#Gobi Heat

[outdoorovernights]

Gobi Heat Terrain Chair Review

Have you ever set out on a winter camping trip only to realize that the cold can indeed get the best of your adventure? Indeed, the allure of the crisp winter air, the solitude of nature, and the mesmerizing silence of snowy landscapes can be the perfect escape from the daily grind. Yet, the biting chill can turn even the most seasoned outdoor enthusiast into a reluctant homebody. But fear not,…

[boopshoops]

Ah, how odd. It appears one of the puppets in Playful Land aren't quite like the rest. Almost like it has one of those consciences everyones been talking about, huh?

oc template by ai-kan1!! dividers by dollywons! Sound on!

Name: Isola Pinacirco-Cira

Nicknames: Pin, Pinpin, Goby

Gender: Demiwoman (Though she has not fully realized it yet!)

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: May 5 (Taurus)

Age: ??? (She has been asleep for a very long time, but she has been awake for 19 years)

Height: 5'0" or 152cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Lisa Hannigan, Miyuki Sawashiro

Twisted from: Pinocchio, Wendy's Music Box (From Tinkerbell/Peter Pan)

Unique Magic: "I've got no Strings" - The bearer can control and grant practically any unliving, immobile object the ability to move under their command. The more objects are being controlled, the more magic is consumed. However, the generation of blot is shockingly slow, allowing the bearer to use the magic for hours or even days at a time. Depending on the object, it may appear as though it is being haunted by a poltergeist. The magic, however, has a very short range. The object must be within five feet of the bearer, or it is no longer effective. Isola uses this magic to move her body on a day-to-day basis.

Grade: Freshman, though only after the Playful Land Event

Class: 1-D

Job: Playful Land Performer

Hobbies: Dancing ballet, face paint, makeup, putting outfits together, singing, sewing, wood carving, ceramic/pottery/resin repair.

Likes: Feather accessories, being alone, birds, rodents, bugs, performance, applause, classical, soul, and lofi music, animal figurines.

Dislikes: Rain, being alone, excessive heat, winter, bass boosted, fast, or hyper music, too frequent of doll repair jobs, cramped spaces, being unable to eat.

Fears: Being unlovable, never loving someone else, living a life alone, never living in a body they feel comfortable in.

Summary: A quaint performer at the renowned Playful Land, constantly known for putting on a show of elegance and grace. With her unusual cadence, she often struggles to maintain an audience despite her immense talent. Isola frequently scares off certain guests on accident. They have a very hard time handling their emotions, causing them to either come off highly unnatural or lacking facial expressions to a degree that could disturb others.

That's just the cons of being one of the many puppets on the premises, though. She is often mistaken as being one of the other, more robotic workers. Isola's body is detailed and articulated enough to stand out among them, but off-putting enough to be immediately recognized as inhuman. Nonetheless, she remains on the traveling amusement park as what is considered a "highly prized item" by the owner. Of course, you don't come across puppets like her everyday, do you? Might as well put her on display.

When night hits and protocol begins, when the consequences of breaking the many rules of the park take their toll, they can do nothing but watch over it all. It makes her feel sick, quite honestly. Disgusted. Yet, she isn't allowed to help anyone. Her attempts to help usually cause the visitors to flee from her anyway, followed by her own set of serious consequences imposed by the owner. The most she can truly do is make it harder on the other workers: including those she has no choice but to be closest to on the ship: Fellow and Gid- Ah. Wrong Identity. Ernesto and Gino.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - INSPIRATION - CREATION STORY

Author's Note: holy fuck they have a chokehold on me. hOOOO they have a chokehold on me. she came to me in a vision and did nOT let me go until she was created, holy fuck. UGSDBGSDIUAAAAA anyway, i love her and she is my baby. my slightly fucked up baby.

Note that relationships are up for possible changes in the future- I have thought about possibly involving them with someone romantically, but i feel like I want her to put HERSELF first before that. Her story is one about self love, self discovery, and self care, and I feel like throwing her into oc x canon romance too soon would negate that. ALSO she is NOT a part of my TCOAV au!!! i mean. im probably gonna still do fun stuff where she could interact with my ocs from there since im an au fanatic, but- yeah. tcoav is a story more focused on Yuu Shi, and I feel that would also take away from important parts of Isola's character and growth. tis an excuse to try a new oc profile format too <333

that all being said and on a somewhat less related note. i wanna make a comic of her so badly. fuCK. evaporates into thin air. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

Tag list :D

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3

@thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @qsoap

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @gimmeurmoneyagh

[aceofwhump]

HEY! ok so first I live for your posts and your whump lists! I need help finding some Loki, Lafayette and Keith fanfic

Loki from Marvel

Lafayette from Hamilton, Turn, etc.

Keith from Voltron

Hiya! Okay I'm not gonna be the best help here cause I've never read anything for Keith or Lafayette. But I do have tons for Loki cause I'm obsessed with Loki whump. Here's my favorites:

First of all read everything written by unintentiallyangsty because all of their Loki fics are INCREDIBLE!

I also greatly enjoy the works by Lise so check out their fics too.

being me can only mean feeling scared to breathe (if you leave me, then i'll be afraid of everything) by imadetheline Summary: Loki doesn’t remember the last time he slept through the night, but he does know it’s been a while since he woke up screaming. Or: Loki has a night terror while onboard the Statesman and his older brother is there for him.

You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore by GalaxyThreads Summary: Five months after Thor drags his half-dead brother to Earth to plead asylum, things take a turn for the worse. With the older Asgardian out of commission and a sizeable threat overshadowing them, Clint becomes aware of two facts: One: Loki was tortured, mind-controlled, and manipulated into attacking Earth. Two: Loki knows none of this. (gen, no smut)

Made Myself at Home by gandalfthemorallygrey Summary: Loki has been running himself ragged ever since the rebirth of the multiverse, desperately searching for Mobius. But an unfortunate encounter with a knife ends with him at the mercy of the Avengers shortly after their Battle of New York. This should be fun.

coming all apart by hamartia9167 Summary: It turns out that violently tearing yourself out of every thread of time and space simultaneously has repercussions. After he and Mobius make it out of the Temporal Loom, Loki falls apart physically and psychologically. But for once, he’s not alone.

the façade and bravado by Shyane Summary: In which Loki tries his damnedest to make himself out as a villain and fails spectacularly.

hard road series by bereft_of_frogs Summary: Loki is brought back to Asgard after being defeated in New York, but his condition rapidly deteriorates.

lay my head down by chthonics Summary: When a TVA mission finds them back in the Gobi desert, the heat becomes too much for Loki's body to handle. Luckily, Mobius is there to help.

Lol well okay then! When it comes to Kaz Brekker whump please check out the following tag on my blog for some good recs:

https://aceofwhump.tumblr.com/tagged/kaz%20brekker

[spooniechef]

Household Tips: Burnt Pans

Less a recipe today and more a hopefully helpful hint on how to deal with the consequences of brain fog without too much in the way of excess pain.

See, I’m generally very proud of my cookware. I have a thing where I ask my parentals for a cooking essential or two every year, because I can’t really afford the good stuff and though I don’t ask specifically for the good stuff, they will tend to see it as an investment for me and treat me to something really nice. Which means I own a nearly humbling amount of Le Creuset cookware. Well, I mean, three pieces - two saucepans and a baking dish. For me on my part-time wage, it’s humbling. The saucepans in particular have lasted over a decade with barely any signs of wear and tear.

Except yesterday I was making lamb dopiaza - the recipe’s in here somewhere, and it is the easiest thing in the world. Except I was also making aloo gobi - a somewhat harder recipe but I may include it anyway - and, as it turns out, I was having a particularly bad day when it came to brain fog. Easiest recipe in the world and I nearly screwed it up twice. And then, when I was hyperfocusing on the aloo gobi, I forgot that when trying to boil off the excess liquid from the dopiaza, you are in fact supposed to stir it more often than when it was on low heat. End result: a tasty dopiaza but with burned crap at the bottom of my precious Le Creuset saucepan. And there was no earthly way I was going to be able to scrub that off under normal circumstances. The fact that the plumbing in this place is a little dicky at the moment when it comes to hot water did not help. But I had to do something. That’s my good saucepan. It’s the only one I have that’s the right size to boil up my pasta.

Thankfully, I am well-versed in Google-fu, and after some digging, and a little experimentation with what I found, my Le Creuset pot is now clean as it was when I started my experiments, the bottom isn’t scratched, I’m not in that much more pain than I was when I started cleaning, and I am so very relieved. So I thought I’d share. Basically, all you need is baking soda and tin (aluminium) foil.

Rinse out your pot/pan with hot water and drain

Sprinkle 2 tablespoons baking soda on the bottom of the pot and then add a couple of drops of water to make a paste

Let sit for a couple of minutes

Take a golf ball-sized wad of tin foil and scrub the bottom of the pot/pan

Rinse again; touch up with a bit more baking soda paste if required

Tin foil does the kind of solid job a wire scrubber will do without the kind of damage you can get with that kind of thing, and the baking soda fizzing breaks up the yick to make it easier to scub off. Apparently you can do a similar sort of thing by scrubbing the damp bottom of the pot with a dishwasher tablet, but I thought buying dishwasher tablets when I don’t have a dishwasher was a step too far. If you do have a dishwasher, give it a shot if you ever end up in that situation.

That’s the tip for the day - a way to make one of the most onerous tasks in the kitchen a damn sight easier, and prevents heart attacks if you ever accidentally burn stuff to the bottom of your best pot or pan.

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Bad Batch: Specter

Episode 11: Devil's Deal

edited by: @ryleeeeeenn warnings: verbal argument, a really short chapter

Specter bit back a smile, watching as Omega scrunched her face while trying to practice her sign language. The girl was quick to understand but lacked finesse in her execution; still, Specter couldn’t ask for a better student.

“And… there! How’d I do?” the girl eagerly asked. Specter clicked her tongue.

“Much better than last time. But remember, it’s about how clearly you sign, not just about how fast,” she critiqued, adjusting Omega’s fingers as she held the last sign. “Alright, final check: introduce yourself.”

“But we already know her name’s Omega,” Wrecker said, oblivious to the lesson. Specter made a swatting motion at him before giving the girl her full attention. 

[Hello! My name is Omega], she signed. Specter grinned, seeing her practice come to fruition.

“Very good! Just keep at your vocabulary and alphabet, then I’ll check with you later,” she ruffled the girl’s hair. Hunter came in from the cockpit, clearly in a different mood than the girls. 

“So what did Cid say?” Echo asked him.

The Batch had just left Ord Mantell not too long ago, hauling about thirty crates of weapons ranging from blasters to grenades; Cid refused to tell them the location of their dropoff until they were far enough away and on a secure channel. And by the way Hunter refused to meet her gaze, Specter could tell she wouldn’t like where they were going. 

“Hunter?” she tried again. He took a breath.

“We’re heading to one of the moons of Ryloth to meet with a Twi’lek named Gobi.”

Wrecker, for once, went still, while Echo and Omega only sported confused expressions. Specter felt herself stand but wobble in place. Her heart churned with sorrow and anger. They were handing enough weapons for a small army over to the Twi’leks—her guilt would increase tenfold.

“Specter-” 

“Why did you say yes?” she interrupted him. "Why would you put me in this position?”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” he shrugged. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to take steadying breaths against the flood of memories. “Look, I’m sorry that we’re going to Ryloth, but we’re just doing a job.”

“That’s the problem! We’re doing nothing but a business transaction when you know very well of the promise I made!” she snapped.

“A promise you made,” he muttered, turning away and shaking his head. 

“We have a chance—a small chance—to help them just one time, and you can turn your back on them for money? You can turn your back on me?”

“Specter, we can’t help them,” Hunter said, simply, trying to de-escalate the situation.

“Can’t or won’t?” she replied in the same tone. He turned to meet her glare. 

“I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“Oh, that is rich coming from you. You know very well why I’m upset.”

“Do I? Remind me!”

“Because you’re making me go back to the place you forced me to abandon-”

“I had to pull you out to keep you fit for battle! We’re on a different mission. And as the leader of this group, need I remind you that we need to follow the orders of our job despite whatever personal-”

“Need I remind you that Crosshair would say the exact same thing? Follow orders and turn a blind eye?” Specter countered in a low voice, taking a step.

For a moment, palpable silence had filled the cabin. Omega opened her mouth to say something, but Wrecker shook his head, knowing it wouldn’t help. Specter’s gaze was fiery, Hunter bared his teeth, both of them caught their breath after the heated exchange: but it was far from over. 

“How dare you bring us—me—here, despite knowing what happened to us last time,” she seethed, taking another step closer.

“As the sergeant of this squad, I have the final say in what jobs we do or do not take,” he growled, trying to keep himself calm and controlled.

“We aren’t in the military anymore!” Specter cried. 

“They all trust me to lead them!” Hunter’s control was gone; he gestured wildly to the rest of the squad in the cabin.

“Do they? Good for them. I don’t anymore!” Specter shouted, now in his face.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

They both marched off to opposite ends of the ship; Hunter holed up in the rear gun while Specter sat down hard in the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. Tech gaped at her until she shot him a fiery glare: he turned back to the viewport, and she turned her back to him. Back in the main hold, Omega had covered her mouth, and Wrecker had covered his ears. Echo had simply remained as still as he could.

“What… what just happened?” Omega asked quietly, more confused and concerned than scared.

“I have never, ever seen them go at it like that before,” Wrecker said, almost more shaken up than Omega. “That came outta nowhere.” 

“What was she talking about?” Echo quietly asked. Wrecker grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s not for me to tell…” he said. Echo sighed, wondering if his desire to contribute more to causes against the Empire had rubbed off on her. But for now, he just hoped they would be able to complete the job without killing each other. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, the Marauder arrived with no further incident; Specter helped Tech land while Hunter finally emerged from the rear gun. He caught the gazes of Wrecker and Echo, awkwardly clearing his throat and putting on his helmet, feeling a little guilty that they were caught up in the midst of his fight with Specter. 

Specter appeared shortly after, still looking angry but tired as well—she shoved her helmet on. Hunter quietly sighed and opened the door, stepping out onto the planetoid, Wrecker hoisted a crate over his shoulder and dragged the other one.

“Stay on the ship, hun,” Specter instructed Omega as gently as she could. The girl nodded and sat on the steps, watching as her teammates went forward toward three Twi’leks. 

“Are you Gobi? Cid sent us,” Hunter greeted. The blue-skinned male stepped forward.

“Along with three dozen blasters and a case of thermal detonators,” Tech added. 

“Let’s see them,” Gobi said. Tech and Echo knelt down to reveal the contents of the boxes. Specter noticed one of them—a green-skinned girl, probably about 10 years old—step out of line and make her way toward the Marauder with wonder in her eyes. She noticed Hunter following the girl as well. 

“What type of ship is this?” the young Twi’lek asked Omega.

“A modified Omicron-class attack shuttle,” she answered.

“Can I have a look inside?” Omega eyed the girl.

“Hunter, can she come aboard?” she asked. Hunter nodded in approval. Despite all that had happened earlier, Specter was happy to see Omega making a friend, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. Standing off to the side, she leaned toward the other Twi’lek woman and spoke to her in Twi’leki.

“Tell me, what are the Imperial forces like down there?” she asked in hushed tones. The woman seemed surprised she spoke her language but answered anyway.

“Not good. Senator Orn Free Taa and Cham Syndulla welcome them into a new era of peace. He’s convinced everyone to lay down our weapons. We are defenseless; they occupy the mines and the capital,” she reported.

“And what of your people? And the clones?” Specter pressed.

“There is unease among us, but the clones haven’t done anything. It’s the man that leads them I’m worried about,” she said, almost shivering. Specter contemplated the news; she was more worried that Syndulla wasn’t fighting back, but she hoped things would remain status quo at least. 

“Thank you. I would have thought Syndulla would be the one amassing another defense militia,” she admitted. The Twi’lek shrugged.

“Hard to say. He’s tired of fighting. His wife is the one more suspicious of the Empire,” she said before turning back to Gobi and the others. 

“It’s a start,” he said, “have Cid contact me when she has more to sell.” He handed the case of credits to Hunter; whether either of them heard her conversation was not something Specter particularly cared about. 

“Building an arsenal attracts attention. You better know what you’re getting into,” Hunter commented. Specter scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Now he cares, she thought to herself. Wrecker noticed her demeanor and nudged her a little. She quickly schooled her expression into what she hoped looked more neutral. 

“We don’t have a choice,” Gobi said with a sigh. “Hera, we’re leaving,” he called, taking a crate and dragging it back to their ship with the other Twi’lek woman. The two girls came forward out of the ship.

“Thanks for the tour,” said Hera.

“Anytime,” Omega nodded with a smile. The girls waved goodbye before Hera ran back to her ship. “Good luck!”

“Make a new friend?” Hunter asked. 

“She’s kind of strange. I like her,” the girl replied with a smile. “Did you know flying’s about a feeling?” she added before trotting back to the ship. The Batch eyed her, quizzically.

“What ‘feeling’?” Tech wondered.

“The only thing I usually feel when I fly is Tech glaring at me,” Specter shrugged. Her brother shot her a look as they followed the group back on board. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She and Hunter still did not speak to each other, even after they had taken off and set themselves on a drifting course back to Ord Mantell. Tech and Echo looked at each other from the pilot-copilot seats, eyeing Specter, who quietly sulked in the seat behind Echo. She was hugging her knees close, staring off into the controls. Neither of them thought her standoff with Hunter would last this long. Echo sighed quietly and gave a look to Tech, silently telling him to leave the cockpit so he could talk to her. He nodded and left Echo and Specter alone.

“So, what did that Twi’lek say?” he started. Specter came back into focus, letting her legs down.

“She said that Cham Syndulla was able to convince everyone to lay down their weapons and let the clone army protect them. He and Senator Orn Free Taa are convinced it’s a new time of peace. But they’re defenseless,” she said almost robotically. “She’s not so worried about the clones themselves but rather the man currently leading them.” Echo hummed in response before turning to face her. 

“Why is this really bothering you?” he asked, leaning in close. She crumbled under his scrutinous gaze and gave him an answer… one she dreaded.

“Sometime before we had rescued you, we were dispatched on Ryloth to help cover a skirmish. It was rough,” Specter started to explain, resting her elbows on her knees. “Hunter and I were evacuating a village while Tech, Crosshair, and Wrecker tried to stave off the oncoming droids. I was sidetracked with getting a family to cover when I-” she paused to wipe her face, “I lost track of the kids from the school. When I finally had the time, I tried to go back and find them. I was so convinced that they were right there in the school shed, but Hunter had to physically restrain me to keep me from going back in. And I thought I could hear a scream…”

“Oh, Specter,” Echo sympathized, putting his hand on her shoulder as she started to quietly cry. He now understood why she was so angry at Hunter; he was sure that if he were in the same situation, he would be too. But at the same time, he understood Hunter’s side; it was his duty to fulfill the mission, yes, but also to protect his squad. Specter sniffed back tears and wiped her face again, sitting up straight. 

“I can’t look at Ryloth and forget what happened when I didn’t do enough,” Specter’s voice was shaky, fighting back more tears, “and I promised myself I would not make that same mistake again. Not here.”

She couldn’t forget how hard she had cried out. Hunter had to hold her back and tell her over and over that there was nothing more they could do, and that they had to leave. She knew that even though they never talked about it, the sound of her screams echoed in their heads for days after they had left the planet. 

Echo sat back in his seat, letting her finish processing. He had no idea she had such a past and couldn’t fathom the guilt she still harbored or how she managed to hide it. 

“I think the worst part,” she continued, “is hearing Hunter so easily shut down the idea of helping them—without any remorse—and then saying how he’s such a trusted leader. That crap hurt, and it reminded me… reminded me of…”

“Crosshair,” Echo finished for her again. She nodded, hugging her knees again. Unbeknownst to the both of them, Hunter was listening from the main hold, his heightened senses picking up their hushed tones. 

“This is the longest we’ve ever been apart.” She ran her hand over the back of her neck; there, a matching tattoo of a shared phrase between her and Crosshair. ‘Strike hard’, his read. ‘Aim true’, said hers. “Maybe I’m just looking to find him—his trace, his presence—anywhere.”

“Well, I can certainly relate when it comes to missing your brothers,” he muttered. 

“Your twin, right?” she looked up at him. He nodded, solemn and missing him.

“Yeah. Fives and I were practically inseparable. I don’t think I can name a mission where we were ever apart. And like you said, I’m finding parts of his presence in all of you,” Echo reminisced. 

“He knew about Order 66, didn’t he?” asked Specter, although it sounded more like a statement. Echo looked at her, surprised she knew. “I overheard the Coruscant Guard once, talking about having to shoot down some delusional clone—I’m sorry,” she stopped herself, not wanting to stir up any more sad memories. 

“It’s alright. He did know about it, but it was after I had already ‘died’,” he finished, almost smiling at the ironic misfortune. Silence passed—more comfortable than when Hunter and Specter had fought—before he spoke again. “Waking up, and finding out that he was gone hurt more than anything Watt Tambor did to me. Even after Rex told me everything, I never got closure; and while the Batch has become my new family…” Now Echo was at a loss for words.

“You still feel like part of you is missing,” she finished for him, reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I used to think Crosshair and I were so close, that if one of us got hurt, the other would feel it,” she gave his shoulder a squeeze before bringing it back to herself. “But back on Bracca, he was caught in that engine blast… and I didn’t feel anything. It feels like I’ve lost touch with him completely; I don’t know if he’s okay or if he’s going to be okay. And worst of all, I still feel guilty for hating him so much.” Specter sounded angry, but Echo could see the frustrated hurt on her face. He smiled to himself.

“You know, you’re just as stubborn as Crosshair.” A smirk flashed across her face. 

“Oh, please. My stubbornness for hating him does not compare to Crosshair. He was once so mad at me, that when I told him to pack for a snow planet, he didn’t and insisted he was fine even though he was on the verge of hypothermia,” Specter giggled. Echo snorted. 

“Fives was pretty grounded in his ways too. One time he mistook salt for sugar, and when he put it in his drink, he told us it tasted good,” he was already laughing with Specter by the time he finished his sentence. 

Hunter could hear them, and while it felt good to hear her laugh after how angry they had been with each other, he was still upset with her. And he knew she would be upset with him too; that fact was made obvious when she appeared from the cockpit, her smile immediately dropping into a scowl, and shoved past him to lay on her rack. The corner of his mouth flickered into a frown, glaring as she watched her pass. It would be a while before either of them apologized, so the rest of the Bad Batch would have to deal with the tension until they worked it out. Whenever that would be. 

Sorry this was a short chapter and I'm SO sorry Specter and Hunter had a fight. It was so hard for me to write I didn't want them to be mad at each other T^T

[copperbora]

Meet Purrling Reef, aka the 13.5 gallon Fluval Evo reef aquarium that I forgot to tell you all about before: in today's episode: in which Moby scares the sh-! out of me (he's good at that.)

This is Moby, my baby Amphiprion ocellaris clownfish, who, providing that he survives my relative incompetence may live 15+ years. Clownfish are known for being quite hardy fish and people used to use them to cycle their aquariums which is now recognized by many reef aquarists as mild animal cruelty. (Therefore I cycled Purrling Reef using pure ammonia instead.) Along with my (probably female) yellow watchman goby Clyde, Moby has been in Purrling Reef for about a month now.

Things are going well; ammonia is at 0 ppm, nitrates are usually at 0 ppm, phosphates are usually at .25 ppm, salinity is stable at 1.025, and my PH hovers at a somewhat soft but okay 7-7.5. Having at last gotten through the worst of the summer heat and having finally figured out how to set up my inkbird temperature properly, Purrling Reef's waters stay a comfy 25°C (78°F,) all day and night long.

Things are going well, so naturally Moby opted to scare the crap out of me this morning by acting like he was dying.

WTF MOBY.

Terrified for his life I promptly did a water change and dosed the tank with Seachem Prime (which detoxifies ammonia as well as chemicals like chlorine,) then Seachem Stress Guard (which soothes fish.) My ammonia was at zero but I thought that the Prime was a good idea anyway.

Moby promptly stopped looking like he wanted to be crab food, so I went to work; when I came home he was back to his annoying ol' habit of chilling by the filter outflow.

WHY FISH.

After testing all of my water parameters again and finding that all seems well I turned my attention to my newest addition to my reef: Spook the Halloween Hermit crab. I actually call him Captain Spook because he is rather overwhelmingly the least useless member of my cleanup crew. Usually, since I got him he clams up at my approach, sucking as much of his body as he can into the enormous conch snail shell which he adopted as his mobile home.

Chances are he murdered the original inhabitant of this shell.

Today though Spook decided not to spook at my approach which I have two theiries for:

1. The vast anti-Keplar fortifications that I set out around the aquarium double-sided tape traps are working! Yay! (Keplar must not be scaring my aquarium inhabitants as much anymore.)

2. My water is still screwed up so Spook is feeling weird. Given that I have only been at this for like three months... yeah, I can't ignore this possibility.

It was rather remarkable getting to see his white carapace up close for once. While it reminded me that he is in fact a sea bug, but I refuse to hold this against me due to his janitorial awesomeness and the fact that he is much less anxiety inducing than Moby. (Although I live in fear of him eating one of my two puny dwarf hermit crabs.

I can't wait until I can adopt more livestock; Purrling Reef definitely has a job opening available for an emerald crab! (Captain Spook does not like salad.)

Also, here's

Also, here's Clyde the yellow watchman giby who would like me to mention her job a for a pistol shrimp; in the wild watchman gobies live with these shrimp.

If she gets a pistol shrimp friend maybe she'll coe out of her den more often.

[tauforged]

cranked up the heat and turned down the light intensity in my reef tank to try and tackle my algae problem, been worried that the corals wouldn’t take well to it and that it might cause them some issues, but instead they’re actually all like . visibly happier. more vibrant and also opening their polyps more. the shrimp and goby pair i’ve got are way more active now too… i may be stupid

[nothingunrealistic]

hurt/comfort 20 for taylip

20. cut

Philip answers the door with a rather ungracious “What?”, which he’ll blame on his thumb, hastily swaddled in a paper towel, and his smoke detector, beeping insistently over a not-quite-clean stove burner, and his expectation that no one would knock for another seven minutes.

“I realize I’m early,” says Taylor. Their gaze travels from his face to the kitchen behind him to his hand. “What happened to your —”

“Washing a knife. My hand slipped.” The smoke alarm had startled him at exactly the wrong time. “But everything’s still attached, so don’t worry about it.”

He’s half-hoping they’ll take the hint and wait in the hall for six minutes while he pulls it together. This is Taylor, though, so of course they come right in and brush past him without a word.

“What are you doing?”

Taylor drags one of his chairs across the kitchen, climbs up, and presses something on the smoke detector that stops the beeping. Though the silence is a relief, the pain in his hand seems amplified without anything to drown it out.

“Thanks.”

“It won’t last.” They step down and approach the pan of potatoes and cauliflower on the faintly-smoking burner. “Can this come off the heat?”

“No, it’s still simmering. Could you turn on the hood, though?”

The fan clicks on and whirs up to speed. Philip goes to the sink to wash the cut, and with the blood and the initial shock of fuck, I sliced my hand open cleared away, he can see it’s not that bad. It’s confined to the pad of his thumb, short and shallow with straight edges, and pretty much done bleeding. Likely he can manage without stitches.

“Do you want me to take a look?” says Taylor, close enough in his ear that he’s sure they’re already looking.

“Sure, if you have a medical degree I don’t know about. I’m only first aid certified.”

“So was I.”

Past tense. “When?”

“High school. Lifeguarding.”

“Well, mine’s still on the right side of its expiration date, so I’ll handle it.”

Philip feels Taylor watching his every move as he reaches into the cupboard over the sink, gets out the box of butterfly bandages, tips out a few onto the island — all wrong-handed and clumsy — and realizes what they must have already figured out. Namely, unless he grows an extra hand or a knack for contortionism, he won’t be able to do this himself.

He turns to Taylor. They’re sitting in the chair and mostly succeeding in not looking smug.

“Yes?”

“Did your lifeguard classes cover these?”

Taylor rises. Philip offers his right hand to them; they step closer and grasp his wrist. 

“Careful,” he says, mostly out of some sense that he should.

“Of course.”

Taylor tilts his hand, just a few degrees’ supination, to study the cut, then reaches past him to pick up a loose bandage from the island. It suddenly strikes him as vitally important that he hold very, very still, and stay that way even as they’re in motion — straightening up again, peeling off the backing, pinching the flesh of his thumb, placing the bandage, all their attention focused on a single square inch of his skin.

“So,” they say, a transparent attempt to break the newly forming ice. Not that he objects. “Aloo gobi, yes?”

Honest to God, he’d forgotten he was cooking anything. “Yeah.”

“And DoorDash didn’t cut it?”

“My usual place changed their recipe.” He holds his breath while Taylor grabs another bandage. “Trying to recreate the original.”

“Ben Kim is something of a hobby chef. He might have suggestions.”

“I’ll ask him next time.”

Taylor’s hands slow — not long, but long enough for him to notice — and the conversation peters out, leaving the hood fan to fill the silence.

“That should hold it,” they say once the second bandage is in place. “Assuming it’s up to your standard.”

Philip examines his newly relinquished hand. The cut is neatly closed; the bandages are snug but not overly tight. He doubts he could have done a better job even with two hands. “I think I’ll survive.”

(Put a number and two characters in my ask box and get a hurt/comfort drabble)

[foxounderscorecube]

how is the weather out there, have you taken any cool walks lately :]?

Right now, it's just grey. A week or two ago, the weather got the memo that we're getting into autumn, and it went from being warm to being milder basically overnight! There's been some sunny days lately, but not as hot as it was, which is a relief for me because I do NOT cope with the heat!!

I haven't had too many wanders lately, which is a shame - just a walk into the town centre to buy some stuff we needed and then a coffee. I definitely need to go on a proper wander sometime. When I was back home a few weeks ago, though, I went on a few walks around the beach, and it was so lovely to see the sea! I posted photos of the snails I saw, but I don't think I posted any from the beach here:

This particular rockpool contained a group of tiny little baby goby fish, which was wonderful!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Being an Adult

I have done Adulting. I am kind of fed up with Adulting now.

Took out the garbage and recycling - always a struggle, but I did it. That meant I just missed my bus to the big supermarket. A bunch of asshole teenagers turned up at the bus stop maybe three minutes before the next bus arrived and shoved past me (me with my cane, who’d been waiting fifteen minutes in the approaching 30C heat before they got there) to get on the bus first. At least I got a seat, though a couple of said asshole teenagers colonised the other bit of priority seating and wouldn’t move even when people far less able to stand got on the bus.

One day I am going to say something to that particular species of asshole who takes priority seating when there are other seats available just because they don’t feel like walking to those seats, and if I’m lucky I’ll just get punched.

Anyway, one of these days I will remember that my carry capacity is not what it used to be. I picked up lamb, cauliflower, and tomato for lamb dopiaza and aloo gobi. I picked up minced beef (which I did manage to get on Reduced To Clear prices, so maybe there was a bit of karmic reward for the bullshit I went through earlier in the day) and pre-made mashed potato for cottage pie. I picked up cocoa powder, powdered milk, and little marshmallows so I could make more hot chocolate mix. I picked up red onions because everything I’ve made in the last week has involved red onions and I ran out. I even remembered that I was running low on mouthwash and picked up some of that.

If this is starting to sound like a lot ... yeah, it is. Also remember the bit above about the bus. That kind of shit is probably easy when you have a car and only have to carry stuff from driveway to kitchen; not so much when you have to go to the bus stop, wait for the bus, get on the bus, find a way to keep your shopping unobtrusive so others can sit if they need to but still be able to get out of your seat without tripping over your own bags, get off the bus, and then walk uphill to block of flats and then still have to get into the actual flat. But I keep forgetting that I do not handle that kind of weight very well anymore and I suffered for it. Still, I did need this stuff. Plus, inexpensive minced beef.

Still wasn’t done when I got home, either. After some juggling to put stuff away, I ate a healthy lunch. Then I made hot chocolate mix. And then, I boiled up some brine for more refrigerator dill pickles (I’ve run out and I want to make this before the cucumbers I bought last big shop go off). That needs to cool before I do much else cookery-wise, but I had a late lunch so late dinner is probably fine. Also I have Reese’s Pieces.

That’s the thing. ‘Adulting’ means doing all those things we have to do to keep a functional home - chores, bills, job(s) to pay for it all - but being an adult means knowing that so long as all that gets done, I can spend the evening playing video games and eating Reese’s Pieces in effectively pyjamas if I want to.

Therefore, as per the tag, I am a motherfucking adult.

[atlaskrr]

Since it's pride month and I haven't posted anything for it yet...

ENJOY SOME GAY AF ANIMALS!🏳️‍🌈✨

Starting of with the gendery ones for our lovely trans community

Clownfish

I'm sure a lot of people already know about clownfish and how they are all born as males but can change into females under some circumstances. But it's not just them since many other's like...

Parrotfish!

(Look at that rainbow fish)

Wrasse

(Another rainbow fish)

Kobudai

(Silly little fishies)

These fish and many more reef fish go through sequential hermaphroditism so their sex changes at some point in their life under different conditions from female to male. Next up we have...

GOBIES!

Yup. Fish once again. Who knew they had so much gender? These little ones are a little funky. They can literally change their gender back and forth (if only humans could change their gender at will) though it does very based on species. + bonus fact: the males have a harem.

Invertabre

Many invertabre species like worms, jellyfish, starfish, snails, slugs, barnacles, nudibranchs and many more live as both male and female at the same time (love for the multigender.)

Center Bearded Dragons

I know we've been mainly seeing fish and other marine creatures so let's switch it up with this reptile. It has normal sex genes but the second is sex based on temperature. That right. Sex change based on heat. So they change it for what they feel (sounds genderfluid).

Common Reed Frogs

These ftm jumpy boys have benefits loving their species gender changing features. 7/24 of them will change from female to male. Scientists can't even find a reason and can only speculate. It's just random. Yk what they don't need a reason so we don't need to justify our transitions either because it's what we FEEL. I hope one day humans can evolve to change sex like this species because apparently we affect this species awakenings.

Marsh Harrier

40% of males manipulate their appearance to have female characteristics. Scientists say it's to avoid attacks but what if they're just like us, only able to change so much on the outside without those cool sex changing abilities of other species. I see it as an mtf win.

-----------

That's it for todays pride zoology lesson. Tune in tomorrow for a lesson on same sex mating animals. Happy pride month everyone :))

[usafphantom2]

Tap pictures to enlarge

☝️ strange, manta-ray shaped, dusty black thing lying at an angle just on the other side of that fence? It may be an old airfield wind vane or radar test model. But it also may be…

Once I found an opening in the fence I could walk right up to the D-21. It had been recovered by the museum from the AMARG Boneyard at Davis-Monthan AFB and was awaiting restoration.

I had only read about it and seen grainy photos of it. I know it’s impossible. The project was so secret not much information exists about the details even today. But I stand there gawking through the chain link fence as the ruins of the other planes bear silent witness. It’ like the corpses of the other airplanes are urging me to look closer. To not leave. Their silent dignity begs me to tell this story.

After nearly a minute of studying it through the fence I realize; I am right. It is right before my eyes. Ten feet away. Despite the 100-degree heat I get goosebumps. And I start running….

quickly locate a spot where the entire fence line opens up. I skirt the fence and in a couple minutes running around the sandy airplane corpses I’m inside. There, sitting right in front of me on its decrepit transport cart and dusted with windblown sand, abandoned in the Sonoran Desert, is one of Kelly Johnson and Ben Rich’s most ambitious classified projects from the fabled Lockheed Skunk Works.

Only an A-12 ( The M-21 what is modified from an A-12) Blackbird is fast enough and can fly high enough to photograph this, the most classified of national security tests. Traveling faster than a rifle bullet at 91,000 feet, near inner-space altitude, one of the most ambitious and bizarre contraptions in the history of mankind is about to be tested.

“Tagboard” is its codename. Because of the catastrophic May, 1960 shoot-down of Francis Gary Powers’ Lockheed U-2 high altitude spy plane over the Soviet Union the CIA and is in desperate need of another way to spy on the rising threat of communist nuclear tests. Even worse, the other “Red Menace”, the Chinese, are testing massive hydrogen bombs in a remote location of the Gobi Desert near the Mongolian/Chinese border. It would be easier to observe the tests if the Chinese did them on the moon.

The goal is simple, but the problem is titanic. Get photos of the top-secret Red Chinese hydrogen bomb tests near the Mongolian border deep inside Asia, then get them back, without being detected. Despite a successful launch the D-21 drone was lost. In the middle of 1972, after four attempts at overflying Red China with the D-21 drone and four mission failures, the program was cancelled. It was imaginative. It was innovative. It was ingenious.

But it did happen. The project moved on and was later launched from a B-52 D out of Beale Air Force Base in 1969. This was the biggest secret of the Cold War my Dad, Butch Sheffield was there. He had been briefed into the A-12. He knew what it was on the flightline that day . (Butch writes about in his unpublished book). He was unable to disclose to his fellow Habu’s’s just what was tucked under that B-52. The program was somewhat successful as the Chinese have one of our D 21s on display today in China!

Written by Tom Demerly paraphrased and comments by Linda Sheffield photo of the D 21 in the desert taken by Tom Demerly

[spooniechef]

Aloo Gobi (1-2 spoons)

I waited awhile on posting the aloo gobi recipe because I wanted to find all the shortcuts I could before posting it. I found the basis for this recipe on the Cooking With Manali website; it’s generally speaking a 2-spoon recipe, but I’ve since found some shortcuts to the process that make it a little easier, with a lot less faff. It goes nicely with the lamb dopiaza I posted the recipe for awhile back, and also with tandoori chicken, the recipe for which I will post later. So here we go - for the record, this is 100% vegan, so it’s a nice main dish if you’re vegetarian or vegan, and is a nice side dish if you’re not, since it combines the starch and veg portions of your meal, so that leaves one less thing to cook.

Here’s what you’ll need:

2 potatoes, sliced or cubed

1 cauliflower, cut into smallish florets

1 onion, chopped

2 tomatoes, chopped

1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds

1.5 teaspoons ginger-garlic paste

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

1/4 teaspoon red chilli powder

1/4 teaspoon garam masala

1 teaspoon ground coriander

First note is that all of the spices are pretty much to taste. I used a half-teaspoon each of garam masala and red chilli powder, because I do tend to like it a little spicy, but most Indian recipes leave a lot of wiggle room for how spicy you like them.

Here’s what you do:

In a pan with maybe 2 tablespoons of oil, add your cauliflower and cook on medium heat for two minutes or so. Then add the potato, turn the heat to medium low, and cook that for 5-7 minutes or until the cauliflower starts to brown in places

Put the potato and cauliflower onto a plate with a paper towel to get the excess oil; set aside

In the same pan, add a little bit more oil and add the cumin seeds; heat until they start to crackle

Add the onion and cook until translucent (2-3 minutes); then add the garlic-ginger paste and heat until the scent of raw ginger dies down a bit

Add the tomato and cook for another 2 minutes or so until the tomato is slightly soft, then add all the rest of the spices and stir; cover the pan and let that heat for 2-3 minutes

Add the potatoes and cauliflower to the spice mix and stir until the potatoes and cauliflower are covered with the spice mix; cover again and heat, stirring occasionally, for 10-15 minutes or until the vegetables are tender without being soggy

It sounds more complicated than it is, and honestly, the worst part of it is the preparatory chopping. Here are the places where I made things slightly easier on myself:

The original recipe called for the garam masala to be added separately to the other spices, halfway through the last cooking phase, but adding them all at once is easier and more convenient and doesn’t seem to ruin anything, so that’s the bit I wrote down.

Cutting a cauliflower into florets is fiddly and annoying, but I found a trick while looking at my head of cauliflower this evening. You know that thing where if you bash the butt end of your head of lettuce with the heel of your hand or the counter or something, the core comes right out and leaves you without having to rip the lettuce leaves off one by one? Well, it works for cauliflower too. Just give the butt end a good hard smack against the counter and while you may have to cut a few of the larger florets in halves or quarters, it’s still better than cutting all of them off the core in terms of time and effort. Just keep in mind that there will be some debris in the form of tiny floret-fragments, so be prepared for a bit of clean-up.

A mandoline is definitely your friend for this kind of thing; just quarter your tomatoes and onion and stick the quarters in the mandoline. When you no longer have to chop two tomatoes and an onion, and you don’t have to do much cutting with the cauliflower, that saves more spoon for peeling and cubing your potato.

Speaking of which, cube the potato relatively small, or if you prefer larger chunks, put the potato cubes in at the same time as the cauliflower. Otherwise you’ll end up with either underdone potato or overdone cauliflower, depending on where you took it.

All of the above should take the effort needed for this one from two spoons down to one, but I admit I may be slightly biased because I succeeded at potato soup the other day and that involved peeling two and a half pounds of potatoes (so something a little over a kilo) so after that, two potatoes seems a little less onerous. Then again, I managed to make the aloo gobi with these tips and tricks during a really bad pain day (not really to do with the peeling a kilo of potatoes) so I figure if I can make the aloo gobi during this level of ow, it’s probably a one-spoon recipe.

I may include the recipe for the soup later this month, because honestly it’s just the peeling and chopping of the potatoes that’s a bugger. That along with tandoori chicken (which I tried today and I don’t think needs any particular adjustment to make it easier), Japanese curry, and probably lasagne with the bonus of my take on my family’s meat sauce recipe.

[commanderfloppy]

What’s ur favourite animal? What’s ur SECOND favourite animal?

UHhhh every animal is so cool but uhh

Honduran White Bats are super small and cute

And they make little tents out of leaves

Annndd uhhh another one uhh

The Pistol Shrimp is a shrimp with one Large claw . As it's name implies it can snap the claw so hard it sends out a bubble bullet and stuns it's prey.

The bubble bullet is incredibly powerful at speeds around 60mph (96kph), it makes a noise over 200 Decibels (Louder than gunshots), and creates a small area of heat at the same temperature as the Sun's Surface!

But that's not my favorite thing about these guys. My favorite thing is that they're kinda bad at seeing, so they formed a symbiotic relationship with Gobys.

Pistol Shrimp are really good at digging, and Gobys have good eyesight. So the shrimp will spend his time digging a nice house for him and the goby to live in, while the goby keeps watch for any predators!!

[the-monkey-ruler]

Tang Xuanzang (1994) 唐玄奘

Director: Liu Jinyuan / Deng Pinglan

Starring: Xu Shaohua / Fu Biao

Country/Region of Production: Mainland China

Language: Mandarin

Date: 1994

Number of seasons: 1

Episodes: 18

Type: Crossover

Summary:

The 18-episode TV series "Tang Xuanzang" strictly respects history and reproduces the historical reality of the monk Tang going to the West to learn Buddhist scriptures. There are hundreds of eminent Buddhist disciples from Southeast Asian countries. It made Zen Buddhism flourish in Southeast Asia and China. His contribution and influence went far beyond Buddhism, beyond national borders, and beyond history. 

Tang Monk, whose common name is Chen Ye, and whose dharma name is Xuanzang. He was born in a family of officials who were "heirs of poetry and painting". At the end of the Sui Dynasty and the beginning of the Tang Dynasty, there were frequent wars, and his father was framed by treacherous officials, and his family was wiped out. Influenced by his mother who believed in Buddhism, Chen Ye, who had long been wise, escaped the catastrophe under the protection of eminent monks, and led him to practice at the White Horse Temple in Luoyang. The number of scriptures is not only small, but also incomplete, the translation is full of loopholes, and there are many Buddhist sects, each sticking to its own words. In order to rectify the chaos, get to the bottom of the matter, seek the true meaning of Buddhism, and rejuvenate Zen Buddhism, he boldly proposed a request to learn Buddhist scriptures in India, which was approved by the supreme ruler of the Tang Dynasty. 

After a long journey, thousands of catastrophes, solitary smoke in the desert, flying stones in the Gobi, traitors chasing and killing, disciples rebelling, wilderness being robbed, Gaochang country being killed, enlightenment in suffering, bitterness in enlightenment, looking westward, cold moon and stars, severe cold. In the scorching heat, the white horse's hooves shattered, and the setting sun was like blood, Tang Xuanzang finally arrived at the birthplace of Buddhism after going through untold hardships. He eagerly read Buddhist classics, and humbly turned to Mahayana. Theravada Buddhism inquired, and passed on the Tang Dynasty documents and his unique understanding of Buddhism to India, sowed the seeds of Chinese civilization, and established the image of his generation of masters. What is particularly valuable is that Tang Seng learned scriptures and wrote articles all the way. After returning to China, he wrote the immortal masterpiece "Da Tang Western Regions", leaving precious literary and historical materials for China and the world.

The monks of the Tang Dynasty took the scriptures, and the white horses carried the scriptures, and what they carried back was the heavy Bayeux scriptures. In order to translate the scriptures, Tang Monk forgot to sleep and eat, worked tirelessly, and finally became sick from overwork, and passed away suddenly at the table of translating scriptures. A tragic journey, a poignant story, a great cause, and brilliant achievements.

Source: https://movie.douban.com/subject/5364983/

Link: N/A