#how to make lake pigment

[bumblebeeappletree]

The lake making process is a great way to preserve colour from dye pots by turning a water-soluble dye into a non-soluble pigment.

Lake pigments can be used for making shelf-stable watercolours, pastels, crayons and other types of paint.

Check out my self-paced comprehensive online course to delve deep into the world of making sustainable botanical pigments.

https://lostincolours.teachable.com/p...

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[bithegarden]

Alpine forget-me-not, Myosotis asiatica 🌱

[anantaru]

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you had once sworn to always love the 11th harbinger childe, no matter what circumstances you'd face together, to love and cherish him for all eternity, even the hidden side he couldn‘t hide any longer from you.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, foul legacy! childe, vampire! teeth, tw blood, blood sucking, monster[fu]cking, tw huge size difference, very messy, loads of filth, slight feral childe, cw two cocks, anal, double penetration

a beclouded, overcasting darkness torrents and deluges over your cold, moonless room. it's silent, as if trapped in a frozen lake and you exhale heavily through your nose and feel how your breathing stood motionless, cornered in a room.

"it's terrifying, isn't it?" you hear a whisper, "to see me like that, knowing love won't be enough to look past my situation." and a searing, razor edged bolt plunges over your body, which was only covered in a flimsy shirt, your thighs— quivering, without exaggeration petrified yet not out of fear as one might think.

turns out, what made it so terrifying were his next, chosen words;

"yet i love you."

and they felt as if crafted by the universe itself, meticulously chiseled in an edge of relief when childe, the eleventh harbinger, took a step towards you, until looming over the bed, whispering.

"and you love me, don't you?"

by the nature of what he kept expressing to you, the words he spelled out certainly held graven significance, you remember when childe admitted that he fell in love with you the very first time, remember when he said it out loud, kind, innocent, without any twisted torment.

but ajax wasn‘t himself now, or was he? is this who he really was all along? did you fall in love with .. him?

he was someone else, point blank, something. your find yourself being snapped back into reality when a warm tear crosses your cheeks, framing your face and you ask yourself, why am i crying?

even then, you secretly know the answer, you cannot keep yourself off him, you are desperately in love, you crave him, long for his silhouette and kisses, worship the eleventh harbinger entirely and if need be, undoubtedly you'd look past his true self.

granted, the situation was new, fresh and afloat, ajax never revealed you his true, foul legacy form or rather, what it did to him in the long run, a slow, agonizing death, melting away his lifespan— or how it made him perceive himself and what he became of it— bloodthirsty, uncontrollably raging with hunger, in dire pain.

childe lets himself fuse into the bedsheets at last, crawling into your bed, it's the middle of the night, a spine-chilling hour where he confessed the truth of his nature. notwithstanding the fact that he wanted to see how far he could go now, or if he should leave you out of his life completely.

when he hovered over your body, new courage materialized from the tip of his tongue, "do you want me to leave?" he takes off the giant mask, his skin right underneath growing dimmer, resembling a violet pigmentation, revealing his electro infused eyes, pointy ears, his sharp nails, delicately raising your vibrations with soft touches on your thighs.

you might regret this later on but you do not seem scared of him, somehow turning him speechless by your reaction, "no, please stay."

"you mean it?" he sighs, if that was true, then him being a monster was possibly the lesser of the two dangers. "i do." it's quite important to note that childe could barely fit in your bed, nor could he barely fit in between your legs for that matter, and you notice how energy imbued he actually was, his body twitching as if nervous, violet particles pervading off his skin, making you tremble.

"shh," childe looms his thumb over your bottom lip, "how cute." shaking his head and gazing deeply into your eyes, your face burns and without missing a beat, he slides his other hand under your knee, easing to your thigh and spreading you apart, so he could somewhat fit between your legs more sufficiently.

you were about to open your mouth to say something, but then felt childe's large thumb slip into your mouth, rendering over your warm, wet tongue. he presses down on the wet muscle and groans sharply into his chest when you moan, sealing your lips over the digit when he began to push it in and out of you.

your eyes close, and a smaller bump nestles itself between your legs, you feel it, knowing what it was. childe was hard, words cannot hold up to the warmth flushing your entire body when you flutter your lashes down south, a big tent nudging into your core.

a shiver goes up your spine when he pulls his wet finger out of your mouth, the string of saliva attached and breaking in two, hitting your chin. "let me get rid of this." he points out, accentuating the pain in his pants before he pulls them down, not entirely but so they'd rest right under his now, bare erection, his bulky thighs quilling over the leather material of his pants.

your mouth parts at the obscene sight, a bead of sweat trailing its way between your shoulder blades; not only one, but two fully erected cocks in display for your eyes and childe slowly traces the outline with the pad of a finger, hissing out, you can practically hear him grinning over you, almost discern the lewd dreams that probably played across his mind right this second while he mounted over you, casting a shadow down your figure with such ease.

"we'll start slow." his voice rumbles, "as usual." a smirk swaying from left to right, you feel your limbs sink into the mattress, your head hazy, but when he starts to pleasure himself in front of you, you bite your lip as you watch him, indulge in it, sneaky hand traveling down to take some tension off your stimulated pussy that was dizzily fluttering around nothing.

you whine out when you insert your middle finger into your hole and childe wipes away the bundled up saliva off your lips, taking a hold on your chin and lowering his body, "turn around for me." he whispers, looking down to watch you finger yourself ready for him— as if that would actually make the stretch somewhat easier to go by.

but you do as he commands, long since forgotten about the doubts buried in your mind, flipping yourself over and perking your butt up, so he could have the best view on your holes. he never used your different hole before, but childe wasn't unpracticed in taking the necessary steps in order for it to feel good. to try and test the limits of your body, he tapped your hole with his knuckle, pushing it past the tightness as it went in freely enough, and as he felt you loosen around it, he pushed it in and out, only distantly.

after all, he couldn't finger you properly, his nails were sharp and he'd rather dig them into your hips while he fucks roughly into you.

so before anything, he draws back and childe reached over to your nightstand and grabbed into the small drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube, whatever the case, he knew he was big, far greater than in his usual, human form and didn't want to hurt you while looking like this.

nonetheless, he could barely wait, he can feel his nervous breathing puffing against his sweaty chest while he opened the bottle, gushing a generous amount of the translucent liquid on his palm.

you bite your lip back and hide your face in the pillow when you hear it as you wiggle your toes, pretty much the only part of you that's movable when he forces you to lay still, all his weight on the bed, placed on your hips with nowhere else to go, fuck, you're so wet already it made your blood boil in your veins, you underestimated this thing. it's not even inside of you yet but you want to feel it already. 

ajax spreads the moisture on his upper cock, wrapping his tip and girth with it, "there we go." as he plants one of his large palms against your lower back while the other guided his red, swollen erection towards your holes. his touch, addictive, and faithlessly wet, you felt as if your body was submerged underwater and shoved into itself, but when childe moves his erections against your holes, you whine as to signalize your desperation for him.

slow, gradual enough and bolstered with a deep tempo, your wet, aching pussy stretches around childe's cock, while his other member pokes at your other hole, for one, only leaving the tip in and out, watching your reactions closely. but with more lube, it ultimately had began to work, graciously shaping and forming itself into every fold and crevice of his girth.

before moving, he keeps himself settled, his cocks buzzing against your frayed nerves.

but your walls clung on him ever tight, like a set of skin-forming clothing, hand tailored and fitting like a vice. enveloped by your skin, childe could notice your pulse down there and you cry out his name when he thrusts into you at the same time, wrapping his giant hands around your entire hip area to lift you off the mattress, so he could use you as a cock sleeve, his own, sweet and pretty and wet fucking cock sleeve.

his cocks hit in and out of your holes at the same time, they're warm and splitting you apart, as if having a heart beat on their own which continuously shuddered and rippled around your entire figure, your skin burning from inside out, holes leaking with both childe's pre cum and your gooey slick. but the man sighs, a nagging pain finally lifted off his shoulders as he leans against your back with his entire weight, caging you in between the mattress and his strong, broad chest.

you expand your lungs, drawing in quick, hefty breaths as you moan into the smudged pillow under you, thoroughly messed up with tears of euphoria and your saliva which couldn't stop dribbling down your chin. cross eyed, while fucking yourself back into him, his rhythm was never more than slow and deep, it's perfect and whenever both cocks contracted into you entirely, you felt them press overtly against the gateways of your pleasure spots.

your hold on him was tight, both holes used and prickling with a fire like sensation, sensual drags of his cocks piercing you into oblivion, inflicting bliss on you which you never experienced to that extent. he's ruthless, head thrown back and smacking his hips into you, pheromones and filth invading the humane air of the warm room. it's so filthy, you are, or that's what crossed your mind, but fuck it feels good, more than a little, it's like crossing out every small detail on your to do list, tackling all the small places and filling them to the brim.

swiftly, you move your hand to reach back behind him, locking your digits into his soft locks when childe began to nibble and suck on your neck. at the sensation of his rough, skilled laps of his tongue, you hiss when his sharp, pointy teeth dig into the delicate skin, hard enough to draw out the blood he so desperately craved to taste. in a sense, it's as if it broadened his lifespan, vitalized his endurance and replenished his stamina, "aah—" you cry out into the pillow, almost ashamed by how good it feels, mustering enough strength to grab a fistful of his hair to drag him into you, closer, more sufficient, his hips still working wonders on both entrances.

you're soiling him entirely and you can feel how your gummy slick and his warm, thick cum ooze down your thighs as childe moans into your neck, repeatedly, sucking the warm blood out of you, snapping his cocks in and out and acting feral, your spine arched up, ass perked and lifted so he could pound perfectly and fuck into you.

voiceless cries with a dry throat, inarticulate whispers of his name, your mouth opens and closes soundlessly. you're gone, too gone, hypnotized by the pleasure he was bestowing on you.

this next thrust was especially lucky in your eyes, and you cough up a broken moan when he hits your spots just right. you're rolling your hips back against the intrusion, desperate, full of need, face fallen and a mess. it was hot and wet, you could sense the boiling coil in your stomach, how it wouldn't be long until you'd release around him, and so did childe, feel himself become undone soon.

"just a bit more.." he's breathless, the smacking sounds of your ass against his hips fueling his desire to make you cum together, to have you drenched and filled up with his seed, both holes stuffed full and ready to go for another round, that's a new dream he had been playing in his head on auto repeat right now.

"fuck—" you scream, "fuck, baby! so close—!" and suddenly taste the intrusion in your belly, it's so warm and heavy, spilling, prodding, consuming, mind numbing you, knowing full on well nothing more could ever satisfy you as good as he did. the thick spurts of cum gush into your stomach so heavily it almost hurts, there was so much of it you feared to explode.

yet you come undone the same time as he did, violently arching your back as he wraps his arms around your sticky chest, the brush over your stiff nipples making you whine and tremble. he lifts you off the bed to harshly fuck the last bit into you, he wants you to have it all, until his balls were properly emptied out and dried up, but your holes adequately jammed and crowded.

your used, vibration numbed nerves and muscles come back to life and you collapse back on the bed, you taste salt and sweat on your lips before turning around to face your lover sitting back, barely out of breath, unlike you.

ajax pleasingly hums to himself, "you're mine." pulling himself against you, "you're mine forever." before sealing your bodies as you blink up to him with large, glowing eyes. you try not to notice his smile too much, yet all his reactions weren't a surprise.

in the end, he had won you over, he thinks to himself, kneading the soreness off your body, splashing his large thigh between your wobbly legs, deciding to rub it against your core to catch a reactions, making you realize that he wasn't done yet. 

beyond further questioning, it was the middle of the night.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[shelandsorcery]

I'm going to start teaching my nephews some basic colour theory; they're 9 and 10 and really passionate artists, and I think a little knowledge now will help them push themselves a lot further.

I'm going to start with colour mixing. I really think that color mixing using paint is a valuable metaphor even if you are working digitally 99% of the time. who knows what my nephews will end up focusing on as they get older, but having the metaphor of mixing paint to achieve different colors and understand how colors relate to each other visually should be a really useful ground level structure in any ongoing learning they do with color theory.

so I've put together a watercolor palette using student grade non-toxic paints. we've got two reds, two yellows, two blues, and burnt sienna.

I'm going to include white gouache as well, so we can talk about tinting colors, and how colors appear different when they are diluted versus tinted. also, honestly when I was their age I think watercolor was really punishing, and just bringing in some white gouache gives them a chance to rework areas if they want to. I'm hoping this makes stuff a little less frustrating and helps them feel more empowered to keep fixing and pushing their work instead of just giving up.

I don't currently have a plan to have black paint in there right now, because I want us to focus on color mixing, but I wouldn't on principal prevent them from having a pan of black paint in future for their own time with the paint. I just think it might be distracting or confusing when I'd rather we focus on mixing neutrals with these colorful pigments.

I've got five Windsor and Newton Cotman brand pans - phthalo blue, lemon yellow, cadmium yellow hue, cadmium red medium hue, and burnt sienna; and the other two pans i filled with van Gogh brand tube paint - ultramarine deep and madder lake deep.

This gets me a decent spread of secondaries without confusing anything by introducing the CMY approach.

I think learning the CMY palette will be valuable too! but it made sense to me to start with palette that most resembled what they are likely to be learning in school in terms of subtractive color mixing. if they do learn about additive color mixing, they'll be working with the cmy palette with light, so I figure I'll let this be different at the moment.

I've included burnt sienna after weighing my options, because I think it's important for them to learn how to neutralize colors in a few different ways. burnt sienna and ultramarine blue are such a classic neutral formula, and such a great way to mix something that's nearly black, that it felt important to include. the fact that when you mix it with the phthalo blue you get a green instead of a neutral, I think that's a really great example of how color mixing can be surprising as well.

I'm working on a couple little example paintings to help them see the range that is possible with this palette, so here's one with greens and purples; I'll do one in neutrals overall and another maybe in oranges and teals.

I think for exercises we might want to work up to the colour wheel - maybe starting first with the basics of mxing using different rations to get different colours, and go from there.

If anyone has any advice on teaching this to 9 and 10 year olds, I'd love to hear it! I think they'll be excited to try something new and open up more possibilities for themselves as artists right now; beyond that I won't be particularly intense about it.

Also, do you remember when you learned paint mixing and basic colour theory? What were some moments that stood out to you or stuck in your mind forever?

[bonefall]

the clans use salt for healing and cooking if i remember correctly. im only saying this because would someone ever name their kid "saltkit"

Yes! Saltkit is a valid prefix in BB, but only after moving to the Lake.

Before then, they make a sort-of-salt out of burning dandelion root. They consider this material a kind of soot, fine ashes produced by burning something. The rough translation of this spice is "soot-salty-taste."

Salty (taste) = Byyle (Comes from blood-taste)

Soot (ashes produced by finely burning something) = Keybo (Used alone in artsy contexts, usually describes bistre, a pigment made from soot and water.)

Plant Salt (of coltsfoot or dandelion) = Keybyy

To specify if it comes from Dandelion or Coltsfoot, you'd say Keybyy Raerra or Keybyy Hakprru. There aren't two dedicated words for the difference; these are both considered "types of dandelions" by Clan cats.

Dandelion = Awpo Any flowering ground plant with fluffy yellow petals.

This is why they didn't previously have a word for salt itself! They would only ever encounter raw salt as an animal lick, which they'd call Byylebon. Salty-useful-rock. Because it was associated with humans, they wouldn't steal them or interact with them much.

Rraash is a Townmew loanword, a word they adopted for raw, powdered salt during their time trading with BloodClan. At the Lake, they now collect raw sea salt during "Salt Patrols," which are beach trips where a big collection of apprentices are brought to the ocean to learn how to collect and process salt.

So, depending on how the parents would like to name their child, those translations could be;

Byylemew = Saltykit The taste of salt. Could refer to the flavor of blood, the taste of the ocean, or the spice made from burned dandelion roots. Has a very food-y connotation, probably named by gourmands.

Keybyymew = Saltkit, Spicekit, Seasoningkit, Rubkit This is a very ThunderClan sort of name. They traditionally used a lot of keybyy in their recipes, as it's very important for a good marinade and making ham. Though, it wouldn't be too surprising to see it used in WindClan too.

Rraashmew = Saltkit, Brinekit Raw salt. Made from boiling ocean water during large expeditions to the sea called a "Salt Patrol." Used as a medicine AND as a spice, important in controlling parasite infestations, fighting infection, and preserving food. Could just be referring to an off-white colored pelt, food, or even strength in battle for its association with treating wounds.

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

do the cats have any like. things with bugs? like symbolism or stories?

Ants - Ants, due to their strength in numbers, are seen as very good friends and an example as to why working in teams in a good thing. A single ant can hardly move anything, but an entire team of ants can move huge pieces of food! The Ant- prefix is supposed to inspire the thought of a cat who is a team player, someone who works well with others. The ancient cat Antcloud of Riverclan, Cloudberry's brother, was known as a friendly cat to all. Antpelt's mother named him Antkit in hopes he'd make lots of friends...

Ladybugs - These little critters are actually associated heavily with motherhood! It is said that if a pregnant Queen sees a ladybug with many spots, the queen will have many kittens! If the ladybug does not have many spots, they will not have many kittens. Superstitious cats believe in it, like Brightheart, where cats who don't, like Cloudtail, tend to just think they're pretty. Ladybug is a very, very rare prefix, seen in ancient times with an underaged Shadowclan apprentice, Ladybugpaw. He is demoted back to Ladybugkit, and his future name was Ladybugfur.

Praying Mantis - These tough bugs (seriously I'm pretty sure fear is a foreign concept to these things) are seen pretty differently by each Clan. To Shadowclan, they are a snack, albeit a more bizarre one, often paired with roasted poultry and spicy Juniper berries. To Riverclan, they're a sign that the meadow in their Lake territory is healthy! Before that, they were mysterious, seen more like spirits than anything, and a sign that Starclan was watching the land by bringing its grass blades to life. To Windclan, they are valued for their resilience, and their willingness to battle despite size... It's relatable to them! If Windclan had movies, they'd be the underdog hero.

Grasshoppers - Snacks! Food! Yummy! Favorite food of Featherpelt, who loves frying some up and dipping them in blood gravy. Oh yeah... We use cooking too, but MUCH more recent in Clan history! Riverclan turns up their noses though, they refuse to eat them, but Shadowclan cats will slather them in vinegar. Grasshopper in general are associated with an old story, one that only Skyclan knows now from their old days. Their very first leader learned how to jump from a large Grasshopper, but when it tried to take her place as leader of Skyclan, she jumped high and swatted it off the high branch, breaking it into lots of little Grasshopper babies. Grasshoppers now have no idea what happened, but catching them is still a point of pride!

Snails (I know they're not bugs but you try telling cats that) - Snails! Their shells are collectible, and sometimes a very hot commodity in Shadowclan and Skyclan! There are stories of giant snails that cats can ride the shells of, and paint with pigments, meaning little painted shells are worth even MORE. The name Snail is meant to inspire peace and thoughtfulness.

Clams/Muscles - Riverclan food! Lots of Riverclan Cats learn to dive down into the river and part of the ocean when they take trips down there, all with the hopes to grab some yummy creature (and hopefully find a pearl!). Cats guard the ones they catch, and they're heavily prized for the possibility that they may hold a pearl. There are Legends about hunting parties that managed to save Riverclan from starting to death by diving down into the depths of the river to grab lots of them. Part of Riverclan mythology is the legend of a gigantic clam that resides in the river that an ancient Leopardclan warrior stashed a giant rainbow coloured pearl inside of to guard...

Crabs (also yes I know) - Beach bugs! A very lovely treat that cats will go to Sundrown Place to get along with salt! Just make sure to bring a basket, so you don't get pinched! Berrynose finds this one out the hard way. They're a delightful food and they're shells and pincers are often kept and traded! Riverclan has now become the lovers of all seafood, and will trade you whatever you like in return for a big crab.

Flies - Flighty around others, but brave enough to withstand sickness, often mate with those huge roaring dragons in the sky! Helpful as well, they point out sick prey or rotting meat. Cherryfall named Flykit the way she did because she feels that they're incredibly important, and wanted her tiny daughter to feel special. Flystar of Skyclan was Honor Titled the name Fly- for their ability to pick our bad prey, saving the Clan from a major outbreak during a very dark time when every other Clan was experiencing a Plague.

Dragonflies - Seen as the gorgeous offspring between flies and Dragons (airplanes) due to their shape, they're associated with grace, beauty, still water, and growing plants. There are however, stories of Dragonflies managing to become massive beasts, joining their dragon parent in the sky... Dragonfly from the Kin gets a huge reputation boost for being cool because of it.

Beetles - Icewing's favorite creature, if you let her, she'll talk your ear off about how pretty they are, their lovely smooth shells, how much she loves the ones with horns... All that. They are seen as very beautiful by the Clans, and I'm pretty sure some apprentices keep beetles in little hideouts to watch them... Or make the horned ones fight because kids will be kids. Icewing and Mintwhisker were big fans of beetle fights, and named Beetlewhisker after the beetles they bonded over as apprentices.

Worms - Lot of different opinions! Though, Thunderclan has a very very sore spot concerning worms. You'll have to forgive them, they're not the type to let things go. Since the move to the lake, things have gotten better, but stories about The Great Hunger are still cause for many cats to very much dislike worms. They'll happily trade them off to Riverclan. Bait in exchange for duck feathers and the occasional egg.

Speaking of, Riverclan LOVE worms. Not to eat, no, but for bait! Not many fish can resist a wiggly worm!

To Windclan, they're kinda seen as annoying. I'm borrowing Tunnelbuns from Bonefall, and a worm getting into your tunnelbun is the WORST.

For Shadowclan, many apprentices try and catch them to put them in frog-filled areas to fatten up frogs for an easier future catch. Doesn't always work, but it keeps them entertained and it's fun to watch!

Crickets - The snack you dare your friends to try. Cool! Weird! A bug that SINGS! Myths linger about a cricket that managed to learn to speak, and gave a sign from Starclan to an old Lionclan cat to save his leader. Cricket songs are enjoyed heavily, and Crickets going quiet is cause for deep concern. It happens right before the Great Battle. The silence is still a... Tough to talk about moment.

Spiders - Skyclan and The Forest Four have very different views!

To the Forest Four, Spiders have a bit of a tough rep. They're eeire, but the cobwebs they make are so, so useful. Plenty of cats have a fear of spiders, such as Cloudtail, Owlwhisker, and Mossyfoot. They're seen as very pragmatic, and Spiderleg was named for his very spider-y body, but also his will to live, and his strength, especially when he was a tiny kitten, and needed his extra leg amputated due to the pain it was causing.

To Skyclan: A tragic symbol of the final leader of old Skyclan. Spiderstar made the final call, like a dying mother spider, to cast off remaining cats of Skyclan out into the Twolegplace. They are seen as beautiful, intelligent, and protective. Spiderstar is often called upon for a blessing when a cat goes on a quest, in hopes they will still come home afterwards. Pebbleshine frequently prays to her, as does Violetshine. They both love spiders as a result.

Ticks - Bad! Awful! Makes cats sick! Hurts and itches! These things caused a terrible Plague during the Homebrew story Wishstar's Abyss, and she used the cover of the sickness to poison the current leader. They need to be dealt with ASAP. Removed with prey bones or carved sticks, mouse bile is a Shadowclan exclusive seasoning once cooking is discovered.

Bees - Seen as less of a threat than their Wasp counterparts, but still creatures to be a bit weary about! They do not take kindly to stealing. The Legend of The Bee is very similar to the old myth in our world about them! A large bee presented Starclan with sweet honey, and Starclan was thankful. When Starclan asked the bee how she managed to make enough to share with everyone, the bee laughed and stated she would attack anyone who tried, that Starclan cats were lucky to have gotten a taste. Starclan cursed the bee, while she was given an incredible weapon to defend herself, it would kill her if used. Since you're able to harvest from bees without getting stung (so long as you remain calm) the Bee name is often associated with quieter, more strategic cats.

Bumblebees - These are seen as SIMILAR to bees, but not quite! They do still sting, but how could something so differently shaped and so very fuzzy be the actual same thing? They're also called Bumbles, making Bumble a suitable prefix (not that it wasn't already from Bumblestripe!) Shadowclan celebrates a Bumblebee Festival, where many Pollen rich flowers are gathered and placed in the middle of camp to attract bumbles near the end of Greenleaf!

Wasps/Hornets - These are actually seen as the same thing! Just different ranking. Since it's known that bees swarm, the Clan cats see these as higher ranked bees. Think apprentices vs warriors. Same THING, different rank. Waspwhisker's name is an indication of his strength in battle (and in being a good tracker, hence the suffix).

[wrathofrats]

I am so happy that is obsess over Mountain's pussy o'clock. I'm here for it babe. BUT will you please tell us everything more about ghoul tentacles??? Especially Rain's.

🖤 ghoulish-fiction

(I get embarrassed by my main so I use anon and sign my name its fine lol)

Hiii

Here’s wrath’s guide to the water ghoul tentacles, because apparently I have like actual in depth opinions on this like a normal person. I hc every water ghoul as having some kind of tentacle to them. These are subject to change based on the day and story, but this is mostly what I think

Rain: obv I hc rain as trans. I think he has like a full pussy, and a tentacle. Something that kinda stays tucked away, wouldn’t really notice it unless it actually came out. And I think it almost has some what of a kind of its own, gotta get rain real worked up for it to slither its way out, wet and messy between his thighs. He can absolutely fuck himself with it and does regularly, think the other ghouls make a spectacle out of him. Think it’s a bluey purple, something a little darker and more pigmented than he is, with some suckers that feel fucking delicious over someone else’s cock.

Mist: tentacle clit!! Something small, not many little suckers but a couple. Light blue/darker blue at the tip. Just a couple inches, I’d say maybe 2-3, feeling fucking amazing when you touch it, it’s not as controlling as rains but twitches and curls based on how you touch it.

Delta: smallish tentacle dick. Thick, dark blue, I hc as very aroace and is kinda sex repulsed so I don’t have many opinions beyond that <3

River: also a tentacle dick, also fucking thick, pretty good size. Def some big suckers that feel amazing inside of someone. Not as mind of its own like rains, operates like a normal cock, but it’s a tentacle.

Lake: intersex! Small tentacle dick, super wet pussy. Small little suckers on, and it’s such a pretty shade of light blue against his skin. Idk I think he’s got a cute little tentacle that totally does water it wants. Rubs all over his cunt and against himself when he’s feeling really needy.

Water: dick and a tentacle I think. Double dick water!!!, it’s kinda sheathed away but comes out when he wants it to, longer than his actual cock, yes he can jerk himself off with it (:

[pinksols]

07:46 pm: russian rhapsody — with jeonghan!

no warnings! just fluff. maybe mention of water + kissing. gn!reader. enjoy also pls let me know if it was nice to read???? this is just word vomit. ♡

but dear diary,

the thing you’ll mark in your memory for ever is when the sun hits his chocolate hair, and his eyes furthermore etch the pigment of coffee onto your figure and says, “yeah, but to me the most beautiful thing is how we are all heartbroken over the wrong people.”

a pause, “or how any element of the earth- any living matter has its way of engraving itself upon peoples hearts.” you both at this point sit in the (runabout) boat jeonghan made— surprised you with one afternoon after boasting about what noah did for allie in the notebook.

the (runabout) boat fabricated from jeonghans sweat, dedication and love for you. not forgetting the oakwood and blotches of faded pink paint that decorated the place in which you sat.

the lake adopts the swirling colours of mossy greens, outspoken blues and a breath of periwinkle. jeonghan makes your heart skip a beat, and your throat pulsate.

the sky reveals milky oranges and an array of rose tinted colours— all which match the colour of your heart, whenever in the presence of jeonghan. “we are habits of creature, jeonghan.”

“uh-huh? just like you’ll always belong to me?” somebody— the lily pad to your left or the charming frog to your right, needed to pinch you. “you’re still on that horse?”

jeonghan. jeonghan. jeonghan . you could say his name for the rest of your life. your own secret language, source of air, way of expression. “jeonghan. you put the moon in the sky for me— have i ever told you that?” you declare, laced with love out into the pink sky.

“before you, the water was just green. summer was just a season. the piano was just a stupid instrument. you put the blue in my life. in my heart.”

jeonghan drops the ores for a minute. submerged in disbelief- biting his lip to choke back the way he wanted to scream i love you a billion times over. he shifts even closer to you now, grasps your head gently with his hands till you can almost taste his lips.

till you’re almost eskimo kissing— your giggle was the reason jeonghan got out of bed everyday; the reason he found pleasure in the sunlight, and embraced it with open arms.

the guarantee of you in his life elevated the pink in the sky, and overrun the amber hue, that now swirled it’s way into that of a monet painting. the boat shakes at his stance, “hannie!” he smiles against your cheekbone.

the way your eyes dilate activate an entity within his heart that he can’t quite put his finger on. and the way you say his nickname sounds like one of the 13 angels greeting him to the highest stage of life.

to jeonghan, you are serenity and peace.

kiss—kiss—kiss. how could he have you for eternity? bargain with the koi fish at the bottom of the lake you’re placed upon? barter with the joker and exchange his tendencies to cheat in any parlor game?

the sky is burnt orange and the water you’re surrounded by mimics that. “oh?” he inquires, voice as deep as the sand channels that lead to the sea.

at his response your heart runs a mile from the comfort of a boat. how do you refrain from ascending? from evaporating— leaving nothing but pink ribbons infused with the scent of jeonghan behind?

© pinksols

[manawari]

In which fire hates the water, there is a tiger who is fond of it.

Choi Jong-in was not a big fan of the sea.

Ironic how he, a fire mage, was vulnerable to water like his element. It was a reminder of that one fateful day which had forever altered his perception of the ocean — beautiful and majestic, yet harbored an underlying power that could pull one down, never to resurface. To him, 'breathtaking' had a different definition. Under the waves, not a single sound could be heard, only the relentless splashes of the current against his body and the ripples ascending through the water, born from his helpless, silent cries for help.

He couldn't remember what happened next. . . The next thing he knew was that he woke up in a hospital bed, confused on his surroundings with his mother wailing next to him.

Long before dungeons had become a major threat in life, there was the sea. Jong-in already met death in the brusque waves rather than the gaze of a monster.

What am I even doing here? Jong-in questioned himself as he stood in the shore, a vast sight of the sea stretched out to the horizon. The waves gently lapped over the sand, soaking them under as it retreated to the sea. His red locks bounced at the cold breeze of the wind, wafting a salty scent to his nose, along with the whispers from the the foamy waves.

He told himself that he would take a long drive to ease his thoughts, not knowing he would end up in an empty beach. . . Perhaps it had been years since he found himself in one. Young Choi Jong-in had sworn to himself to never come back to the place where his life was almost taken away.

He took a small step forward. His breath quivered when the wave touched the tip of his shoe. Jong-in pulled his foot away and sighed, realizing that the wound was still there.

"Mr. Choi."

The mage turned over his shoulder, widening his eyes at the unexpected presence. "Mr. Baek."

"Never thought I'd see you in such a place," said Baek Yoon-ho. "If you don't mind me asking— why are you here?"

"Nothing. I just want to take a breather." Jong-in answered. "Guild has been exhausting for the past few days."

"It's a surprise that you admitted it. It seems you never left your office at all unless it's urgent."

"You always have a sharp eye on details, haven't you? While it is true, it's—" his grin fell, diverting his eyes to the endless horizon. The sun was already gone, but its remains blazed throughout the clear sky, pigments of orange lingered beneath the blue and purple hues. "Honestly, I don't why I was even here. I saw the waves while I was driving past, then a sudden drift of memories flushed over me."

"So, you have been to the sea before?"

"I'm afraid I have," said Jong-in. "However, it was not a pleasant memory. The last one, at least. But the happiest ones had been long buried and the worst one stayed."

Yoon-ho's footsteps rustled against the sand, making his way to his fellow guild master's side. The hunter's lips curved into a smile as he glanced at the sea, appreciating the magnificent sight — it was as if the water and the sky finally met, mirroring each other with their splendid exteriors. If the sky had clouds, the sea had corals or stones.

"Beautiful, isn't it? People would come here and enjoy the waves, swimming to their delight." Yoon-ho said. "It had been a while since I've been here. I remember myself swimming with my grandparents at the lake near their house."

"You have pleasant memories there, Mr. Baek," Jong-in smiled. "It's good that you still remember those things. I cannot even remember all of mine because of one worst event."

Yoon-ho frowned. "What was it, then?"

Jong-in sighed, stashing his hands into his pockets. He debated for a moment on whether or not he must reveal one of his deepest demons to his longtime rival. No. . . 'Rival' should not the correct term when part of him wished to tell a story he had never told anyone, not even Hae-in. But Yoon-ho always had an ear for everything, willing to listen to anything a person had to say; it gave Jong-in a bit of confidence and reassurance that he could open up.

Besides, it was not Yoon-ho's forte to judge somebody.

Jong-in shook his head. No. He chastised himself. You can't just simply tell him, Jong-in. Are you out of your mind?

"It's. . . None of your business." That was what he said instead. His eyes fell on the sand.

Yoon-ho stared at him for a moment and shrugged. "Fine, if you say so."

As Jong-in proceeded to watch the waves lap over the shore, no longer touching the tips of his shoes, he heard another shuffle next to him. At first, he elected to ignore it. Until the sound of water sploshing arose in the air, causing him to lift his gaze and catch Yoon-ho wading across the water with the cuffs of his pants scrunched up to the bottom of his kneecaps. His shoes were abandoned at the shore, along with his discarded blazer. Yoon-ho met the hunter's baffled gaze over his shoulder and flashed him a grin.

"Care to join me, Jong-in?" He spoke his first name, tossing the sense of honorifics away.

"I. . . " Jong-in hesitated, taking another step backward. "I don't want to."

His heart began pounding against his chest.

No, not the sea again—

"It's not like we are going to stand far. Just where we can feel the wave against our legs." Yoon-ho flashed him an odd look. "Why do you look so terrified?"

I am? Jong-in wondered, failing to notice his expression. He cleared his throat and kept a steady tone. "Forget it. I'll just stay here and watch."

"Ah, that's no fun," Yoon-ho frowned. "Come on, just because you have flames as a power doesn't mean you'll be vulnerable to the water as well. It won't affect the way you are."

"Exactly! But my powers have nothing to do with it. I have my own reasons to stay out of the currents, Yoon-ho. No matter how beautiful it seems, there is always a darker side under it. You can never guarantee of what your fate is going to be or where you will end up!"

Yoon-ho gritted his teeth, then he strode toward him. Before Jong-in even knew it, he had been swept from the ground and Yoon-ho kept his arm under his legs, pressing it together to prevent them from squirming. Jong-in immediately wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his nails against the fabric of the white shirt, whimpering in terror at being surrounded by the water and protesting at the S-Rank to bring him back to the land.

"Don't worry," Yoon-ho whispered. "I got you."

Jong-in's grip on him loosened a little, finding himself relaxed on the hunter's tone and the vibrations that went along in his chest. A soothing sensation. He pursed his lips and let his head rest on the juncture between Yoon-ho's neck and shoulder.

"I almost died. . . " He murmured. "I was playing around the stones as a child when I suddenly slipped and plunged into the deep water. I could not scream for help as it was too late, the currents were already pulling me down, and all I thought of was how I felt it was my end. I was going to die—" His chest let out a pang, causing his voice to quiver. Jong-in swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Jong-in. . . "

"Please. . . Put me back as I don't wish to experience it again." Jong-in sniffled silently. "I am not brave enough for it yet."

"I believe you can," there was a hint of smile in Yoon-ho's voice. "You got scarred for life because you thought that no one would reach their hand to save you. But they did. You survived."

"That doesn't take away the pain I felt, Yoon-ho."

He chuckled. "I know. However, I think it's time to bury that pain of yours and conquer your fear at last. After all, we don't have a long time in this place, so why don't we make the best of it?"

"No."

"Seriously? Jong-in, you may be as well getting comfortable with me holding you, but—"

"Fine!" Jong-in exclaimed. His cheeks flushed at the statement. Was he truly getting too comfortable with being in Yoon-ho's arms? Sure, the warmth radiated in his body was warmer than his own, and Jong-in couldn't help but feel secured within such mascular arms that had also been known for bringing serious damages.

He chose to believe otherwise.

Then, Yoon-ho brought him back to the shore where he lowered before him, touching his shoe while his other hand was holding the back of his leg. Jong-in obliged and raised his foot to let the hunter peel it off, followed by his sock. Yoon-ho repeated the same process to the other foot until Jong-in felt a surge of hotness beneath his bare feet.

His breath drew back at the sensation, as well as the sand prickling his skin. Yoon-ho folded the cuffs of his pants to the bottom of his kneecaps and then he ascended, offering his hand to Jong-in. The tenderness in his face was unmistakable, even as the gust of wind toyed with his hair, sweeping it back and forth while he stood beneath the vast, darkening shroud of evening in the sky. Mustering his courage, the fire mage accepted his hand and Yoon-ho slowly began to lead him to the water.

Choi Jong-in inhaled sharply as the waves touched his feet, creeping up to his ankles before another surge crashed in. Instinctively, his hand shot out, gripping Yoon-ho's wrist with a desperate intensity, as if holding on for dear life. The wind howled around him, whipping his jacket with a fierce force, and a deep chill seeped through his veins. Vivid images flashed before his eyes— slick stones underneath his feet as the waves battered the surface, completely unaware of what came afterward.

His mind was still tainted by it. Physically, he recovered. Emotionally, he was scarred. While everyone found solace in the sight of beaches, Jong-in found misery.

"Jong-in!"

His eyes flung open, turning up to meet Yoon-ho's. The hunter looked down on him

"It's okay!" He said. "I got you, don't worry. You don't have to be afraid. . . "

"Yoon-ho. . . " Jong-in's voice cracked. "Please, don't let me go."

Yoon-ho was now holding both of his hands, squeezing them with his thumbs rubbing the skin in circles. "I won't." He promised. "Take deep breaths. You're going to be okay. Try to feel the water as it's not going to pull you down. . . As long as you're holding onto me, you got it?"

Jong-in nodded. "How— how can you be sure that this is going to help?"

"I didn't say this is supposed to help you. At least, not immediately. But you made your first step!" Yoon-ho told him. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Cold," Jong-in grumbled. "Just like when I was drowning."

Yoon-ho clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Is that really the thing you thought of?"

"Well, if you almost drowned in such a young age and the memory haunts you forever, you'd understand!"

"Aish. . . " Yoon-ho sighed in defeat. He took a few steps back, stretching the distance between them while keeping their hands intact together. Jong-in squeezed them tighter. "Feel the moment, Jong-in! Look around! Pleasing, is it not?"

Jong-in forced himself to look around, catching glimpses of the sea and sky, now darkened in unison. The waves moved in a steady, harmonic rhythm, echoing the quiet song of birds that whispered through the chilly air. Specks of light glistened from the distance, sending a slight ache in his heart, realizing how he had stayed longer in the place than he should've.

I should go back. I have work. The voice spoke from the back of his mind.

However, Yoon-ho's words dawned on him. Feel the moment. Jong-in harbored a grudge against the sea, blaming it for almost taking his life in such a pure age, hating it for having no mercy; he lost the fondness he once had for the sea, clouding the beauty he wished to perceive.

But he was still standing. . . He could still feel the earth beneath his feet as the water surged through his bare legs.

Even then, Yoon-ho's hands had kept him more grounded instead. Jong-in found breathing easier, knowing someone was there to hold him, not letting go as he wanted.

The edges of his lips curled into a smile, returning his gaze to Yoon-ho. Jong-in stepped forward until he was closer to him, an enough proximity to stand on his tiptoes and engulf his arms around the hunter's neck, exhaling into the broad chest, feeling the reverberations of his heartbeat.

Yoon-ho told him to feel the moment. And Jong-in did.

For once, his fears drifted away. Those haunting memories were no longer as vivid, instead it had been replaced with the time his parents had first brought him to the beach, giggling at the contact of the waves which had quickly stolen his heart.

Yoon-ho embraced his frame with his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Jong-in felt secured, safe in the arms of his favorite person rival.

[knarme-stray]

Glimpses into arctic Pandora (all artwork is by me, and the signatures are my more used online nickname)

Tauk lives with a lot of lakes. She's a skilled maker of fishing nets and other fish traps. She also makes dyed fabrics. Her grandmother is an expert of local natural pigments, fungi and berries alike, and she's a keen student. She's strong, outspoken and adventurous. An energetic powerhouse with her feet in the ground. While she has her heart in the right place for the most part, she does not always understand those who have less social skills, and might appear judgemental/intimidating to such cases. This is because she grew up being quite secure in herself, and doesn't seem to understand that not everyone can take such for granted.

Mokri'ena is bit of a daydreamer and an introvert. She loves to learn about stories from across Pandora. She has heard of the Sky People, Toruk Makto and the legendary warrior Neytiri. Many say she kind of exists outside of the moment she's in, outside of her body. She's interested in news and history. She always feels intimately aware of how frail safety and peace are. She can't stop thinking about the Sky People, or the Omaticaya and the Metkayina she has never met. She grew up being a little weird, - or well, just not really understanding other kids' concept of fun. She was a little artist who preferred her imagination over her loud and more sociable peers. As an adult she's keen to help those in need, as she has known the pain of being forgotten.

Tulìm is from a coastal settlement, from a terrain broken into many islands.

He was always an adventurer, - as he was born in a mainland tribe. The coastal islands always made him curious because he wanted to see more of his world, so he moved there and joined a trader ship crew.

For most of his life he was simply a trader ship navigator, and later a the captain.

He commands one of the biggest trader ships of the region. He has seen many lands outside of his own, and is known for his skills with diplomacy and leadership. He doesn't lead to benefit himself, but to serve his people and especially his crew.

His nemesis for life is an ice na'vi pirate. He spends his old, last days in a bitter hunt of his nemesis, until his worn-out body succumbs into the ocean for the last time.

Keyuk is the Olo'Eyktan of one of the many ice na'vi tribes. The era of his leadership has been a stable and quiet one. While a part of his humour is making a serious face to trick people, he's actually more known for his easygoing and humble personality. He knows his responsibilities, but has a pretty egalitarian approach to his social life. He breaks some of the traditions of his people by dressing like an average member of his society. He's never been a fan of trying to act like more than you are, - he's all bite and with none of the bark! This makes him well-respected and liked among his people.

The two main types of arctic na'vi:

(Left) Those of the land, - descenants of forest na'vi similiar to the Omaticaya, but with adaptations to cold, long winters. Most of their body is covered in fur.

(Right) Those of the waters, - arctic cousins to reef na'vi like Tau'nui and Metkayina. These 'ice na'vi' are even more extremely adapted to spending time in water than reef na'vi are, having even more powerful swimming tails and upwards-facing nostrils for easily getting air between their long dives. They don't have fur, but regulate their body heat by the layers of fat under their skin, much like cetaceans on Earth. Like reef na'vi, ice na'vi also have a symbiotic relationship with a tulkun-like sapient species.

This is an arctic viperwolf. Fur grows between their armor plates and most of the plateless regions of rheir bodies. Their shape is rounder and stubbier than that of the tropical viperwolves, for trapping more heat in their bodies.

Arctic ikran relatives also exist, and are popular flying steeds to many snow na'vi tribes. They're covered in filamentous structures resembling little hair fans.

[exhaustedtech99]

The Disaster Mando’s

Here’s a breakdown of Junior’s ade, from oldest to youngest.

@sorry-but-no-sorry

Baz is a Chiss/Mirilian hybrid

Force sensitive.

His Chiss family wanted a force user in the family. Baz’s mother thought she achieved this after seducing a Mirilian jedi, except after Baz was born he showed no signs of being force sensitive. After years of testing and attempts at training he was considered a “failure” and left to the family’s servants.

Since birth Baz’s mother forced him to paint the green pigmentation of his skin blue and wear an eye patch to cover his left eye. In her mind, it was bad enough she had to go to a different species to try for a force sensitive but to have it so visible couldn’t be tolerated.

A maid, heartbroken by Baz’s treatment by his mother, took him and ran away. Planet hopping, Baz felt a “pull” and strayed away from his caretaker and wandered around. Getting tired he sat outside a cantina and that is when Junior strolled out and saw the child. Growing concerned about the kid he questioned where his family was, or if he could take him to a caretaker.

Baz told him he “ran away” because he was a disappointment. Junior, feeling bad for the kid, told him he was coming with him now.

Junior was shocked at how sensitive Baz was about how he looked. He stopped trying to cover up his green but insisted on wearing the eye patch.

It took a lot of work between Junior and Piy to get Baz to like himself.

Dok is a Chagrian /Nautolan

Dok grew up with his parents (father Chargin, mother Nautolan) by the sea.

When he was 2, his mother died from an illness, his father needed a better job to support the two of them so he moved them farther inland to work.

This took its toll on Dok, sure soaking in a tub of water helped but he needed more. He started to get sick and became a weak child. His father knew what was happening and did his best to take care of his son. But his hands were tied; it was go back to where they used to live and be homeless, or stay here where it’s stable but Dok is sick.

Dok’s dad owns a trading station, Junior starts doing work for him delivering goods.

The two talk and one day Junior brings Baz along with him. Dok’s dad is surprised by the boy and learns that Junior adopted him, as Mandolorian’s do.

He starts questioning Junior, asking him about what planet he lives on, what it’s like, what his family is like, were they welcoming of Baz, things like that. When Junior mentioned a lake near his home that him and his sister always swam in, Dok’s dad made his decision.

He asked Junior to adopt his son.

The Nautolan part of Dok needed water. He was just making enough for them to live in town and the area they are in is high traffic, moving back was to out of the way.

Junior asked if he was serious and Dok’s dad insisted he take him. He can’t give him the life he needs and as much as it pains him, he can’t take care of his son where they are now. Junior agrees and takes Dok.

Out of the 4, Dok is the only one who is still in contact with his Father. Junior would bring him on his errands to the trading post so the two can see each other and talk. Dok doesn’t harbour any ill will to his Father, and appreciates what he did for him.

Kari-el is a Nautolan

As a child he found an old bomb from the clone wars, thought it was a toy, and brought it home. He played with it a bit, unknowingly activating it. He left home and the bomb went off killing his family. He was only a child and this was a child’s mistake.

Junior found him at the remains of his home and took him in.

The trauma of this event gave him memory loss, he has no memory of his childhood or before the explosion. He suffered from nightmares and an odd sense of deja vu at day to day activities. He suddenly remembered everything after opening a crate Junnie had shipped to the shop that held the same bomb he had found. He couldn’t bear to live with the memories and almost took his life.

Junior and Reg had to talk him down, and later asked him if he wanted Baz to wipe the memories from his mind.

He agreed.

Fiasco is a Zabrak

Has a hard time focusing on anything and needs direction. Due to zabraks having an independent nature, he is given up by his family and taking in by Junior. Junior is patient with him and helps him.

He is the main reason why Junior finally pulls his head out of his ass and asks Piy out. Fiasco could not understand why his Buir’s weren’t together, from when Junior brought him home he latched onto Piy as his mother figure. It got to the point where Fiasco would have panic attacks whenever Piy would go home, thinking she was abandoning him. A lot of talking took place between the three, that led to Junior finally admitting his feelings for his childhood friend and eventually marrying her.

When he’s older, him and his vod come across an attacked settlement and find a baby. Fiasco is taken with the infant and takes her in as his own. With the help of his vode, the 4 of them raise her.

Kebiin, his adopted daughter, is Pantoran. Both Fiasco and Kebiin later get the same face marking’s Lucy has, as a way of remembering her after she passed.

Now Baz enjoyed the notion of being the “older brother”. He is the oldest, but Dok and Fiasco tower over him so he takes it as a strike against his ego.

Dok, the second oldest, is the responsible one. He has to deal with his vods shenanigans and TRY to keep them in line. He also learned a variety of first aid and medical from Reg, so he is the one who bandages up the others when they get hurt.

Kari-el, the second youngest, is the bigger shit disturber and always needs to have an eye on him.

Fiasco, the youngest and purest, needs direction and usually gets dragged into shenanigans by Kari-el. He is 100% a himbo and has the biggest heart.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Explore the world of making sustainable plant-based pigments using readily available inexpensive materials.

A simplified version of the process of making Lake Pigments.

I understand how intimidating and difficult it may be to master a new skill for the first time. With that in mind, I decided to share a simplified version of the process of making lake pigments.

If you've ever wanted to create your own natural botanical colour palette, then pre-order my upcoming course "Botanical Lake Pigments" which goes live on the 21st of December 2021.

Enroll here:

https://lostincolours.teachable.com/p...

Use the discount code 'XMAS20' to get a 20% discount - only until December 25th.

.............................................

Follow on:

Blog: www.lostincolours.com

Instagram: @jyotsnapippal

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Please feel free to share and subscribe!

Thank you for watching!

[schizochroal]

These are some of my favorite, less well known, non-malacostracan crustaceans!

Mystacocarids

They are usually placed in a group with Ostracods, that is basal to all other extant crustaceans, meaning crabs, barnacles, and bees are all more closely related to each other than they are too Mystacocarids. They live in between grains of sand on beaches in many parts of the world. They get up to 1 millimeter long. I like how they kinda look like feather dusters, or like stretched out lice with too many legs.

Cephalocarids or Horseshoe shrimp

These guys were only discovered in the 1950s century and since then have been grouped with the remipedes, although recently they typically are instead placed in their own group! They are benthic organisms that live in all kinds of sediment from the shore to the deep sea, and typically eat detritus. They are hermaphroditic, have no eyes , and get up to 4 mm long! I think they look a lot like some primitive, Cambrian era arthropods, and despite being small and probably not likely to fossilize, their fossil record extends back to Ordovician, so the appellation of them being "Cambrian survivors" may very well be accurate.

Notostracans or Tadpole Shrimp

Consisting of the genera Triops and Lepidurus, this group of animals is most closely related to water fleas and clam shrimp , and more distantly to fairy shrimp (such as the famous sea monkey brine shrimp). Like brine shrimp, Triops are a common pet. Both genera are known to have populations in temporary pools of water, and have long lasting eggs that can survive desiccation and years without water before hatching again when the water returns. They also can live in shallow lakes, certain wetlands, and other more permanent ponds, and depending on species live in fresh, brackish or even salt lakes, but don't live in marine environments. They are omnivores and will basically eat anything, including smaller members of their own species. For a relatively small group of crustaceans, they have a wide variety of reproductive strategies, with some populations having sexually reproducing males and females, some having exclusively self fertilizing females, others being primarily hermaphroditic, and still others being different mixes of these. This variation is present even in different populations of the same species. They can get up to about 7 cm long , making them much larger than the previously mentioned crustaceans, but not big enough! They are so cute I wish they were big enough I could give them hugs. I think they should be the size of cats .

Remipedes

Remipedes are really special, the first living remipedes were only discovered in the late 1970s, and weren't properly described until 1981, meaning our knowledge of living remipedes is only as old as goth music. To be honest their lifestyle is pretty goth too, they exclusively live in caves and aquifers, typically in subtropical , coastal regions. As befitting creatures of the dark, they have no eyes or pigmentation, and instead have an advanced sense of smell. While they are also capable of filter feeding, they have venomous fangs that they use to predate on smaller organisms, and indeed are the only venomous crustaceans (outside of insects). Unlike the predatory adults, remipede larva don't seem to eat at all, and it's speculated that they may instead derive nutrition from symbiotic bacteria. Remipedes have 32 segments, and being hermaphroditic, have female and male openings on different segments of their bodies (7 and 14, respectively) . Despite their seemingly primitive bodies and strange lifestyle, remipedes have actually been discovered to be the group of crustaceans that are closest to the Hexapods, including the insects! They get up 4 cm long but I wish they were as long as eels.

I also kinda wanted to write about clam shrimp here but their phylogeny is a bit of a mess right now and I'm not even sure what qualifies as a clam shrimp anymore. They basically look like little clam shells with a crustacean swimming around in them.

[lycomorpha]

Madder red (alizarine) - the newest handmade watercolour paint in my store here. I like making those long thin lines, it gives me an idea of how a paint flows. It ties with red ochre as my favourite red pigment ❤️

Alizarine has been extracted from madder plants for centuries. Plants are still used to make dye, or a lake pigment for use in watercolour and other paints (although not commercially - individual crafters/makers mostly use madder plants now.) In the 19th century alizarine became the first natural dye to be synthetically produced. Most madder reds now come from this more easily made synthetic pigment.

However you make it, alizarine isn't fully light-fast. So for dyeing and commercial applications it's mostly been replaced by more light-fast, bright quinacridone pigments. I prefer the colour of madder red though. It's not *that* fugitive as long as you don't leave things in the sun, and you really can't beat it for mixing warm pinks, peaches, and oranges.

[chichiricatsan]

| "The Ribbon" || The Stupendium (ft. Cami-Cat) |

At the edge of understanding, the border of the known The breaking point of reason, where logic is dethroned Where sense is defenseless and festers on the bone One writer fights a cycle, trying to write a way back home In Night Springs Tonight’s episode: "The Ribbon"

We open, our protagonist, brash, pragmatic, fantasist Trapped within a cabin, frantic, grappling with a manuscript Passionately grasping for a catalyst but the syntax isn’t landing Grabs the draft out from the carriage and abandons it Hе doesn’t really know quite what hе’s writing, but he has to Sits enraptured in the flow of what he’s typing Cramping wrists, his hands in fits The hammers slam the characters, they writhe and dance and twist But never seem to parse more than "surviving" As the grammar shifts A bulb, it flickers for a moment, darkness falls for just a second But it lingers, forms unspoken, hark the call, the shadows beckon Swallowed dawn, still all-consuming, every corner lurking, looming Hear the ichor hymns so soothing as the screaming silence deafens Another page, a hurried scrawl, a night replays, a dozen more Another failed and crumpled ball of "almost, maybe" on the floor Framed within the maze within the print His escape from all this hinges on which page becomes the door

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon

Legacy, it is the dream of any creative to leave their mark Indelible, on the world around them (Which side of the ribbon?) But be careful what marks such an obsession might leave on you

Another chapter opens, but our hero isn’t sure If the pattern is unbroken, has he penned this page before? Is he writing what he’s lived or now reliving what he’s written? Every end with failed beginnings, cast adrift within the lore On a lake that turned to ocean, drowning under weight of legacy When any sentence could be sentenced as the last they ever see Our pages pass relentless, count or not, there is no remedy And so, he sits again, attempts to pen pre-emptive threnody Amorphous in memoriam, in effigy uncertain Unsure if all this really is himself, at least, a version? But these whispers grip the narrative Treat sense with bleak aversion Tendrils bend and break immersion Twisting cursive through recursion His words branch out in paths too dark to follow through trees With pages piled so high, he’s lost the forest for leaves No saying what’s to believe, it doesn’t want him to leave And so these pages end up bound to make the story repeat

Wake up, day starts as the night falls See what dark part of your mind calls You can’t fight what you write and you write what we like Find the light, you might see how the bright fall (You'll need the proper tools to get a proper service) (You won't believe the things that hide) (Right there beneath the surface) Hopelessly floating through tomes with no way of knowing If you are composing or you’re just quoting The prose you’re sewing Ergo ergodic, eroding your ego Going for broke but just broken (No fixer-upper like the coffee pot a-flowin') A hero’s journey burdened by the characters deployed When all your thousand faces are so narratively void Were the adjectives employed worth the marriage you destroyed? (You know huntin' is a hobby the whole family can enjoy)

Deep in the dark and winding eaves of your mind Read from a saga, blind but reaching in kind Leads down a path where leaves and secrets entwine Even apart, two heroes, one storyline Small town - And I know the narrative conventions Establishing shots in the dark A plot with an arc beyond all comprehension I’ll be the first person to admit the present is tense and Not sure if I’ll get these words to fit the presence descending I hear it calling my name, I feel me falling away Chasing these pages but questioning my agency Tasked with a story to break I hear it calling my name, I feel me falling away Am I a character? Actor? A passenger? Cast from the shores of a lake?

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon

Creativity, it is the impetus of any artist To pour themselves into their work (Which side of the ribbon?) But pour too much And you might not like what you find at the bottom of the bottle...

Our hero, once again attempts to find the words he lacks And peers between the lines to see the lines observing back A scratch all too familiar and, oh! The surface cracks What’s the matter, Alan? We can’t both be worthless hacks Now, I know what you’re thinking "This is crazy! Oh, he can’t exist!" You could have made a killing Just embraced a little masochist ‘Stead you’re dried up Trying to earn a living from a manuscript But have you tried for just one second Living as the man you script? I’m the parts you were ashamed of, I’m the parts you tried to fight I’m the parts you told yourself didn’t keep you awake at night I’m the part of you that’s better, you just can’t concede I’m right So, you poured me into pages, then I guess I’m just your type You meld work with your self-worth But tell me, what does that sell for? And was the journey through Hell worth How short you fell on the bell curve? Then one day they’ll forget you, ooh! But I’ve stories to tell first ‘Cause I’m that face that you gave them to be you And baby, I’m well versed What am I when you’re already a shadow of yourself? Tell me who would look at this And then take that down off the shelf? You had it, buddy! All of it! The fame, the glam, the wealth But what’s it worth if you won’t play the hand the round has dealt? "Nightmares don’t use logic" Yeah, we know that you can read Sat there hoping for the credits But it’s me who’s supposed to lead All that hokum in your head But where’s the quote to make you see? That perhaps you're antithetical to the poetry of me!

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon Which side of the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon?

Another chapter ended, but not an arc adjourned A narrative repeating for a plot he can’t discern He’s writing a Departure, but he’s still yet to learn That every line he starts must always end at the Return

And there you have it A vicious cycle scored by the hammer of keys And the ring of the typewriter A writer cursed to relive his own words Trapped in a world of his own making A novel concept Everyone likes to get lost in a good book But be careful what you read In Night Springs

[masivechaos]

todd anderson x gn! reader

prompt: holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition (from this prompt list @creativepromptfills)

warnings: pure fluff! maybe it a little rushed sorry

word count: 0.5k

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You watched the herb, green with a touch of yellow, some were slightly damaged, brown. The flowers, pink, yellow, orange, were majestic, big and caught all your attention. 

But you were mostly focused on the little house in the background, it was white and made of stone. Some smoke evaporated in the blue sky, melting with the rain.

“It’s beautiful,” you said to Todd, eyes still fixed on the painting. He nodded, permeating into the work.

You were both hypnotised by the art, it transmitted to you some feelings you couldn’t describe, goosebumps on your skin, shine in the eyes and even heart palpitations if you were focused enough.

It was crazy how a simple landscape made of pigments could give you so much effect. Was it nature? Or was it the woman in the lake, looking like drowning with a happy face?

You looked down, the title was Let it get you.

You always thought poesy was only in the texts, especially in the poems Todd gave you. But as you were standing there, you found poetry in the way the paint was displayed on the canvas.

Todd's eyes flickered to yours, looking deeply into your pupils. You tore your stare away from the picture. “You’re more beautiful than this” he pointed to the art.

A small smile made its way to your lips “You can’t say that. It’s a work of art” you said quietly as a couple passing by you offered you a severe look. 

Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders “As you are” he gave you a shy smile and you answered with an agape mouth and warm cheeks.

You turned your head, refusing to let Todd see you so flushed. But your eyes fell on a piece of art even more pretty.

It was a sculpture. The ancient Greek inspiration was flagrant, it was not made in the same century as the one you were in but it wasn’t so old.

It was the representation of a naked woman, covering her chest with her arms, she looked like crying even if there was no hint of a tear.

Your eyes widened, astounded by the beauty of the craved stone. You tugged Todd’s brown sleeve, trying to catch his attention as he was lost in the mindblowing painting again.

After a few more attempts, he finally looked at you. You took his hand in yours and started to walk.

You were so excited to get closer to the statue, you couldn’t suppress the big grin on your face and the way you would make little jumps as you walked. You heard Todd chuckle.

You wiggled in between the visitors, shoes slipping on the tiled floor.

Todd didn’t quite follow you, not that he wasn’t interested, you were just too fast for him. You were even bent forward a little when you strode to the sculpture, your arm behind you holding Todd.

You finally stopped, the beam even more present now that you were in front of the white stone.

Todd couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. He found you so sweet to be excited by art, he was less into painting and sculpting, preferring poems or theatre.

But he had to be honest, you would dethrone any piece of art ever.