentioned most famously by Ctesias (5th century BCE), Pliny the Elder (23-79 CE) and Pausanias (c. 115 to c. 180 CE).

Appearance & Characteristics

The earliest known mention of the manticore comes from the Greek historian and physician Ctesias in his Indica (written in the 5th century BCE). Although the Indica is now lost to time, fragments of Ctesias' work exist in other authors' writings, and we have a clear description of the manticore. According to Pliny the Elder in his Natural History:

Ctesias writes that amongst these same men there is found an animal called the Mantichora which has three rows of teeth like a comb, the face and ears of a human, and bluish eyes. It is red in colour with the body of a lion and a tail with stingers like a scorpion. Its voice is as if the sounds of the pipe were mixed with a trumpet and it is a creature of great speed which avidly goes after human flesh. (8.75)

Pliny's account of the manticore influenced later writers. He seemed to give the monster a basis in reality as he was considered the expert on strange and marvellous creatures for hundreds of years.

The morphology of the manticore was believed to have developed from its environment – the rugged and barren landscape of the Indian and Middle Eastern deserts. It needed to be fierce and to have weapons at its disposal to be able to catch its prey and prevent being caught by predators. Initially preying on animals like pigs and mountain goats, the manticore began to be lured to villages by the livestock it was hunting and inevitably began to attack and feed on humans, establishing the lore of the man-eating manticore.

The manticore would famously leave no trace of its prey behind. It could attack a human up close with its sharp claws or shoot poisonous darts from its scorpion tail from a safe distance. When it unleashes the poisonous darts from its tail, the tail either bends back or stretches out. Roman writer Aelian (175-235 CE) states that "whatever it hits, it kills, with the exception of elephants" (Characteristics of Animals, 4.21). The poisonous stingers are described as being thick as a rope and one foot (30 cm) in length. Once a stinger has been discharged, another one grows in its place.

Manticores did not just satisfy their appetites by killing one human but would chase after multiple people at a time, taking great pleasure in the hunt. Its favourite way to lure and hunt prey was to hide its body in the long grass, so from a distance, all humans would be able to see would be a human head. Deceived by this, humans would get close to the manticore, and before they knew what was happening, they would be attacked and killed. This showed how cunning and clever the manticore was. Although humans were undoubtedly a manticore's preferred prey, they would also regularly hunt the animal kingdom, except for lions which they could never overpower.

In order to stop the manticores' aggressive nature, the Indians would hunt baby manticores and smash their tails with rocks to prevent them from growing and shooting their poisonous darts and thus taking away their ability to harm humans from a great distance. Manticores lived in burrows deep under the ground where they could hide from their prey and avoid being seen by humans.

Continue reading...

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

WEEWOO IM HERE FOR THE EVENT!! (also smth I noticed, you can't copy paste your moots @ from one post to another, bc they don't receive the notif;_; I checked my mentions for your @ and uh- nope)

ANYWAY "nights spent in" with Leona pls (or Ruggie or Kalim or Jack or Jamil 💀💀) I just want a lazy night with takeout and cuddles and looking at the city/town from the hotel or room balcony in peace but I also need this frigging degree-

Nights Spent In; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, so much fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; I came up with a whole meal for this and I want everything. All of the food mentioned is North Indian vegetarian food, except for Leona's. Best of luck with that degree, Soru!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were lounging on the sofa on the balcony, a light breeze coming off the waves helping cut most of the heat from the day as night slowly painted the sky in a deep navy. Honestly, you could fall asleep right here, since you were warm and very comfy. Count on the royal family of the Sunset Savannah to spare no expense, even when it came to their balcony furniture for the smallest of their vacation homes. 

Speaking of the Kingscholars, Leona had said that he was going out to grab you both dinner, which would have shocked anyone else, but he put in the work when it came to you. You were the exception. Of course, though, he expected something in return, which was usually either using you as his pillow or giving him a kiss… or several until he was satisfied with how fast he could make your heart flutter. Smug bastard…

“Hmm, I went through all the trouble of gettin’ you food and here you are nearly passed out,” he sighed, having sneaked up on you. But he sighed, putting the food down.

Leona leisurely walked over to you before promptly laying on top of you and resting his chin on your shoulder, trapping you. He let out a long sigh and bumped his head against yours.

Taking the message, you started scratching behind his ears and hummed. “I thought I had to pay you back after we ate,” you mused.

He chuffed, but his tail was slowly waving back and forth in a relaxed manner, he was only putting on a show. “You can pay me now and then,” he grumbled, looking up at you and raising a brow expectantly.

You knew that face, it was the face that he made when he wanted a kiss but didn’t want to say it. “You can get the rest of it, but after we eat-” your stomach made a low rumble underscoring your statement. “Before I decide to eat you instead,” you joked, and poked him in the ribs to prompt him to get off you.

Leona rolled his eyes, but yielded, he wanted his damn kisses sooner rather than later. Plus the last time he had decided to lay on you and prevent you from getting food, you had indeed bit him. Even though you didn’t really leave a mark, it still stung a bit, and he would rather not get teased by the others if they found out it had happened again.

“What did you get by the way,” you asked. Whatever it was smelled divine. Your stomach gurgled even louder, sounding more akin to some beast demanding food.

Leona chuckled a bit at the commotion, but brought the food out. “Went to a small place, family run and owned,” and he brought out several containers of food. He looked at his order, “Malai kofta, raita, paratha, mattar paneer-”

You saw one other container and raised a brow.

“Rogan josh,” he answered, swiping the container away from you.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were more than happy at the food he had got, and knew that he left a hefty tip even though he would deny it. Not only had he made you, and your ravenous stomach’s, night, but also the restaurant owners’ as well. 

Now content and full of food, the both of you laid in bed, your legs intertwined. “Thanks for getting dinner,” you hummed, feeling the sleepiness from earlier returning.

Leona turned his head to you, and rubbed circles on your hip, slowly. He was wearing the same expectant look again. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” But there was no smugness, Leona was full and just as tired as you, so he was more like a tired kitty looking for some love.

You shuffled over and placed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he let out a tired sigh, pupils dilating into round saucers. “I love you,” you placed another kiss on his lips before placing one on his scar and lingering there.

He bumped his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know… I love you too.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii @leonistic

[melbatron5000]

Two Crowleys

A while ago, the wonderful mind of @noneorother posted this meta about the puppets in the magic shop.

The observation that there appear to be two Crowleys in the shot of the puppet arrangement had me absolutely scratching my head and thinking they must be mistaken somehow.

(pic from @noneorother)

But then I got my hands on some of the Amazon X-ray extras, and discovered these little gems from the album covers in Maggie's record shop:

Now, going back to our color-coding for a moment, we may not know what all the colors in Good Omens mean, and we may not have all the colors down. But we do know a few, and we know that color-coding in Good Omens does exist, and that it matters.

Auburn and vavoom yellow are Crowley's colors. They are the colors of his hair and eyes. Black and scarlet red are the colors he wears. So those four colors are Crowley-coded colors. Okay.

Thus, these two record albums from Maggie's shop are Crowley-colored. Now, notice something important? Well, two things. The first -- Raga Koboj has TWO little sharp-clawed critters peering out at us from behind blinds. I daresay they are meant to be little cartoon demons, yes? And CT Bazz: Dank Balaclava features a face in a red ski mask. People usually wear ski masks if A. it's cold as tits outside, or B. if they're trying to hide their identity. So both albums feature Crowley colors AND images of hiding -- plus one features an image of twinsies.

The other important thing takes us back to color-coding. What other color do we see here besides our well-known Crowley colors? On Raga Koboj, the auburn and vavoom yellow blend into each other -- creating orange between them. And Dank Balaclava features a cigarette being lit -- with a little flair of orange fire.

(Edit to add: The name of that first album is Raga Koboj, which is a style of Indian music. A very famous tale in India is of the Warrior Goddess Kahli fighting demons who kept replicating themselves. Every time a drop of blood would hit the ground, a new demon would spring up. She went on a rampage trying to destroy them all, and her husband had to throw himself in her path to stop her. Hmm . . .)

This leads me to believe two things: Yes, TWO Crowleys. One Crowley in hiding, the other a twin. And that orange is Crowley's secret color.

Where else do we see orange?

Yep, the pillars in Aziraphale's shop. Which we also know is painted Crowley Auburn on the outside and Vavoom Yellow on the inside. With accents of this nice saffron orange on the pillars.

Want more proof? Okay.

Several people have noted that Aziraphale and Crowley keep to each other's right and left, respectively. Aziraphale on the right, Crowley on the left. In season 1, whenever they are on the opposite sides of each other, something's up. Not wrong, necessarily, but not in proper order. As in the image-swap/body-swap. Several people have also noted that Crowley is on Aziraphale's right far more frequently in season 2. And look here:

Aziraphale looks instinctively to his left when Crowley approaches -- only this Crowley, the twin, is not approaching on Aziraphale's left. This happens in more than one scene.

And when Aziraphale introduces Crowley to Nina in the coffee shop in episode one, he says, "This is, um, Crowley." As if he's quickly deciding how to name this individual who looks like his demon but approached on his right. Aziraphale "ums" and hesitates a lot this season, but he's also lying a lot. Hesitation and "um" is one of his tells.

I believe Aziraphale knows this isn't Crowley 1.0. But he acts and talks to this Crowley as if it's Crowley 1.0, so I don't think it's an imposter or someone pretending to be Crowley who isn't. I think Crowley's split himself in two. Am I sure about that? No. But it's where I'm leaning at this moment.

But Crowley 1.0 isn't missing entirely. Look here:

Aziraphale is looking over his left shoulder for his demon, and Crowley's right there, where he should be.

So yeah, TWO Crowleys.

Now where the heck is Crowley while his twin is out walking around on Aziraphale's right side? I really don't know what he might be up to, but I think he's in contact. Reachable, at least.

Let's look at this one again. Who's this?

No, not the guy in the foreground. The guy in the back. No, not the dude wearing tartan, the other guy. The guy in front of the ORANGE pillar, the guy on Crowley-twin's LEFT shoulder.

Is that Crowley 1.0? Or at least, a way for Crowley to be in touch while he's off doing whatever the heck he's doing? I think it is.

Would you like some more proof?

Okay. How about another record album from Maggie's shop?

Back to color-coding again. That baby-blue/red combo seems to indicate Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship together. The baby-blue is the color of Aziraphale's shirt, while the red is one that Crowley wears, mostly around his neck, although it also appears elsewhere in his costuming.

Au Revoir, Fingers! Crowley's just a head now. But a head has ears and eyes, so Aziraphale can communicate with it. As I suspect he tries to here, before Jim interrupts:

But wait. Back to Au Revoir Fingers for a moment. Red Eye Smile?

And red eyes? Fuck me.

A very few people have pointed out that there are lots of dual red taillights in multiple shots, frequently framed rather carefully. I had dismissed it, as I usually do when something turns out to be freaking important.

Someone's watching. I think it might be Crowley 1.0.

Then there's that bit where he's driving back to Whickber street, after coming back from Hell, and he first zooms around a bus with red taillights and says, "There's only room for one of us in this lane and it's not you," then he changes a pair of red stop lights to green and says "Don't you even think about it. There, that's better." Is he arguing with himself?? Telling the Other Crowley that it's his turn right now, not his? Of course I can't find a GIF or picture of that right now, but you know what I mean, right? Neil had to cut a bunch of material out of the finished show to fit Amazon's time limit requirements. That scene would seem to be an easy cut to make -- unless the scene matters to the overall plot too much to cut.

I also suspect that Crowley might be talking to himself in the book shop at the end of season 2. You know, when he turns Aziraphale's chair around to face the right way, but when Maggie and Nina come in it's facing the center of the room again? I suspect Crowley 1.0 and 2.0 had a chat. I do not know about what. Just sharing information?

I also wonder if Crowley 2.0 might have his own POV scenes -- thus confusing the already complicated POV situation even more. The white head statue sure gets several shots where it's in center frame, as if it is the POV character in that scene.

That's what I got, my fellow brain rotters. There's my evidence.

In conclusion: Two Crowleys. Yeah, I think so. Now, for the big question:

WHY???

What is Crowley doing that there needs to be two of him? And is it just twinsies, or is that someone else pretending to be Crowley and I'm wrong? Aziraphale definitely seems to know that's NOT his original Crowley, but tells the demon important information without hesitation, so I'm still suspecting Crowley twinned himself. But what if I'm wrong? Who is it then? And why are they pretending to be Crowley? And why does Aziraphale seem to know it's not Crowley, but still talk to him like it is?

I have no answers.

Thanks for crackpotting and going nuts with me, yet again. I hope this keeps you up at night like it's done me.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

"[Tulkas'] spouse is Nessa, the sister of Oromë, and she also is lithe and fleetfooted. Deer she loves, and they follow her train whenever she goes in the wild; but she can outrun them, swift as an arrow with the wind in her hair. In dancing she delights, and she dances in Valimar on lawns of never-fading green." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Valaquenta"

@ainurweek day 7 ⇢ NESSA

[ID: an edit comprised of six posters in shades of red, black, and brown, with some white and gold accents.

1: Sheerah Ravindren, a tamil model with brown skin and long black hair, some of which is braided. They are looking over their shoulder at the viewer with a neutral expression, surrounded by gold foliage on a red background. The image is framed by a white rectangle which cuts off in the upper left corner, where white cursive text reads "Nessa." White serif text in the bottom right corner reads "the dancer" in all caps / 2: A red-handled knife with a dangling tassel beside its matching red sheath on a black background. White text, some in cursive and some in the serif font, reads "And it is sung that in that feast of the Spring of Arda / 3: A deer's face emerging from dark shadows. Text in the same format as Image 2 reads "Tulkas espoused Nessa the sister of Oromë, and she danced" / 4: Sheerah Ravindren, this time facing the viewer with their hands resting on either side of their head. They wear no shirt, and their hair hangs over their chest, as well as several gold necklaces. Same text as Image 1, but the text has switched to the bottom left and top right corners / 5: Sheerah Ravindren facing the viewer and crossing their arms above their head as if dancing. Same text and format as Image 1 / 6: An indian classical dancer. The image shows multiple exposures, making the figure look like they are in several poses at once. Text in the same format as Images 2 and 3 reads "before the Valar upon the green grass of Almaren." //End ID]

[queenhunter102]

First date

Simon 'Ghost' Riley A first date with Simon would be slightly stressful, this man has not been on a date for a HOT minute, you know too busy doing missions or taking down threats, not to forget training and keeping morale with his teammates. So the fact that you said yes, the attractive next-door neighbour that he has fantasized about when both home and out on missions, to going out on a date him he was high strung and snappy like he would be late on picking you up, would fumble when he spoke, would stare daggers at the waiter and would hardly acknowledge on the date. It made you think that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but after dinner, he took you out to see a movie that is where you got to see the man under the mask, you saw the tension in his shoulders relaxed, his arms not so bulging under his shirt, he even placed his arm over the back of your seat, you relax a little into the chair resting your head onto his arm, as you two watched the movie. At the end of the date, he would walk you to your door like a true gentleman. “I-Uh-I understand if you don’t want to go out on another date with me” he says, as he rubs the back of his neck, you turn your head away so he doesn’t see you laugh, He pauses as he watches you feeling like he is letting his happiness slip through his fingers, he sighs as he turns to walk away. You gently grab his arm stopping him from leaving “Simon, wait” you say, he pauses as he turns to you, you laugh lightly as you reach up and kiss his cheek, “How about I plan the next date” you say, as you unlock your front door and walking inside.

Captain John Price Now John is an entirely different story, this man has been on several dates before, hell I see this man having a whole ‘Life-long’ partner, who dumped him because they couldn’t cope with being put below his team and his work. So this man is FAR more chill than Simon is he plans a nice little walk, a nice date at a restaurant and drinks at his place after, like he has it planned out, he had picked you up from your place, picking you up on time, opening the door like the gentleman he is. for the whole date, he is opening doors, holding out chairs, offering you his arm when he realises you can’t keep up with his pace, but as the date starts to wind down and he offers you drinks at your place he is shocked that you reject him. “You sure? I don’t mind taking you home later” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound creepy or one of those odd men, but when you shake your head and say “Sorry I have a thing about going to guy's places on the first date” He pouts a little before smiling and nodding his head, feeling a little disappointed, but understanding. “Let me drop you off home, I want to make sure you get home safe,” he says as he walks you to his car, before driving you home, as he walks from his car and to your front door, he leans against the frame of the door. “So after how many dates do you come over to a guy’s places,” he asks, as you half turn to him, “Four,” You say, as you lean against the door, he sticks out his lip as he nods his head “Sounds like a plan, I’ll get in contact soon for date number two,” he says as he walks off to his car.                                                   

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish

Now this man is prepared he has had months to plan this thing, you were the pretty cashier at his local shop, he was a little late picking you up for a drive-in movie, and he managed to get his friends to help him set up, he set up a little picnic at the back of his car, as he hands you a cup that is filled with shloer, as he dishes up a plate from a few take out places, from an Indian, Chinese and a chippy. He didn’t know quite what you liked so he stuck to the basics as he handed you the plate, as the movie came to an end he pulled out a tub of chocolate-covered fruit, popping it open as he offered you one. “I’m surprised you don’t drink,” You say, as you take a bite of the cold fruit, the temperature making your teeth hurt, he laughed as he took a bite of fruit “I don’t typically drink, although I can drink anyone under the table,” he said, as he took a sip of his shloer, by the time he brought you home, it was well after one in the morning when he walked you to your door. Alejandro Vargas

Now Alejandro is different the man has been on a few dates nothing spectacular, but he knows what people generally like and what they don’t, he wasn’t so surprised that you said yes. But he took you out on Valentine's Day unknown to him had marked him several points down on the dating list, as he held open the door and the date was disastrous he ordered for you, giving you a salad and ordering you wine, when you wanted something different. It had gotten so bad that you had walked to the bathroom and phoned your friend damn near crying because you hated this date, hoping they would bail you out of this horrific date, but alas they told you to stick it out for at least another half an hour before they bail you out.

You pushed your salad around your plate not being that interested in it and when he questioned you, you shrugged and said you must be coming down with something, he then took you to a bar to drink and you were banging your head off the table, wondering what made you say yes to that man, that boring man. You knew it was because he was handsome and it was your fault you were stranded at a bar with this boring ass man, when the date finally drew to a close and he dropped you off at home, walking you to your front door he stood beside you as you unlock the door. “So you and I go for another date,” he says sounding sexy, but you purse your lips as you turn to look at him, “I had a great time tonight, but I don’t think, we’re suited for each other” You say slowly, trying not to offend him, his brows crease “What?” “Date was shit, you were boring,” you say, just deciding to rip the bandage off, he blinks once, then twice before he leaned away “Ok, that’s a first, can I try again? I swear I am not a bad date,” he says, you chew on your bottom lip as you nod, “Fine”.                                                                                                                              Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Now our boy Kyle is highly has been watching John for a while, Christ we know John has taken all of his boys under his wing, but Kyle Specifically, Means that John has talked to Kyle about dates and how to look after his date. Kyle has notes, from all the boys except Simon who was a nervous wreck if Johnny was to be believed, but he figured that meant being eager, but not nervous eager, like this man as a whole mood board for the dates, and he plans how he was going to ask you. Like our man goes into over preparedness, he is ready for every scenario, even if you reject him, but he is over the moon when you say yes, even going so far as being all cool and calm, having a sly smile but as soon as he was outside, he fist-bumped the air, jumping a little, before smoothing his shirt and fixing his hair and hat, unaware that he had done that in front of window to your place of work were you and all your coworkers had gotten a full view of him celebrating. He decides on a day kinda thing where the two of you walk around the city visiting museums and art galleries since he hadn’t been in the city long and hasn’t been able to go out, but with you being a local he thought it was a perfect chance to let you lead. He smiled as he walked with you through the city, his eyes wide as you pointed out the Architecture, pointing out little places, showing him your favourite parks, and the quickest way to cross the city, not to mention the good food, he was smiling and having the best time when you sat down under a shady bench under a big tree, he sighed, turning to you. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving,” He says, as he leans his head back, you smile and nod your head “Yeah I could go for a bite,” you say, taking his hand and taking a shortcut through the park, finding a cute little café. The two of you spent the entire day together, as the night slowly took over the sky he was walking you home, he smiled as you watched you walk up the stairs, he leaned his hip against the wall just looking at you. “Soo…Do you want to go on another date?” he asks sounding a little shy, you turn to him “Yeah, a second date sounds good, how about I take you to see the nightlife next?”, he nods his head as you walk inside, he fist bumps the air happy he was able to impress you.

[asterwild]

The gentoo penguin (Pygoscelis papua) is a medium-sized penguin species found throughout several Antarctic and subantarctic islands and the Antarctic Peninsula. The origin of their common name is unclear; the word "gentoo" was historically used by Europeans and Anglo-Indians to refer to indigenous peoples of India (now considered derogatory) and was possibly applied to the penguins with the insinuation that the white markings on their head are turban-like. Their name is now also known for being shared with a Linux distribution.

[hibischush]

her angel wings surround my heartbeat NSFW

description; This wasn’t supposed to happen, March reminded himself. But when he’s head first in the farmer’s thighs, he can’t help but feel like he’s tending to an angel.

notes; Y'all ain't gon' believe this. I posted this fic to AO3 like an hour a go but I got side-tracked by ordering Indian food and as I patiently wait for my butter chicken and naan I shall feed you that NSFW fic featuring March 😌 Also, I tried to do like a...dual story telling but please lemme know if it needs some reworking to become more coherent.

word count; 1,363

warnings; this is NSFW! Minors Do Not Interact. Also some self-hatred and religious imagery so if you do not chill with that then don't read this

He’s an idiot. He has no one to blame but himself. When the farmer confessed her feelings for him, he scoffed and told her to buzz off. He told her so despite the thunderous beating in his chest, like a caged animal trying to break free of its confinement. Despite the fact that he wanted her so damn badly, March has always been a coward when it came to love.

He just couldn’t imagine someone as successful and so widely loved as her being interested in such a train wreck as he is. So he turned her away. He stood there like a dumbass, watching the hurt and pining cross over her eyes as she turned away with a sad smile.

“I see. I just thought I should let you know, because I would regret not telling you when I had the chance.”

She knew he was a liar. She knew, and he knew. And they both knew that he’d come to regret not telling her then, too.

He clutched his fists at his side as she walked out of the blacksmiths. Not because she angered him—no, not at all. Because he was foolish enough to have denied a deity.

The farmer whimpers and pulls on his fiery red locks, pulling him impossibly further into her folds, and he fights the urge to moan against her. She ground against March’s mouth, and he instantly loses his fight against being quiet, moaning before smacking her ass to silently convince her to stay still. The sound reverberated in the overly quiet, moonlit farmhouse. She gasped and covered her mouth to remain quiet, staring at him with wide eyes. March felt a warm twist in his abdomen. Guilt. Knowing that he doesn’t deserve the way she looks at him, a gaze with so much desire it could burn a hole in his skin. He sometimes felt sick, knowing that she could do better.

She wouldn’t stop by the blacksmith’s often after that. He thought the distance was for the better. Even though her absence gnawed away at his heart.

When he was able to catch Mistria’s farmer out and about—as by then he found himself seeking her—he only managed to make himself more plaintive. And by Gods, did it piss March off.

He hated that she could still force a smile. Hated that she would still glance longingly at his back, only to look away when he would return the glance. She was still the kind, sweet girl that the town came to know. She was so lively when talking to others. But the moment her eyes landed on the prized blacksmith, her façade collapsed like a poorly constructed house of cards. She talked meekly and flatly to him, and he could tell that she was fighting her urge to love him—or smack him. He couldn’t tell. He hated that she still cared about him. When they talked, her pretty eyes watered, and her frown was laced with pity.

He would spend late nights obsessively thinking about her. Her lovely eyes, her cute laugh. He would remind himself how severely he ached for her while he relieved himself, emptying himself on his lonely, calloused hand. He hated himself most of all for pushing her away and for pleasing himself in the dark to the thought of her. He felt like such a perverted loser.

He knew he was overstimulating her. She just about screamed when March slid two of his fingers inside her, her plot to cover her mouth to stay quiet notwithstanding. She trembled as he curled them against her walls, his lips still firmly attached to her clit. The journey to please such an angel was March’s personal pilgrimage, hopefully ending with her in bliss and clarity. He took his time to appreciate everything about his lover, as he needed to remind himself that she's real and his. He tried to contain himself even when his free hand snaked down to his trousers to palm his erection, grinding against it feebly. He’s positive that she could feel his stuttering breath against her pussy.

March didn't remember all the details of the night he confronted her. All he knew was that the belle looked incredible in her evening dress at one of Mistria’s many events at the manor, and she was talking to some guy—clearly not from Mistria. What March does remember well was the intense jealousy that slammed into his chest as he watched her flash her charming smile to the unknown man. And the pure ire that made his blood pump hot by watching him get handsy with her while she tried to politely tell him to back off.

March walked towards them, already fuming. Gently pulling her closer to his side by her waist and firmly removing the man’s hand off of her. He said nothing to him as he glared daggers into him and silently whisked her way, ignoring the man’s pathetic attempts to retrieve her.

She pulled her hand away from her mouth, a strand of spit following it, and cried his name out loudly. He knew that she was close and that his crusade was coming to an end. He maintained his bestial pace, finger-fucking her until he was positive she was seeing stars, and continued to desperately lick at her clit, slobbering like a dog that hadn’t eaten in days.

When she finally snapped and released herself on his face with a moan, he whined against her, bringing his grinding to a stop. He couldn’t bring himself to cum when he worshiped her. March has already done so many selfish things in his life that when his tongue lapped at her cunt, he could almost feel the sins on his shoulders flake off like the embers off of charred wood. He's yearning for her to know that he needs her, to the point that he's eager for her to use his body for her own pleasure. She deserves it, after all of the bullshit he’s drug her through.

His first mistake in this confession was pulling her to a secluded corner of the manor, one where the moon perfectly cast its light on her smooth skin and made her jewelry glow around her face, framing it like a halo. Her beauty terrified him and made him stumble over his words. He explained himself poorly to her, talking himself into a circle when trying to explain the way she made him feel. He felt like an idiot for the way his legs trembled. Who could blame him when the person he was talking to was a goddess in his eyes?

Before he lost the courage to say this for the second time, he blurted, “I'm in love with you. And I'm sorry I'm such an asshole.”

The way that her breath hitched as she parted her puffy lips was enough to make his heart explode. He selfishly pulled her into his chest and kissed her. Hard. He was expecting her to push him off, to strike him, to tell him off for being a jerk to her, and to say that it was too late for him to confess. The last thing he expected after he pulled away from her was for her to quietly lock the door behind him and pull him closer for a much more passionate kiss.

She jolts as he runs his tongue up and down her weeping slit, making sure that all of her heavenly essence makes it into his mouth. With one last kiss to her sex, he quickly marks the insides of her thighs, kissing them gently as if to apologize for making her his own. She sighs again as March kisses up her navel, stopping to nip at her neck. He sheepishly grins against her warm skin when she giggles after he playfully licks her ear. The sound of her laughter was almost as if the gateway to somewhere more holy than this plane of existence opened itself up to him. She cradles his flushed face, blessing him with a tender kiss—one that rids him of transgressions.

“I love you, March.”

“I love you, too.”

Can you tell that this is very Take Me to Church by Hozier-coded? Didn’t mean for that to happen but when you take body worship as a basis for your fic its bound to happen lmao. Anywoozies criticism is very welcome since idk if this is even a solid fic. As always, thank you for reading 🌺💗