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ddejavvu · 10 months

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this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.

the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.

the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.

He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.

He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.

He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.

It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.

His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.

"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.

Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.

His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.

"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.

"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.

"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.

"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.

"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.

"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.

"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."

"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.

He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.

From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.

Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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vestaignis · 26 days

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Червь плоский желтопятнистый (Thysanozoon havomaculatum) . Морской червь из класса ресничные черви, или турбеллярий. Принадлежит отряду Поликлад. Имеет уплощённое, овальное тело, покрытое ресничным эпителием. Длина этого симпатичного создания около 4 см, а толщина всего пару миллиметров. Передний конец его тела несёт пару щупалец. Мускулатура этого плоского червя многослойная, хорошо развитая, благодаря ей он способен подниматься в толщу воды за счёт ундулирующих движений краёв тела, а не только обитать на дне. Этот свободноживущий плоский червь питается преимущественно как хищник, водными беспозвоночными. Встречается в морях вокруг Австралии и Индонезии.

Yellow-spotted flatworm (Thysanozoon havomaculatum). A marine worm from the class of ciliated worms, or turbellarians. Belongs to the Polyclad squad. It has a flattened, oval body covered with ciliated epithelium. The length of this cute creature is about 4 cm, and the thickness is only a couple of millimeters. The front end of its body bears a pair of tentacles. The musculature of this flatworm is multi-layered, well developed, thanks to it it is able to rise into the water column due to undulating movements of the edges of the body, and not just live on the bottom. This free-living flatworm feeds primarily as a predator on aquatic invertebrates. It is found in the seas around Australia and Indonesia.

Источник:https://t.me/+t0G9OYaBjn9kNTBi, //www.webdive.ru/fotocat.php?t=11&id=20542&mode=view, http://mylongdongbay.blogspot.com/2007/07/save-ocean-cherish-marine-lives.html, /ru.pinterest.com/pin/630644754053053958/, http://www.akkiira.com/hiramushi/yoimiyaminohiramusi-swimming.html, //foxford.ru/wiki/biologiya/tip-ploskie-chervi?utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F.

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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hiiiiii🩷 It’s P 😊😊I was just wondering if I could request something a little bit self indulgent 🫠

Just a small thing about Remus comforting r for being anxious about having to start wearing glasses and being a bit embarrassed to wear them 🩷🩷🩷🩷

me from now on : 🤓🤓

have a lovely day 💋💋💋

Hi P! Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 763 words

You’re trying not to squint at the menu behind the barista, but an ache blooms in your temples anyway. You give up, looking away. You and Remus are still a few places back in the line. You’ll read it once you get closer.

“What’re you thinking, dove?”

“Hm?” You glance up at your boyfriend, but he’s staring at the menu.

“What’re you thinking of getting?” he clarifies, his quiet voice barely reaching you over the chatter of conversation and whirring of machinery behind the counter.

“Oh. I’m not sure,” you answer honestly, “what’re you thinking?”

“I’m sort of intrigued by the orange clove latte, but the dark chocolate and mint one sounds good too.”

“Mm, yeah.” You turn back towards the menu, your voice wavering with uncertainty. “Those both look good.”

“Dove.”

“Mhm?” You look at Remus again, and this time he’s looking back.

“Where are your glasses?”

You hesitate a second before patting the side of your bag soundly, feeling the bulge of your glasses case within. “I’ve got them,” you say.

“You don’t want to wear them?” he implores. There’s a funny squint to his eyes, not entirely unlike your own. More teasing. “I doubt you can read the menu from all the way back here, sweetheart. Why don’t you put them on?”

You grimace but don’t argue, digging for them in your bag and sliding them onto the bridge of your nose. The relief is instant, but so is the self-consciousness. You feel as though the difference in your appearance must be glaring. That when people look at you, your glasses must be all they can see.

Remus senses your unease, slipping his hand into yours. He worms his fingers between your own.

“I could tell you were having one of your headaches,” he murmurs, and now the details of his expression are startlingly clear. Every line of it is shaped by a tender, aching fondness. “You get a bit of tension right,” he brings his other hand to your face, running his thumb over the skin just above your brow, “here. It goes away when you put them on.”

It’s both touching and embarrassing to be so thoroughly known. You rest your head on Remus’ bicep, cheeks warming. He doesn’t comment on it.

By the time you get to the front of the line, you both know what you want, and afterwards you step to the side to wait for your drinks.

Remus is watching you, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you ask.

“Sorry, nothing.” He shakes his head. “You just look really cute in your glasses, you know?”

You scoff. A cynical exhale that sounds more like a snort. Remus’ eyebrows go up. “You don’t have to say that,” you tell him.

“I don’t feel like I have to,” he defends himself. “It’s fairly obvious. Don’t you like them?”

You’re somehow even more aware of them than you were five seconds ago, touching your finger to the bridge to push the frames up an extra millimeter. “It’s like having an intruder on my face,” you joke lightly.

Remus chuckles, giving your hand an affectionate squeeze. “You’re just not used to them,” he promises. “As someone who’s seen your face both with and without and loves it very much, I can testify that they don’t interfere with the general effect. You’re still lovely.”

Neither of you can quite look at each other as he says it, though when you lean into his side a bit in thanks, he leans back.

The barista calls out your order, and you both pick up your drinks, claiming a table by the window.

“I’m shackled to iced coffee for the rest of my days,” you grouse, sipping your drink from a straw. “Hot drinks are too inconvenient, with the way they fog up my glasses.”

“You always want iced ones,” Remus points out.

You shrug like well yeah, but that’s not the point, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly. They slip closed as he sips from his own cup. He’d gone with the odder one, orange and clove, and he seems uncertain about the taste, letting it sit on his tongue for a bit.

“Interesting,” he decides. “Want to try?”

You reach for the cup curiously. He passes it to you, and you blow on it out of instinct, immediately penalized when your vision is obscured.

“Ugh.” You pull your face back from the cup, trying to see through your foggy lenses. “So annoying.”

Even through the mist, you can see Remus’ lips curve in a smile. “Adorable.”

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myosotisa · 11 months

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mark of an angel - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

‖ summary: It's hard to convince your tattoo artist boyfriend to allow you to get art done by someone other than him, so this time, you go out of your way to make it a surprise for him.

‖ tags: fluff, like will make you sick to your stomach sweet. reader is described as afab, no pronouns used, nickname is angel (aka the whole fic), established relationship, it gets a little spicy but nothing explicit. it's just really cute and fluffy BYE

‖ word count: 2.6k

Having a tattoo artist for a boyfriend meant it was very, very difficult to mention getting a tattoo and not have him immediately jumping at the bit to do it. Going on and on about how you were the perfect canvas, how much he wanted to exaggerate the beauty already there with whatever art you wanted. Normally it wasn’t an issue – Eddie was an amazing artist with enough practical knowledge to do any style you asked for, even if it wasn’t his preferred method.

It had always gone the same way. You’d mention an idea, maybe even an artist you wanted to get it from, he’d encourage you but also mention he could do the same thing for cheaper (“Just for my angel.”). He’d be able to change every millimeter of it to your liking and touch it up in the comfort of your own home. Between his soft, deep convincing and his wandering hands, you almost always gave in.

Which is why, this time, you didn’t even mention the idea to him. Didn’t even mention that you had an idea or that you had an appointment. In fact, you might’ve actually lied about what you were going to do today. You couldn’t remember if it had even come up. But now you were sporting a fresh sheet of Saniderm above a delicate piece of script on your right hip, hidden beneath the dress you’d worn for the day, and walking into the apartment you shared with Eddie like everything was normal.

“Honey, I’m home!” You call into the door as you open it, not even bothering to check if his keys were on the hook. If he wasn’t back yet, then you’d just get to hear him say the same thing whenever he did get home. But his keys are on the hook and you get further confirmation of his presence by the echo of your call.

“My wife has returned from the war!” Is the dramatic reply that comes from the vague direction of the kitchen, causing an amused snort to leave your nose. “God, I hope she still has all her limbs!”

Toeing your shoes off by the door, you follow the siren song of your humming boyfriend until you catch sight of him. His long, messy waves are spun up into a bun on the back of his head, a few wayward strands tucked behind his ears. His head is tipped forward so he can keep a close eye on the concoction simmering on the stove, his shoulders rolled forward as he focuses on it like if he looks away for even a moment it will either catch on fire or grow legs and run off. His black tank top is well worn and loose, his black-ink covered arms leaning on the counter on either side of the stove. Navy blue sleep pants hang low on his hips that continue for an unbelievably long time on his lanky legs before they pool around his bare feet on the tile. The cherry on top is the bright yellow tartan apron tied around his waist.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press the side of your cheek into his shoulders. “Not your wife,” you remind him cheekily, before your voice drops into a teasing murmur. “And would you still love me even if I hadn't returned with all my limbs?”

“Not my wife yet,” he emphasizes, way too casually for the speed with which it makes your chest burst into excited butterflies. “Second,” he clears his throat in preparation before launching into a high-pitched whine, “would you still love me if I was a worm?” A laugh sputters out of you, turning your head to try to hide it in his back. His voice returns to normal as he shifts, one of his arms draping across yours. “Of course I would still love you if you lost a limb. Actually, have you ever thought about losing an eye? I think you would look really hot with an eye patch.”

You peek around so he can see the obvious pout you give him. “I thought you liked my eyes.”

He turns on you in an instant, dislodging your arms in his haste and nearly sending you both off balance. His hands grip your biceps while his big, wet, brown eyes double in size. “I fucking love your eyes, angel.” He says, as if he can’t believe he had made such a mistake. You can’t help but melt – shrinking inches as you relax in his hold. His face softens an equal amount as his lips part in a smile as sweet as honey. “Like little windows into your soul.” A hand leaves your shoulder to cup your jaw, a calloused thumb smoothing across your cheek as thick lashes brush his own in a slow blink. “I just, y’know,” the smile grows goofy, one shoulder tipping up in a shrug, “I think you’d be a hot pirate is all.”

“Tell you what, hot shot,” the nickname matched with his gaze catching down to your smile causes the tips of his ears to immediately flush pink, to your delight, “You get us a sea faring vessel and learn how to cook without catching shit on fire, then we can talk about getting me an eye patch.”

His jaw drops in obvious offense at the cooking comment. “I can abso– Y’know what just for that, you can’t have any of the– Wait, fuck,” he spins back to the stove, immediately digging into the pot with a wooden spoon to scrape the bottom and make sure it’s not burning. You can’t help but giggle at the irony; him defending his cooking while you distract him enough to potentially mess up said cooking. A glare is leveled over his shoulder, kicking his heel back into your shin to knock you away. “This is fucking sabotage,” his voice is full of false disdain that fades quickly, “I come home – after a hard days work – slaving over a hot stove, being a goddamn domestic goddess – and you dare question my authority.”

“And what authority is that, exactly?” You taunt back, walking backwards away from him. “The authority on finding a way to burn Easy Mac?”

“You little!” He lunges toward you but you move out of the way too quickly, dodging out of his grasp and rocketing down the hallway, giggling all the way. “This isn’t over!”

You push into your shared bedroom and swing the door mostly shut behind you, stripping your dress over your head and throwing it into the hamper beside your dresser. Approaching the full length mirror in the room, you lift the hem of your undershorts to expose the entirety of the Saniderm to the open air. Still irritated around the edges and leaking a bit of ink, is a delicate script of the word ‘angel’, the nickname Eddie has called you since the two of you started dating several years ago.

He’d been calling you angel for a few weeks when you finally got around to asking. “Can I ask why you call me that? I don’t think I really give off an angel vibe.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of an innocent, virginal, white-lingerie angel, then no, you don’t.” You glared at him and he looked endlessly amused by it. “I’m thinking more of the biblical, vengeful, warrior-type angel. Beautiful and smart and will righteously kick your ass.”

“Oh yeah? So you admit I could kick your ass?” You asked, trying to avoid the flattery.

“Fuck yeah,” he choked out in a laugh, like he couldn’t believe you were surprised. “I mean, I would put up a little bit of a fight... But only enough to make it not look like I was letting you because I’m into that.”

“Eddie!” You cried out, laughing through your embarrassment as he threw you a wink and cackled out into the night air.

Now you had the term of endearment permanently etched on your body and you were quite happy with it. Even if, god forbid, you and Eddie broke up, you would still be able to look at it and remember that you were beautiful, smart, and strong. A biblical angel of righteous fury. It made you feel powerful. Divinely feminine.

After taking a few moments to admire your new art, you set back to your task of changing into some comfortable clothes before dinner. Making sure to put on a pair of shorts that were the perfect length to hide the actual tattoo but still have the Saniderm peeking out the bottom as a tease. You layered a big t-shirt over them, pulling on a pair of thick comfy socks to counteract the chilly floors of your apartment, and taking off any of your accessories from the day. Satisfied, you padded back out into the kitchen just as Eddie was putting the finishing touches on your alfredo dinner.

“What would you like to drink with our gourmet meal, madam chef?” You ask while brushing past his back to get at the fridge, preemptively grabbing a beer for him and a wine cooler for you just as he confirms that he does indeed want the beer in your hand. “Do you already have plates and shit or should I grab some?”

“All good, angel, just go sit your pretty ass down on the couch and I will serve you like the queen you are.”

You’re rolling your eyes as you walk away from him and set both of your drinks on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You’re absolutely incorrigible, anyone ever told you that?”

“Only every day,” he confirms with a grin, walking your direction with two steaming bowls and silverware in either hand. He still has his silly little apron over his pajamas and you can’t fight the sickly sweet smile from tilting your mouth as he sets them down in your usual spots on the table before joining you on the couch. “Hello, love.” He murmurs with a purr, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before reaching to twist open his beer. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good, got done everything I had planned to do.” He raises his bottle in silent cheers to congratulate you before taking a long sip. “How about you, handsome? How was your day?”

Even after all this time, something as simple as calling him handsome still seems to make him trip up. It makes you incredibly weak for him. “Not, uh, not so bad. Messed up my back a bit bending over to tattoo a client today. Didn’t remember my posture lessons.”

“For shame,” you admonish, taking a sip of your own drink as you both face each other on the couch, already almost completely forgetting about your dinner. “Maybe I should withhold a shoulder massage from you, make sure you learn your lesson.”

"You wouldn't dare," he gasps, to which you give a noncommittal shrug. He flops back against the cushions dramatically, moaning loudly. “This is abuse! Abuse, I say!”

You’re quick to set your drink down and lay down on top of him, your braless chest pressing down against his tank top. His hands lower to grip your hips, his eyebrows raising as the tip of his tongue comes out to wet his lips. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” You bat your eyelashes down at him, putting on your best ‘fuck me’ eyes as you rest your hands on his shoulders.

Without warning, he wraps an arm around your waist and uses the grip to flip you, sending you to the cushions with a yelp as he settles on top, the wild pieces of hair falling free from his bun and hanging down between you both. “I’m sure we can think of something,” he says directly into your ear, dipping down to the skin just below to press his lips to it.

“Eddie?” You place your hands up on his shoulders, your voice betraying his effect on you as it wavers. “Our dinner is going to get cold.”

He hums, nose dragging along the side of your neck as he nudges his way down to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I think I found something else I would much rather eat.”

You’re about to admonish him further, explain that he might not be hungry but you are, when the hand that isn’t holding him up skates down your right thigh towards your shorts and brushes the edge of the Saniderm. It takes him a few moments to register what he just touched and the entire time you’re holding your breath. When he finally pushes himself up off of you to lean back on his knees, his eyebrows are drawn together in concern, eyes trained on the plastic stuck to your skin. “Is that…?”

“Yup,” you answer, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” He echoes, fingers twitching like he wants to grab at you again. “Am I allowed to see?”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you fist your hand into his collar to pull him down into a kiss to calm your nerves. He hesitantly returns the affection until you release him and lay back down along the cushions with a satisfied smile. “Go for it, handsome.”

To your surprise, his hands are a bit shaky as he reaches down to push back the hem of your shorts. For his work, he learned how to combat anything that could have made his hands shake, so you’re worried you’ve pushed him too far with this surprise. As he gently lifts the hem, you straighten out your leg, giving him a full view of the newest art etched into your skin.

His eyes almost double in size as he takes in the script, his lips parting in what looks like awe as he ghosts his thumb over the plastic covering between him and your skin. He glances back and forth between the new art and your face for a period of time long enough to make you even more nervous, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “So? What do you think?”

It seems to make him realize he hasn’t said anything yet. “You got ‘angel’ because…?” His hand turns out in a question as he swallows heavily, glancing back at your face for support.

“I’m your angel,” you offer softly, now a bit unsure. “Right?”

His parted lips stretch into a bright grin that could truly be from the heavens themselves. “My angel,” he repeats back to you, sounding absolutely astounded. “How on Earth did I get so fucking lucky?”

The smile that returns to you is wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “By being you, Eddie Munson. Just by being you.”

His mouth bends, lips pressing together, he looks like he’s trying to battle off tears. “That’s it, final straw, I’m marrying your sweet ass tomorrow, I can’t wait anymore, it’s over, you’ve killed me.” He ducks down and rubs his face into your stomach, tickling you as you break out into giggles.

“Eddie, stop, that tickles!”

“Nope!” He answers cheerfully, tilting his head back to rest his chin on your belly button. “I’m gonna cover you in kisses, then I’m gonna eat you out until you can’t remember your own name, and then tomorrow we’re gonna go to the courthouse and I’m gonna give you my name instead. Sound like a deal, angel?”

And with the absolute joy in his eyes, the sparkle of life and mischief, you forget all the reasons the two of you had decided to wait. None of them matter when you want nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with your best friend.

“Deal.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #myos ideas #myo4munson

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wanderingokali · 3 months

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Eyed worms

Eyed worms are a large and diverse group of invertebrates in Okali. Ranging in size from a couple millimeters to one or two meters, these creatures are often brightly colored. They are segmented, with the number of sections varying between species, though the most common is 9. Each segment, except the last one, has four eyes, two on each side. They do not form very clear pictures, but are good at detecting fast movements. They have the ability to secrete a sort of black silk from their saliva, which they use to construct nests out of foraged materials, or cover their egg masses.

Most species are ground-dwelling or diggers, but they occupy a wide range of habitats, some are arboreal, for example!

Around their mouth, to manipulate objects or their silk, they have a set of agile pincers ending in a little claw. This claw is the one hard part of their body, which can be found and collected after the death of the animal.

Being made of enamel, it is very hard, and often sought after for various uses, such as jewelry or pens!

#okali #fantasy #wandering okali #species #art #graphi's things #worldbuilding #speculative biology #specbio #xenobiology #creature design

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fuckyeahfluiddynamics · 5 months

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Jamming Inside

Worm-like Spirostomum ambiguum are millimeter-sized single-cell organisms that live in brackish waters. In milliseconds, these cells can retract to half their original length, generating g-forces greater than a Formula One driver experiences when cornering. How, researchers wondered, do these cells avoid shredding their internal structure with forces that strong? (Image and research credit: R. Chang and M. Prakash; via APS Physics) Read the full article

#biology #fluid dynamics #jamming #microorganisms #physics #science

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beedreamscape · 7 months

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When Augustine is being genuine, he calls her Joy. Always Joy.

All the bitting, the fighting, the snipping.

Joy.

Somewhere in the ether Cristabel and Alfred are tangled up, looking down at their myriad long play, hearing the rumors of who they were what they could've done to save him save her, if they were given five minutes, five words, five days... it's a broken record.

They were both beyond salvation, nobody likes a peace maker.

And yet, at the end of it, he calls her Joy and his mouth is dripping with honey and his chest painted with the desecrated remains of her heart.

And she calls him Augustine, all nine letters, and again very softly, pleadingly. Mean souled little man, that person, miserable ass, man-shaped worm, chattering imbecile, vile condescending son of a bitch. Augustine, Augustine, you promised.

He knows her like he knows his own soul like she knows the sternum, he knows her violence like the taste of blood in his mouth, knows her taste like the taste of in-season melons, like the taste of lives past.

She's quick enough in the draw to know every nasty little inch of the Saint of Patience's body down to the millimeter down to the composition of his genetic code down to the taste of his skin.

There's no practical application in that.

She needs not to wrap her arms around him to perceive the marrow of his bones. She needs not to see him to know it's his lungs and his lips and his breath...

He smells like nicotine. Yuck. Pfaugh. She will stain her hands so his remain clean.

My girl, my child, my chick, my dove.

My Joy.

I'm profoundly tired of looking at your face, sick of stirring in the storm of your eyes, I'll eat Cristabel's rotten soul at the red table of your rotten-peach heart instead, I'll call your ribcage my tomb, the pillows of your lungs my grave.

May I burn in your pyre, may our ashes be mingled and fuel a lonely star in the furthest loneliest part of the universe where none can bother our slumber.

Corrosive effervescence, poisonous delight, drunken familiarity.

Shush, my kiwi, my pipsqueak, my bleeding-heart dove, let us rest easy now.

Joy will show you what fervid decided devoted passion looks like - one last crack of this frail wishbone - Mercy will teach you a lesson in forgiveness.

#Or M- and A-. Mercymorn and Augustine. Patience and Joy. are so in love with each other they can't even be in the same room #mercistine #mercymorn x augustine #dios apate #mercymorn the first #augustine the first #the locked tomb #htn spoilers #flash fic #writing #nonsense also

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bethanythebogwitch · 11 months

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There's been a distinct lack of invertebrates on my Wet Beast Wednesday posts so let's fix that by adding sea spiders. These arthropods are notable for being probably the creepiest things i've features on this series. Like I'm not afraid of actual spiders at all, but these things give me the heebie-jeebies. And I'm exactly the kind of person who loves to spread the things that creep me out, so let's combine thalassophobia with arachnophobia for the worst of both worlds! The first thing to know about sea spiders is that the name is a lie. They aren't spiders but instead members of their own class: Pycnogonida, meaning that a more accurate name is to call them pycogonids. Another alternate clade name is Pantopoda, which means "all legs", a pretty accurate description. They are traditionally classified as chelicerates, putting them in the same subphylum of life as proper spiders. However, this may change as a few genetic studies (Regier, et al., 2010 and Sharma et al., 2014) instead place them as a sister group to all other extant arthropods. Sea spiders occupy every part of the ocean with around 1,300 documented species.

(Image: a collage of many sea spider species, courtesy of ye olde Wikipedia)

The first thing you'll likely notice about sea spiders is that their legs are much larger than their bodies. In fact, the body is so reduced that many of the internal organs have to extend into the legs because they otherwise wouldn't fit. Sea spiders have a wide range of sizes, with the smallest having a legspan of 1 millimeter and the largest having a legspan of 70 cm (2.3 ft). That is larger than my sister's dog. Most species are pretty small, with the very large specimens being the result of polar or deep-sea gigantism. Most species have 4 pairs of walking legs, but some have 5 or 6 instead. The body consists of 2 segments: a cephalothorax subdivided into a cephalon (head) and trunk, and a very tiny abdomen. The cephalon contains the first pair of legs as well as a smaller pair of legs called ovigers that are used to handle their eggs, for grooming, and courtship. Every sea spider has a proboscis on the cephalon that is their feeding appendage. Depending on species, they may also have a pair of palps and/or chelifores, smaller appendages used to manipulate food. Some species lack both the palp and chelifore and their proboscis is instead flexible and muscular. Many species have a structure on the cephalon called the ocular tubercle which contains the eyes, but some deep-sea species have lost their eyes entirely. The trunk contains the remaining legs. Finally, the abdomen is extremely reduced and almost completely vestigial.

(Image: a diagram of sea spider anatomy)

Sea spiders are carnivores, using their proboscises to pierce soft-bodied invertebrates such as cnidarians, sponges, and some worms. They have no respiratory organs. Instead, dissolved oxygen diffuses into the body through the legs. A small and long heart beats at 90 to 180 beats per minute, circulating hemolymph (bug blood) through the central body and giving them a high blood pressure. Oxygen in the legs is transported through repetitive motion called peristalsis in the parts of the digestive tract that extends into the legs. Sea spiders can move both by walking and swimming, which they achieve by beating their legs in a motion similar to opening and closing an umbrella.

(image: a sea spider riding a jellyfish)

Birds do it, bees do it, and weird underwater spider-beasts do it. With the exception of one known hermaphroditic species, all spiders are dioecious, which is a fancy way of saying they have distinct males and females. During mating, the male will climb on the female and they arrange themselves until their reproductive gonopores (which are eon the legs of course) line up. The female them releases her eggs, which the male fertilizes and catches with his ovigers. The male carries the eggs until the larvae are born, with the female providing no further care. Larvae are very simple, consisting of a head with the only appendages being the ovigers, palps, and chelicerae. The trunk, abdomen, and legs develop as the larva grows. Instead of growing the legs all at once, they will grow in during sequential molts. Some have suggested that the development of the larvae parallels the evolution of the ancestor of arthropods, starting out very simple and gradually evolving more complex structures. Scientists have observed 4 types of larvae: the typical protonymph, atypical protonymph, encysting, and attaching. Typical protonymph larvae are the most common and become free-swimming after hatching. Atypical protonymphs are similar, but will eventually find another animal to live on or in. Encysting larvae will find a polyp colony and burrow in. It then encases itself in a cyst and will not leave until developing into a juvenile. Attaching larvae remain attached to their father's oviger until developing into juveniles.

(Image: a male carrying his eggs)

(Image: a larva)

#wet beast wednesday #marine biology #biology #zoology #ecology #animals #invertebrate #arthropod #sea spider #animal facts

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wizardsymmetry · 5 months

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i've had brain worms about this au for weeks sorry if someone's already said it i truly cant remember seeing anything about it but:

cletho. gorgon!cleo and living-statue/weeping-angel!etho. HEAR ME OUT ‼️

cleo stumbles upon their ruins when they're a younger gorgon and she finds a few statues already there. a few are generic statues of nobles, some are works of art, but none compare to the masked angel. he stands, imposing over all the others in a pose with his sword to the sky. he looks the most detailed and lifelike of all, a true wonder. cleo stares at him for hours at a time, memorizes his every chip and swoop. what they don't know is, when they settle down for the night, their valiant angel awakens, feeling no eyes on him, and studies her as well. protects her from the monsters who would attempt to enter the ruins cleo has claimed, studies her facial features, is mesmerized by their hair. how long before cleo notices her lovely winged soldier isn't always in the same position down to the millimeter, or before our rogue man slips up?

#SORRY ITS SO LONG IM ACTUALLY ILL #cletho #zombiecleo #ethoslab #trafficblr #hermitblr #faiswriting #text #ctsau

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siriuslysirius05 · 6 months

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Top Gun as Quotes in my Quotebook

Featuring 100% real things people have said to or around me.

Maverick: “I have a doctorate in dumbassery”

Iceman: “I would like you better if you were a worm.”

Goose: “Probably legal. Probably…”

Slider: “Jesus you want some pussay juice?”

Viper: “This is not a daycare.”

Wolfman: “I have just one question…is this Charmin?”

Hollywood: “He’s like a prostitute”

Chipper: [deadpan] “I’m going to fly away.”

Sundown: “That’s against the copying convention of 1863.”

Carole: [to a grown-ass man] “Babygirl, this is gross.”

Rooster: “Teague (Bradley) has always had a little boogie in him.”

Hangman: “You know, if you move any slower, I think you’ll start going backwards.”

Phoenix: “Let’s give this c*nt a deadly weapon!”

Bob: “Y’all fuck with webkins?”

Coyote: “Can’t get hungover if you never stop drinking.”

Fanboy: “I identify as having no fingers.”

Payback: “We will arrive in…two hours and 85 minutes.”

Halo: “Just your friendly neighborhood atheist.”

Fritz: “I don’t wanna suck your one millimeter Peter.”

Omaha: “It was all those years of saying sorry. They were saying pre-sorry for what they were planning to do to us.”

Yale: [to harvard] “What’s a dickery?”

Harvard: [to yale] “A degree…?”

Hondo: “I’ve pirated games I can do it.”

Cyclone: “it’s better to prevent than to regret.”

Warlock: “They have a chicken teriyaki bowl…I’m kinda attracted to that.”

Penny: “I am terrible at getting mugged.”

#top gun maverick #top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #quotes #incorrect quotes

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italianhomosexuality · 2 months

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rant to me (i like the sound, i like your voice) on ao3

“Nico! You're finally here!”

The ever too-chipper voice took Nico out of his thoughts. He had plans that consisted of brooding and staring, but it seems like Will Solace didn't think that behavior is appropriate for a party.

If whatever it is that's happening can even be considered a party; the Apollo cabin and some other campers decided to get together near the lake, with some soda cans, Doritos bags, and sour gummy worms. There's some music playing and chatter going around, but Nico's foam earplugs do a great job at keeping the volume low enough so that it's not overwhelming. He plays with his fingers, practicing the alphabet in sign language. Tatiana, a daughter of Nemesis, was hard of hearing. Nico became close to her since both of them would usually sit in the shadows, a few feet away from the crowds. It was easy to be around her, and he was making an effort to learn sign.

Will's voice was a little muffled by the earplugs, but taking them out would be much worse. Nico just gestured towards him, pointing in a general direction that is a little further from the noise and confusion. Will understood, because of course he did. They walked a few steps in silence, and Nico didn't bother correcting Will that he'd been here for a few good minutes now, he just didn't want to interrupt Will's conversation with Connor.

He wasn't wearing his usual orange shirt; the blue fabric suits his eyes and looks nice under the moonlight. Nico knew he's clad in cargo shorts and flip-flops without even having to look down—that's what he wears all the time, even when Nico thinks about him before going to sleep, when he thinks of the two of them under the soft orange of a sunset, sharing McDonald's fries, maybe making jokes, hands just one or two millimeters away from each other, itching to touch, aching to be intertwined…

He couldn't afford to think about that right now.

As they reached a tree, Nico offered Will a sweet smile. They were far from the crowd, watching from a distance so that they could hold a conversation even with the earplugs. It's the little things Will does; the accommodations, the giving, the gifting, the understanding, the treating him as an equal that makes Nico have some thoughts that he'd rather keep to himself.

(“Nico, I've noticed you wince and flinch when it gets too loud. What do you think of trying some earplugs? They might help. I wear them sometimes.”)

(“Nico, can you come body double me? I need to clean the infirmary and I can't do it if I'm just there by myself.”)

(“Nico, I have bad days too.”)

(“Nico, would you mind hanging around for just a little longer? I had to treat a head injury today. I don't think I'll ever get over it.”)

“Have you been having fun?” Nico asked, feeling the deep rumble of his voice in his chest. He only now noticed how Will's eyelids and cheekbones seemed to sparkle and glimmer under the moonlight. Lou Ellen must have been experimenting with makeup again.

“Yes! It's been good.” Will raised his voice just enough so Nico could still hear him through the earplugs. It's the little things, Nico's brain supplied.

“How was your day?”

After a lot of practicing with other campers, Nico realized that he enjoyed asking questions. They were an easy way of navigating a conversation and he had a premade list of questions to use in any social setting. For the most part, he asked and listened, keeping only a few bits of information, glancing at the other person's forehead and nose bridge occasionally to mimic eye contact. With Will, however, he didn't have to overthink. He'd ask, but because he actually wanted to know. He'd look at the ground while paying the most attention he's ever paid. He'd fidget and fiddle with his necklace, humming and nodding, while storing every single bit of Will's stories, stitching guides, camp rules, and so much more.

“It wasn't that great, if I'm being honest,” Will said, picking at his fingernails, “but I've been managing. It was just… hard. At the infirmary. Being by myself.”

“You could have asked me for help,” Nico said, swinging back and forth on his ankles. “I didn't do much today. I could have at least been around. Make you feel less lonely.”

Ever since Will started opening up about his mental health and struggles with himself, Nico found it easier to do so, too. Some campers thought of the Head Counselor of the Apollo cabin as this perfect, do-no-wrong, ever-happy, feel-good Care Bear. Will played the part really well, having fooled Nico at the start, but then he understood. He saw the insecurities, the blood—Will's own—pooling and drying around his fingernails, the teeth marks on the bottom lip, the nervous ticks that would come out after an especially long day. Sometimes, though their wounds were far from equal, Nico felt as if he was looking into a mirror. Maybe not a mirror, but a murky reflection on a lake. A resemblance, something similar enough to his own, but with different shapes and jagged edges.

So, as Will listed his fears and how he wished so, so badly he could be someone else, Nico felt comfortable enough, for the first time in his life, to revisit his self-hatred and coax it out for a walk. Will took it and acknowledged it, but didn't yell at it or scare it away. It was almost as if he said, “Hey, I have that, too,” and Nico finally understood the many meanings of the word gratitude.

Nico never thought he'd be able to help someone feel less lonely. He'd also never thought he'd withstand a party—a get-together—just to catch a glimpse of blonde, defined curls and butterfly-blue eyes.

It's the little things.

“I know what you will say, but…” Will caught himself, stopping mid-sentence. “I didn't want to be a bother. A hypocrite, I know, but this happens sometimes. I'll try to not let it happen again.”

“Good.” Nico smiled, feeling the warmth from inside.

It was warm enough that he'd ditched the aviator jacket, but he still kept the jeans. The breeze coming from the lake was a nice touch to the night. He looked down, finding a spot dry enough for both of them to sit, and reached out to tug at Will's hand.

He couldn't pinpoint when he had gotten so… used to physical contact. When he had started to initiate it, even. But then again, he couldn't pinpoint when Will had become Will.

Will took the hint and sat down right beside Nico, scooting closer to him so that the skin on his calf touched the black denim. It was a common position to them. Comfortable. Nico's back didn't hurt as much and he didn't feel pressured to maintain eye contact. Will got to relax his posture and relax his legs from standing all day.

“Do you want to talk about what happened today?” Nico initiated, fingers tapping on his knee. “About what made you not have such a great day.”

No one had ever ranted to Nico. They were always afraid he wouldn't care or that they would be putting too much on him, as if he were a thin, fragile table, built to break at any point. Will didn't.

So Will said, “Yeah, I think that will help,” and started.

Nico listened.

He made sure to store every tidbit of information in his Will Solace-shaped mental drawer. He would remember, in the future, that the infirmary had a shortage of darker-colored band-aids, and he would point it out next time he and Will went supply shopping. He would remember, in the future, that Kayla had offered Will coffee with hazelnut creamer and he drank it all so as to not dismiss her, but he actually hated that flavor.

(Nico already knew that. If he wasn't having his coffee black, french vanilla was the go-to.)

He would remember how Will's fingers flexed as he told Nico how he had to patch up this new camper, almost as if he was going through the motions again. He would remember how Cecil's comment about his off-tune singing while washing his hands post-procedure made Will's heart sting, though he was used to the mockery, but it just hadn't been a good day. He would remember that Will hadn't slept well that day because the sheets had been recently washed and someone had used fabric softener on them, causing the texture to be plastic-like and that it made Will's skin itch. He would remember, and he would fight against every part of his brain that forced him to forget.

Once Will deemed his rant finished, Nico finally looked at him. He looked… pretty. The golden hue that came from the sun was perfect for Will's features, but the silver complimented him. It was the missing part. It hit his skin and bounced right back, catching on the glitter on his eyelids, cheekbones, and cupid's bow, making the chapstick on his lips shine a little more, exposing the chipped pink nail polish on his fingernails.

Nico didn't think boys were supposed to be considered pretty, but most common rules made no sense to him, anyway. Will was pretty. Accepting that fact had been complicated enough. He would not put up a fight against his thoughts.

“I like hearing you talk,” Nico confessed, straightforward as always. “The sound of your voice is very calming, like a stream of water. Constant.”

“That was a very sweet compliment, Nico,” Will replied, smiling wide. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

In the background, the party was still happening. Nico could hear laughter, cans being opened, fire crackling, stomping, soft tones and chords. But Will was next to him, seemingly not wanting to go back to the crowd, so he just settled into his makeshift seat a little more.

Maybe, in the future, Nico could ask Will if he liked him back. For now, he'd rather keep making a list of the little things. Little by little, he could have Will. He just needed some time to build up courage. Maybe, in the future, Will would slip out his ideal love confession or first date.

Nico would remember.

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #will solace x nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo #gianna writes #pjo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo & will solace

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 year

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Language Barrier (Yandere male x reader) p9

tw; blood, gore, insects, calorie counting, violence, body horror, general yandere shenanigans

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

I really pulled out the scientific calculator, pencil and paper for this chapter</3 (i mean i actually do stuff like that for all Language Barrier chapters, but this chapter is particularly egregious) but it was fun to fuck around with my research and logical thinking for this series, ironic cause this series is taking place in a nonsensical setting

thanx for reblogs and comments and messages <3 it do be keeping me going

as allwys no proofreadig <3 lower your expectations <3

masterlist

part 1, part 8, Part 10

You woke up to vigorous shaking. You had the faintest hope that everything was just one big night terror and you're being awakened by your spasming muscles.

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. The wind was slapping your face around, it's whistling loudly in your air and your hat is gone.

You tried your best to open your eyes, but the blinding sun hurts them, it feels like you're riding a rollercoaster of sorts.

Chittering...You heard fucking chittering. You pried your eyes open and gripped harder onto 2718's back.

You screamed when you saw the translator whack an insect away with her makeshift weapon, made from the Giant's bone. It nearly punctured the man's left feet if it wasn't for his quick footwork and the woman's brutal strikes. Your hair fluttered in the air, occasionally obscuring your vision.

You're unsure how fast 2718 is moving, but you're sure as hell that it isn't humanely possible to achieve. The translator is catching up, that means she's running at similar speeds. It made sense to you that she could do it, she's part cyborg after all. But 2718...

Your companion wrapped his arms tighter around you as he zipped past the worms shooting out from the ground, the translator is helping him clear the path around the two of you.

You noticed that her shoe has a hole. Blood was soaked around it, but her toes and feet are all intact. Interesting.

The insects didn't seem to target her though, mainly focusing on 2718's legs. This time, he's gracefully dodging them, missing by a mere millimeter.

You held on to dear life, feeling your soul leave your body when you felt those familiar tremors. Shrieking in horror upon seeing another three of them pop up simultaneously.

"Hey, shut up! We can't hear them!" Scolded the translator as she grabbed one using her bare hand. It squirmed in her grip pathetically before succumbing to its' death- by her hydraulic press grip. You pressed your lips together, hoping that you didn't accidentally lead the three of you to a certain death.

You watched her skewer its' carcass on the sharp end of her weapon. There was already two of them lifelessly dripping its' viscera down the ivory baton. Why was she collecting them?

Odd, if they can rely on hearing alone to detect the insects' position, why did 2718 need to open up his third eye?

You swallowed a surprised scream when she hurled one of her cadavers at you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried your best to duck. But before it would collide against your head, 2718 caught it.

You heard loud crunching and you felt his neck muscles moving. You tilted your head a bit to see that he shoved the entire thing into his mouth. His jaw was driving itself up and down to grind its' body to smaller, consumable chunks. Its exoskeleton ruptured and caused black goo to gush out past his lips. Some of it splattered onto you as it dribbled down his chin.

You gagged, having a full view of the translator doing the same thing. It was hard to watch, her mouth isn't as large as 2718's, she had to waste half a body. She wasn't exempt from soiling her clothes with dark sludge. They don't seem to be enjoying the taste either. They must be doing this out of necessity.

Her face scrunched up in disgust as she forced herself to swallow it. You were amazed that she went back to defend the both of you with no delay. Managing to impale another onto her spear.

You looked behind you to see the house rapidly approaching. Too fast, in fact. As much as you want to be home, you also don't want to be body slammed against it. You're not sure if 2718 is supposed to move this fast, at this point!

She hurled another dead insect at him. You sputtered when some of its' guts landed onto your face. 2718 shot you an apologetic look before continuing to munch away.

Suddenly, he pushed your head down and spun around. Your cries of confusion was muffled by his chest. But you understood as soon as you catch a glimpse of wood, the front door to his humble abode, being mere inches away from your eyeballs.

With a devastating crash, 2718 shot through the door. Splinters furiously flung about, shards of metal from its' hinges scraped at both of your skins, and the impact could be felt through him. However, his body absorbed most of it, attenuating the net damage done to your frailer form.

You heard a second clash a split second later, more chips of wood flew in the air and rained onto you. A heavy thud could be felt and heard next to the both of you.

2718 groaned in agony. Despite tasting blood as it spills from his mouth, feeling that his ribcage liquified itself in his chest, being physically unable to bend his legs, the first thing he did after recovering enough to move is to check on you. He hastily tucked his hands under your arms, propping you up directly on top of him. He is still laying flat on his back, on his decimated door.

You're obviously disoriented. You have a pounding headache and your nose is bleeding non-stop. He gently set you back down on his chest, closing his eyes and began chanting. Red stained his pearly whites and droplets of it sprayed all over you.

However, before he could make any significant progress, the translator thrusted another insect into his mouth. His eyes widened as he now tries to strangle her, but she plucked herself away as soon as it was secured in his mouth.

She crawled away, into a relatively safer corner to refuel herself too. She weakly ripped into the vermin and took her time to chew. 2718 is busy angrily gnawing on his share, so she loosened herself on the floor. Shiny mercury that was coating the jagged, translator-shaped hole in the wooden wall can also be found pouring out of her nostrils, eyes and mouth. As well as the area on her abdomen, where a broken glass pane is lodged within her flesh, forming a reflective puddle around her and where ever she touched.

The translator closed her eyes, coughing a couple times because her own... 'blood', went into her lungs. She needed a bit of time. This isn't just a mere nibble on the foot, this is a high speed collision, comparable to that of a major racecar crash.

Steadily, the silver liquids in their respective puddles began to vibrate. Then, slowly, inching themselves towards her. Rippling and ebbing, almost like someone directed a blow dryer against them. As long as she's not interrupted, it should be fine--

She cried out in pain as a boot drove itself into her diaphragm, forcing more of her liquid life out past her lips. The process came to a harsh halt, all unnatural movement ceased to be. She is back in square one.

The translator curled up into a fetal position, groaning, sniffling and whimpering. She glared at the man towering over her, letting his filthy, criminal blood drip onto her. You're unconscious in his arms as he carried you bridal-style.

He sneered at her with his blood stained, insect viscera covered lips.

The translator quivered in extreme pain, shakily cursing him to a horrible fate. Wishing ill will onto him.

2718 responded with his footsteps, growing softer as he head towards the bedroom.

She sobbed, her entire being was filled to the brim with hatred and anger towards the male. The translator clenched her jaw and balled her fist, she has nothing but contempt for 2718.

Meanwhile, 2718 stumbled outside. He used one of the wooden pillars as support. He pulled his boots off and threw it aside.

He rest a foot onto the sand.

Letting the insects come to him as he readied his daggers.

The man closed his two eyes, allowing a third one to open on his forehead.

Heart wrenching whimpers and cries woke you up. It sounded like it comes from the living room. You sniffled, grimacing when you felt something salty at the back of your throat.

You forced yourself up, it was a colossal task, as aches, bruises and cuts littered your entire body. You spotted the blood smears all over the pillow, gingerly tapping your upper lip with your finger, you found that you're still bleeding.

Using the walls and furniture as crutches, you made your way outside at a snail's pace.

You cradled your head, seeing the damage that the translator and 2718 caused to this building. It was severe, the door was blown off its' hinges. It was left in ruins on the floor. Another great hole was blasted through the window and adjacent walls. Inches of sawdust covered everything as if a blizzard has occurred in this very room. Strange, chrome liquid coated many of the wood piles, mostly pooling around the translator.

The translator! You rushed to her, plopping down to your knees. You shook her by the shoulder, trying to get her attention but avoid exacerbating her torment.

"...That bastard kicked me in the guts..." She struggled to open her eyes. "In the middle of healing, no less..." The translator hacked more silver fluids out of her throat.

You asked her what you could do to help.

Her finger feebly protruded out, pointing at something behind you.

You turned around to see her sharpened bone spear, it has one last insect carcass stuck to it.

You hurriedly picked it up, powering through the disgust as you used your fingers to pry its' corpse off the weapon. It was harder than you though, needing to muster all your strength to slide it off. Weirdly enough, its' exoskeleton felt velvety... You weren't expecting a centipede looking creature to feel like a 1970's car seat, you were expecting it to feel smooth. Like a shrimp.

That probably didn't make it easier for the both of them to stomach it.

The translator furrowed her eyebrows, you were taking a while to get her what she needs.

To her surprise, you returned to her with the insect crudely chopped into bite sized pieces. She was grateful though.

You looked away when she popped a sizable chunk into her mouth.

"Thank you..." She exhaled. Closing her eyes and letting herself relax on the floor.

You panicked, asking her if she's dying. You got no response from her.

You shook her again, not wanting to lose your only form of effective communication, no matter how dubious she may seem.

Your hands released her when you saw that her peculiar blood began slithering into her orifices. Even that on her clothes, it beaded out from the soft fabric and slid towards her nostrils.

You eyed her abdomen, there is a shard of glass. It looks like the blood was struggling to push it out.

You decided to help by wrapping your fingers around it, and yanking out of her body in one go. Some mercury sprayed onto you, it was scorching hot! You quickly swiped it away from your skin, you frowned when you see that it burnt your arm.

This made her howl, gurgling on her own metallic blood. She gave you a betrayed look, but upon seeing what you did, her hurt- emotional pain at least, washed away.

She now seem strong enough to stay conscious. All the liquid descended into her throat, she can now speak to you.

You asked what was the deal with these insects.

"Each of them are like... what? 4000 calories? At that speed that we're running in, we need those calories."

You asked how fast were the both of them running.

"About... 220 miles an hour. I know. It sounds impossible and you can't believe that you're alive after all... that." She weakly gestured towards the exit. 2718 is oddly no where to be found.

"We can do just about anything, we just need enough energy." She rested her hand on her stomach. She slowly turned to her side so she could rest on her back.

You asked how long you were asleep for.

"Ten minutes." Her hand stretched out to grab another insect chunk. She chowed down on it as soon as it touches her lips.

Ten minutes!? How far did the three of you travel from the lighthouse before the attack happened?

"Let's see.. six hours at about 2.5 miles per hour... 15 miles. Out of... about 70. That means we ran for the rest of it, all 55 miles."

Then... how many calories did they burn doing that?

"That jerk of yours is probably weighing around 200 pounds... He burnt around 7000 calories in 15 minutes-- not including self regeneration. I'm... 132 pounds, so I must have burnt like 4500-ish calories in that 15 minutes. But I needed another 3000 at least to heal my foot... oh yeah, they ate my foot. So I ate them." She snickered as she reached out to snack on the insect.

So it took 15 minutes... to complete a journey that would have taken 22 hours by walking. Goodness you.

Then, you asked her if she 'pulled these numbers out her ass'.

"No, I got some sensors built in. I'm part terminator, remember?"

Terminator... sounds like a pop culture reference.

You guess it made sense.

You asked if 2718 also has these sensors.

"I don't know." She swallowed her last bite. "I don't like him."

That's a given.

"I hope you'll be okay when I'm out of here. I'll try to check up on you from time to time, though. That is, if I manage to even see you without that asshole clawing my eyes out."

You nodded, also wishing her luck.

Then a question crossed your mind, where does 2718 keep his teleporters? You asked her that and she hummed in response. Not knowing the answer to that.

"At this point, I don't know if he even owned any. He probably conned me, what a prick." She grumbled.

That... could be true. You haven't seen him utilizing it aside from that one trip. Maybe he only gets them from his visitors.

"You got any more of these?" She lifted her meal up. "It's not enough, I need another... 12000 calories to fix my ribs, my failing organs, my fractured skull..." She trailed off. Seemingly too many injuries to list.

You scratched the back of your head. You can't hunt these your own. The kitchen's locked too.

You asked if she could drink the blood that's dripping from your nose. It's not like you can get them back.

"Hard pass. It's not going to give me that energy and it's gross."

You shook your head no, sorry. You don't think you have any more caloric dense food to spare... or any food at all. You then asked her where her backpack is.

As if on cue, her backpack slammed against her upper torso from a great height. Knocking the air out of her lungs and mildly resetting her healing progress again.

You looked up and behind you to see 2718. He tossed three insect carcasses onto her greatly weakened body. He crouched down, grabbing your chin and inspecting you for any other injuries.

He must be practicing his new abilities. Fresh blood streaked down his cheeks, but his eyes were clear and healthy.

You were alarmed by the amount of insect glop that he was coated in, it was much more than usual, as if he bathed in them beforehand. He left black, slimy footprints behind him.

You peered over his shoulder and spotted... a gargantuan version of the numerous vermin carcasses that he's carrying around his neck like scarves. Ink surrounded it and the porch, making it seem the cabin is in the middle of a stygian sea.

"H-he said that's the mother." The translator coughed as she heaved the heavy backpack off her abdomen. She took deep breaths before continuing. "Once you killed any of its' young, she will come for you, bringing its' hoard of children."

You estimated the size of the mother to be as big as a bus. Double decker.

He lets go of your face and gently pushed you in the direction of the bedroom. You resisted it and walked around him.

"He wants you to rest."

You don't want to. You don't trust him around her, 2718 might just kill the translator if you're not looking!

"I'm not telling him that." Said the translator. But she said something to him anyways.

To your utter surprise, he narrowed his eyes and left her alone. He didn't leave just yet, he offered his hand to you.

Naturally, you asked her what she told him.

"I said that you though that he was cool, and handsome, and hot-- and you want to see him do... things. I don't know, I'm too tired to think of a proper translation right now." She closed her eyes. Letting her head loll to one side.

"Have fun or whatever..." She drawled. Falling silent after that. She remained motionless in the next few minutes.

Your attention was brought back to 2718 when he took the liberty to grab your hand in his sticky ones. You squirmed, despising the feeling of bug guts on your skin. Nonetheless, you followed him outside.

For your translator's sake.

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forms-and-phyla · 8 months

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Phylum #20: Gnathostomulida, the jaw worms!

Truly, all four gnathiferan phyla deserve the name of "jaw worms". They're worms (which as far as bilaterians go is pretty much a "default" category), and they have jaws. But the minute gnathostomulids are, in a way, the simplest, most archetypal "worms with jaws".

At most a millimeter long, adapted to live in shallow marine sediments, jaw worms are a typical component of the meiofauna. Which means, no need for futilities like a respiratory or circulatory system - cellular diffusion is more than enough! Even the digestive tract has been simplified, with no anus to be found.

With half of their body dedicated to sex organs, their reproduction strategy has to be peculiar. Fertilize each other (they're hermaphrodites!), produce an egg, and rupture the body wall to let it out. And patch the resulting wound as if it was nothing. Yes, they're that badass.

What about their fearsome jaws? Well, they'd much smaller than you'd imagine. In fact, their snout covered in whiskers-like cilia is much more visible. These are their only sense organs, with which they find prey before scooping them up with their basal plate and catching them with the other two jaws!

#forms and phyla #gnathostomulida #jaw worms #gnathifera #taxonomy #marine life #marine biology

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markama · 10 months

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Genshin sagau 'impostor' au

part [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6](you are here) [7] [8]... there will be more in the future

Mia knew that the archons would find her soon enough, she knew. But she didn't expect it to be this soon

She slamed the door of her house open and she got her phone and was about the jump out of the window when…

An anemo infused arrow missed her neck by a millimeter.

"Barbatos…Venti…Anemo Archon…" she taught as she quickly rolled to her desk that would protect her from Barbatos's arrow.

She pulled out a secret drawer from her desk as Barabatos continued to shoot her desk.

She grabbed flour and threw it in his face, effectively blinding him for a second.

That was all it took for her to jump down from the window. A cryo arrow almost blew her arm away. "Ganu…" she thought.

As she landed on the ground she immediately started running towards the nearest cliff. There she had made an emergency escape but she was knocked down when a boomerang like anemo strike made her trip. She looked back and saw Scaramouche, who had an anemo vision? "What…how is that possible he is still the Balladeer so why on Earth does he have an anemo vision?" she taught as her eyes started shaking a bit.

"Stop. Stop bitching and run." she whispered to herself as she got up right before Childe almost chopped her head off.

She was kicked to the stomach by Heizou. "What, I was supposed to punch right through her stomach… How did my attack get defused with anemo?" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. Mia didn't waste any time and took her emergency attack…pepper spray.

She spraid it in his eyes and ran.

She was tramebeling at this point. She couldn't keep her cool. She was slowly panicking.And everyone knew that.

She eventually got to the cliff and jumped, shocking everyone.

She grabbed all the branches around her trying to slow her falling speed down but her hands eader just slipped from the branch or it got broken from the force she was falling at.

She was about to fall as a black light engulfed her vision… she saw… a vision but with the color palette of earth. It didn't have an element on it. It had an infinity symbol on it.

She opened her eyes for the first time in months and but the world was slowed down. She could see everyone's weak spots owpnings and she could sense their future movements.

She slided to the side avoiding an attack from The Tsaritsa herself. She quickly spun around and grabbed her arm, twisting it and kicking her in the neck with force she didn't know she had.She immediately turned around and ran.

Everyone was too shocked to speak, talk and some of them were breathing. She thought she did it slowly and she didn't do anything but, oh boy how wrong was she.

As soon as her hand made contact with The Tsaritsa she immediately felt overwhelmed. She felt like a little worm and she felt so much pressure on her she felt like she was about to break and die. She was falling in a dark room with ghost-like figures with white outlines all round her. The figures were withering away and new faces appeared on their face that were closer and closer and she opened her eyes pale, eyes widened and lip trembling. When the 'imposter' kicked her she felt so sore, she felt it burning and soon she qas told ahe was knocked out for four months.

But while she was unconscious the hunt continued. As Pierro saw what she had done he immediately charged at her for revenge, "for Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa '' he taught as he was about to slice his sword right through her skull. The sword broke right before it was about to pierce her head. "On thank RNG Jesus that that sword was so badly made it broke right before… Come to think of it, that doesn't make any sense, but i'm not complaining. '' She taught with a light smile as she continued to run after spraying him with pepper spray too.

Everyone was shocked but they countinued with the hunt.

Soon enough she was circled by archons and adepti. "Surrender imposter." Ei's voice rung through the silence with authority. "I'd rather take a history test, than surrender, '' Mia ancwered. Sara's eyes widened with anger at the pure disrespect of the 'imposter'. In her anger she shot an arrow towards her head.

This time it hit its target. It went through Mia's head.

Mia had her eyes opened in terror revealing that they are gold. Her blood was gold too.

She was desperately trying to stop the bleeding but she felt her consciousness slipping away. As she fell back a cracking sound was heard. She had broken her head in the fall, losing more of her golden blood.

Everyone was horrified at the sight. Sara's hands were trembling as she fell to her knees "I harmed Her Grace" she said with a weak voice and soon she passed out too.

Kokomi tried to get closer to her so that shs could heal her. Nothing worked. Most of the archons and adepti and other people there were roos shocks to move as they trembled at the thought of harming Her Grace.

Mia sat up confused as she felt like she just slept after an all nighter. She was greeded by the sight of Sara passed out on the floor and all sorts of healers present and the archons standing in shame fists clenched, lips regretfully pressed tougher.

Soon enough everyone noticed Mia. She awoke with half of her head cracked open and she just looked confused.

As soon as she saw everyone she noticed her head wes feeling funny and she touched it and when she looked at her hand she saw it… they had seen her blood. She noticed her hair was back to it's natural form and without another thought she got up and ran. Ran away. They chased after her, this time not to kill her, but to help her head.

She was cornered again but this time by healers trying to help her but she was shouting to get away with a trembling voice. "No! Get away from me! What did i do to you?!Please!" she cried out.

She saw someone approaching her…

Sayu…

"Sayu…"

"Please, Your grace let the healers help you." she said to her.

Sayu had always known the person on the throne wasn't the same god as the creator that guided her. The person on the throne didn't have a comforting aura nor gold eyes.

"Fine…" Mia finally gave in and she let her head get treatet.

But then the other problem: the impostor on the throne.

As soon as Mia recovered she was going to confront the person on the throne.

And so she was about to confront the actual 'impostor'. What she didn't know whas that everyone followed her to make sure she's safe.

As soon as the 'impostor' and she saw eahother, they ran towards eachother. They were hugging crying on the floor.

"Mia! Mia its really you!" the supposed 'impostor' cried out. "I missed you so much" Mia said as tears of job were running down her cheecks.

Everyone was in shock at the scene. Ei stepped out of the shadows "Your Grace, get away from the impostor, i will slice them in half for what they did." "NO!" Mia sholted "Don't hurt her, if you do I-I… If you hurt her, i am going to kill myself!" "Aww that's so sweet of your sid-" she hot interrupted by the hydro archon "Why!? Who is that impostor to you for you to do such thing!?".

The girls just looked at each other as they smirked.

"Oh no one special just… my twin sister."

(I'm on a 6 hour trip to the beach fand i won't be back home until next week, i worte this on Samsung notes and copy pased it on tumbler so i van save my mobile data ✋😭)

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin imposter au #original oc #fiction

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