#Like crabs in a barrel.

[cyarsk52-20]

Get back to her in 6 months.

I want yall to get EVERYTHING yall voted for.

Ppl, on both sides of the wrong choice, trying to pick fights with us because we stop caring. I'm like, y'all don't get it. Black & Jewish ppl are truly tapped out! I hope you get all you wanted & more with your votes cuz we on vacation!

And they got the nerve to talk about do something , like no, you got what you deserve

In every election, there are consequences good bad and ugly

Don’t act surprised if you choose the bad ones

[multiversal-pudding]

Dumb/crack Roblox Pressure idea:

Sebastian getting 3 fingered webbed/shelled hands treated as body horror… except its working with the blocky player model instead of assuming he starts as human. The body horror is him growing hands in the first place /j

[ilyamatic]

Mixed Emotions, Heart Still Open

Oh no, the meme has become a bit of a series. Catch part one here and Vissenta's pov here.

CW: Drug use, relapsing

Song: Where You Are by John Summit and Hayla

Andrico was not running away. They don’t run away from anything. They were making a… strategic exit.

Because the thing about Julian Devorak, the love of their life and bane of their existence in equal measure, was that he was easy to spot in a crowd. It was hard to miss the guy who was more than a head taller than everyone else and dressed like a 90s goth mall rat. So when they noticed that distinctive mop of auburn curls, Andrico decided a visit to the bathroom was necessary. And if the bathroom was located next to the fire exit? Well…

Now, should that have led them to another club? Probably not. It was a festival weekend. That meant after parties. That meant drugs. That meant a couple of lines snorted in the bathroom, a new dealer’s number saved, and a very awkward conversation with their NA sponsor when they unblocked him in 3 weeks. That meant 5 years of sobriety down the drain.

Nasty work.

That being said, those were problems for future Andrico. Andrico right then? Oh, they felt good honey. Better than they had in weeks. Their blood was pumping, their inhibitions gone. There was only the music, the bass, the bodies writhing and grinding against theirs. Andrico didn’t have to think about Julian cleaving their heart in two or the strange way Vissenta got under their skin and stayed there or the empty apartment they were going back to. They only needed that moment, that high. Time meant nothing and each moment bled into the next.

Another line, a new song, laughter spilling into the streets. A stranger’s hand in theirs pulling them onto another dance floor. Rinse, repeat.

But there was only so much cocaine they could snort before they ended up in the hospital again, especially after so long. The high couldn’t last forever. They had to come down at some point. It just shouldn’t have been like this.

“Dunya?”

They should just ignore him. The music was loud enough, yeah? They were still far gone enough. They could do it.

“Dunya please. We have been looking for you all night. You left your purse and phone behind and–”

A strong arm wrapped around their middle and tried to gently guide them from the dance floor. Suddenly Andrico wasn’t floating miles above the Earth. They were in some too hot warehouse surrounded by people they didn’t know and Julian was there, holding them.

They were back in their body and it hurt.

“Let me go,” they pleaded with a weak shove.

“Dunya, we have to go,” Julian said gently. “It’s near dawn. We have to take you home.”

They could feel themselves starting to cry again. “No no no. Let me go. You don’t love me.”

“Andrico.”

They couldn’t handle the crack in his voice. They began to cry in earnest.

“You don’t love me, you don’t love me, you don’t love me but you won’t let me go,” Andrico sobbed. “I love you, let me go.”

Another set of hands came and rested on their shoulders, gently leading them away. They knew Vissenta’s touch anywhere. The sobs continued.

“You don’t love me,” Andrico said again. They repeated it like a mantra. They didn’t know who they meant anymore.

They soon found themself bundled in the back of a car. From the smell of Malboros and hand sanitizer they knew it was Julian’s. They would cry harder if they could but they were wrung dry.

A weight draped over them, all sea salt and burnt wood. Julian’s coat.

Whispers filled the car as he took the driver’s seat and Vissenta slipped into the passenger’s. Snippets of “what did they take?” and “how much?” caught their ear.

They were so tired.

Once the car began to move Andrico allowed themself to flop to the side. Vissenta’s head snapped towards them.

“He-y Drico,” their casual tone misplaced with the worry etched on their face. “Can you sit back for us buddy?”

Andrico shook their head. It was too much effort.

“Okay, that’s okay. Just let us know if you start feeling sick alright?”

“Or don’t lay on your back please?” Julian cut in.

If they had the energy they would snort. This wasn’t their first rodeo. Instead, Andrico allowed their eyes to close and focused on the car moving beneath them. In no time the whispers became white noise and they were able to drift off to sleep.

If they dreamed in thundercloud gray and olive green, that business was their own.

[doncherrycola]

you know its funny when white writers and artists talk about how cancel culture or political correctness has ruined art or makes it impossible for them to create because i honestly feel like white writers get away with sooo much and everyone gives them the benefit of the doubt or at worst a like “well what do you expect from them” or “they dont have the life experience to write it well” attitude whereas writers of color seem to get constantly scrutinized for how they’re representing their own communities and experiences like if they write fallible characters its bad representation while white writers can simply just not write the most abhorrent stereotypes and are praised or as said above its just let go

[sonsband]

doing resistance pushups an hour into cardio and conditioning and the girl pushing me down was like "this might sound weird but you smell sooooo good. like berries or something." so no one can tell me shit

[bunnyb34r]

They're remaking og style beanie babies and they're named after the original but with a II after 😭 like the gorilla is Bongo II 🥺 family lineage

[flowerandthesongstress]

complaints I've already seen about Coral Island, a new Indonesian kickstarter cozy game: the barman selling a ruined dish is an uncalled-for jab at restaurant workers! cats shouldn't hang out outdoors! eew, this woman shouldn't display her pregnancy stretch marks! where are all the kippot! why is everyone in such good shape! preposterous! this partially deaf character talking in caps lock is triggering me! no one in doctors without borders would be that tattooed, this dreadful representation is literal murder! no doctor would forget her paperwork at a library, for that matter! why is a japanese fisherman talking like a scottish pirate, this is inaccurate!

meanwhile in the game: I freed a stone statue from a magical underground prison and he put an enchantment on my hoe. his brother asked me if I liked figs is he flirting. my hippie boyfriend is heartbroken because his bucket-wearing pet duck is sick but shhh watching tv will heal him. last night when I talked to the outdoors cat she mentioned that she has a crippling fear of birds and thinks of getting therapy. a stem academic looks like a kpop idol and is getting enough sleep. he wears his astrophysics degree all over himself like a linguist would have worn alphabet necklaces, just to spite his dad but it's not working why is it not working ah shit it's working. mermaids hired me as a janitor. it's not pro bono I'm paid in diamonds. my neighbor is worried that his shiba inu went back to rejoin the mountain whence it came from. a turtle won't let me pass until I serve her spaghetti. I'm fighting capitalism with a literal scythe. the local blacksmith is asking my opinion regarding a legendary battle hammer and if it's worth the logistics hassle. it's been a year crabs are still dancing in celebration their zeal is admirable but their choreography could use some work. this giant monkey covered in two layers of meta wants to sell me a nostalgic souvenir. I know it because he sent me a polite letter. how many propaganda flyers can I fish out of this pond a challenge. I barged into a local lab and upended a barrel of seaweed over intricate circuitry now my flowers are five percent prettier. the scientist at the lab attached a mermish translator to my diving suit via the power of coffee. hold on I'm doing meal prep for next week let me finish putting ectoplasmic slime on okra

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Traffikrab

Debut: Cassette Beasts

Cassette Beasts is a game where one of the most common battle monsters around is a traffic-themed hermit crab creature! Isn't that wonderful? The traffic cone is not actually part of its body, but it fits oh so well, considering its traffic light-like face! I think the light is its eye, but it is possible that its angry eyebrows are actually eyestalks. Either way is good!

Another wonderful thing about Traffikrab and friends is that they are Plastic type! This game has most of the classic elemental types, along with a few fun surprises like Plastic, which probably has my favorite creatures overall. I love when fictional creatures have very artificial/created vibes! It's like these things are robots but also not at the same time!

Traffikrab can be remastered (equivalent of evolution) into a few different options...

Lobstacle is the defensive choice, and has the best name of the line! This crustacean wants to be in the way, and is good at it. It wears a construction barrel rather than a cone, and I don't think I've ever really seen construction barrels given a media spotlight, so that is very cool! Its antennae/eyebrows are now striped with caution colors with a big ol "no" sign in the middle. This is the logical extreme of a traffic hermit crab! But not the end of the concept's creativity!

Weevilite is the result of a Traffikrab remastering to a ranged attack-focused form instead, and it is my personal favorite of the two options! The traffic cone seems to have transformed into a more proper abdomen, and the focus is now on its traffic light head and neck, which is so cool! From the name and the long neck, you may recognize this as being inspired by a giraffe weevil, yet another thing I don't think I've ever seen as a monster design basis. If the light was its eye, it now has a second eye, right under the first. When people record video with their phone vertically, they're not doing it for fellow humans. They're doing it to show Weevilite!

Finally we have the most special crab of all in this game! Not a Traffikrab, but Magikrab, who inhabits a wizard's hat and has a purple eye that perhaps evokes a crystal ball! Traffic cones and wizard hats are similar things, really. Once I saw an fire hydrant gushing water, with a traffic cone on top of it. You better believe I immediately recognized it as a metal wizard casting a Water Blast Spell!

Magikrab appears throughout the game as a friendly NPC, who can talk, and is very polite and enthusiastic! It is always very happy to open up train stations for you to travel between. I wish the government was much more like this magical crustacean! Or better yet, replaced entirely by it!

[seaslugfanclub]

Hello! I just wanna say I really like your Disney Villain writings, they are funny and really cute! Can I request where the Disney villains are fighting over who is Y/N’s favorite villain? I thought it would be funny

Oooh great idea! This one was so much fun to write! (Can you tell that Honest John’s my favorite?)

No, I’m their favorite!!

————————————

No one knows how the conversation subject was brought up, but it more than ruined the villians weekly poker night. Curses filled the air and sidekicks where used as meat shields.

“I’m easily (Y/N)’s favorite person out of all of us, no- this entire park!! No one is better friends than Gaston!!” The Frenchman boasted, loose hair’s flying around his face. “They regularly compliment my physique, and they sneak me in special hair products!! There’s no room for argument!”

“Oh please frenchie, (Y/N) isn’t as daft as the other cast members. They have taste for more refined gentlemen. Like yours truly.” Captain Hook scoffed, ignoring the glares from the other villians. “Might I remind you how they gifted me the entire trilogy of ‘The History of Piracy’? Or how much they enjoy my culinary skills? They have supper with me every Tuesday.” Hook affirmed, more than confident he had bested the competition.

That was quickly interrupted by a swift *bonk* on Hooks head, Jafar looming over the ex- pirate with his staff in hand.

“While I agree with (Y/N)’s taste, it surely isn’t a cowardly captain.”

“Why you-” Hook started, only to be bonked on the head again.

“Why me? Well that’s easy, I’m a very persuasive individual. I’m able to… ‘charm’ those in upper management to give (Y/N) longer breaks, or keep any unsavory park guests from harassing our dear caretaker. (Y/N) obviously favors someone who makes their job easier.”

“Your joking right? Didn’t I see (Y/N) yell at you for 30 minutes straight because you were eyeing that princess Jasmine?” Hades chimes in, finally deciding to butt into the conversation after watching the other villians argue from the sidelines. Jafar stopped speaking, averting his eyes and mumbling.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. But c’mon guys, you know it’s ya boy here who’s (Y/N)’s number one pal.” Hades points his thumbs towards himself.

“I was one of the first people here who (Y/N) met, we knew each from day uno. I can’t count the amount of times that they’ve kept my shit-ass sun god of a brother from bugging me. And they even made the most adorable altar for me, with pomegranates and the whole works!!”

“Oh, so gauche. If it wasn’t for my expertise (Y/N) wouldn’t be half as stylish as they are. Not to mention our ‘girls nights’. I’ve opened an entire new world of skincare for them!” Cruella hissed. (Actually remembering she had to pick up (Y/N) that special cream made from horseshoe crabs)

A threadbare glove raised amidst the crowd, Honest John appearing from seemingly nowhere

“Im sorry to disappoint you all, but it’s myself who’s won (Y/N) heart. They’ve fallen for my effortless charm lock, stock, and barrel! I mean, I’ve been their nap partner countless a times, they quite enjoy cozying up to my fur.” John preened, smiling back at the memories of warm afternoons snuggled up next to (Y/N).

“Fur!? Why you little- I’ll skin you-”

“Just wait till (Y/N)-”

The poker room devolved into full out brawl, nearby cast members rushing into the room in attempt to break up the crowd. All the while, in an empty back room (Y/N) was sharing a sandwich with their guest.

“Y’know what, Ratigan?” They said between bites. “Your my best friend.”

The rat stared up at them, finishing his bite,

“…. Ew.”

[anarchywoofwoof]

yesterday, november 18 2023 was the first day in recorded history where the global 2m surface temperature exceeded 2 degrees Celsius above the 1850-1900 baseline.

the 1850-1900 period serves as a baseline for the intergovernmental panel on climate change (ipcc) primarily because it represents the pre-industrial era, just before the widespread industrialization that began in the late 19th century.

this era is important for understanding the effects of climate change because it provides a relatively stable reference point for the earth's climate system before human activities - particularly the burning of fossil fuels - began to significantly alter the composition of earth's atmosphere. therefore, this period offers some of the earliest reliable meteorological data, allowing scientists to establish a baseline climate against which current and future changes can be compared.

the last time it was close to this hot was +1.99°C above the baseline, on Feb. 28, 2016 during hottest part of El Nino

yesterday, the value was +2.01°C before the hottest part of El Nino.

the 2°C threshold is widely regarded as a critical limit beyond which climate change impacts become increasingly severe and potentially irreversible. this includes increasing extreme weather events, over time a 40~ foot sea-level rise, and massive loss of biodiversity. some of which we are seeing take place before our eyes right now, every single day. all of these headlines are from this year alone:

Ocean scientists concerned over uptick of whale deaths on Northeast coasts

Penguin Chicks Are Dying Off as Antarctic Sea Ice Disappears

More than 10 billion snow crabs starved to death off the coast of Alaska. But why?

Texas oysters in dire straits

Tens of Thousands of Dead Fish Wash Ashore on Gulf Coast in Texas

Drone footage shows millions of dead fish blanket river

Mass death of Amazonian dolphins prompts fears for vulnerable species

‘Crisis period': Dead or dying marine mammals increasingly washing up on SoCal beaches

bear in mind that this is because we're already seeing a near-average of 1.5°c warming this year. this was not expected until the year 2050. like.. it's happening now.

the 1.5°c warming threshold, which is often discussed alongside the 2°c threshold, holds its own significance in the context of climate change and the efforts to mitigate its impacts. this threshold was brought into prominence by the paris agreement, which aimed to limit global warming to well below 2°c, preferably to 1.5°c, compared to pre-industrial levels.

we have effectively blown past this barricade and are barreling toward another. the capitalist train is leaving the tracks and taking us with it.

[famousblueraincoatmp3]

weird fucking animals in the sea tier list

big fin squid. what in the actual fuck is this?

2. phronima. inspired the face hugger from alien

3. big red jellyfish (thats its scientific name....)

4. squid worm???????? wtf is this monstrosity against god? (i love it)

5. frilled shark....just why?

6. barrel eye fish. its cute i guess but it looks so sad like a renaissance painting:( hey little guy cheer up you have lots of fans x

7. chained cat shark so cool but why tf is it in our ocean

8. japanese spider crab (i love this freaking thing but even a fan like me has got to admit this looks like a dark souls boss you'll die to 500 times before looking up various elemental tactics on reddit and gamefaqs.

9. bristle worms. they are sturdy to me ♥

10. blobfish...shes not that weird to me the thing thats weird is that people apperently eat it??? but folks will eat anything i swear to god. leave it alone its just a weird guy!!!!!!!

11. goblin shark. presented with no further explination. shark evolution is so fucked man

12. sixgill shark. he's back and hes coming in hot. i love his goofy ass

13. whatever in gods green earths name this is (black swallower, shes soooo real)

14. is it a tier ranking without me bringing up 12 squids? i dont think so. this here's a vampire squid, miss, a fine specimen for sure

15. gulper eel. ???

[ugly-anarchist]

I've been seeing more posts that are like "alloaros are attacking aroaces just for existing in aro spaces" and like, we're not

There's nothing wrong with aroaces posting in aro tags or joining aro spaces or existing in general. There's nothing wrong with being aroace.

What's wrong is the fact that our voices are completely drowned out by aroaces. Oftentimes, intentionally. We are called the "extra piece" or "the addition". When we tag our posts as aspec, we're called out on it and said that's wrong. When we make posts specifically about our alloaro experiences they are tagged as aroace or asexual. When we find aromantic communities we have to ask the question "am I welcome here" and the answer is "no" a lot of the time. And even if we are "welcome" we are told to censor ourselves and our experiences for aroaces. When non-ace aros create spaces specifically for non-ace aros aroaces flood in and assume it's for them or call us acephobic for not wanting them there.

Many aroaces actively encourage the silencing of alloaros. Whether that be treating us as scapegoats and pointing to us and saying "accept us because at least we're not them!" or actively pushing us out of aromantic spaces, sometimes even spaces dedicated to non-ace aros.

You cannot shut us into a fucking closet and say "what alloaros?" then when we bust out and express our frustration go "CRAB IN A BARREL!!! WE'RE ALL IN THE SAME COMMUNITY!!! WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING US!?!"

We're not saying "fuck aroaces" or "aroaces cause all the problems we face" or anything like that. We're just pissed at the fact that even our own community, people we're supposed to relate to, fucking hate us.

Our bitterness and frustration at the way we've been treated isn't aroacephobia.

[biocrafthero]

MEMORY OF KEYS [Challenging: Success] — You say the correct openprase to get into the Storage Room. Your family comments on it, but you’ve heard it enough times that it goes in one ear and out the other.

MEMORY OF BARRELS — Maybe there’s something to be found in here! Supplies!!

MEMORY OF LOOPING — We all know there’s nothing there. Sit down please.

YOU — What about the bookshelf? I think there was something there last time I was here.

MEMORY OF MEMORIES [Formidable: Success] — You pick up a book and start leafing through it to check. The words on the pages are giving you a headache, but you can understand them.

YOU — There we go! Found it again. We should probably share this with everyone.

MEMORY OF FAMILY [Medium: Failure] — Your words catch in your throat as you go to ask everyone if they’d like to hear it. Never mind…

YOU — Maybe we can memorize the book for later?

MEMORY OF KEYS [Trivial: Failure] — You can only remember so much at one time.

YOUR DAGGER — I’m getting bored of this. Can we do something more exciting?

MEMORY OF SADNESSES — Me too, let’s do something more fun!

MEMORY OF VICTORY — Like beating the King again!!

MEMORY OF KNIFEKEY — Yeah!!

MEMORY OF BOMB — YEAH!!!!!

MEMORY OF DEFEAT — I’d rather not…

MEMORY OF FISHING — But we can go back to Dormont afterwards! Maybe talk to Loop again? Maybe something else?

MEMORY OF LOOPING [Easy: Success] — Shut the crab up we all know what you want to do

YOU — Stars, can you all be quiet please??

LOOP — Hey, Stardust! What seems to be taking you so long?

YOU — It’s nothing.

MEMORY OF KEYS [Trivial: Success] — You put the book back on the shelf.

MEMORY OF PILLARS — Let’s check for some more traps before we have to go. You can never be too careful.

MEMORY OF FAMILY — Maybe there’s something else we can do on this loop while we’re here?

YOUR DAGGER — Might as well loop now… it doesn’t really matter…

MEMORY OF TOUCH [Godly: Success] — I know what to do.

[chimerahyperfix]

You are a scientist. You like testing theories, making hypothesis. Working with dangerous materials that get you scolded. You are a scientist, and you are also a writer! You’ve swung at a few things before: sappy poems, work papers, crab, you’ve even attempted a horror short at Mirabelle’s inquiry. You’re favorite thing to write, though, are just basic letters.

You like to write letters. It's easier, to you, to write your thoughts on a piece of paper and hide it somewhere the recipient can find than to tell them what you think face-first. You’ve done it for years, long before you even came to the House to learn about the Change religion. A childhood habit that’s rolled over through your life like a wave on the sea.

So, of course, when time begins to loop, you write. Many, many letters. They all get lost to time when it twists back, and now, many loops in, that leaves a hole in your heart and a spot in your brain you can’t itch, for the words of each letter are mostly forgotten before you fight the King. It’s… fine, you guess? You can word things as many ways as you need to. Anything described can be described some more, after all.

For the first handful of loops, you wrote the same letters. Rather sappy, lovey things, your specialty. The furthest depths of your heart smeared onto a page for eternity, for you love and love and love, and you want those around you to know it.

Though as time trudges on, the same twenty four hours over and over in a nice single circuit built for it to run through, built by wishes and stars and twisted leaf-baring branches, so do your thoughts; therefore your letters move so, too, to adapt. More theoretical things. Questions. Ifs, ands ors buts and whys. Sadder ones after the bad loops, wailing and endlessly upset and mourning those who froze and those who were killed for standing in the King's way.

They get angrier as time goes on. More enraged. Wrath melts into the corners, edges fold and tear and warp under the weight. You stop delivering them, because you're here in this time loop hell to protect the ones you love, and you'd just make it worse if you gave them a letter like that.

You write a scathing letter, once. You write it after an absolutely abysmal loop, ending with blood and tears and probably the loudest you've ever screamed. It flows onto the page easily, and you leave it out on your desk, because you were hungry and hadn't eaten that loop with how beside yourself stressed you were.

Mirabelle finds it. Asks you, quite worried, if you're okay. You must've said something, and it had to be bad, because she flinched away from you like you'd tried to light her ablaze.

You panicked. Time looped.

Never again.

You hide them, after that. Shoved in your pillowcases or in piles of books, stacks of other papers. In the barrels. When you write only one or two you shove them in a bottle and push them to the back of your potions.

You're a shedding snake, a leopard changing its spots. Time is your prisoner and you are it's, and that melts into you as a human being until you are flesh and blood and twenty four hours that shouldn't continue.

Words spill from you, your mind, onto the page. You don't read them anymore. Just write and write and write, and tuck them away and pray no one finds them. You long for the days you could sit and write sappy love letters-- and sometimes, you still do them, but they're tinged with something, regret or rage or the absolute despair you feel, they're wrong, so they're tucked away as well. Letters just wrong, noticeably so. You’d be asked what’s wrong. Cornered. You can hear it now, “What’s wrong? What does this mean?” And all you can think of is the horrors you’ve seen.

One of these loops, whenever you get out, you expect to have a pile of ramblings with time-burnt letters and tear-stained edges. Whenever you get out, if there are any, you'll burn them. As a rite of passage, or something. A Change. Because time changed you, and the less people have to know about it the better. You can't get rid of your rotten voice or the tiredness in your bones or the way your brain has twisted to think, but you CAN get rid of letters.

You like to write. The horrors you write, of twisted time and dying and what being frozen in time is like— it can go. No one needs to know. No one WILL know. It’ll all fall on you, like every other crabbing thing in the time loops. And that’s okay, it’s enough.

[pearlwithgirl]

Wordless Conversations

John Price x gn!reader

Fluffy fluff - 1200 words

(a subtle hint of smut, but in the way that a La Croix seems like it has been flavoured by sitting in the same room as a strawberry)

~

A syrupy sweet drabble about words spoken without the need for speech.

It’s hard not to stare. The late summer glow slides across the expanse of your property, and John is leaned up against a quaintly crooked fence post, knitting his brow in mild exertion. Cushioned muscle draws your eye as he lifts his shirt to wipe the soil and dew off his face. He always loves a sun shower, gentle sheets of rain dyed golden by a low-hanging sun.

He’s harvested the last of the herbs and vegetables for tonight’s dinner - leeks, potatoes, sweetcorn, and dill. They’ll meld together so nicely, mellow and hearty as the whitefish flakes apart on your tongue. He’ll melt into his chair after polishing off the soup (an old family recipe) and give you a warm look, eyes crinkling, hand on his belly. The expression will say “This is just what I needed. This - and you.”

You’re busy getting a head start on dessert, fragrant steam from bubbling berries curling through the air in a saccharine wisp. Sweetened red currants, loganberries, and crab apples stew before you as John pops a cherry tomato into his mouth. The fruit will pair well with chilled cream and buttery shortcake - dessert with a nightcap before you meet in the shower and tumble into bed together. 

John’s face smooths out and he smiles as he watches Laska dart over patches of clover and between berry bushes - she’s always chasing butterflies. He snacks on a few pilfered strawberries as he reclines against the cedar planks, crossing his legs in front of him. Your pup playfully bows before she leaps into the air once again, arcing gracefully before barrelling into John’s side. He ruffles her fur as she wiggles in his lap and his laugh rings out above the tinny sound of the heirloom radio. 

You remember this song. So does he. The melody wafts through the window and he turns to face you, illuminated by tinted shafts of sunlight and whirling fractals cast out by the stained glass rim above your swimming head. Those strong brows quirk up and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you are.

“Remember that night in Copenhagen?” He asks you silently, grin turning sentimental and wry. 

Of course you remember. That’s where it all began - on glistening cobblestones outside of a cafe from a past life. Somehow, his eyes light up even more as your face grows dreamy, and that sarky smile goes saccharine - syrupy sweet.

You’ll never grow tired of that look. It says “You are my sunshine, my favourite thing in the world,” “You and I - it’s as easy as breathing,” “I miss you,” even though you’ve been apart for scantly more than a single chime of the clock. A lazy grin peels across your face and you catch a gentle quake in his shoulders.

He takes you in, chuckles, and brings two fingers up to tap his nose. - “You’ve got a little something right here, sweetheart.” 

Your face heats up as you wipe the smear off your face and suck the vanilla-speckled sweet cream from your thumb. You savour the little honeyed cloud, and with a tilt of your head, you beckon him toward the house.

It’s funny, isn’t it? The extensive communication that happens without a single utterance - hidden meanings and professions flowing easily over crags and cobbles that would have been hindrances for a pair less bonded. 

To others, he may come off as coarse or abrasive, while you could be glinting, sharp - but you’re nothing more than frosted sea glass to each other. Rare finds - blushing rose and stormy violet. You’ve smoothed each other’s edges, found yourselves moulded seamlessly to one another. 

Sweet words are shared in abundance, vocalized, but they’re not necessary much of the time. The two of you have learned to move in tandem, to have conversations with heated looks, gentle hands, vice versa, and everything in between.

“I need you, John,” as you walk through the door, face steeped in sorrow, little diamonds clinging to your lashes and tumbling down your cheeks.

“I’ve got you - I’ll always take care of you, sweetheart,” as he wraps you up in his arms and rocks you back and forth, rain playing a staccato lullaby while he cradles your head right next to his heartbeat.

“You’re mine,” in the midnight umbra, where heated breaths are exchanged and swallowed up greedily. 

“You fit so perfectly into my arms,” as he cages you in, bracketing you in between bulky forearms. You feel it again when he draws you in close, head tucked neatly under his chin, sleepy and satisfied.

“You are my comfort, my safety, my home,” while you blink slowly up at him, lashes fluttering around dripping adoration.

“You are the joy of my life,” as he levels you with a look of reverence and a mouth full of cake, legs touching under the table. Every hellish moment you’ve endured together holds nothing more than the weight of a papercut in comparison to the magnitude of what you feel for each other, what you've built. 

You delay the post-dinner cleanup so you can sway back and forth in the timber swing out back. With Laska tucked under one arm and you under the other, he downs the last sip of rhubarb cider, enjoying the view beside him in lieu of the remnants of rainbow and sunset. You know this expression too - better than any other. It paints a more colourful image than the one on the horizon. It holds memories, devotion, proclamations, and vows. He wore the same look on your wedding day - a strawberry-sweet smile and glassy eyes to go with the rosy pocket square from Copenhagen. 

After the dishes are done (he washes, you dry), you linger under the arch of the threshold, finger stalled over the brass switch as you look around the room. Your nostalgia-laden gaze roves from John’s grandmother’s old pie plates to the moss green tiles he installed around the picture window. Trinkets are scattered across the hearth, a lovely landscape filled with photos of found family and homemade knits and ceramics. Every bit and bauble, down to the simplest fruit-stained recipe card, has been carefully curated and cherished over years of blissful benediction. You think you’ve found heaven on Earth, and it’s not a place - it’s him.

He slings an arm around your middle and you rub a soothing thumb over his hand, leaning back into the crook of his neck. Your eyes fall shut as he presses his lips to the crown of your head. There’s a shared sentiment in your mutual touch.  

“Thank you for giving me this life.” 

You exhale in unison, shimmying around to face him, placing a palm on his cheek. His larger hand eclipses yours, and the expression on his face goes downy-soft. Right now, his baby blues hold your favourite look of all. It flickers warm and bright, comforting and exhilarating all at once, and it’s mirrored in your own half-lidded eyes. You know exactly what it means - it flavours every interaction and perfumes the room along with viridian herbiness and the sweet tang of berries. 

Three little words hang softly in the air as you flick the light off and stride down the hall hand-in-hand.

[ocean-sunfish-hater]

Hi,

I saw your post about barrel bugs and I wanted to ask if you know more interesting marine parasites?

(Personally I think that dendrogasters are quite cool)

Dendrogasters are pretty cool! I don't know much about them but they look really... odd.

ID: a picture of Dendrogaster showing its unsual body plan, with its branching structures that end in spherical growths. It is light yellow to orange in colour. It is set against a black background and part of a ruler can be seen.

There's a whole host (haha) of interesting marine parasites, and I won't go through all of them now but here's a few that you might like.

Rhizocephala are a parasitic group of barnacles that live on crabs. They have no internal organs except gonads, a few muscles and the remnants of a nervous system. In fact, their only distinguishable bodyy structure is the female reproductive organs, which sit outside of its host's body. Here's a really cool drawing of the filaments which it sends out into its host's body to absorb nutrients directly from their blood:

ID: a black and white drawing of a crab infected with the parasite Rhizocephala. It shows the underside of the crab with the externa (female gonads) visible and a network of filaments that the parasite has grown throughout the host body.

I'm sure you've heard of tongue lice, so I won't labour the point too much, but spark notes is that they attach to the gill arches or tongue of a fish, then cut off the circulation to the tongue so that it withers off. It then replaces the fish's tongue.

ID: an image of a tongue eating louse inside a fish's mouth. The louse is pale, almost white in colour and has two black eyes. The fish is like :O

Finally, this isn't a marine parasite but you'll see why I include it in a second, but the tongue worms (not to be confused with the tongue eating louse). They are actually terrestrial and mostly infect the respiratory tracts of vertebrates (sometimes, though very rarely, us). What I find interesting is that they have no circulatory, excretory or respiratory organs and rely soley on the host to do all these things. Isn't that cool?

ID: a drawing of a tongue worm (Pentastomida). It has a segmented body that ends in a point. At the other end there are 4 stubby limb-like structures.

If you're still reading , you might be wondering why I picked these ones and why the tongue worm is awkwardly shoved in there? Because @chowaniec I have tricked you; this is not a post about marine parasites, it's a post about the diversity of crustaceans. THAT'S RIGHT, ALL OF THESE ANIMALS, WITH THEIR WEIRD LIFE CYCLES AND UNCRUSTACEANY BODIES ARE COUSINS OF CRABS AND SHRIMP AND LOBSTERS. AND THAT INCLUDES YOUR ORIGINAL SUBMISSION OF DENDROGASTER, WHICH IS WHAT GAVE ME THIS IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE.

All of these lil guys just have highly specialised bodies that have lost many of the features we associate with crustaceans so that they can be better parasites. It's really only though careful analysis of their lifecycles and genetics that we can even determine them to be crustaceans at all.

I wanted to showcase the immense diversity of crustaceans and the weird and wonderful flexiblity of evolution. I also wanted to show you why morphological criteria for classification fall short, even beyond the "coconuts are mammals" meme.

Thanks for the submission, and thanks for being patient with me! I know this one took a little while longer to receive but I hope it was worth it.