#polar components

[er-cryptid]

Polar to Cartesian Components [Ex. 1]

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[tiercel]

I lost the original file or deleted it by accident but im thinking about cleaning up an old idea about a frankenbear for an adopt

[makingqueerhistory]

Created by, for, and about lesbians, On Our Backs came about in the tumult of the “feminist sex wars,” a deeply polarizing internal debate in the feminist movement regarding sex, sexuality, pornography, erotica, and BDSM. Divided into sex-positive and anti-porn camps, the sex wars saw rabid disagreement on what the nature of things like pornography were doing for lesbians and for society as a whole. Many feminists argued that pornography and erotica were inherently objectifying and abusive. Writer and theorist Andrea Dworkin argued that not just pornography but heterosexual sex as a whole was a “means of physiologically making a woman inferior,” and claimed that anyone aroused by porn that depicted sexualized violence (whether real or scripted) “was evidence of a mind that’s absorbed the propaganda of the patriarchy and eroticized the subjugation of women.” On the flipside, sex-positive feminists argued that pornography itself was not an inherent evil, but rather its morality was dependent upon the creators and participants. Rubin, one of the founders of the lesbian feminist BDSM group Samois, believed sexual liberation was a key component of the feminist movement and that public expressions of female sexuality were crucial in asserting women’s existence as fully realized beings.

[ddarker-dreams]

As Above, So Below.

Yan Anaxagoras x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalances, some co-dependency and emotional manipulation. Word count: 2.2k.

Anaxagoras is a polarizing figure. 

It’s to be expected, considering his lack of propriety. He cares little for respecting age-old traditions, observing social customs, or sugar coating his words. This has earned him no shortage of detractors. While they might label him a heretic or lob other accusations, even his most ardent opponents can’t deny that he’s brilliant. 

You’re no stranger to his eccentricity. His teaching style fluctuated between the routine and the sublime, you never knew what to expect. Nonetheless, you’ve always felt he takes his students’ edification seriously, hence his extreme tactics. Upon reflection, you concluded that this distinct pedagogy molded your mind into its current shape. Curiosity, drive, and a will to question the supposedly infallible have become your core tenets, courtesy of your professor. 

Who would’ve thought the very skepticism he instilled in you would one day be directed towards him? 

Ever since your most damning accusation left your lips, silence has reigned in his office. You projected a semblance of confidence for most of your exchange, but that façade has long since dissipated. You’re fidgeting, nervous energy building inside like a dam ready to burst. You regret doing this in his office, but the conversation necessitated privacy. The room has always left a strange impression on you. One glance at the notes strewn about his desk confirms the immeasurable gap in your intellect, how he’s discovering answers to questions you’d never think to ask. It’s both awe-inspiring and demoralizing. 

You can feel how he’s observing you, mentally breaking you down to your base components. There are only so many ways one can respond to the charges you’ve presented. Denial is by far the likeliest, followed up by indignation or disbelief. You’d run through this scenario hundreds of times in your head. Each time, he’d said something by now, constructing a meticulous defense. This silence denies you the catharsis rage would allow. Instead, you’re made to sit in a limbo of your own creation, replaying each element of this confrontation. 

Was your evidence lacking? Did your emotions seep through too much, discrediting your logic? Or are you not right in the head, having imagined everything in some paranoia-fuelled haze? 

Gathering your courage, you look up, steeling yourself for whatever stares back.

Anaxa’s composure is striking. He’s smiling, a sentiment akin to fondness softening the lines around his eye. If that wasn’t disconcerting enough, he chuckles, quietly at first, but ending in a hearty diapason. You drop all pretense and openly gawk at him. This goes beyond a few character quirks, this is madness. Righteous fury sends your blood boiling. You stand up, ready to storm out, when he raises his hand, a motion that keeps you in place. 

“Please, sit,” he supplicates. No vestige of his former derangement remains; regardless, it isn’t so easily erased from your memory. Sensing your apprehension, he continues, “Haven’t I taught you to always finish what you’ve started?” 

You part your lips, ready to insist that this is different, but the argument dies on your tongue. He has a way of making you doubt yourself without doing anything. Even now, you’re plagued by an impulse not to disappoint him. Feeling defeated, you return to your seat.

He leans back, crosses his legs, and rests his folded hands on his knee. “How long have you held these suspicions?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Untrue. Try again.” 

“... Since the Month of Gate.” 

“That long, hm?” Anaxa muses. He leans closer, his gracile form hunched forward, like when he’s on the precipice of a great revelation. “We’re in the Six Month now; why wait as long as you did?” 

“Because I couldn’t believe it!” 

He clicks his tongue. “Willful ignorance, then? That’s unbecoming of you.” 

Your heart plummets at his reprimand. Memories of your first few one-on-one oral tests come flooding back, pelting your psyche. He accepted nothing less than your absolute best. You used to think he purposefully set you up for failure, demanding the impossible, but the results proved otherwise. He saw potential in areas you were too frightened to spare a glance. He encouraged — no, demanded — that you face them head-on. Consequently, you discovered yourself capable of feats previously unthinkable. 

That habit of his must extend beyond the lectern. 

“You come to me presenting vague, disconnected data, without the resolve to say what it is I stand accused of.” 

Something in you snaps. “How about falsifying my grades, coercion, bribery, and stalking, to name a few?” 

“An excellent start!” he asserts, slightly breathless from exhilaration. “Finally, we’re getting to the heart of the matter. Your reasoning is solid, if lacking in scope. Expand on your argument.” 

“This— this isn’t a learning exercise. If you don’t take me seriously, I’ll…” 

You trail off, fully aware you lack the means to substantiate a threat. Scowling, you internally berate yourself. He’s successfully stirred up your temper. Who could blame you, though? His disregard is baffling! You know him to be insensitive, sure, but never purposefully cruel. A lump forms in the back of your throat. You fight it with all your might, not wanting to add to your humiliation. He hadn’t made you cry in ages. The last time would’ve been his scathing critique of your first assignment, many years ago. You swore never to endure that again. 

“Don’t look at me like that, my dear,” Anaxa sighs. “I am taking you seriously. Forgive my excitement; I’ve been awaiting this conversation. Now, I know you’re thinking, ‘he’s lost it,’ or something to that effect. Let me reassure you — I’m perfectly sane. How else could I have accomplished what you’ve accused me of?” 

You eye him warily. “So you’re admitting to it?” 

“Not everything. I never tampered with your grades.” 

He’s focusing on the least egregious charge? Wouldn’t anyone else refute stalking or coercion first? You almost left out the dubious grades, it paled so greatly compared to the other accusations. 

“You never told me I failed after an oral test.” 

“I never said you passed, either.” 

“But you looked pleased!”

“Does that translate to a high grade?” 

“It’s disingenuous!” 

“Disingenuous, yes, but falsification? Hardly.” 

“Why is that what you’re caught up on?” you demand, your voice rising in pitch. “The point is, you’re keeping me from graduating. That’s the issue here.” 

“Is it not up to the professor whether their student should graduate or not?” 

Anaxa’s acting facetious to get under your skin and it’s working. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, recalling his lessons about the advantages of preying on your opponent’s emotions in a debate. Is that what this is? Had that been the case, you’d expect a more subtle approach. All this ambiguity is doing you a disservice. He claimed you ‘lacked scope,’ so you opt for a shift in tactics. 

“Why don’t you want me to graduate?” 

“An improvement over your earlier questions,” he notes, nodding in approval. “Still, you should know I dislike giving answers you’ve arrived at yourself.” 

“I haven’t—” 

He interrupts you by speaking your name, his tone low and chill-inducing. Shudders travel along your body. His disappointment reaches into your chest cavity and steals your oxygen. It shouldn’t sting, but it does. This ever-present desire to make him proud has twisted your priorities. Despite yourself, his earlier praise, meager as it was, sent your heart soaring. The acknowledgment of a genius is titillating. 

… Maybe you’re not right in the head either. 

“You’re attracted to me.” 

“A shallow description, albeit accurate.” 

“You don’t want me to leave The Grove.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Some warped sense of attachment, if I had to guess.” 

“Hmph. I wouldn’t call it warped,” Anaxa replies. “The ethics, perhaps, but my intentions aren’t so nefarious. Your talent would be wasted in Okhema. Should you stay, I’d have you as my assistant, a position you’d find challenging and rewarding. Is that not a tempting offer?” 

Your mouth goes dry. 

Tempting? Life-altering would be a better description. The role of assistant to a Sage is enviable for its benefits, monetarily, but more vital, academically. Other scholars are more willing to collaborate, you have access to any materials you research necessitates, and you’re welcomed into previously inaccessible circles. It’s a chance your younger self would’ve killed for. 

However… 

“My intention has always been to return home and apply what I’ve learned. Okhema’s one of the last standing city-states, I want to contribute what I can.”

Anaxa pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re still clinging to those fantasies? Leave that city to the Goldweaver. She has her shortcomings, but when it comes to ruling, she maintains order.” 

“We can’t rely solely on Aglaea. Common people should do their part,” you insist. “I want to see my home prosper, not limp from crisis to crisis.” 

“Such are the times we live in.” 

“So I should just give up, then?” 

“If you have any sense.” 

“Whatever happened to ‘finish what you start?’” 

“We aren’t finished yet,” Anaxa responds, unusually harsh. “Focus on that. Everything else is secondary, a distraction.” 

Your eye twitches. 

“What about what I want?” 

“You want to stay. It’s a misguided civil duty fooling you into believing otherwise.” 

Anaxa’s speaking like he’s objectively correct, as if any claims to the contrary are insipient, a waste of his time. It’s equal parts fascinating and infuriating. You’re reminded of the countless hours spent in this room, passionately defending your rationale against his methodical deconstructions. Except now, it isn’t a theory or method you’re debating, it’s your future. Ultimately, no one aside from you has the final say. His claim that you’re deluded by sentimentality is projection. He’s acting absurd here, not you. 

“I’ve always had great respect for you, professor,” you admit, ignoring a terrible ache in your chest. “You’ve never been afraid to question the status quo, even if it meant challenging the gods. That’s why… that’s why I struggled to believe you’d sabotage me. Call it ‘willful ignorance,’ or whatever, but was it so wrong of me to have faith in my mentor?” 

Anaxa’s eyelashes flutter shut and he smiles. “An appeal to pathos, is it?” 

“It’s called being human, Anaxa.” 

That gets under his skin. His eye is hooded when it reopens, belying irritation. 

“Anaxagoras,” he dryly corrects. 

“Your priorities are a mess.” 

“Insolence should never be tolerated,” he asserts. “I commend your rhetoric. Need I remind you, however, that I’m not to blame for the image you’ve formed of me?” 

You exhale sharply through your nose. So that’s the angle he’s deciding to take? He’s willing to desecrate a shrine you dedicated to him, built with precious memories and experiences?

While studying his physiognomy, you note how stoic he’s become. He’s toned down his usual theatrics. There’s a solemn nature to his gaze, his eyebrow slightly upturned and jaw set firmly. Through his outerwear, you can make out the alchemical symbols inked into his arm. When it comes to pursuing his ambitions, he’s like a man possessed. Nothing is too sacred, not even his own flesh. 

What chance do you have against such determination? 

“You must be lonely, professor.” 

He runs a hand through his hair. “Resorting to insults now, are we?”

“It’s just an observation,” you say. Then, a prolonged pause. “One that you aren’t denying.” 

Anaxa reclines in his seat and clears his throat. “Your company… isn’t unwelcome.” 

It could be your imagination, but you swear there’s a light dusting of pink over his cheeks. He fiddles with the cuffs of his outer garment. Out of all the dubious comments he’s made, that’s what made him self-conscious? The absurdity takes you a few moments to recover from. Anaxa leverages the opportunity, bringing your hands into his. You try pulling away out of instinct, only for him to exert surprising strength. 

Effectively trapped, you cease your futile struggle. 

“Stay,” his voice is so soft, it almost fails to reach your ears. “I’m not above begging, if that’s what it requires.” 

He lowers his head, seeking to propitiate you, as if golden ichor didn’t flow through his veins, denoting his supernal status. He who scorns the divine has taken on the posture of an acolyte. An act befitting a lifelong blasphemer, you suppose. 

Anaxa speaks your full name, each syllable rolling off his tongue like honey. 

“Should you leave, I’ll hasten the eschaton of this world by aiding the black tide.” 

“... And you claim you haven’t ‘lost it?’” 

“Not yet,” he murmurs against your inner wrist. “You’re still here.” 

“What you said could warrant execution.” 

“I prefer to die having had you for myself than to live apart.” 

“You’re mad.” 

“As the progenitor, can a malady fault its symptoms for existing?” 

“Casuistry at its finest.” 

Anaxa finally relinquishes his hold, but not without kissing your racing pulse. 

“Be critical of me all your days, I’ll delight in the offense.” 

You bring your hands to your chest, the skin he lavished in affection tingling. Your head is spinning, like he shifted the world on its axis. His eye scalds you, his magenta pupil burning hot with unrestrained fervor. There's no room for compromise. He will see his designs made manifest or immolate this dying world to punish your rejection.

"What will it be?" he asks.

You close your eyes, unable to withstand his smoldering gaze any longer.

"... My place is by your side, professor."

[creature-wizard]

How the "divine feminine" and the "divine masculine" perpetuate patriarchy - and what we can do about it

One thing the occult is very good at is coming up with systems to categorize and conceptualize things. These can be incredibly useful to us in various ways. But we also have to remember that these systems we come up with are mere constructs, and the actual world itself probably doesn't conform to them as we might like. As the saying goes, all maps are wrong. But as the saying also goes, some maps are useful, and some are more useful than others.

One thing that often comes up in esoteric and occult systems are various forms of binaries or polarities. This often makes sense; for example, without light, you have dark. Without heat, you have cold. One party gives, the other takes. Creatures are born, and eventually they die.

But we can run into problems when we start trying to lump all apparent forms of polarities and dualities together. Here's an example: Life/Death, Masculine/Feminine. In doing this, we create an association that might lead us toward some terrible ways of thinking about real people. If we associate masculinity with death, we can find ourselves thinking that waging war and inventing weapons of death is just what men and masc people do, but women can always be counted on to be diplomats and peacekeepers. Or if we associate femininity with death, we might find ourselves more inclined to think that women and femmes have a natural desire to commit infanticide and tear apart societies, and they must be carefully watched and their freedoms limited so they don't upend civilization and endanger the human race.

These are of course extreme examples, but they are real ways that some people think. And you might think to yourself, "well, I don't polarize genders this way, I think people should try to be a healthy balance of masculine and feminine." And if this is you, I want you to ask yourself why you're so attached to categorizing traits as "masculine" and "feminine" at all.

If you're like most people, you probably just came across this in some form of occult or spiritual literature and just adopted it without really asking yourself too many questions about it. When we see something framed as ancient or higher wisdom, it's pretty easy to take it fairly uncritically, especially if it aligns with our unconscious biases in some way. It often doesn't cross our minds to ask where these terms really come from, and what they signified in their original contexts.

You may have heard that male/female stuff has roots in alchemy, which is true. But the thing with alchemy is that it was using familiar terms and concepts to describe chemical processes and reactions. Think of it a little bit like how we use terms like "male plugs" and "female plugs." While old-time alchemy did have a spiritual component to it, it was more about believing that you had to be spiritually pure to make your desired alchemical reactions happen. When alchemy gave way to chemistry, and people began to realize that your spiritual condition had nothing to do with your ability to make things happen in the lab, certain people began to seek more mystical meanings in the works of alchemists, and this idea of masculinity and femininity as transcendent mystical forces unto themselves really started to emerge. It was an incredibly easy concept to project on all kinds of mythologies, because a lot of myths have male and female figures interacting in various ways.

Now the thing is, having myths with male and female figures doesn't mean seeing masculinity and femininity as discrete forces or powers unto themselves. It can mean that they simply personified various figures as male or female depending on what their own experiences and cultural biases suggested to them. For example, straight men tend to think of love and lust as something they experience when they see a beautiful woman. In a patriarchal society, where men are calling most of the shots in conceptualizing the divine, a love deity is thus likely to be personified as a beautiful woman. Straight men can also see beautiful women as a source of discord and strife, so it makes sense that love goddesses would have war aspects to them.

A society where men are sent to war while wives are left behind to raise the children and tend the farm is going to produce an association with men and violence, while the act of nurturing will be associated with women. Men who deny higher education to women are going to produce a society where intellectual pursuits and higher abstract reasoning are associated with masculinity, and intuition and practical knowledge are associated with women. A society where men are seen as bringers of social order and upholders of civilization while women are viewed more like forces of nature than rational actors will associate men with civilization and women with natural, wild spaces.

In continuing to associate these characteristics with the "divine feminine" and the "divine masculine," we preserve and perpetuate the implicit biases created by these patriarchal societies. And while there is absolutely value in saying, "hey, these 'feminine' things are actually valuable and worth respect actually," framing them as intrinsically feminine in any sense - physically, psychologically, or metaphysically - will undermine any effort to dismantle patriarchy and bring true equality.

So what can you do? I would suggest being more specific.

Do you mean passive/active? Then just say it.

Do you mean giver/receiver? Then just say it.

Do you mean harmonizing/disrupting? Then just say it.

Whatever you have filed under boxes labeled "masculine" and "feminine," you can simply take them out of those boxes and find better categories for them.

[silver-soul00]

You don't like Wenclair? Absolutely OK, that's all very well, but to call it forced is just a big mistake and I will explain why (the artist of the fan art on Percy and Annabeth is Sethkiel, Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram) + Percy Jackson spoilers about his romantic relationship in the books

Enid is in effect an ideal choice as a partner for Wednesday Addams not only because of their obvious character complementarity, but also because of the positive impact a relationship based on their dynamic could have on both personalities.

Various psychological and social studies support the idea that interpersonal relationships based on complementarity and mutual acceptance are more likely to be healthy and long-lasting. Wednesday, with her introverted, cynical and distant character, is balanced by Enid, who stands out for her emotional openness, empathy and desire to connect with others.

This polarity creates a synergy that not only enriches their friendship but could serve as the basis for a meaningful romantic relationship.

One of the key components is the unconditional support Enid offers Wednesday. According to research on the psychology of relationships, emotional support is one of the strongest indicators of relationship satisfaction.

Enid, despite the difficulties Wednesday poses to her, constantly stands by her side, demonstrating a patience and understanding that goes beyond mere friendship.

This type of dynamic is consistent with the findings of Feeney and Collins (2015), who highlight how relationships characterised by a partner who serves as a ‘secure base’ improve resilience and psychological well-being for both parties. For Wednesday, who often shows difficulties in trusting others and expressing her emotions, having a figure like Enid beside her could help her explore deeper aspects of her emotional identity.

Moreover, Enid represents a form of positivity and optimism that counterbalances Wednesday's cynicism. This counterbalance, far from being a hindrance, proves beneficial. Studies conducted by Gable et al. (2006) suggest that relationships in which one partner promotes positive emotions and encourages the other to experience joy and pleasure have a positive impact not only on individual well-being, but also on couple cohesion. Enid's ability to celebrate life's simple moments and accept Wednesday as it is can offer her a safe space in which to lower her defences without feeling judged.

The chance of a queer relationship between Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair is not only coherent with the long history of the Addams Family, but also represents a natural evolution of Wednesday's character.

The Addams Family, since its creation, has been a symbol of rebellion against social norms and celebration of difference.

Charles Addams conceived the family as a parody of traditional American families, overturning their conventional values.

While middle-class American families aspired to normality, the Addams family found pride and beauty in their eccentricity. This attitude made the family an icon for anyone who felt marginalized or different, including queer communities. Their gothic aesthetic, black humour and unqualified acceptance of all forms of strangeness made them symbols of inclusivity, even if this theme was rarely made explicit directly.

Wednesday Addams, in particular, embodies this challenge to social projections. From her earliest appearances, she has been portrayed as an intelligent, sarcastic and deeply independent outsider who rejects imposed social norms. In the films of the 1990s, this nature is clearly expressed: Wednesday, despite being young, is perfectly aware of her identity and interests, refusing any attempt to force her to conform.

An emblematic example is her relationship with Joel Glicker in The Addams Family 2.

Joel, an insecure and nerdy boy, becomes an ally and romantic interest, but the relationship is clearly devoid of the traditional dynamics of teenage romance.

Wednesday shows interest, but expresses it in his own way, with humour and detachment. This episode shows that Wednesday is not ‘immune’ to romance, but lives it according to her own rules.

In the Netflix series Wednesday, the dynamic with Enid Sinclair adds an even greater level of complexity. Enid, with her sunny disposition and expansive nature, is the perfect counterbalance to Wednesday's coldness.

Their relationship is built on a foundation of trust, emotional intimacy and mutual support that far surpasses any other connection Wednesday develops in the series, including those with her male romantic interests, Tyler and Xavier. Psychological studies, such as that of Aron et al. (1997) on interpersonal intimacy, show that the strongest relationships are often based on complementary differences. Wednesday and Enid embody this complementarity: the dark and the light, the rational and the emotional, detachment and empathy.

This kind of dynamic is often the basis of the most memorable romantic relationships in fiction, and it would be only natural for their bond to evolve into something more.

The criticism that a queer relationship between Wednesday and Enid would be a ‘stretch’ often masks prejudices about queer inclusivity. Interestingly, audiences unreservedly accept heterosexual romance in contexts that do not always align perfectly with the characters' personalities.

For instance, in the 1990s films, no one criticised the fact that Wednesday, a deeply cynical and aloof girl, had a romantic moment with Joel. Similarly, in the Netflix series, her interactions with Tyler and Xavier are accepted without particular objection, despite the fact that Wednesday shows very little genuine interest in either of them.

This demonstrates a double standard: heterosexual romance is perceived as ‘natural’ and acceptable, while queer romance must be justified or considered as extraordinary.

Queer representation in the media, as studies by GLAAD (2022) show, is crucial in normalising these relationships and offering positive role models for those who identify outside traditional norms. The relationship between Wednesday and Enid would not only be consistent with the characters, but also an important step towards greater inclusivity. Furthermore, the argument that Wednesday ‘is not made for romance’ is easily disproved by her narrative history. She has never been a traditionally romantic character, but that does not mean she cannot develop genuine and deep connections.

Her emotional openness towards Enid in the series is a clear sign of personal growth and openness towards meaningful relationships.

Finally, it is important to point out that many of the most famous romantic relationships in fiction were born out of deep friendships. From Harry Potter (Ron and Hermione) to Friends (Ross and Rachel), the transition from friendship to romance is a widely accepted narrative trope, especially when it involves heterosexual couples. It is hypocritical to consider it a stretch only in the case of queer relationships. In the case of Wednesday and Enid, their emotional intimacy and mutual support lay a solid foundation for a romantic relationship that would not only be consistent with the Addams Family's history, but would also represent a natural evolution of Wednesday's character, keeping her rebellious and non-conformist essence intact.

Let's take a concrete example to show that the basis of the Wenclair ship is valid?

Percy Jackson.

The relationship between Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase is built in a gradual way and represents a story arc that starts with friendship and grows into romance, making it a perfect example to show that it is not ‘forced’ when a close bond turns into love.

The saga of Percy Jackson and the Gods of Olympus offers an excellent example of how a friendship can develop naturally into a romantic relationship. The dynamic between Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase develops gradually, reflecting a relationship-building model that emphasises mutual growth, respect and trust. Initially, Percy and Annabeth meet in the context of Camp Half-Blood, where significant differences in their characters emerge. Annabeth, rational and strategic, tends to see Percy as an unprepared novice, while Percy perceives Annabeth as distant and authoritarian. Nevertheless, their shared adventures lead to a mutual respect that becomes the basis for a solid friendship.

In later books, such as The Sea of Monsters and The Titan's Curse, their relationship deepens through moments of vulnerability and emotional connection. Annabeth shares with Percy her ambitions and fears, such as the dream of building something lasting or the burden of her loyalty to the gods. Percy, for his part, shows a growing sense of protection towards Annabeth, being willing to risk his life to save her on several occasions. These episodes mark a gradual evolution of their relationship, but without ever abandoning the friendly core that sustains it.

The turning point occurs in the fourth book of the saga, The Battle of the Labyrinth, when Percy begins to acknowledge his romantic feelings for Annabeth. However, the transition does not happen abruptly; both characters, being still teenagers, navigate uncertainly between friendship and love, making their relational development realistic and free of narrative forcing. In later books, such as The Final Clash and especially in the Heroes of Olympus series, Percy and Annabeth consolidate their romantic relationship without ever losing the bond of friendship that characterises them. This balance is particularly evident in The House of Hades, where their mutual support, even in extreme situations, underlines the depth of their bond.

The transition between friendship and love in the case of Percy and Annabeth is an example of a well-constructed narrative, reflecting real dynamics also highlighted by psychological studies. According to Kaplan and Keys (1997), many successful romantic relationships develop from pre-existing friendships due to the presence of trust and emotional intimacy as solid foundations. Moreover, this dynamic is widely accepted by the public, as it reflects common human experiences. The story of Percy and Annabeth demonstrates that the transition from friendship to romance can be organic and believable, especially when constructed with attention to the emotional aspects of the characters.

Applying this perspective to the case of Wednesday and Enid, it becomes clear that such a transition would not be ‘forced’, as is often claimed by some critics. The two girls share a relationship that is based on complementarity and mutual growth: Wednesday is cynical and reserved, while Enid is expansive and empathetic, and together they create a balance similar to that between Percy and Annabeth.

To ignore this possibility is to operate a double standard, considering acceptable for heterosexual couples a dynamic that is labelled as unnatural or artificial in the case of a queer couple. The representation of Wednesday and Enid in a romantic relationship would not only be consistent with traditional narrative dynamics, but could also contribute to greater inclusivity and a richer, more nuanced representation of relationships in pop culture.

[lsunstreakerl]

is there anything about polarity that you want to talk about but haven’t been asked the right question yet? I’m always so intrigued about how you flesh out characters or aspects of a verse that most of the time doesn’t make it into a fic bc of flow.

CHARLES. also worldbuilding BUT CHARLES.

I'm sure some of you were wondering at some point "hey sunny, if things are this bad, why isn't charles stepping up?" especially when you consider he is as equally prone to self sacrifice as max is.

the answer is that charles has a hormone disorder! some relevant worldbuilding below:

designation isn't influenced by genetics as much as it is environment. a pup is more likely to present as whatever designation the pack needs. this is a lot of nature vs nurture. for charles, he's raised very alpha leaning, with the assumption that he'll also present that way— but he loses his father almost directly around his presentation, and the family needs an omega to ground them. arthur isn't old enough to present, and lorenzo is their pack alpha now. their mother is an omega, but she needs the stability, and she can't provide it herself.

so charles has an incredibly rough presentation that goes against everything he's been raised in the direction of. he learns how to be an omega at a breakneck speed, and because he'd been really close to presenting as an alpha before the situation changed, he produces an imbalance of hormones, and he associates releasing omega-specific soothing pheromones with an incredibly traumatic situation for him.

this means when he tries to project soothing pheromones on purpose, he gets triggered. considering how important it is for a pack omega to be level headed and handle situations objectively, this pretty much entirely disqualifies him from the position.

max somewhat knows this? he knows there's reasons that charles isn't pack omega, and he's always taken that at face value— if charles ever wants him to know he would tell him.

lewis knows it more in detail, which is why his conversation with charles when he finds him with max is so important! he knows charles is beating himself up about it, because while they might not have a solid idea of what's going on with max at that moment, max's earlier attitude when he'd yelled at everyone is starting to showcase the strain and cracks of the pressure that max is under. charles is shouldering some of that blame, because he feels if he could just get over his problems, he'd be able to step up. (obviously that's not how that works, and lewis knows that.)

max's presentation is somewhat of an opposite situation. he's a fairly gentle soul, and if it weren't for the influence of racing and jos, he would've presented omega naturally. instead, he's in an environment where being an omega isn't safe. because of this, he presents alpha— and he's okay with that! he slots into the role of a pack second extremely well. if not for the grid pack needing a pack omega, he never would've experienced the designation switch, but obviously that's not what happened.

max handling all these additional responsibilities that are typically the pack omega's starts to trigger those latent chemical and hormonal connections that he doesn't use, since he utilizes the alpha ones instead. this leads to a period where he's dealing with both instincts, which is why he's more prone to being overwhelmed in the middle of the fic.

the key component to a successful switch actually is that he sleeps with lewis frequently. max's subconscious is able to recognize that the pack needs a pack omega, which is why the switch starts, but it also needs the reassurance that losing him as an alpha won't hurt the pack. max regularly sleeping with lewis satiates that chemical need to see that there's a competent alpha still able to take care of everyone. (if they'd done the bitching intentionally, he would've switched much faster by sleeping with all the alphas, because it would've made him more reassured that the pack would still be okay even when they were "down an alpha" when he switches designations)

the actual internal part switching sucks. everyone is born intersex (yippie!) and depending on designation is how the body decides what pipes to use, so to speak. so max still has omega anatomy, but it's not in use until the switch is initialized, at which point he has an exceedingly uncomfortable period of time as his body adjusts to like. basically changing channels. (this is why they do the ultrasound in monaco— it allows them to see what anatomy is "dominant". in max's case, his dominant anatomy has switched.)

anyways :D thank you very much for asking because I did genuinely put a thought of thought into the worldbuilding for polarity and there is no possible way for me to have fit all that in the fic LOL.

[sunshinescribes]

Hi! Can I request how law would react if his partner calls him baby or babe (any pet names) by accident in front of everyone? The crew doesn’t really know but they got a feeling they’re dating

Baby

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader

Warning: Established Relationship, Heart Pirates shenanigans, Soft Law, Reader is stupid in love with Law (as we all are)

You swear you can hear color and see sound…or at least you feel like you can.

Pulling an all-nighter working on internal ship repairs seemed like such a good idea in theory. It felt like pure genius on your part, being able to avoid the headache of having to work around your unruly crewmates—or worse, having to stop completely.

You love them, you really do, but your fellow Heart Pirates are a rowdy bunch. You don’t entirely blame them, though. It’s difficult being stuck in the ocean’s depths for days on end, missing the blinding sun and salty sea air—you hunger for it just as much as anyone, but when denied, you’d at least like to make certain that the Polar Tang is able to get you all to your next destination in one piece.

All your hard work and good intentions, and yet you had failed to consider one pivotal component: how long it would take to complete your repairs. The hours had passed in the blink of an eye, and much to your surprise, your late-night work had spilled into the early morning hours.

 You wonder how Law does it. He spends nights nose-deep in medical texts or hunched over his desk, flipping between scrolls and maps with ease. The dark circles under his eyes are a clear sign that he doesn’t get nearly as much sleep as he needs, but he moves and thinks like a fully rested man. Even when you slip into his room in the late hours, mindful of making sure your crewmates don’t know where you run off to, you find Law at his desk, lost in that brilliant mind of his.

He makes it look good, but you aren’t so sure you can say the same. You trudge down the narrow halls of the Polar Tang like an undead creature—sluggish and half-alert.

But you’re so close. Nearly done with your work. All you need is just one final push, a little boost to keep you on the mend. You can already taste the creamy milk and rich espresso on your tongue, topped with a dribble of caramel, just for that additional burst of energy. Yes, that’s exactly what you need.

You feel like you could float into the mess hall if you weren’t so worn. You nearly stumble as you push your way inside, avoiding Bepo while he rushes to his seat with Shachi and Penguin in tow. The trio is already deep in an argument that you can’t quite make out but know isn’t even worth listening to. You swear those three share blood, even if Bepo isn’t human.

Ikkaku is already seated, protecting her plate from Hakugan, who still can’t seem to grasp the concept of keeping his grubby little hands out of other people's plates, no matter how many times Ikkaku or Jean Bart try to beat it into him.

Others slip in and out of the mess hall, exchanging a kind greeting or snide remark before shuffling to their stations.

You hear Law before you see him, his rich voice carrying through the crowded space as he calmly explains to Uni that the Polar Tang will have to make port soon. You can’t help but stare. Even in your hazy, sleep-deprived state, Law is still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Reliable as always, Uni nods before rushing to the control room. Law catches sight of you as you stagger towards the counter. His expression is flat, his lips pulled in a tight line, but you notice the softness in his eyes. No matter how convincing his scowl may be, his eyes are always so telling—the singular piece of his soul he can’t hide.

He shifts closer, leaving a respectable space so as not to draw attention to you two. “Good morning.”

You yawn the greeting back unceremoniously, and god, you swear you feel your heart stutter when you glimpse the smile he’s trying so hard to hide.

“Late night?”

Your response is a tired hum. A joke sits comfortably on your tongue, but you can’t compel yourself to say it. You need your morning boost before you fall face-flat on the floor. You glance up at the cupboard, too tired to struggle.

“Baby,” you call, your voice slightly slurred, “can you pass me a cup?"

Law reaches above you, finding the mug you always seem to gravitate to—it’s nearly in his hands before he stops suddenly.

He stands as still as a statue, and you know your confusion is evident. 

The sudden silence that falls over the room doesn’t help. You can’t make out the usual jokes and jabs shared at the tables. No clattering forks. No loud, obnoxious slurping.

Did you push yourself too far? Is this what sleep-deprivation psychosis feels like?

“…baby?” Penguin questions.

Oh.

Oh shit.

The voices come all at once. A shrill cry from Bepo. Shocked laughter from Jean Bart. Shachi and Penguin yell over each other, triumphantly claiming they knew it. The only person who seems wholly unaffected is Ikkaku, who shoots you a knowing grin before returning her attention to her plate.

You glance at Law, who glares at his crew as a multitude of questions are fired his way. Each inquiry is louder than the last, and voices begin to blend as your crewmates shout over each other, desperately trying to get to the bottom of your secret relationship.

Maybe it’s the sleep-deprived delirium that makes the situation funnier than it actually is, because you laugh. Inelegant and uncontrolled. You shoot Law an apologetic glance, attempting to look as guilty as you feel, but from the way your shoulders shake and your lip quivers, you know you look anything but.

You expect his signature scowl—the look that makes marines blood run cold—but you receive something far sweeter—that surprised, uncertain smile that makes Law look years younger. His irritation has a habit of fading when you laugh, as if your joy is contagious.

He ignores the cries of his crew, finally passing you your cup.

“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to sound regretful, but your voice sounds far too cherry, laced with laughter.

“Don’t be.” There’s a devious glint in his golden eyes, and you hear the tell-tale sound of his room being created before you even see the blue film that contains it. “You have to deal with them now.”

You swear you hear that snarky chuckle of his, but he’s gone too quick, replaced with a crumpled piece of paper. There’s a moment of silence, a temporary peace, before all eyes fall on you, and the questions spill forth once more.

A/N: I WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG TO FINISH THIS REQUEST!! Despite that, I hope you enjoyed!

divider credit: cafekitsune

[sphacelating]

thought i’d add my two cents to the “is andrew a sadist?” discussion going on from a sadist’s perspective. andrew displays very strong and consistent sadistic tendencies, but understanding those requires understanding what the source of that gratification is. it is, of course, power, and everything in andrew’s life revolves around it.

most tend to think of sadism as exclusively sexual and the plain polar opposite of masochism— which, granted, it often is for people whose sadism is limited to the confines of the bedroom. when it isn’t, however, i wouldn’t say that’s particularly accurate. sadism in the paraphilic sense is just a psychological association between sexual pleasure and seeing others in pain that develops gradually when you get off enough times to that specific stimuli. your brain’s reward system now associates it with the rush of dopamine you get when you bust a nut. congrats, you’ve pavlov’d yourself into a fetish. this is not more innate than jacking it to footjobs on the daily and then getting aroused when you see feet.

i can’t relate to the exclusively kinky flavor of sadism myself, and i wouldn’t consider people for whom it is only a kink true sadists. for people with a sadistic personality, the gratification is emotional, sometimes exclusively so with no sexual component to it, and even with that component, the sexual arousal is secondary. no matter how many wires get crossed between how the sadism actually manifests and the core of that desire or need, the motivation is almost always vengeance and punishment for a perceived crime, projected onto whoever is seen as deserving of that punishment.

andrew sure as hell wants to avenge himself. that’s a recognizable pattern in his thought processes and behavior.

i saw his behavior towards ashley being used as a reference point here, but i personally do not see andrew’s sadistic tendencies applying to ashley— on the contrary, she’s the one person i’d say is exempt from his sadistic inclinations, who he instead feels mental discomfort when he’s causing her harm. his internal conflict shuts his sadism down instantly when he has thoughts along those lines, when he feels a desire to hurt her, because the sense of fulfillment he finds in being her one source of safety, comfort and happiness is stronger than acting on any sadistic desire would be. that’s where he gets his sense of purpose, his reason for living, and the two desires are naturally completely incompatible.

when andrew reflects on his lack of regret over murdering the warden, he admits that he only regrets not killing him slower and making him suffer, deriving pleasure from it, rather than hacking him up impulsively out of necessity to defend and protect his sister. why? the guy supposedly leered at ashley, looked at her as a potential sexual conquest, and for that, andrew would certainly gouge your eyes out and scrape out your eye sockets with a rusty spoon, and he’d savor every moment. my point: every other murder he commits is a stark contrast to the manner in which he kills ashley. he does this with tenderness and bitter sadness, her death pains him so unbearably much that he commits suicide the moment she is gone and dead in his arms, and he makes sure her death is quick and painless and that she doesn’t suffer. and to andrew, this is a loving act of mercy.

this deep love and care for her is not his sole motivator here, we’re not gonna do him the favor of pretending otherwise, he has utterly selfish motives as well, but andrew cannot stand the thought of abandoning ashley, so if he dies, she will have to die with him. in his mind, he needs to spare her from living without him even for a second, save her from the agony she would feel when he is gone and she’s alone in the world without her brother. if he kills her, he won’t have to leave her, and he could never, ever be the one to make his sister’s deepest fear into a horrifying reality. incomprehensible logic if you do not think like andrew does, but he’s not exactly sane.

as for the reactive abuse he inflicts on ashley, it does undeniably feel good to him in the heat of the moment, but it’s not sadistic gratification. it’s a wholly different emotional response. it’s relief from the extremely distressing feeling of powerlessness, the result of ashley relentlessly robbing him of any control until he feels small, helpless and cornered. perceived powerlessness induces panic, it suffocates him, and he lashes out accordingly with explosively excessive aggression when he’s triggered. he takes his power and control violently, whether this is when ashley pushes him so far with her abuse of him that he responds with violent reactive abuse, or when the woman in 302 attempts to retake control over the situation by lunging for the nail gun. the latter may look like self-defense, but only if you don’t know that andrew graves is a pathological liar.

the narrator generously informs us that andrew snapped and stabbed the woman in 302 way, way more times than is needed to kill a person, that he kept going until he felt satisfied even after she clearly stopped breathing, because the “dumb bitch” had the gall to think he was stupid and embarrass him.

to andrew, she insulted him, she deserved it, and it felt good and right to stab the fuck out of her for it. if the circumstances he found himself in simply made her death inevitable, if this was only a necessary evil to eliminate all witnesses, there was certainly no need for andrew to mutilate her.

but here we are. in the flashback to his point of view in apartment 302, we see the undeniable gratification he gets from power and control before the murder when he has the knife to her throat and she is entirely at his mercy, her life is in his hands, when she’s scared of him, and we see it again in the grand finale and act itself when he throws her onto the bed and stabs her to death without a second of hesitation. which he does when she shows that she is not as afraid of him as she should be— as andrew wants her to be. to andrew, fearing him is respecting him, and she was stupid enough to disrespect him when he’s holding a knife.

now this woman is just like ashley. andrew goes fucking batshit, sees red and snaps like a rubber band wound too tight, and the parallel here is clear as day to me given how we saw ashley treat him just a few scenes prior— i’m not scared of you, andy, who do you think you’re talking to?

ashley belittles him, subtly humiliates him when he stands up to her and challenges her to make him back down. she doesn’t take him even remotely seriously even when he makes an honest threat on her life, and now this “dumb bitch” doesn’t either. she doesn’t think he has it in him, so sure he’d never actually use that knife, he’d never actually kill her, he is not a real threat, he’s weak, he’s spineless, he’s a pushover, a doormat, he’s all bark and no bite. yeah, andrew’s livid, and there’s no fucking way he will let that slide when he has nothing to lose and everything to gain by killing this woman.

he will fucking show her how seriously she should have taken him— andrew makes a terrifying example out of her, she will take his sister’s punishment because he wouldn’t think of ashley as truly deserving of it, and he definitely enjoys every single second of it. that taste of power? i’ve no doubt he enjoyed it more than he’d ever imagined enjoying anything in his life.

none of this sadism ends up directed towards ashley at all. in fact, he obsesses over whether or not she’s safe and sound upstairs even as he’s reveling in the complete power and control he has over their notoriously fuckable neighbor. ashley returns unscathed and immediately calls him out on his shit, observant as she is— he killed the lady in 302 because he enjoys killing, not out of pure necessity, that’s an excuse, and he got off on it.

this is hardly ashley making shit up from a dismissive throwaway comment andrew made about the woman being easy on the eyes, even if he defensively reduces it to that to make ashley look and feel irrational. she can’t prove anything, so andrew will die on that hill insisting he was just dutifully protecting them both from harm, while this is ashley’s insecurities talking and making her act crazy. as usual. he clearly jumps through mental hoops to justify what he did and lies his way around his motives and intent constantly, but when ashley accuses him of getting his rocks off killing their downstairs neighbor, there’s his “even if i did, who cares, she’s dead.”

king of telling on himself even when he’s bullshitting.

[tatiejosie]

🌸🔗 DONNELL they/them - fusion of Atom Eve & Donald Ferguson

Yayyyy the OGs know about this old ass concept already, but I decided that I wanted to share it on here too. [slams fists on table] FUSION DESIGN FUSION DESIGN FUSION DESIGN FUSION DESI

I like the idea that Eve can alter Donald's body because he's not made of organic matter, so atp why not fuse them. It's very fun to fuse two people who are polar opposites in body type + overall style!

▶ They're 48% machine and 52% organic, and Donald's cybernetic components are assimilated with Eve's organic system.

▶ As a result, Donnell can alter the inorganic matter of their body due to Donald's cybernetic nature overturning Eve's mental block.

▶ Cautious and alert, but eager to help! And they won't hesitate to jump into action.

▶ They can fly. But Eve is used to propel herself according to the mass of her own body, so the process of flying takes a while to be remotely graceful again.

i don't even know if this qualifies as an OC but. well. charadesign exercise once again

[mintchocolateteacats]

So, I was thinking about O' Medusa by @naffeclipse and how the different myths interpret what counts as "looking at" a gorgon. In the context of being turned to stone...

Some component must be magicalish, since I am pretty sure it was stated that being severely nearsighted or completely blind might shield a Y/N. That and being a sheep 🐑

I have so many questions, do refections count? like a mirror, or the surface of still water... what about modern materials? plastic, the glass in glasses? Then I thought, wait ... what about polarized sunglass... and I couldn't get the thought out of my head until I drew it.

reference photos and the line art under the cut

AO3 link to Naffeclipse's story. it is currently user locked due to the AI scalping nonsense

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62193280/chapters/159094330

the green background on surprised Eclipse is because Briar says they smell like a garden. but the blue background made the skin tone on the second drawing pop.

made with colored pencils

made with sharpie, metallic sharpie and colored pencil

[askvectorprime]

Where do the names "Autobot" and "Decepticon" even come from? Are there any sort of root words that go with them?

Dear Etymology Enthusiast,

This answer is complicated by language barriers that span galaxies. As Galvatron alluded to—albeit in tones I would never use—Cybertronian words can be very linguistically dense; a translation that conveyed every nuance of our equivalent for "Autobot" would take over seventeen minutes for a human to say! As such, "Autobot" and "Decepticon" are only approximations of the neocybex names of these factions.

In many universes, my faction is named for the ideals of freedom and autonomy—hence, "Autobot" is derived from the term "autonomous". Sometimes this reflects a casting off of Quintesson rule or triumph over a caste system, but in other contexts—sometimes simultaneously—it reflects a darker facet of Cybertronian history. A famous bot once said that autonomy was a gift, a spark of sentience kindled by Primus himself. That bot's name was Nova Prime, and he used that belief to justify the subjugation of hundreds of alien worlds.

The suffix translated as "-bot" encompasses ideas such as "person", "individual", "independent agent". It could be considered an adaptation of the common English-language "man", of course—you might be familiar with the Aerialmen, the Dinomen, and the Sparkamen—but "bot" conveys that it most commonly refers to mechanical lifeforms. While typically used in the names of teams and factions, occasionally an individual might be called "Dinobot" or "Dreadbot"; such sobriquets can be seen as similar to a human being carrying a family name as their first name, such as "Jackson".

As for "Decepticon"… much has been said of the phrase "you are being deceived." In many universal clusters, this is indeed the earliest origin of the term. "Decepticon" suffers to a greater degree from the imperfections of localization. In many universes, Cybertronian language uses nuances related to subject and object that fail to translate, especially when neologism is concerned; "Decepticon" principally suggests "deceptive" in English, but in its original Cybertronix, the waveform can simultaneously be read as "the deceived".

The "-con" suffix is not dissimilar to "-bot", though it carries subtly but significantly different implications. "Person" is an adequate translation, but its meaning is much broader, not being restricted to living creatures; you may know of data-cons, information storage devices commonly used in my home reality. The closest equivalent to the suffix in your language would be "entity"—or, more bluntly, "thing". As such, the translation "-con" is derived from your language's "construct", a created object or idea.

The reasoning for the use of this suffix varies across the multiverse. On versions of Cybertron where Functionism took hold, Cybertronians of lower labor castes, or with alternate modes considered fit only for use by others, were more likely to have "con" names or be assigned categories like "Constructicon", "Agricon" or "Recordicon". Conversely, in universes where the Decepticons originate as a military junta, the use of "-con" carries the suggestion of component; all Decepticons are considered to be a part of Megatron's war machine. These implications, of course, carry over to the Mini-Cons. While I am proud to count Safeguard as a friend and partner, for much of my world's history, Decepticon and Autobot alike treated his kind as "smart tools", as mere objects to be collected. Regardless, the Great War created extreme political polarization of the "-con" suffix, and nearly no self-described Autobot adopts it; even as Decepticons freely use "bot" to describe themselves, "con" is almost exclusively used by Autobots as a term of animosity.

One more suffix you may have heard of is "-tron"; here, the root is "positron"—which, before the introduction of microscope alt-modes, we simply understood to be the stuff of sparks. The Cybertron factions of realities like the G1 World and BT World draw their names from a well of indigeneity; unlike the invading, colonizing Quintessons, the Cybertrons are the true sparks of the planet and derive their name thus. The Destrons, then, are destructive sparks who oppose the planet. Naturally, "-bot" and "-con" recur in these worlds too, following similar etymological patterns.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 10

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 (Special) | 19

It was an early morning start for everyone aboard the Polar Tang.

Zoro and Sanji had spent the night together in the bubble ship parked on deck for a much needed quality time, much to Niji's dismay. The helmeted blue-haired commander found them ass naked in their hiding place at first light and woke them up. He was finally able to finish Sanji's claw gauntlet fitting which took no time at all. While he was there, he saw an opportunity to improve the ship's primitive maneuvering system to ensure that the bulky vessel has the capability to take sharper, faster turns in case of any events of unexpected knock up streams.

After getting kicked out of the bubble ship by the demanding Niji, Zoro ran back to their room to dress up and finish packing for the trip. He had nothing but his underwear on him after getting his clothes torn up during his crazy night of passion with the blonde. He received a lot of stares and some light-hearted teasing from the crew during his walk of shame but he wore it with a shameless smirk. In his mind, it was all worth it. Though he makes it a point to try and patch up the garment that his friends worked so hard to make for him later.

Sanji stayed in the ship, also naked after having his clothes somehow lost in the process. He has entrusted the swordsman to fetch him his travel pack that he'd prepared the night before so he sat waiting on one of the passenger seats, snuggling himself in Niji's long cloak to keep warm. As much as he appreciates his brother's thoughtfulness by offering him his cape, and the extra effort he's putting in to improving the ship, he still holds a grudge on him for picking on his beloved Marimo, especially after last night's progression in their relationship. He glares down at the blue-haired commander who is currently in deep concentration, fine-tuning the steering wheel from the pilot seat.

Zoro returns wearing fresh new robes and holding two travel packs over his shoulders. He begins hauling them into the ship while standing outside by the door to respectfully keep his distance from the blonde's brother who is hard at work. He starts arranging bags under the side consoles to ensure that their possessions are secured and out of the way. Sanji gratefully grabs spare clothes from his own bag from where he sat.

Before dressing up, the blonde suddenly realises the perfect opportunity for revenge–in front of the very man his brother had picked on. He leans back against his seat, hugs his knees up to his chest, and strokes a lock of hair, trying to play it casual.

Sanji

So Niji, how's our chef Cosette doing?

Caught completely off guard, Niji yanks the steering wheel off its panel, tearing wires and other components that he'd meticulously been working on for the last hour. His face had suddenly gone scarlet red and blood trickled down his nose.

Sanji smirks at his brother's reaction. He leans his cheek against the palm of his hand and tilts his head innocently, watching the man practically start hyperventilating. He could have sworn he saw tiny sparks of electricity emit at the tip of his blue hair.

Zoro looks shocked and pissed at the commander for breaking Nami's old bubble ship.

Niji

I–hah–why would I…she's a servant. Loyal and… dedicated and… talented and…. How… why would you–hah–what possessed you to think that I would know–?

Niji looks down at the panel where he'd ripped out the steering wheel and then at his hand where he's gripping it. His tight hold around the handles had contorted its shape. Slowly, he realises what he'd done. He drops to his knees and starts repeatedly banging his head against it in frustration.

Sanji

So…I take it she's well then?

Niji pauses his movements to shoot him a furious glare behind his goggles, his cheeks still reddened.

Sanji hears a faint sound of their host captain from a distance talking to his crew while approaching the ship. He sounded excited for a change as they're finally lifting off to Skypiea. When Law hopped up onboard, he froze at the sight of seeing the Pirate King practically naked in his seat and the commander holding onto the broken steering wheel.

Law

What the hell is this? Why are you tearing apart my bubble ship?

I don't even know what's going on with you, Mr. Prince-ya.

Niji

I can explain–!

Zoro and Sanji 

Niji broke the ship.

Law practically had smoke coming out of his ears. He rolls up his sleeves.

—

Sanji

That's not… where I thought that was going to go….

Niji

Really now?

Zoro, Sanji and Niji all had bumps on their heads from the fuming captain. They all stood in pain behind Law who is making a final speech to the Heart Pirates crew before separating from them until they return from Skypiea. He wanted to make sure that everyone is fully aware of their plan to meet back near Jaya, and told them to stay under the radar by not staying in one place too long. They're to keep a constant eye on their long distant transponder snail in case there are any emergencies.

Niji had repaired the damage he’d done and replaced the disfigured steering wheel for a makeshift one. He still managed to do the maneuver upgrade that he wanted right on schedule so Law's punishment on him wasn't as harsh.

Sanji soothes his painful bump with a hand, wondering if he should have done his act of revenge another day. At least he has clothes now and his claw gauntlet fitted properly with its blades retracted.

Zoro had no idea what exactly just happened but given how much he'd been getting punished by Law recently, he just accepted his fate.

They sail the Polar Tang until it reaches a good distance away from Jaya to avoid any unwanted attention during take off. Niji launches himself in the air to scout ahead, hoping to travel high enough to potentially find the floating island by eye and watch out for any unwelcoming shifts in weather. They're to keep tabs with him through transponder snails. Bepo reported that there may be a storm later in the day but if they reach the sky island before late afternoon, they should be safe.

Zoro, Sanji and Law follow by bubble ship shortly, waving farewell to the rest of the Heart Pirates from inside as they lift off. The blonde volunteered to pilot as he claimed to have done it before. This proved evident when he started up the engines, inflated the float bubble and launched the vessel without a fuss. Before they know it, they reach their desired altitude just under the stratosphere where they reconvened with the commander as planned.

Zoro and Law watched the two siblings, surprised at how quickly their dynamic switched as they expertly navigated the skies together. Past all their snide jabbing and teasing, Sanji and Niji operated like two veteran mercenaries who clearly had years of experience in their arsenal. Niji flew ahead and continuously sent advice through his den-den mushi, and Sanji made executive decisions based on his brother's reports and piloted the ship expertly. They managed to avoid troublesome cloud formations without a navigator, thanks to their collaborative teamwork.

Law

How do you know how to fly so well, Mr. Prince-ya?

Sanji

Err…I'm the only one who doesn't fly in the family so I tend to take a bubble ship for myself when I need to.

Niji interrupts through the transponder snail.

Niji 

Correction–he chooses not to. He can, if he just wears his–

Sanji

Commander, we talked about this.

Niji

Tch.

Zoro was looking at Sanji curiously, clearly wanting to hear more about the whole subject of flying but the blonde wants to avoid the uncomfortable topic so he quickly shifts the conversation. He clears his throat.

Sanji

Marimo-kun, can you please remind us what we're on a lookout for?

Zoro

We're trying to find South Birds or one of its variants. They're native to Skypiea and a lot bigger up here. They should help us find the island.

Otherwise we should see thick solid clouds with houses or a jungle on them. It's pretty big so it's hard to miss.

Sanji

Did you get that, Commander?

Niji

Got it.

There is a painful stretch of silence as the ship floats aimlessly in the sky. This part of the troposphere should be thinning out of clouds but today seems to be an odd exception as it's more fogged up than usual. Zoro notices Sanji gradually getting worried after an hour with no news. He starts impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while his feet twitch restlessly, his hand almost reaching out for the den-den mushi several times but ultimately acts against it.

Zoro

Hey…is everything okay?

Sanji

Y–yeah…. I just… don't worry about it.

Law

If you’re that concerned, we should call him.

Sanji

Maybe…. Give him more time. He might be in the middle of something.

After several more tense minutes, they hear a long squawk from a distance behind them. Zoro, Sanji and Law turn their heads to find a large bird, more than twice the size of their bubble ship, writhing mid-air. Around its body, a familiar blue-haired man gripped around its neck, trying to force its wings closed with his legs. He carries it with difficulty towards the bubble ship, his boots kicking off pulses in different directions to try and gain some semblance of stability.

Law

What the hell–?

Sanji starts laughing out loud as the bird throws its head wildly in every which way. It relentlessly flaps its wings and kicks its sharp talons out madly, desperate to free itself from the commander's death grip.

Niji stops just in front of the ship while still wrestling with the bird.

Niji

Is this–?? OWW!!!

The commander only just manages to dodge the bird’s attempt to eat his face, but the side of his face gets whacked with its powerful beak with a loud crack.

Niji

IS THIS IT, SWORDSMAN?!?

Zoro

Err…

Zoro looks back and forth between Niji and the giant bird dumbfoundedly, still trying to take in the comical scene before them.

The blonde shuffles through his pack calmly.

Sanji

Does anyone else have a camera?

Niji

Fuck–! Answer already!! Is this a South Bird or what?!

Zoro

Yes…?

Niji

Why do you sound so unsure?!

Zoro

It's been a while, okay?! And I can't see the crest properly! Can’t you hold it still?

Niji

FUCK YOU, YOU BROCCOLI HEAD! You come out here and do it then!

Zoro

It's MARIMO!!!

Sanji

Yonji’s going to love this.

Sanji finally pulls out a photo camera and snaps a couple of shots of the action, cheerfully kicking his legs from his seat in delight.

Sanji

And for the fridge….

He turns his seat around and takes a nice photo of Zoro laughing at Niji. He also manages to catch one of Law who can't help but bear a small entertained smile on his face under the shade of his cap.

Law

Oi! Watch the talons! Back off, Commander or it will pop the bubble!

Niji briefly dips out of sight but manages to recover. Zoro takes his time thinking, his hand massaging his jaw as he digs through his memory banks while watching the commander wrestle the giant bird.

Sanji

You know, I've seen them in a book.

Niji

So what?! Is this it??

Sanji

…It was a black and white print. I don't know if the colour matters.

Niji

Oh, for fuck's sake! Don't give me useless information!

Law

Zoro-ya, just say something already!

Zoro

Curls made a good point…. Was it more blue or more pink…? Is the face really that long? I can't remember.

Law slowly pulls out the feather from his pocket that Corazon had left behind for him, very carefully taking his time to avoid damaging it. He holds it up in his hand for everyone to look at.

Sanji

It's a little more pale than the one Niji’s holding.

Law

Maybe it was younger?

Niji

I hate all of you.

Zoro

I think… I think it is a South Bird.

Niji finally releases the furious bird from his grip. He dodges its angry pecks and swooping before it flies away from them. His clothing had suffered huge scratches throughout his body.

Sanji

Great job, Commander! Need a break?

The blue-haired man flops over the side of the ship, half hanging off the edge as he catches his breath.

Sanji turns the vessel to follow the bird. Thanks to his brother's earlier modifications, they're able to keep up with it without an issue.

After a few moments, Niji pulls himself up to sit on the side of the ship with his feet dangling over the edge, all the while keeping a close eye at the pursuit. He clenches his fist over his chest, still feeling breathless and the altitude isn’t doing him any favours.

Sanji notices the commander’s state and he narrows his eyes at his damaged helmet. A large piece at the front is cracked so badly that it’s just about ready to fall off at any moment.

Zoro offers the blue-haired man his flask of water. Reluctantly, Niji accepts and drinks from it, too tired to say no.

Sanji

I need you to go home, Commander.

Niji

No, I can make it. I promised I'd get you to Skypiea–

Sanji

No, Niji. Not this time.

After another swill, the commander wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and glares at Sanji.

Sanji

We'll be fine, alright?

And…you still have that other mission. You can't dally.

Niji doesn't turn his head but behind his goggles, Zoro notices that he shifts his eyes between him and the blonde. Ultimately, the blue-haired man sighs exasperatedly and throws the half empty flask back to him.

Niji

Fine. But I'm not happy about it.

Sanji gives him a weak smile to try and reassure him.

Sanji

I know.

The blonde turns his attention back towards the South Bird. When he notices that Law gazes away from him as well, Niji takes the opportunity to quickly grab Zoro's arm and shoves something metallic and cold in his robe’s long sleeve, out of everyone else's sight.

The swordsman was initially freaked out but picked up on his discretion. He raises a brow curiously at him.

Niji releases him and gives a thankful nod. He turns his attention back to the blonde.

Niji

Later, Your Highness.

Sanji

Thank you for all your assistance, Commander.

And…get home safe. That's an order.

Niji

Ugh… don't be gross.

He angles himself on the bubble ship, facing the opposite direction where the group is heading. With a kick of his Raid Boots, he sends a strong pulse of force against the surface of the vessel, giving them a rapid boost forward towards the bird. The passengers onboard see him take off into the distance the other way.

Sanji melts in his seat from relief.

Law

What was that other mission, Mr. Prince-ya? …Or is this one of those on the “need-to-know basis” things that you mentioned?

Sanji purses his lips, seriously considering Law's question. After a while, he answers.

Sanji

I sent him to infiltrate Doffy’s ranks…discreetly.

I don't know if I should have done it earlier but…Doffy’s just been too quiet and I don't like it.

Law has a surprised look on his face but decides against arguing about it, detecting the man's genuine concern about the situation and risking his own brother to investigate. In his head, he weighs all the things that the blonde had done to help him during their quest so far. He hated him a little for not following through on any one of his plans, but he can't ignore the fact how effective Sanji has been. He decides to do the unthinkable and put his faith on him.

Law

Do you think there's a possibility that we're in danger?

Sanji

I always think that we’re in danger. How much exactly…is hard to say…. I don't like working blind, doctor. That's why I'm taking the risk. But this means that I have to trust my brother to do the right thing. You've seen him prove himself in the short time he's with us. I hope that's enough to give you comfort.

The doctor eyes the man up and down, considering his words and trying to get a better read on him. He crosses his arms and looks away silently. To him, it sounded like the blonde was trying to convince himself more than anything that he's made the right call.

Zoro felt that cold texture in his sleeve. When he peeks under his robe, he sees a dark canister with the number “3” on it. Confused but thinking it might be important for later, he shifts it somewhere more securely in his haramaki.

—

As they travel, the sky becomes too hazy to see through. After what seemed like hours of obscured vision similar to that of a whiteout during a blizzard, the South Bird descends just as the passengers in the bubble ship start to lose their patience. The fog parts before them and, up ahead, they see a vast sea of clouds stretching far beyond what the eye could see. 

Zoro

THERE! The White Sea!

Sanji

Holy shit.

Law

How is this possible…?

The South Bird that they’ve been following disappears somewhere in the horizon as Skypiea finally comes to their full view. As they near, they see a small settlement that consists of tented dwellings, various totems of cultural significance and a tall structure that looks like a wooden watchtower poking out near the edge of the dense jungle.

Zoro 

Odd…we should have seen someone by now. The last time I was here, someone was collecting tolls.

Sanji

Hmm…what do you think, doctor? Where should we land?

Law lays the map on the console in front of the blonde and points near the edge of the island.

Law

Let's dock at this shoreline near that village. If that's what I think it is, they would have seen us by now from that watchtower. I want to make sure that we’re not intruding on anyone's territory before we can properly introduce ourselves. I don't know what they're like but I'd like to avoid any political dramas if we can help it.

Also, we need to check our fuel before we get too far. We need to have enough to go back with.

Sanji follows his direction, and lands the ship near a sturdy tree, not bothering to deflate the bubble in case they need to take off soon again.

When they disembark, Zoro immediately secures the bubble boat using its mooring line, then sets to work to check on the state of the ship while Law walks off to investigate the nearby houses for any locals. 

—

After a loo break and doing some warm up exercises, Sanji is feeling excited for the new adventure. All his worrying about his brother had overshadowed the fact that he hadn't gone out to properly stretch his legs in a mission for a long time. But now, after seeing a few of the local flora and fauna that he'd never seen before, the blonde is positively enthusiastic for whatever is in store ahead. He approaches the tired-looking captain who is hunched over with the swordsman on the side of the bubble ship, trying to read the map in their possession.

Sanji

Alright, Traffy!

The blonde claps and rubs his hands together in excitement, practically bouncing on his step as he closes in on his companions.

Sanji

I am at your disposal, ready for anything! Just say the word! So what's the plan? I'm assuming you have a well thought through plan? Let's hear it!

Zoro walks to stand behind Sanji with a bright smile on his face, supporting the blonde's statement. He puts his hands on his hips, looking like he's also ready for anything the doctor throws at them.

Law kept still, remaining hunched over the piece of paper, his expression hidden behind the shade of his cap.

Zoro

I uh… feel bad for pretty much wrecking every part of your plans leading up to today so…I'm with Curls. We'll do everything you say. By the book.

Without moving his body, Law turns his head slightly towards them, still hesitating to show his face.

Sanji

Traffy? You okay?

Law

I…

Law finally straightens up to look at his companions eye to eye. He has a morbid look on his face.

Law

I…I don't have any plans.

Zoro and Sanji's jaws drop in disbelief as the doctor rubs the back of his neck shyly. They see his ears redden from embarrassment.

Law

I usually just…wing this part somehow. But I'm stuck without my guys…. I don't actually know how we've come this far….

There was an awkward pause then Sanji suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter and Zoro grins widely at the doctor. Between difficult breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

I was–so, so prepared to do everything right by you!!!

I thought–the doctor is alright–he's great–he saved my life. I need to make up for it–show how much I appreciate him–

He falls to his knees, tears flowing freely from his face. His laughter has become so unhinged that even Zoro's shoulders start twitching from the contagion.

Sanji

And now–now we ask for it and you DON'T have anything?! BWAHAHAHA–!!

Law’s expression darkens just as gradually as Sanji's laughter gets more out of hand. When the doctor finally snaps, Sanji receives well-deserved smacks on his head and the bumps that come with them.

—

After Law tells him that the settlement is weirdly deserted, Zoro suggests that they make their way to Upper Yard, remembering the treaty between Skypiea’s citizens and the tribe of Shandia. They had the joint intention of reclaiming the land that the former God, Enel, once took control of. He thinks that maybe they had all moved there as their new home.

Law supported this as they simply just need more information at this point to see if anyone remembers any Marines or someone of Corazon’s description visiting. He makes an executive decision that they walk to the place, not wanting to miss out on any opportunities that might come their way and use up any more fuel than they already have.

They each carry their own packs and walk towards the general direction where the swordsman pointed to on the map, though Law doesn't have high hopes given the man's directional skills. The bubble ship was left behind after being relocated in the jungle, covered in leaves and other floor debris to keep it out of sight.

Eventually, they come across their first obstacle–a wide river of clouds that separates their side of the land and where they need to be. The moving puffs of cloud before them makes it look like water flowing between solid ground.

Zoro

You can swim in it but from what I remember, there are these things called err… hmm….

Law kicks a pebble into the river. It creates a ripple that spreads right through to the middle, causing a disturbance under the surface. A giant length of scales erupt through the puffs of white then the creature slithers away as quickly as it came.

Sanji

Woah! It's like…what–a Seaking in the sky or something?

Zoro

Sort of. There’s a lot of Sky Fishes. But there’s also Sky Sharks and these giant worms with teeth.

Law

So…no swimming then. That's not a problem.

Zoro

We passed by a big tree with vines. We can swing across–

Law

Don't bother.

The doctor brings up his hand and conjures his Room ability. With a couple of flicks, he teleports Zoro and Sanji to the other side, swapping places with jungle debris in the area. He follows them himself shortly after.

Sanji

Give us a warning next time!

The swordsman and the blonde struggle to stand from the ground, feeling woozy from the sudden vertigo.

They continue their journey forward, stopping often whenever they find an interesting specimen that they each want to look at. They felt like children with short attention spans, getting distracted at everything new everywhere they go. Sanji having a camera also meant more delays whenever he wanted to stop and take pictures. When Law told him to put it away, the blonde snarled and said it was the gift from his Heart Pirates crew. They had made him promise to snap shots of their adventure on their behalf. Law didn't bother him about it since then.

They come across two more gaps to hurdle. Each time, Zoro insists that they swing on a vine but they get teleported before they could say anything about it. Sanji's starting to get sick of being moved from one place to the next so carelessly. After the third time, he finally snaps.

He grabs Law's wrist just as he was about to use his Shambles ability again. The doctor glares at him angrily for the interruption.

Sanji

NO! NO MORE. I'M SICK OF THIS! I almost threw up last time!

Law

What the hell, Mr. Prince-ya?! Get your hands off me!

Sanji pushes Law on the chest childishly.

Sanji

You're taking the fun out of it!!!

Law

The…fun?

Sanji

We're adventuring pirates! We're supposed to go through struggles and find ways to overcome them! Not just…whatever the hell you're doing!

Law

You're complaining about…lack of struggle.

Sanji

You're making it too easy!

Zoro

Traffy, I know I said I'd do everything you say but…I kinda agree with Curly.

Law

…You just want to swing.

Sanji

Let the man swing!

Zoro crosses his arms and nods his head in agreement. Law slaps his forehead in frustration at the whole notion.

Law

It would be faster if–

Zoro and Sanji 

NO!!!

Law

Oh, for the love of–FINE!!! How do you propose we cross–

Flailing his arms forwards, Law gestures at the wide river separating them from the next piece of land. The distance is almost twice as long as the length of the Polar Tang.

Law

This?!

Sanji places his arms on his own hips and smirks.

Sanji

I propose a game.

Law

A game?

Sanji

Something that I like to play with my siblings when we're out on joint ventures. It'll be fun, I promise!

Slightly intrigued, Law crosses his arms and listens intently.

Law

Alright…. Let's hear it.

Happy with Law's willingness to listen, Sanji claps his hands together enthusiastically and begins to make hand gestures as he talks.

Sanji

We each hurdle obstacles however we want BUT we have to make it as cool as possible!

Law

…“As cool as possible”.

Sanji

Yes!

Law rolls his eyes looking unimpressed but the blonde continues.

Sanji

There's three of us, so we'll each take a turn playing judge on who gets from point A to point B the coolest way possible. When we reach our final destination, the one with the most points wins!

I’m talking flair–the badassery–even the underappreciated, underrated skills–the whole thing! It's the time to show off what you got and be creative!!!

There's about a million things Law wants to say about the silly game–how unnecessary it is and how many faults there are in the rules. Before he can say anything, the swordsman interrupts.

Zoro

Do I get to swing?

Sanji gives him a wink.

Sanji

To your heart’s content, baby.

Zoro

Let's do it.

Sanji

YES!

Law

Seriously, Zoro-ya?!

Zoro

It sounds more interesting than… “shambles” all day.

Uhm…no offense.

Law groans but waves his hand in dismissal.

Law

Do whatever you want.

Sanji squeals in excitement.

Sanji

That’s the whole point of it!

Zoro

So what’s the prize?

Sanji plays with his goatee thoughtfully. Then his expression darkens as his lips thin into a devilish smile.

Sanji

How about…a favour?

Zoro furrows his brow at that.

Law tips his head at the idea. He takes a step forward towards the blonde.

Law

Go on…

Sanji

Any time, anywhere in the world, no questions asked. The winner gains the favour from the other two contenders so that he may call on them at a time of his choosing–together or separately.

Zoro

Oh… Curls… I don't know…

The doctor unexpectedly chuckles, his tone just as dark as the blonde’s smile. He holds out a hand, which Sanji takes without hesitation. The swordsman looks between the two of them nervously.

Law

You’re on, Pirate King.

[mineralsrocksandfossiltalks]

Monday's Mineral: Nickel

Nickel is metal that has been known for thousands of years just like gold and silver. Pure nickel has a silvery-white color with a little bit of gold coloring thrown into the mix. It has a shiny, metallic luster (as all metals do) and is opaque. It has a hardness of 4, making it harder than both gold and silver. This means nickel can scratch both of those metals. Another really cool physical property is that nickel is ferromagnetic. This is very important.

Nickel is much more common than either gold or silver. It can be found in its pure elemental form or in mineral ores. Nickel ores include laterite, a type of soil deposit that changes composition depending on what minerals are present. They are typically rich in iron and aluminum which results in a rusty red color as the iron oxidizes. Laterite is formed in hot, wet, tropical areas.

Laterite deposits were the main source of nickel ores but that changed when nickel was found in sulfide deposits. Laterites that contain nickel are limonite (Fe, Ni)O(OH),

and garnierite (Mg,Ni)3Si4O10(OH)2·H2O (approximately, it varies A LOT)

Sulfide ores that contain nickel include pentlandite (Fe,Ni)9S8,

pyrrhotite (Fe9−xNixS8),

millerite (NiS),

and niccolite (NiAs).

Just like gold and silver, nickel has a face-centered cubic structure.

You'll also notice that in many ores, nickel is found alongside another metal: iron. These two metals are like the best of friends. In fact, the two metals are the main components of the Earth's inner and outer cores.

Because these two metals are ferromagnetic, they play a very important role in protecting our planet from dangerous solar energy. The outer core in liquid, and that liquid nickel/iron mixture creates the magnetosphere or the Earth's magnetic field. That magnetic field protects the Earth against solar winds that would strip our atmosphere from us. (Ask Mars, it's not a good deal). Thanks to that magnetosphere, we get some pretty spectacular light shows in the sky if you know where to look too.

Earth is not the only space object to contain a lot of nickel. Meteoric nickel (found with meteoric iron) makes up a vast number or meteorites.

Now, unlike gold and silver, nickel can actually prove to be toxic for us, so please, do not go out and lick or consume nickel products. Your body will not thank you.

Thanks for coming to learn about nickel! Tune in tomorrow for some polar trivia. Fossilize you later!

[inksandpensblog]

Sebastian Solace headcanons, mantis shrimp edition:

he has a carapace covering his back, under the jacket. it rumbles at a very low frequency when he's feeling territorial, though the effect is mostly smothered when he's carrying the weight of the scrambler.

he has meral spots (eyespots) on his arms. these are covered by his jacket and bandages, but when he feels threatened he will instinctively move in ways choreographed to display them in warning.

his "ear fins" are actually malformed antennal scales, which mantis shrimp use to communicate with each other via different movements and polarization of light. they may also have fluorescent spots that glow yellow in deeper, darker water.

the "back" of his tail looks segmented because of armored plating

I try to form headcanons that can be used to explain his anatomy as depicted in-game, limitations of a Roblox model and all. for that reason I wanna say it's possible that, despite his limbs possibly having the chitinous shell of a mantis shrimp, they may not actually have the structure or musculature required for the classic mantis-shrimp-punch, since they're clearly articulated like human arms rather than raptorial mantis-shrimp limbs (even if his lower arm does seem to rest in a raptor-position, it just doesn't bend the directions an actual mantis-shrimp arm would). but if you still want that for him...

he was spliced with a "smashing" mantis-shrimp type. assuming his sheer size doesn't slow him down at all, then not only can he punch with enough speed and force that the pressure change boils the water around the area of impact, but parts of his arms are actually bladed! could be his forearms, his palms, his fingers, whatever. being spliced with a smashing type could also mean that his aim doesn't need to be completely accurate, as the shock of the water-displacement might complete the job anyway even if his strike doesn't make contact.

(this could also be used to inform his behavior, as smashing mantis-shrimp types are foragers who find sedentary prey to hunt.)

he was spliced with a "spearing" mantis-shrimp type rather than a "smashing" type, and he doesn't actually have the speed that one would typically associate with mantis shrimps. but he does have barbs. these are also the ones that like to burrow in softer substrate; so if you want to go the route of his mantis-shrimp traits manifesting more in his behavior than in his appearance, he'd probably be more comfortable with digging or with burying himself in loose easily-shifted stuff.

(this could also be used to explain why he prefers not to leave his shop, or even to explain his shop as a concept, as spearing mantis-shrimp types are ambush predators who prefer to lie in wait for their prey rather than going out and actively searching for any.)

rather than the more commonly-known "spearing" or "smashing" mantis-shrimp types, he was spliced with one of the rarer "hatchet" types.

alternatively he could've been spliced with a "primitive smashing" or "spike smashing" or "hammer" type.

It's been extremely hard to find info on either of these latter two mantis-shrimp types so if any marine biologists have cool facts to add or sources to recommend (or corrections to make, or clarifications to provide, or specifics to emphasize, or) please feel free to chime in.

Unsorted sources will be in cascading reblogs since tumblr literally won't let me put them all in one post. For now though here's a few under the readmore to get started:

[albarrancabrera]

I SEE YOU – 14 ARTISTS IN A DIALOGUE IN COLLABORATION WITH HARPER’S BAZAAR NL @bildhalle Amsterdam Friday, 13 September, 18 - 21h

Special thanks to @mirjamcavegn & @miluskavantlam who have curated this exhibition.

"I SEE YOU" is a reflection on a dialogue that references appreciation and true connection. It’s a direct acknowledgment of the “other”.

We’re honoured to be in this exibition "in dialogue" with one artist that we highly admire: Richard Caldicott @richardcaldicott He’s one of the main representatives of constructed photography. A key set of his work is a series of still lifes created using ordinary plastic containers. 

By playing with the interaction of light and colour, Caldicott no only makes the viewer forget about the quotidian use of these objects, but also emphasizes the qualities of the photographic medium itself, producing objects independent of any antecedent reality.

His innovative approach to photography opened our eyes to the medium's potential for creative expression. This style of work suggests that photography, through its interplay with light, time and chance, can create images that challenge conventional perceptions and interpretations.  . In our "Polarized" series, which is part of our "Opticks" project, we continue using photography to explore the 'structure of reality' and 'the why of things,' echoing Berenice Abbott's vision of photography as “the friendly interpreter of science.” Unlike previous series, this one investigates natural components that are normally invisible, except through experiments that make them visible.

Transparent objects, especially plastics, subtly alter how light passes through them, changes that are invisible to the naked eye. However, when exposed to polarized light and observed through a second polarizer, hidden internal differences reveal vibrant colors and shades of gray. . As Duane Michals states: "Photography deals with appearances, but nothing is ever as it seems."

1: © Albarran Cabrera, Polarized #55452, 2024  2: © Richard Caldicott, Combination Green, 1996 3: © Albarran Cabrera, Polarized #55450, 2024  4: © Richard Caldicott, Untitled #167, 1996