#Peaceful Pasture Art

[funnyartprintsnow]

Serene Sheep Print - Tranquil Pasture Art, Peaceful Farm Landscape, Rustic Home Decor, Countryside Wall Art

[esmartworld]

Serene Countryside Landscape

This digital artwork depicts a peaceful and idyllic countryside scene. The image features a gradual transition from a serene blue sky to a lush, green grassy field, with three small buildings or structures scattered throughout the landscape. The use of linear gradients and simple geometric shapes results in a visually appealing and calming environment. Created By EsmArt!

https://www.zazzle.com/serene_countryside_landscape_picture_ledge-256835275698698328

[theblueflower05]

Mi Ti’ong(In Bloom)

A/N: Usually I try to keep my readers pretty ambiguous so that everyone can envision themselves, but this ones gonna be a little more distinct. If that isnt your jam, please dont read! No use of Y/N. Reader nicknamed Flora. Based on the character from Winx Club! And this art!

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Size difference kink.Mature Language. Smut. Overstimulation. Oral sex(female receiving) Neteyams a munch, it’s canon now.

Summary: Neteyam can have anyone and yet he only wants you. A small human who can usually be found among the flowers. Neteyam x Human! Reader

Sugar, honey, iced tea. Bumble bee on the scene.

Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie, ugh!

-See You Again, Tyler the Creator.

The forest is alive, the beating heart of Eywa felt in each and every leaf among the trees.

Every glowing piece of flora and fauna, every creature whose calls echo through the vastness.

This time of year is special and it's as though it is known. Deeply and primitively by all. The rains had come and gone, nearly a month of bruised skies that had bogged down the village and its daily life.

But as they always do the skies cleared, and the sun made its reappearance. Glittering and glimmering- triple rainbows breaking out in kaleidoscope like figurations. Beaming down with all of it’s warmth and vitality.

The earth is well fed and fertile, the soil rich and blooming with new life.

It’s that new life that brings the talioang(water buffalo like beasts) back. The creatures return in great migrations to the lush pastures of sweet new grasses to have their babies. The fish swim upstream, battling the roaring rivers, to spawn. The fruit hangs heavy and ripe in the trees. All around there is nothing but full bellies and joy.

This period of abundance is the Great Mother’s gift to her children.

It had always been Neteyam’s favorite time of the year.

Everything lush and bursting with life, the excitement a low constant hum amongst the tribe. The Great Hunt is coming and his father had given him the okay to take lead.

In his nineteen years, he had never been appointed with so much responsibility.

Jake tells him it will all be fine, nothing but easy smiles. This will be good. A fantastic way to show the clan that he’s ready to take on the title of Olo’eyktan once his father steps down. Although he manages to keep is calm and cool demeanor in public, he’s so fucking nervous he can barley function.

It’s why he’s here, trudging through the branches.

The village is buzzing with excitement. Everyone wants a moment of his time, their voices overlap as they wish him good luck.

Question his competence as head of the hunt.

Subliminally hint that hunters twice his age have never gotten the chance to do what has been so freely handed to him.

Remind him that their daughters are pretty. Unmated. Makes the best steamed Teylu. Are fertile and willing to give him strong children-

Fuck.

The moment he could, he’d slipped away. Disappeared into the foliage and had booked it deep into the trees, desperate for a moment alone. For a moment of silence and the peace of being away from prying eyes.

He doesn't even really know where he’s going.

Only that he just needs to be away. If only for an hour. He needs to recharge his ever draining social battery, to get his head on straight before tomorrow's hunt.

Neteyam has always performed his best under pressure.

Things that made others balk and cower ignited something in him. A need to fight. To prove himself- it’s not the prospect of high adrenaline and stampeeding hooves that makes him squirm. It’s all of the attention its garnering.

He know’s fully well that being the next Olo’eyktan means that attention comes with the territory. But that doesnt mean the thought of everyones focus on him doesnt make his indigo skin crawl.

He’s leaping aimlessly between vines when he remembers his sisters earlier proposition.

“Come with me and Flora to the watering hole today! The waterfalls are so pretty during this season- We’re going to go swimming!”

It’d been tempting this morning, and now it is even more so. He could use a dip in the cool waters and Kiri was always an ear to vent to when he got overwhelmed. He’d clear head and then leave-

He wouldn't get stuck staring at you.

Again,

No.

He can't pinpoint exactly when this happened.

It was like one night you were just another human at the Outpost. Another familiar alien face he’d grown up around. Just like Spider you’d stuck close with the Sully children. Your cheeks always flushed beneath your exo-mask and your fingernails always dirty and caked with mud from the hours and hours you’d spend tending to any and all plants that came in your line of vision. You were always so soft. Too soft for his liking sometimes. You’d cry at just about anything whether it be one of those old Tawtute movies the scientists played at the lab or the sight of an injured shimmyfly.

And then suddenly gone was that snotty, teary little girl he’d always known. And in her place was…you. A woman grown. Beautiful and bold- and there was strength in your softness now. You’d proved him wrong so many times- made it clear that you weren't another responsibility he’d have to shoulder-

“I can take care of myself, Neteyam” you’d insisted, never letting him carry your heavy baskets or tend to your scraped knees.

It’s maddening, the way that you shrug off any and all of his advances drives him fucking insane.

Neteyam approaches the secluded bank of the watering hole that his family loves best slowly, keeping in the treeline. Just out of sight. Just like he’d expected he finds you and Kiri on the familiar sands. Kiri is lounging in the sun, eyes closed and humming a pleasant tune to herself-oblivious to anything around her. He’d have to chastise her about her complete lack of situational awareness later.

You’re knee deep in the lake- tending to the water lilies that grow close to shore. Your back is to him but he bets your nose is all scrunched up, just like it always is when you’re around anything green and growing. His eyes drink you in greedily. All of your sun kissed skin is on display in the tiny faded pink panties you don for swimming.

He’d never found humans particularly pretty before you. The intense differences in their bodies had never appealed to him-

But Eywa, are you something to look at.

Time had been kind to you, and as you’d grown your body had morphed into something goddess like. You’re a real looker, his father had claimed. Would’ve been a total knockout back on Earth.

You’re all plush curves. Your breasts are pert and sit like rip hanging fruit on your chest, your hips wide and thighs jiggly and thick. And your waist…he’s sure if he put his much larger hands around them, his fingers could touch. He could cage you in his hold.

That thought has him biting his tongue, hard enough to taste metallic. You turn a bit, your laughter chiming over the glittering water like soft wind at some dry joke Kiri made.

Your hair color is light, lighter than any Na’vi’s and falls down around your shoulders in thick waves. He can only make out the side of your face but your full lips are pulled into a coy smile and your light jade eyes sparkle and all hell. Neteyam is so gone on you.

You’re like nothing he’s seen and definitely nothing he’s had.

And since his Iknimaya he’s had his first pick of the women of the clan.

He’s tasted passionate huntresses and flexible dancers alike and none of them satiate his thirst. None of them are able to replicate what he can only imagine you might taste like. It’s almost pathetic how many women he’s had and how many times he’s almost called out your name as he emptied his seed.

Neteyam’s more discreet about his romps than his brother, that’s for sure- but still. It’s a known fact that he’s an unmated male at his prime and that comes with a certain appetite. He can have anyone he wants, any Omatikayan woman would be glad to spend a night with him.

Yet somehow he’s lurking, hiding in the bush. Watching you longingly. Simpering like a pre-teen and pining over the way that the sunlight plays in the strands of your hair.

He shakes himself from his embarrassing reverie.

No one would be able to tell that just moments before he’d been debating on stroking his cock to just the sight of you, lurking in the trees like a creep. No. As he approaches its with his head held high and a sharp smile on his handsome smile.

“Brother!” Kiri grins, sitting up once she clocks him.

“What are you girls up to?” Neteyam greets. Cool as a cucumber.

“Nothing much, just been here since dawn. The waters so high this year!” Kiri picks up a fruit from beside her, peeling at its tender meat “everyone’s been out here today-on the other side, but no one knows how to get to this spot so we’ve had the beach all to ourselves”

You’re coming in from the lapping shore, beaming at him “Look at all the paysul(waterlily) that’ve bloom! I’ve never seen this many- isn't it amazing?”

“They are very beautiful. The rains were hard this year. I’m surprised the flooding wasn't worse” Neteyam tries not to focus on how tiny your chest covering- the bra as you call it- is. He turns his attention to his sister instead.

“Where’s Tuk, I cant believe she’d miss a chance to swim with you guys”

“She’s with mom, stuck on weaving duty since she tore grandma’s favorite tapestry” Kiri snorts because her baby sister had thrown a complete fit when she had been told she couldn't come “What about you? I thought you we’re too busy to hang out with the likes of us”

“I was able to make a little time for my favorite girls” Neteyam jests, amused by your eye roll and Kiri’s scoff “Plus, Lo’ak told me you need some humbling. Seems you forgot who’s the best diver in the family”

“Oh, you’re on, Teylupil(penis face/dick head)”

After stripping down to only his cloth, his cumberband and com left on shore, he slips into the cool refreshing water with a pleased “Ah”. Enjoying the gentle current against his skin-only to be tacked under the surface by Kiri and all of her bony lanky limbs moments later.

The sun soaked afternoon is filled with laughter and splashing. It’s exactly what he needs.

The three of you play in the river like children. Neteyam and Kiri go at it like the always do- careful to be gentle with your smaller form as you join in. It’s easy to forget the looming pressure of the hunt while he’s jumping from the rushing waterfalls and racing his sister, discreetly preening when he wins and you cheer him on with little claps.

Eventually you all tire.

Kiri floats on the water and goes to that place in her head that she so often does. Completely at peace to be surrounded by nature. She claims it’s when she can best hear Eywa.

Neteyam keeps a bit of an eye on her to make sure she doesn't randomly fall asleep again. Hoping she’d have the sense to get back to the beach before that happened.

Water floods his face and goes right up his nose.

His head snaps to you, spluttering and wiping at his eyes, “What the hell?”

You just giggle innocently before disappearing beneath the surface.

Neteyam’s tail flicks with interest.

He decides to let you get your little head start. His heart speeds up with the promise of a hunt before he starts his chase.He might be bigger then you but you're quick and slippery. Your mask giving you the advantage of not having to come up for air like he does.

When he grabs your ankle, so sure he’s got you, you all but kick him in the face to get away.

You little shit.

Fine.

If you want to play dirty, then he’s game.

He allows you to think you have a chance. That you may be winning the little game. You’re heading for the waterfall, planning to hide behind it.

He’s bigger and more trained than you could ever hope to be.

It only takes one well planned move and you’re done.

He yanks a hold of you, secure. He holds you then, your back against his chest and his strong muscle corded arms wrapped around you from behind before propelling the both of you through the pounding waterfall and into the small, closed off cave behind it.

“Neteyam!” You whine, squirming in his hold like a fish and he just laughs because honestly. He can barely feel it. You’re trying to escape with all his might and he’s holding you the way he might hold a child throwing a tantrum.

He leans in close, burying his face in your wet hair, close to your ear “I win, Sylaung(flower)”

He feels you shiver in his arms and it just makes him hold you tighter. He could keep you like this forever, if you’d only let him. Instead he can feel without you even saying so how hesitant you feel about this

“I think I deserve a prize” he pushes on even further and you give him a confused, side ways look. He so graciously allows you to turn in his hold until your chests meet, face to face.

“Like what?” you wonder and you’re too cute. You’re looking up at him, struggling to treading water with your smaller legs- Neteyam lifts you higher, until you’re bracing your hands on his broad shoulders and he’s holding you above the current. Supporting you totally.

“Well what can you give?” His inquiry is almost condescending and you shrug.

“I’m fresh out of gold stars” you tease and he barks out a laugh. Do you think he can't tell? That he can't see the way your cheeks flush and your pulse hammers beneath the delicate skin of your throat?

“What about a kiss” he offers offhandedly and your face scrunches up in a glare automatically.

“You don't want to?...”

“Why do you make fun of me like this, Neteyam” It’s not often he hears your voice this hard, soured by embarrassment and self doubt.

“I’m not making fun of you” he insists with a sigh “I don't know why you always say that. When have I ever given you the impression that I’d do that?”

You won't meet his gaze. Your green eyes flick, anywhere but on him. Zeroing somewhere behind his back. All too interested on the rocky cave wall.

“If it wasn't for this damned mask” Neteyam husks, low and sincere “I’d kiss you right now”

Even still, you don't seem convinced. Won't look at him until he takes your face in his hand, his fingers gentle but insistent. They grip the mask at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Why don't you believe me?”

“I’m nothing like the Omatikaya women you’ve been with” you say plainly like it's so obvious. Like it's a problem.

“I know”

“You didn't even like me growing up. You thought I was annoying”

“That isn't true-”

“It is” you insist haughtily “you’d make fun of me for talking to my plants”

He doesn't mean to laugh, really he doesn't. It’s not the time for it and it just pisses you off even more. He doesn't let you out of his arms even when you swat at him. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think it’s very sweet the way you talk to your plants. I want you to talk to me just like that, please”

That earns him a little giggle and he feels very pleased with himself.

You play with his hair often, most times it's mindless. A way to distract yourself. Your small deft fingers twirl along his adorned braids. He craves the scritch of your manicured nails on his scalp.

“How do you want me to kiss you? If I have my mask on” The interest in your hair is only just veiled. Your attempt at being nonchalant fails.

“Hmm” Neteyam feigns thinking, face screwed up “I think I could come up with a few ideas”

A few thousand more like it. You were the star of all of his fantasies. You, twisted and contorted into positions that would surely make you blush. You, with your mouth hanging slack in pleasure. Screaming his name-

But you hadnt agreed to that. You only, just barely, agreed to let him kiss you.

When he leans in its slow. Slow enough to give you time to push him away.

The waterfall roars in the background, white noise, but even it can't drown out the thunderous beating of your frantic heart.

Then his lips are pressed against your throat, gulping in the sweet scent of you. He cant kiss your mouth, but he can kiss the sweet, smooth column of your neck. Your clavicle. Your quivering shoulders. The heavy flesh of your breast. His kisses are open mouthed, his rough textured tongue dragging over your skin, leaving saliva trails in their wake-

You gasp sharpley when drags the skimpy fabric of your bra down so he can get at your pebbled nipple. He’s just about to suckle, when the moment is broken.

“Guys! Where’d you go?!”

It’s Kiri. Obviously awake from her nap like meditation time.

Your eyes go comically wide and Neteyam reluctantly releases you. Not wanting to get caught with an armful of pretty, half naked human. He’s thankful for the cold water and the way that he can hide the hardness tenting his tweng.

He catches you by the wrist before you can dip beneath the falls-

“We’re not done here, Sylaung” the promise leaves his lips fevor laced and full of heat.

You can only gulp and nod dazed, “I still owe you a kiss” your sweet voice reminds, before you’re ducking back under the water.

Leaving him dazed and buzzing for a moment before he gets it together and follows.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days later he still hasn't gotten his prize.

Although he’s celebrated by his clan, praised for his successful hunt, he feels like something is missing.

The Harvest Season and its celebrations are well underway. Every night there's dancing and singing around the large bonfires we’re fragrant spiced tailong meat roasts. Neteyam is highly decorated; feathers adorn his freshly braided hair and he's donned his most ornate cumberband. He’s hauntingly handsome

Spider and Lo’ak are sat near the main fire, laughing heartily and sharing a leather gourd full of liquor between themselves.

Spider’s obviously drunk and eyeing Kiri hungerly as she dances with Tuk- he’d never do that sober. Not with Neytiri so near. Lo’ak is lounged out, an attractive female in his lap. She giggles madly at whatever filth his little brother whispers in her twitching ear.

Jealousy bubbles acidicly in Neteyam’s belly and again, he wonders where you are. Why you arent here, in his lap. Letting him woo you.

He figures he’ll have to go to you then, if you won't come to him.

First thing to do is find you.

“Hey, Spider!” the human man is the best place to start. Spider’s eyes are glassy under his mask and still. His friend is excited to see him, greets him with a hand shake and a small hug.

“Neteyam, man! Where have you been all night?”

“Around, you know how it is” Neteyam shrugs, sitting sown on the log, accepting the gourd and taking a swig of the thick sticky sap inside. It burns all the way down.

“This partys essentially for him- I’m surprise you we’re able to get away from dad” Lo’ak shit-talks, like he always does. It’s good natured for the most part “I thought he might throw you a parade or something. Call in the clans-”

“Fuck you, man” Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head at Lo’aks theatrics. “Don't be jealous”

“Jealous of dad? Nah” Lo’ak “Now the women you’re getting? That I might be jealous of”

“Hey!” the girl in his lap, a weaver from a modest family, squrims, pinching at his shoulder “You’ve got all the woman you need for the night, sayrip”

She squeals when Lo’ak squeezes her tight around her middle and blows wet raspberry kisses into her neck.

Neteyam just rolls his eyes and shares a little look with Spider. By the next eclipse, Lo’ak wouldve moved on. He has a knack for loving and leaving.

“Why arent you out there, bro? I saw Amitsa giving you the eyes! She’s so hot and she doesnt ever give anyone the time of day” Spider juts his chin and sure enough. The woman is giving Neteyam longing looks from across the fire. She’s a pretty thing and her sultry voice is renowned in the tribe. He’d be lying if he said he wasnt attracted to her “You’re not gonna go try to get at that?”

No. He’s not.

“Uh” Neteyam scratches the back of his neck “I was actually looking for Flora, I havent been able to find her around lately”

Of course, that sets of a exactly what he knows it would.

His brothers are assholes and have teased his merciesly since discovering his obsessive crush. Spider knocks his much smaller shoulder against Neteyam’s and Lo’ak hoots with laughter.

“How someone can be pussy whipped for pussy they haven't even had is beyond me” Lo’ak snorts and Neteyam gives him a warning growl, his lips snarled up.

It’s nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Lo’ak finds it endlessly amusing that Neteyam had his eye on you, the tiny human he’d grown up so lukewarm about. It had always been his siblings; Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk that were close with you growing up. Neteyam had never shown a speck of interest until your figure had grown curvy and supple-

“Piss off, I wasn’t asking you” Neteyam gives his best big brother stare down. His golden eyes hard and unimpressed before looking to Spider, hairless brows raised “You know where I could find her?”

“Listen man, she said wasn’t interested in hanging out with anyone tonight” the human man starts with a sigh and Neteyam’s growl is low and warning “-but I’m sure you can find her where she always is”

Neteyam wracks his brain for a moment “The Greenhouses?”

“Bingo” Spider nods, an almost sympathetic look in his eye as he watches Neteyam jump to his feet and set off.

Lo’ak sniggers and the girl in his lap scoffs and mutters something about “shameful, being that twisted up about a tawtute” but Spider says nothing.

Instead his plixr hazed eyes focus on the figure dancing close to the firelight. Kiri lets out a twinkling laugh at something Tuk says and yeah. Spider understands Neteyam. He understands being completely obsessed with something you’ve never had.

Instead of taking a note from his much braver brother, he lifts his mask and takes another shot of the acidic syrup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Neteyam could make the trek through the forest to Hells Gate in his sleep..

He’d spent a good chunk of his childhood retracing these exact steps, headeded for the familiar concrete fortress that made up the last human outpost on Pandora.

Neteyam had always been far too similar to his mother, for countless reasons. But his distaste for everything industrial was one of the main reasons. As he got older he spent less and less time here. Couldnt be found in the cold echoing hallways like Lo’ak and the girls coul

But even he could admit.

There’s something beautiful about the Greenhouses.

With their dome like structure, the big glass buildings are a fortress for the humans. Inside they’re as hot and humid as the Pandoran rainforests- but circulating Earth air so that the fruits and vegetables that are native to Terra Firme can grow, even on this alien planet.

Neteyam makes his way inside, plugging in the codes into the keypad and letting himself in through the pressurized doors that slide closed right behind him. His eyes are peeled, taking in all of the foreign greenery, hoping to catch a flash of tanned skin or light hair in the cracks between trees.

The Greenhouses are huge. There’s orchards of apples and oranges and long deep garden beds full of root vegetables. Enough to feed the Hell’s Gate settlement throughout the year, to trade with the People of the Omaticaya.

No matter, he’s a blooded hunter after all.

He hones in on that training as he tracks your path. Your footprints along the cement floor are light, and really you barely leave any trace of yourself at all. You float along with light steps and Neteyam truly thinks if you had been born one of the People you would’ve made a fine huntswoman-

He finds you in the shade of the orange trees. You’re up on a stool, gathering the plump fruit and humming a pleasant little tune.

You’re ethereal in artificial sunlight.

You’re something out of the books that Norm used to read to them when they were kids. His favorite had been the one about the boy who would never grow up and the island of Neverland. And the tiny golden dust covered pixi that flitted from page to page.

A fairy.

A being not quite real. Too gentle and feminine to exist.

He likes the tawtute clothes you wear. The small top that clings to your breasts like a second skin and the flowy patterned skirt. Of course if it was up to him you’d only ever wear the garments of the People- or even better, Nothing at all.

You reach too high, strained up on your tippy toes and Neteyam feels irrational fear at that. At all of your delicate skin and breakable neck-

He’s beside you in an instant and he doesn't need a ladder to reach the high hanging fruit you’d been struggling for. He grabs the fruit with one hand while the other stabilizes you, his big palm spread out across the small of your back.

You gasp at his warm touch. Your head snapping in his direction and legs going wobbly.

“Neteyam!”

“Flora” He sighs as he urges you down from the ladder, takes the heavy bucket of fruit from your hands “You really do need to be more careful”

You splutter for a moment, still shocked at his sudden arrival “I- ugh! I was fine!” you insist haughtily “It’s not like I don't do this all of the time. You didn't need to come help me, I can manage perfectly fine on my own”

“Need to help you?” Neteyam cocks his head a bit.

“Yeah…I mean. Why else would you be here?” you ask, scratching awkwardly at your arm for a moment “Tonight's the celebration. You really should be back with the clan-”

“As should you” He cuts you off firmly. Not liking the way that you’re trying to separate yourself from the tribe. From him “I have not seen you for days. Do you not want to feast with our people?”

You sigh, looking away from him. Biting at that plump ever pink bottom lip of yours. Always shy, he knows he needs to bring you out of your shell. You’ll find a way to run away from him again if he doesn't.

“I didnt come here to help you” Neteyam admits because he’s selfish and because you’re too beautiful. Even more so, since you’ve been hiding from him. Avoiding his attention.

“Oh really?” you’re not coy by nature but there's something in your eyes. In the way you’re looking up at him “Then what are you here for?”

“My kiss”

Your pupils expand, just the tiniest bit but he can see it. He can see it all. Every inch of your pretty face, unbridled by that cumbersome mask you usually are forced to don. He can see every freckle and blemish- and the way that a blush creeps across the apples of your cheeks.

“A deals a deal” Neteyam insists at the prolonged silence. At your nervous flicking gaze.

“Okay” is your sweet reply and he can only stare at your plump lips. A man with one thing and one thing only on his mind.

You don't protest when he reaches for you. When his big hands go around your waist and tug slowly until he’s enveloping you in his chest. You fit so perfectly, right under his sternum. Stare up at him with wide eyes that flutter closed the closer he inches his face towards yours.

The kiss is wet and electric and Neteyam wants to eat you whole.

Any awkwardness that comes from the size difference is soon overcome by the desire that simmers between you. You let him lead, always so willing to go with whatever flow he may give. Let him nip at your delicate bottom lip until he can almost taste the metallic twang of blood. Let him stick his much bigger tongue into your warm mouth, and then down your constricting throat.

As you make little gasping choking sounds, he imagines it's his huge pulsing cock stealing the air from your lungs instead.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, as he trails kisses down your soft jaw. He cant stop, wants to taste you everywhere. Every inch of skin. He know it must be overwhelming- if your heaving breaths and mewls are anything to go by, he knows you’re feeling every inch of the mind spinning need that he is.

Still,

No matter how much he gropes at you with rough hands and drags spit soaked kisses over your neck and chest, youre so good for him. Such a good girl. Holding on for any ride he might take you on. Your fingers twined in his silky braids arent there to push him away, but to pull him closed.

When he grasps you by the back of your thighs and hoists- you wrap your legs around his slim waist, your ankles hooking at his lower back.

The helpless noise you make goes straight to his groin.

Neteyam lies you down on hard floor. He’d rather have you in the warmth of his Kelku, or under the stars, but at least here he can get at your maskless face. At your bare lips. Once he’s cradling your head safely and tucked in between your spread thighs he's at you again. Ravenously.

You’re so docile, so eager to let him take whatever he wants.

“Flora” he husks into your hair and you shiver.

“Yeah?”

“Flora” Neteyam brings your little body even closer.”You have no Idea. I have to have you. I need-”

You squeak needily “You can have whatever you need” and gasp when Neteyam kisses your cheek. Your lips. Your jaw. Your neck. Your nerves are on fire and your hips grind against his.

“I need this body. I need to see all of it, you drive me crazy” Neteyam armits as he tugs on your top and you help him pull it up over your head. You dont wear a bra, why would you? Your pretty rosy nipples are all on display for him. Pebbled and begging for attention, He laps slowly with his wide textured tongue at the puffy nub.

He suckles like a newborn until you’re chivalry and making hurt little sounds, until your pretty chest is covered in blooming bruises.

And then he’s dragging his wanting mouth down. Past your heaving ribs and over your soft belly. Neteyam hikes the flowy material of your skirt up high, until he can bend down and poke his head underneath.

“Oh!” you gasp, writhing a bit. Your thighs trying to close on instinct.

You’re so wet for him, the smell of it is thick and heady and he digs his nose into your inner thigh and snuffles. Its mouthwatering.

And it bit mortifying, from your end. Having the large man with his head buried under your skirt as he sniffs at your core-

When he licks a fat stripe over you, wetting up the thin material of your panties you cry out. No ones ever touched you like this and here he is, licking at your clothed pussy. Over and over until the fabric is translucent and sticky with your flowing juices.

“Please” you mewl, gathering the fabric, yanking until you can see him.

Its filthy and erotic. The sight of his hulking blue body between your trembling tanned thighs. So alien. So taboo-

“Please what, sylaung?” Neteyam taunts, his golden eyes meeting yours. They shine with mirth, and lust. So much lust. When he noses at your pink flowery panties you throw your head back, eyes squeezed closed. Unable to take the sight any longer “You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes” you sob because you’re pulsing and you can barley breathe you’re so horny “Please take care of me with your tongue”

Neteyam strips you then, out of your skirt and cute little panties and you’re lying under him. Naked and flushed and wanting.

He shoulders himself exactly back where he wants to be. Where he’s always wanted to be.

“Don't worry, I’ll take care of this sweet pussy for you”

Oh god. Your head is spinning.

You can barely think as he kisses on the jiggling fat of your thighs.

“I’m sorry” you gasp.

Neteyam hums right against your core and you can feel the vibrations throughout your entire body “What for?”

“I’m so messy” you whisper, that pink blush blooming all over your body.

Groaning, Neteyam can't wait any longer. Your flavor bursts along his taste buds. Tangy and earthy and decadently sweet. He’s had his fair share of cunt before, but he’s never tasted a humans and he’s shocked at how saccharine it is. It’s sticky and coats his mouth and throat. His lips and nose and chin as he digs in.

“Neteyam!” You wait.

“Fuck. Oh, Eywa. One Second” Neteyam sits up and adjusts himself where his painfully hard under his tweng and the ache in you deepens. You try to be good, try to be still as he leans in and licks at you again. Kisses your pussy in that same beautiful passionate way he kisses your lips.

He’s good. Too good at this. He’s had too much practice and you never had a chance againts that oversized mouth.

“Holy fuck” the words sound even more vulgar in your honeyed voice “Fucking hell, Nete. Nete. I’m almost there”

Neteyam grin is hidden between the lips of your pussy. He doubles down, letting you hump and soak his face. Then lapping back at inside of you in a repetitive and ceaseless rhythm, One that has you shaking, arching up off the ground. Your plush thighs closing, clamping around his head as you come.

Your orgasm cinches tight and rushes around you, inside of you, out of you with a gush of slick. It’s so deep. So strong, that it takes a moment for you to truly peak and it leaves you in a daze. Out side of your body as you fuck up againts Neteyams mouth like a wild animal.

You’d never come so hard in your life and it takes a while for you to recenter.

Once youre able to focus past the rushing in your ears, the first thing you notice is Neteyam’s face streaked with wet. Your blush blooms across your cheeks as you both breathe unevenly into the quiet.

“Did that feel good?” Nereyam knows it did, but still. He needs to ask. Needs to hear you say it.

You giggle, girlish and airy as your dainty hand releases his hair and cups at his cheek “So so good. I’ve never felt anything like that before”

His grin is all too feline and seeing those white canines gleam so close to the most sensitive part of you is a little alarming.

“There’s so much more to come, yawntutsyip” Neteyam promises, leading back down. His fingers play with the jiggle of your thigh- so different then any of the Omaticaya women he’s had You squirm a bit, clearly overstimulated, but keep your legs spread anyway.

Neteyams long digits prod gently at your pussy lips. You’re oddly pretty here. All red and rosy and inflamed, like that blush he loved so much on your cheeks. He spreads you with two fingers so that he can look at you inside. At your quivering pink folds and your tiny little hole that clenches when he runs his finger along it.

“You’re so small here” he whispers, completely hypnotized by it “So fucking tight. You’ll never be able to take me”

You whimper unhappily “Don’t say that. I want to- please just try”

“Shh,” Neteyam soothes your cries. Your dazed worries. He distracts you with his tongue, as it swirls over your throbbing clit. It feels a bit like sandpaper to your nerves, but you can get enough.

When his finger begins to breach you, you hold your breath.

Its big, but youre so loose from your first orgasm, so desperate to be filled that he sinks in until the hilt.

Its maddening after that and you grind the back of your head into the hard concrete under you- your eyes closed and your mouth hanging open. The sounds you make are feral and raw-

Neteyam fucks you open with one and then two fingers until its easy. Until the sweet stretch doesn't burn- instead its slippery and wet.horribly wet as Neteyam feasts on you as he fucks you with his fingers-

“Too much-Fuck” you weakly try to pull away from the assult of pleasure but he he’s too strong. Pins you down. Makes you take whatever he wants to give you.

When he lifts your hips up even higher to take a curious lick at your puckered asshole you white out.

This orgasm isnt like the first. You sink under the waves of this one. Your muscles cramp with the intensity. You cant come back to yourself, you can’t cling to anything but Neteyam. You cant even scream.

He’s everything, as he soothes you. As he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“H-hurts” you whimper, eyes filling up with tears. Pussy aching.

“Just a little more baby” Neteyam huffs as he licks at you and stuffs the hand that's covered in your cum down his own tweng. It lubricates the fast and furious pumping of his fist along his rock hard cock.

He cant fuck you tonight, thats something the two of you will have to work up to. He’ll teach your tiny body to take him. To crave penetration.

But with his tongue buried in your pulsating pussy and your scent all around him its easy enough to pretend. Easy enough to imagine shoving himself into you slowly. Stretching you’re ruined. Your hole would never be the same. You’d forever gape because of him-

Neteyam comes with a roar and dirties his loincloth up like a teenager.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later, after he’s cleaned you both up the best he can and gathered you to his chest. After he’s taken a sip from the breathing mask and nuzzled ar your wispy soft baby hairs that are plastered against the side of your sweaty head-

That he has the urge to read that book again. The one with the fairies. As he watches your slumbering face, your nose scrunching and lips pursing, he thinks the onlt thing missing is the gossamer wings,

His own little fairy.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

AAAAAAND we’re done.

First and foremost I want to give the wonderful @oakbuggy her accolades. Her Neteyam x Flora art inspired this fic 100%. A couple months ago I actually messaged her begging her to let me right this for her because I just couldn't get over this crackship of dreams. Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy that overstimulation, baby!

PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER ART. It’s sooooo delish.

This was a monster to write because I just had so many different ideas of what I wanted to do with the two of them and couldn't pinpoint where exactly I wanted the plot to go. Even now its a bit messy but still. I’m a fucking sucker for Neteyam x Flora and I would be more then happy to write more of them if thats something everyone would be into.

Please give me some feedback. What did we think about this writing style? Do we like the Y/N route more?

Until next time sweet honey bees!

[galleryofart]

Pastoral Landscape with Ruins

Artist: Adriaen van de Velde (Dutch, 1636–1672)

Date: 1664

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago, IL, United States

Description

With its warm southern sunlight and leisurely interactions between herders, this painting of the Italian countryside would have affirmed urban Dutch perceptions of rural areas as places of innocence and peace. The son of a painter, Adriaen van de Velde was also inspired by the cattle pieces of Paulus Potter and the Italianate pastoral scenes of Nicolaes Pietersz. Berchem. He achieved a harmonious balance of elements by studying the landscape from life as well as by sketching the cattle in the pasture and the human figures in the studio.

[jyeshindra]

ALL ABOUT TAURUS ASCENDANT

Hey there folks! I'm back again to continue our ascendant series. Today we're going over our lovely Taurus risings, ruled by lady Venus.

The ascendant is a highly personal point in the chart, revealing the ways in which our energy initiates. It is our mask, and the first thing the people who meet us see and experience. It is what we see when we look into the horizon for our next adventure, experience, or transformation. It is the ways we approach each area of our life and in its own way tells a story about how our lives will go.

Like always, it's good to start with the natural chart ruler of Taurus, Venus. Venus makes these risings charming, pleasant, and sensual people. Being bound to the earthly sign of Taurus, Venus isn't so much about connecting with others (more of a Libra quality) and more-so about enjoying pleasure and worldly things. You can be a little indulgent, Taurus, don't hide from it. It is Venus who is just as lusty and desiring as Mars. You wish to consume, and to possess, and to own, and to embrace all that the world has to offer, for it is the senses that guide your spirit and your vessel through this world. Some may call you greedy, but you know what the true worth of things are. This is also the gift of Venus. You manage your resources well, and are well-minded on matters of money and art. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and what an eye you possess, Taurus!

These risings usually have a sense for fashion and aesthetics, appearing well put together and fashionable. There's a sturdiness to these risings, with the neck and shoulders being accented. There's something unassuming and classically beautiful about them, with a knack for cultivating glorious spaces of art and comfort.

Being in a feminine sign, these risings are more internally focused, with a slow and conservative approach to life. They don't like to waste energy and approach things with a stark patience. They have the staying power to get what they want and they will get it. Think of the bull, grazing along in the pasture. That is, until there's something to attack! Don't wake the bull, for Taurus anger is something to be feared, and not something many see.

Taurus is also materially concerned and prioritizes security. Being fixed in nature, these ascendants aren't as dynamic, preferring to do things the tried and tested way. Here's where the stubborn bull rears its head. Taureans like consistency and resist change!

Venus is also, I think, responsible for their stable, calming qualities . Taurus you are a pleasure to be around and can put anyone at ease. You enjoy a peaceful, calming environmnent, right Taurus? And, you can certainly keep a secret. Taureans make great listeners!

Taureans, ultimately you are here to attract. It's the principle quality of Venus. Your senses are your greatest asset as you approach each new environment, taking in sight, sounds, smells, tastes, feelings. You calibrate and you beautify with your fixed perspective. Do not succumb to inertia, but keep moving forward ever so gracefully, imparting your wisdom and your knowledge upon each new pasture. You remind me of the Queen of Pentacles, nurturing and guiding things to their fruition with care and ease and love.

With your 8th House being ruled by Sagittarius, I think your power is awakened the moment you adopt the mutability of the sign. Be open to change when necessary and don't be so stuck in your ways Taurus. Let life teach you and let life show you new ways of thinking and looking at a situation. Then your ability to impart your wisdom will be even greater.

That's the Aquarius Midheaven, after all! You have so much to share with the world! From your observations and your experiences, there is a deep wisdom others must hear. Even if it causes you to operate against what others may expect of you, even if it breeds feelings of loneliness and confusion. You know what you have to offer the world will change it. What you touch automatically increases in value and is long-lasting, perhaps even progressive and innovative!

Scorpio Descendant will reveal the kind of partners you crave, as well as your own shadow Taurus. You, who wants to possess and own, may find a kinship in your Scorpio partners who also bring a kind of intensity to their relationships. You want someone loyal, someone who will not abandon you, and someone who will listen to you. There are dark things brewing beneath your surface, Taurus and you aren't always so open about the traumas and pains of your life. Water will soften your earth Taurus and open you up, allowing you to confess about the demons assailing your heart.

For this is what exists in your shadow, Taurus! You go through intense periods of transformation and you endure tough, brutal emotions. You do feel things, and at times you hold grudges. You hold onto those emotions until you explode, which doesn't always spell well for the people around you or yourself. Learn to process those emotions and talk to someone. Learn the art of letting go.

Perhaps a Scorpionic partner can teach you these things?

I fear this post grows too long. I could go further, but I believe this already paints quite the picture.

Next will be my dear Geminis!

[joffyworld]

Coming Forth By Day

First comes the almighty

Cacophony of bangs which so does summon fleeing

Avians taking flight in peril overhead,

Frightened by their nature's peaceful domain

Now actively harassed and disturbed

By violence most abrupt.

Second follows a blade

From a bodkin swiftly cutting

Through the breeze so sharply that they who swash

Are thus left staggered and unprepared

For what comes next in the blink of an eye

Is doubly quick in execution;

Hie hasted chopping of the neck,

Making two of what was once whole.

Thrice does engage those

Men-at-arms of chaos's host in attempt

To circumvent their portion,

Designed yclept goodly god o' demise,

Then assigned to us all,

Thereunto we art so destined thenceforth;

Verily, all that awaits is final vale,

That which no potation or physic

Shall ne'er so undermine.

Quarters cut of naught but they

Knaves and levys which dared fare onward

Against the true God's Lamb; They

Whomst tears asunder these false bishop's throngs,

Cleaves them in twain and leaving

Corses behind them in totality,

Thoroughly therewith embarrassing

The plans o' evil clergymen;

Those ever falsely worshipped blackguards.

Quinary does thus mark,

The slow coming of the night sky,

Oversetting the sun's shine softly;

If only for a short time

Before the great star shall rise again:

Drawn by solar barque once more;

Like an embouchure that does flow,

Time shall pass by unrepentant.

So embarks home the reaper's gentle lordling,

Upon the long walk of nature's roadway,

Homeward bound with spoils in hand to:

The warmth of the hearth,

The pastures known and settled,

By kinfolk and fairest followers

O' the Lamb and their overlord.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

hello again! for those of you just tuning in, @greenlikethesea and i have an ongoing project wherein we write songs for every listed track title in the appendix of @greatunironic's epic Steddie fic "the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you." this one is inspired specifically by this companion piece to the fic, about writing the second album.

album art courtesy of @bienmoreau.

LYRICS:

“No heathens in a foxhole” but I’ve been to the trenches tell the snow-white flocks, “No heathens in a foxhole” So strike me from the Earth

They stole my name and my hometown Now I’m howling like a bloodhound Stole my name and my hometown The pains of this rebirth

No gods, no masters So we’re to blame for this disaster no gods no masters No promise, your next breath

No gods no masters No hope for greener pastures No gods no masters No promise, past your death

Used to make my altars but my whole body falters used to make my altars a peace that I can’t find

I don’t believe I’ll beat this Can’t outwit or cheat this I don’t believe I’ll beat this senseless, toothless, blind

No gods, no masters so scream it past the rafters no gods, no masters a breakdown, no breakthrough

No gods no masters so sing it louder, play it faster no gods no masters there’s no escape from you

[gaynglican]

I wrote a prayer for the Anglican rosary to help me contemplate the nature of Christ. It uses the 8 Colors of the Gilbert Baker rainbow flag as a jumping off point, as well as the intended meaning behind each color.

Rainbow Contemplative Prayer, Anglican Rosary

The Cross,

My God and my all!

Invitatory Bead,

Triune God, dancer of the divine dance of love. Welcome us into the circle dance, as we welcome our siblings (who are not always welcomed by the world.)

Amen.

Cruciforms 1, 2, 3, 4,

Pink draws us deeper into Your radical love. Incarnate Christ, draw us ever deeper into Your body.

Week 1,

Red is the breath of life, for You are the wellspring of all Creation. Resurrected Christ, draw us into Your eternal Resurrection.

Week 2,

Orange is healing transformation, for, in You, all shall be saved. Great Physician, You hold our brokeness; we awaken in Your care.

Week 3,

Yellow is the sunlight, which brings the day. Of You, Most High, it bears the likeness. Light of the world, let Your divine light shine from our souls.

Week 4,

Green is Your Creation. True Vine, all Creation sings Your praise. Let us seek Your face in all You have made.

Week 5,

Turquoise is the holy magic of art. Logos Christ, You are our voice. Show us visions of Your Great Mystery, so we might create Heaven on Earth.

Week 6,

Indigo is serenity and peace. Good Shepherd, grant us Your peace. Lamb of God, You lead the Last to green pastures and still waters.

Week 7,

Violet is the Holy Spirit, which comes upon us as a rushing wind. Emmanuel, pour out Your Spirit and set us aflame with the fire of Your love.

Cruciform,

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.

Cross,

Out of our darkness, let God's light shine, a light to enlighten the nations. For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, whom You have prepared for all the world to see. A light to enlighten the nations and the glory of Your people.

Amen.

[ahedderick]

Christmas

The wrap for our Christmas day was getting takeout food* and going down to Home Farm. A lengthy, quarter-mile commute! Gone are the days of spending three hours in the car on Christmas day. Son's roommate had returned from visiting his family. We all sat around the table down there and had a nice meal; the first time we all ate together down there since Grandpa was alive. Tabby, Grandpa's cranky old queen cat, begged for pets and attention.

The boys' tree is lovely, decked as it is with a selection of my/my mother's ornaments and, of course, shrimp. One of my father's better decorating attempts was putting a large mirror across part of the living room wall, in a nook beside a chimney. The tree is right on front of that, which looks amazing. Twice the sparkles!

It was a lovely end to a lovely day. Who knows what next year will bring. In this moment, though, we are at peace. Nutmeg bossing Hanz and Juniper around in the red barn, pigeons roosting in a shed, Hero and Leo standing quietly their pasture waiting for their dinner. Five dogs and five cats between the two houses, which I will admit is a bit much.

My hopes for next year: College success for the kids. A better way to sell art for me; online, gallery shows, something. Better health for me (not likely, but I can wish). A good year for the garden and the various tree plantings. A return to full mobility and farm-dog hijinks for Rosalie. And a good working relationship for Hero and Leo.

'* In the earlier years of our marriage, we went to see my in-laws at midday on Christmas, and spent the evening with them. When Husband's older sisters started having their own grandchildren, that tradition died a natural death, and we were on our own for Christmas day. I, a person who cooks A Lot, put my foot down on the topic of cooking a dinner on Christmas day.

[artistsoftheunknown]

sunbro

cut from the same stone, we reach blindly for the breaking point. with tragedy abound, it's no longer safe to believe in greener pastures. a field far off once held an idea of peace, clear as sunny noon. muted blues fell against familiar facade: misted flowers with ghostly rainbow in bloom.

how to articulate letting go? art of which remains intrinsic with the grace of our movement. fluidly consolidate high water marks, and boil down niceties until all that remains is what was meant. yet still, we come up aching in those early hours when the blanket dew calls us to fall away into something beside ourselves.

[secretf1lms]

Reigns & Rings Prolugue

In the year 114ac, Queen Alicent Hightower and king Viserys Targaryen or known as the Green Queen and King Viserys the Peaceful, had a set of twins, a daughter then a son. Daenys Targaryen and Daeron Targaryen later known as the deserter twin and Daeron the daring.

King Viserys noticed the drift between his daughter's family and his. So when his grandson Jacaerys was born in the same year, he demanded that the 3 share a wet nurse, so that they would be close because they were "milk siblings". That didn't change what was pressed upon the three about the other's family, which made them grow to detest each other.

By age two, the twins were inseparable, they did everything together. They ate together, slept in the same room, and took the same lessons. By age 4, they had mastered the art of the common tongue and High Valyrian.

But out of all of her siblings, Daenys, saw through people. She also was the brightest, she was always her mother's favorite for that, because she was reminded of her young self. Not her looks, no she was the spitting image of House Targaryen, her personality was it.

But Alicent knew one thing, that people were going to use it for their own good, or she was going to die for it. And she wanted to warn her, but she could never see her daughter so down from her own doing. So she woefully accepted her fate.

-

120ac

"Grand Maester Mellos make sure you bring enough nightshade and milk of the poppy for Daenys also, I can't have her having any dreams especially around her sister" he hears. She came to visit the man to "check up" on her husband's health.

The queen knows that it was a risky move going to this maester, but it was for her peace. She could not bear her daughter's dreams again. Not like last time.

"Yes, your grace, and you'll have her travel by boat of course?" he asked uncertainty, not knowing the queen's next thoughts.

"...yes, I will, thank you" is all the man hears before he hears footsteps leaving his study.

-

118ac

Daenys could feel the ground under her moving, not stopping but a flowing pasture as if she was flying through the skies. But she wasn't. She was looking at her mother who was looking back at her in horror, Daenys saw her reflection in her mother. Young, beautiful, mad and dead.

But she could also see her physical reflection, through her mothers Irses. Blood, crinkling down her stomach and to the floor, a knife in her and her mother wielding it. But was it really her, or was it just a person she didn't know. But it was her.

Even in her 4 year old body, she could tell, she looked like her mother in some ways, which is what her grandfather impressed upon her. But instead of the chubby cheeks, bright eyes, and positive facade she always let off.

She was the exact opposite. White hair was baked into her forehead, her cheeks were hollow and instead of the bright smile and positive facade that was fading every day. She met a new person, a person that ripped the knife out of her and ripped her from her dream in screams. 

[manicplank]

What do they do all day? (More headcanons) I am very bored.

Peppino: Delivers pizzas, but business is shit sooo... He and Gustavo probably play cards while waiting for orders. At home, he watches T.V. or learns new dances. Unbelievably flexible for his age and weight. Goes to Noisette's movie nights every now and again.

Gustavo: Outside of the restaurant, he still loves to cook. He takes his time cooking himself a good dinner (and sometimes will invite Peppino over for a meal. He worries about him.) He likes to teach Brick new tricks or simply pets him. They like to watch shows together. Goes to Noisette's every Monday for movie night.

BONUS Brick: Naps! Big on naps! Likes to snuggle up to Gustavo or lays his head on Gustavo's lap. Has some toys around that he likes to play with. His favorite toy is Gus's shoes.

Mr. Stick: Works in finances, probably works full time. Outside of work, he gambles or stays home and watches whatever show is trending. He either loves it or hates it. Very critical. Enjoys a good nap quite often. Might have a drink or two after 5. Sometimes goes to movie night at Noisette's.

Pepperman: PAINTS, DUH. Outside of painting, he probably does models, like cars or rockets or whatever. He's always trying some new form of art. Tried origami, but his fingers were too big. Definitely cried over it. Not invited to Movie Night Mondays.

The Vigilante: Works on the farm. Feeding the cows, cleaning the pastures, bailing hay, etc. He cries happily every time a calf is born. Loves the farm life, it brings him peace and joy. He prefers it over being the sheriff. However, he usually only works when there's a bounty involved since the western district is pretty quiet crime wise. Goes to Noisette's every other Monday for movie night.

The Noise: Works A LOT. Whether it be on set or in office, he works anywhere from 8-12 hours depending on the day. Typically takes a nap when he gets home unless it's close to dinnertime. After that, he might watch an episode or two of something (and criticizes it, much like Mr. Stick. He thinks his shows are almost always better.) Sometimes he might play a bit of video games. On his days off, he practices skate tricks, naps, or gets into trouble. Might "accidentally" get a little too drunk in The Pig City and have to call Noisette for a ride home. Doesn't usually participate in Movie Night Mondays, because he doesn't like the people. Calls his mom every Tuesday.

Noisette: The cafe is only open 3-4 days a week from 5 a.m. to 12 p.m., with her getting home around 1 or 1:30. She has a group of friends, her girls, who she goes to brunch with occasionally. They definitely gossip. I imagine them like a younger, less boring version of Sex and The City. While Noise is gone, she watches his shows. For some reason, he gets all bashful when she watches them while he's around. She's his #1 fan, after all. She also watches a lot of cheesy shows and movies. Loves romcoms and chick flicks. Hosts Movie Night Mondays with just about everyone she knows. Except Pepperman. She despairs him.

Fake Peppino: Depending on the day, he will sit and stare at the wall ALL DAY. He doesn't always need entertainment. He might help out Gerome and clean up whatever Gerome simply can't stomach (guts, bones, etc.) Some days, he's silly. He'll zoom around the slum. He might want to play. (Stated in a previous post) He likes to play fetch and tug if war, typically using something important... Like a gun or a knife. Something he isn't supposed to have, he will pick up and run away from whoever is trying to take it from him. Only allowed to explore the rest of the tower when SUPERVISED, typically being kept on some sort of leash. Pizzahead refers to this activity as "walking the frog." Goes to Noisette's every Monday for movie night.

Pizzaface: Surprisingly, he's typically on autopilot unless it's SHOWTIME. He floats around the tower keeping everything and everyone in check. Basically a security guard. Plays cards in the saloon with Noisette every now and then. Might knock over one of Pepperman's statues for a laugh. Might go to Vigi's and pet a cow. Might argue with The Noise just for the sake of pissing Noise off. Sometimes has long talks with John or Gerome, feels bad that they got caught up in the tower mess.

Pizzahead: Works in the lab a lot. Always trying to create the perfect clone. Sometimes will tinker with Pizzaface's mechanics. Goes to the cafe every now n then to grab a coffee and chat with Noisette. Dresses up like a cowboy and has a drink at the saloon. Stalks Peppino. Might take the frog for a walk. Not allowed at The Fun Farm after he tried to steal a baby cow. "It was just so cute!" Will talk to John on the fifth floor, much to John's dismay. He also chats with the toppin monsters and tinkers with their gears. Always goes to Movie Night Mondays, he and Noisette are besties despite her not realizing that he's the "Pizzaboy Guy."

Pillar John: Stares at the wall. He can't do much else since he's stuck in the fifth floor bound by cheese. Might chat with Pizzahead out of boredom, even if he doesn't like him. Talks with Gerome at any chance they get. Made good friends with Gustavo while Peppino was running through the levels. Wishes he could go to Movie Night Mondays. Also wishes he could go to the cafe and order some food (crazy, I know, but based off the treasures used to resurrect him in the end, I think it's safe to assume he'd eat LITERALLY anything.)

Gerome: He doesn't get to do much of anything but his job. Might sneak away for lunch, a nap, or to chat with John. Goes to the cafe for a coffee. Might have a chat with Peppino or Gustavo. Mostly avoids everyone else. Wishes he could go to Movie Night Mondays, Noisette still invites him every single week.

[jamenvs3000f24]

Blog 4!

To interpret nature through art is a process that is based on observation, feeling and to have a sense of connectedness to the surrounding environment. There are, in my opinion, a variety of things at play when it comes to how nature is interpreted through art. I envision mountain ranges, flower gardens, and sunsets when I think of nature in art.  However, our five senses are the basis for all these things. Our senses of touch and scent allow us to take in the beauty of the natural world. Like touching rocks, breathing in the scent of woods, listening to birds, or watching leaves rustle in the breeze. It is the sight and sound of nature that evoke some of my most profound memories.  There are fundamental memories in nature, from raindrops falling on a window to the calm of a setting sun. The ability to sense every aspect of the beauty that nature bestows upon us through art comes to me when I consider how to interpret nature through art.  

One way to define “the gift of beauty” is one’s ability to recognize and value the smallest details, harmony, and patterns found in both nature and human existence. It is all about appreciating the visual, emotional, and occasionally spiritual effect of nature or the arts. By turning this perception into something that speaks to other people through words, images, or various other forms, one might interpret this through art. Although beauty if very personal, at its heart, it often conveys wonder, peace and balance. 

I can capture and transmit the essence of the natural environment in ways to encourage people to interact with their surroundings using photos, painting, etc. I love to take photos of the beauty of nature. Something always has a story, from the blooming of a flower, the changing of the leaves, sunsets and more. For example, a picture of a flower in bloom can symbolize rebirth and hope, whilst a picture of a stream with a forest background can be seen as peaceful and calm. My intention and a nature interpreter are to foster a closer relationship between humans and the environments they inhabit by using art to explain what nature truly is. Nature is interpreted by everyone differently, but to enrich someone’s thoughts and views of nature to better it, would be amazing.  

Here is a picture that I took 2 years ago of the tree in front of Summerlee. To me it symbolizes change of not only the colour of the leaves but that the seasons are also changing.

An example of when I was an interpreter was when I was a camp counsellor for summer horse camp. It was an amazing experience to teach them the beauty of nature through showing and answering their questions. As well as teaching them the beauty of horses, pastures, and more. It was nice to see their view of how the interpret nature and how they see it. 

In the end, everybody experiences nature in a different way, therefore it is important to take a variety of viewpoints and cultural backgrounds into account. They can be enhanced more and can have more comprehensive appreciation of the beauty of nature.  Taking Indigenous perspectives and acknowledging their strong ties to the land. My goal is to have people realize how important nature is and to take an act of responsibility for it. 

[waldeinsamkeit-feeling]

in the ode to Venus in “de rerum natura” by Lucrezio, there’s a passage in which the author asks Venus to keep Mars at bay, for art cannot prosper under war. and he does so by saying she knows how to placate Mars: by letting him lay on her bosom, his neck stretched backward, looking at her, gapingly, his breath hanging upon her lips and I swear to God that’s how I imagine Anakin: sprawled on Obi-wan’s lap, being tormented by the war inside himself, but as soon as he gazes into obi-wan’s eyes, everything goes quite and calm. He can only sense the peaceful, grounding, safe love he feels for his soulmate. There’s no yesterday and no tomorrow, there is only Obi-wan’s fond, gentle glance, promising Anakin will always have a place to return to and to feel safe. And after all, Anakin ponders, we all feel most secure at home; I’m glad mine has greyish eyes with green speckles and strong yet gentle arms. Then he dozes off lulled by his beloved calming breath.

“Nam tu sola potes tranquilla pace iuvare

mortalis, quoniam belli fera Mavors

armipotens regit, in gremium qui saepe tuum se

reicit aeterno devictus vulnere amoris,

atque ita suspiciens tereti cervice reposta

pascit amore avidos inhians in te, dea, visus,

eque tuo pendet resupini spiritus ore.”

“For thou alone hast power with public peace

To aid mortality; since he who rules

The savage works of battle, puissant Mars,

How often to thy bosom flings his strength

O'ermastered by the eternal wound of love-

And there, with eyes and full throat backward thrown,

Gazing, my Goddess, open-mouthed at thee,

Pastures on love his greedy sight, his breath

Hanging upon thy lips.”

[breakerwhiskey]

173 - ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY THREE

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Okay, I am officially concerned. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but the truck was’t in the drive like usual so I just assumed…

I should have checked the whole house. But I’m so used to never coming into the garage because I know how much you hate your studio being disturbed but when I woke up this morning and you still weren’t home, well, I went in anyway and the truck is still here. In the garage.

It’s running fine—that’s where I’m broadcasting from right now, though obviously I turned the engine off. And I have to say, I’m impressed that you were actually listening when I told you to bring it inside for the winter if you weren’t going to be driving it much. But if you’re not out there driving this truck on a supply run, where are you?

I—I took the other car. Which, I’m sorry to say, is now somewhere in California, having been put out to pasture. But unless you finally decided to take an interest in car mechanics after all this time, I don’t know how else you’d be getting around. I know you love your walks—or, you did, eventually, once you got past the worst of the paranoia, but…you never went on a walk this long.

If you’re—if you’re dead in a ditch somewhere, I’m going to be fucking furious, Harry.

[click, static]

It’s…weird. Being in here. It feels like being inside your head somehow. It’s a goddamn mess, which I didn’t really expect. I’m sure you’ve got your own system—though who the hell knows—but I definitely can’t make sense of it. I’m glad to see you pulled the radio in here though. Maybe you did hear some of my transmissions after all.

Is that why you’re not here? Because you heard me say I was coming and you didn’t want to see me? You’ve enjoyed your life without me so much that you couldn’t bear to have your peace shattered.

Except…you’ve been thinking about me. I know you have. And maybe this is why you never wanted me to be in your studio in the first place.

There’s…a lot of me in here. Paintings, sketches…not all of my face always but you must have known that I’d recognize the curve of my own ear, the shape of my hands.

Have—have you been doing this all along? Or just since I left? Were you always coming in here and spending hours perfecting the color of my hair when some days you wouldn’t even speak to me—

[click, static]

Is this why you asked for the stories behind all my scars? So you could render them in perfect detail, knowing exactly what made them and when? I thought you wanted to know more about me, but maybe it was just an avenue for your art, one of the few subjects that you had access to, too tired of painting birds or trees or images from your own mind.

Or did you ask because you wanted to know? You talked once, about how painting helped you understand the world, or yourself; how that was one of the things you loved about it, one of the reasons you started painting in the first place. Because when nothing else made sense, charcoal and oil and your own hands were able to bring shape to the world.

Were you trying to understand me? Or were you trying to understand what you felt about me? Or was guilt swallowing it all up that you couldn’t uncover anything else.

I just…I need you to come back and explain what this is all about. Because in a room full of canvases and color and stray sketch pages, I keep turning and seeing my own face. I’m everywhere.

[click, static]

There’s a lot of other art too, of course. And it’s all…it’s fucking beautiful. Your art has always been so beautiful.

I…I’ve added to your collection. I picked up a painting when I was in Santa Fe, something that I thought was pretty and that I thought you might—

Well, I’ve left it in here. In case you want to do anything with it. It’s yours.

There are also—well. I wrote you some postcards. But I obviously had no way of sending them to you so I just…held onto them. But you might as well have them now.

I don’t know why I’m saying all of this on the radio like I can’t say it to you face to face. You’ll be back and you’ll probably be annoyed that I left stuff in your studio without asking. There’s no need for me to leave anything for you, not when I can just hand it to you.

But I just have this feeling…

I’m going to look for you tomorrow. Drive to the usual spots, take a walk in the woods behind the house. And because I’m fucking considerate, I’m going to leave a note.

[click, static]

[momentsbeforemass]

Constant

I’m always a little skeptical about people who find hidden meanings in the Bible.

Probably because I grew up around some ultra fundamentalists who did weird things with Scripture.

Like playing “apocalypse calendar” – giving dates and names to stuff in the Book of Revelation so they could figure out when the world was going to end.

Or assigning numbers to Hebrew letters and words so that they could “discover the true meaning” of some passage in Old Testament. 

But then there are times when things like that hit home. Like with the 23rd Psalm (today’s psalm).

In Hebrew, Psalm 23 has 55 words. There are 26 words before and 26 words after the words at the middle of the psalm. In the middle of the 23rd Psalm are the Hebrew words that are classically translated as “for Thou art with me.”

As in “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou are with me.”

Whether it’s all green pastures and still waters or if what we see coming our way couldn’t look any scarier. No matter what’s going on in our lives, there is one constant.

The only One who is constant. The only One who will never leave us or forsake us.

Even when anyone else would have abandoned us long ago.

Even when we’re too scared or hurt too much to feel His presence.

“Thou art with me.”

This time, the numbers make sense.

Because the heart of the 23rd Psalm (according to the word count) is the heart of what the Psalmist is saying.

“Thou art with me.”

Today, make time to pray the 23rd Psalm. But don’t just recite it from memory.

Stop in the middle. Stay a moment with the heart of the 23rd Psalm.

Stay with the peace and the trust that flows from this simple truth.

“Thou art with me.”

Today’s Readings