#saps at sea

[makeitquietly]

Saps at Sea (1940)

[letterboxd-worth-a-damn]

[protectoursharks]

Hiii!

I'm like a week new to Tumblr- I can't figure out how to sort through content well, so you've probably posted about this before

What do you know about sea slugs?? Like particularly interesting ones! I love them and wanna hear your description!!

Here are some of my past nudibranch posts: x x x

One of my favorite nudibranchs is the Sap-sucking sea slug (Cyerce elegans)!

The large leaf-looking parts are known as cerata and help the nudibranch "breathe". They can also be released to use as a distraction if the animal feels threatened!

The species has many color variations, from nearly transparent to red or brown! The color is dependent on the environment in which the species is found; these nudibranchs have coloration that matches the local algae that they eat. This helps them stay camouflaged while they're eating!

[gecklund]

Have we considered that getting the Sharkies wet before the game is the key?

[piratedllama-art]

Happy Marinetober!

Day 1: sap-ducking slug

Done w/ markers

[meta-knight-is-bisexual]

hi everyone i’m back with a short storyboard animatic thing i made

warning for minor sketchy blood :]

i don’t think this arc has been talked about by either me or @pumpkinnkidd before but uuhh essentially trouble goes to hell!! he’s tricked into training in the auburn plains, and is sleeping in the sage den due to his initial assumption that the cat in his dreams was from stag colony instead of the auburn plains. pumpkin is their colony’s sage rookie, and the two of them are very close friends. however, trouble is now carrying the guilt of “lying” about training with stag colony as well as the wounds he gets every night from his training. he feels as though he’s betrayed his colony, since they believe he’s some chosen child, and pumpkin just wants to save her friend from this hell he’s stuck in <<33

[pumpkinnkidd]

i uploaded my first yt video! watch it if you’d like!

[necrophcge]

"who put you in charge?"

@goldenfists // moments stolen from a doom-driven journey // accepting.

"Evolution." And oh are there moments when he wishes it weren't so, truly. Awareness unlocked and unleashed upon him in a shower of golden Dust, twisting something that had been little more than a scuttling beast scavenging for a morsel into a someone that was capable of recognizing how alone he could be despite being surrounded by hundreds of his own kindred... alas, here he remains, master and kindred and leader to the ravening swarm as they struggle to survive.

"When you were born to do nothing more than kill, there is no need for a consensus on who should lead, nor any more merit to be considered than who best can slay your enemies." Here in the shade offered by the ancient arena, Shurima's sun baking the dunes with her harsh rays, He Who Meddles considers his... well. Guest feels too esteemed for a hind-legs no matter their supposed renown, but meal implies the tales of Sett aren't always accompanied with the corpses that prove them. Nonetheless, the champion of Iona's fighting pits had come a long way from home simply to spill blood onto the thirsting sands. Too far for that to be his sole interest. "That, and the raiders were content to leave this place for the desert to swallow again... and I abhor waste."

Conversing with hind-legs beyond simply threatening them had been a novelty on Auriga, but a new strategy was required for a new world. Restoring this arena, offering the hind-legs their shiny gold trinkets and baubles pulled from the ruins to slay one another just to feed the hive without them ever being the wiser, was but a small but lucrative little venture. One that would be paying off yet again, assuming Sett was actually here to claim another title for his legacy.

"Do you intend to challenge the status quo, Half-Beast?" There's an ominous whirr to his words, and He Who Meddles' mandibles snap together harshly, both pairs of arms folded in clear expectation as his many-eyes rove over Sett.

[seased]

been seeing a lot of bg3, being playing some at a friends place, this is my review:

the models are too good (hd wrinkles and pores) and the lighting is too bad (high noon all the time). and this shit combines together to create what im calling The Old Man Angle. every character has these angles at which they look 55 years old. it’s like so noticeable to me im so hung up on it

[makeitquietly]

Saps at Sea (1940)

[royalreef]

      Her romantic’s heart has seized her again, and she has to resist the temptation to, yet again!, state just how much she loves Aaravi, in exactly which ways, and taking care to list every way. And she can’t afford to, because the ways in which she loves Aaravi is every way, and they just don’t have that type of time!

                                        What can she say? She’s a completionist.

[halfire]

for all the glass doodads and knickknacks we have the fact that yhe only thing thats really broken is the bookshelf is so wild

i hate you earthquakes i hate you earthquakes

[valorxdrive]

"Hey, lover boy, Christmas is coming up. What're you scheming up for Kairi?" And if he knows Sora, which he certainly does, he's going to go all out.

"What, you wanna' keep it a secret or something?"

"Whaaaaat? C'mon I didn't make it that obvious." He adds with an instant of boisterous laughter. Except it leads to a moment short lived, his expression edging from that more brazen confidence to a more modest edge.

Somehow, someway, the lady in question could always egg this angle from him.

"Did I?"

Not as if his idea had some tangible trail to lead up to it. As it stands, what Sora considered was from a memory tinged with a bittersweet weight reserved for the two of them. It was from a journey into the void itself, where the natural collapse of the cosmos itself hung on the precipice, yet it was through their efforts that the END hadn't found itself encroaching with mercilessness.

Even now he can look back upon that day so vividly. How flourishing blue bursts of Heart power thrived to the heavens, bundled intimately with their rightful stars before shooting back to the grand leagues of the cosmos, contently settling back into the partisans known as the World Order. Yet even as so much wonder spilled around him, the heaviness and love in his heart could only focus forward.

Kairi burned like a supernova even amidst the workings of a miracle.

Sora's form found itself draped against that curved tree as a sunny day held overhead, the gradual shift in temperature from the sea serving as a sign to the changing of seasons. Christmas was a day he truly intended to spend at the islands now, surrounded by the best of friends and the greatest of family.

Not to mention her.

"There's a view I wanna recreate for her." Simple as that. The heat of embarrassment, any drifts of uncertainty, there simply wasn't anything intending to hook and anchor him into the prospect of nervousness. For a change, Sora was certain. "Something that me and her alone really got to see."

"Instead of apart, for my Christmas present to her, I want to make sure we can watch it side by side."

Almost as if answering that agonized wish they both shared once upon a time. How they should've crossed to travel together or to stay together.

@tenebrave

[bloodredx]

@gi-ie-ru

Ornate Leaf Slug (Elysia ornata), family Plakobranchidae, San Juan, Puerto Rico

photograph by Magali Marquez-Ramos

[diy-ke]

an october playlist for u, embark on a listening journey if u dare >:)

[leyiorr]

i wonder what i look like in your eyes.

gojo ⋮ geto ⋮ sukuna ⋮ toji ⭑ how they see you and what you are to them.

¡! wc: 1.1k

¡! genre: tooth-rotting fluff, awful + contagious cases of lovesick men, you're literally their reason for existence

¡! an: i dropped this on another account but then abandoned it so its being posted here lolz!

☆ - satoru gojo ⋮ a nebula

when it comes to satoru, he's always been alone in his orbit. a level of his own. he's a god among the mortal race; both blessed and cursed to walk the earth. he's his own galaxy - the brightest and the boldest.

yet his galaxy is unbearably lonely. it's expansive, a cosmic canvas of infinite possibilites. it's an inky black celestial wonder, one that leaves a hollow feeling in his chest.

until he meets you, and you become the only being in existence allowed to orbit with him. you're his nebula, chaotic and disorted yet so effortlessly the most beautiful element of his galaxy.

you blaze in brilliant, radiant light; core searing it's permeant place in the midnight backdrop. you illuminate the space with shades of the deepest indigo and violets, mingled with wisps of turquoise and teal. crimson and oranges are vibrant in your centre.

the colour stretches into the void forming intricate patters, ones he finds himself untangling to better understand you.

in the silence of space, your nebula spoke volumes; comforting him at his worst, lulling his mind into dreamless sleep. your edges are softer, the colours more muted as you bleed into him. no one can tell where you begin and he ends.

you are so so small in comparison to the void, but so unbearably bright that you light it all with practiced ease. he tends to watch in awe as you decorate his solar system; nursing new stars to weave into his soul.

with you there, his universe becomes easier to live in, easier to navigate. you're a cloud of interstellar stardust - held together by the gravitational attraction of satoru's galaxy.

☆ - suguru geto ⋮ the artist

to suguru, you're the best thing that's happened to him. ever.

anyone who sees him with you knows. they know he's infatuated, enamoured. he's so far gone that people often think that he's been blinded by love, but he has simply never felt an emotion so intense.

with you he thinks he truly sees the world in all it's glory, innocent and pure. with you he traverses unpolluted by the atrocities of the world, you who colours his world.

he looks at you like you personally hang the stars in the sky when night rolls around, like you paint the sorbet sunsets by hand. he stares at you adoringly, as if you chose the colour of the sea and dusted white on the peaks of mountains to keep them warm.

he peers at you like you solely gift the flowers with their petals, dipping them in shades you deem beautiful enough. like you create the sand from scratch and lay it in pretty semi-lunar shapes next to the ocean.

he gazes at you like diamonds were invented in tribute to your tears, like you drew the prettiest landscapes alone in the quiet, before the age of humanity.

he studies you like you've sculpted the very shape of his heart - every ventricle and atrium handcrafted with your pretty fingers. as if his very existence was molded by you, hence why you fit so perfectly together; two pieces of a puzzle.

he could stare at you for hours and days on end, eyes full of love for the person who introduces him to a plethora of hues and tones that he imprints on the back of his eyelids when he sleeps.

☆ - ryomen sukuna ⋮ the breath of life

sukuna is not a good person. everybody knows that. he's taken innocent lives, sapping their energy like it's nothing. he's all-powerful; he stands amongst the deities - gods who have the capacity to bend fate to their will.

but after millennia of having everything under his rule, he's gotten bored. he has servants to order as he pleases but nothing they do entertains him. the god of death is bored, embarrassingly so.

until he acquires something known as a significant other, the other half of his soul as the humans say. you're his breath of life, a release of old, stagnant energy. it's as if you breathe vitality into everything you touch, all life forms flocking to you naturally.

you're so much softer than he, touch delicate yet profound, an ethereal caress that lights sparks in his eyes. he tends to linger quietly by your side when you walk in the garden he constructed just for you - though he would never tell you that.

wildflowers are coaxed into bloom with you around, their colours a testament to your nurturing touch. the dew-laden grass basks in your presence, gleaming a shade brighter than before. even the trees seem to gravitate toward you, branches reaching for you as you pass by, their leaves sighing in contentment.

sukuna's convinced the waves follow your pace, each push and pull matches your breathing.

you were the essence of renewal. his world had found it's pulse, it's rhythm, as you dance the unending dance of life in the centre. you sustain his beating heart, so sukuna's oddly content with merely watching.

☆ - toji fushiguro ⋮ a lover

toji sees you as not only a lover, but the lover. the only one he will have in this life and the next. there's no after you. it's a forever kinda thing.

something so simple as the title of 'lover' is so complex for toji, a man who's a veteran assassin, a man who previously had no regard for anyone else.

you're the only person toji promises to protect, to never lie to, to make happy for as long as his heart pumps and his chest rises with each breath. you're a miracle gifted to him by the gods - though he doesn't know what he's done to deserve it.

he's rough around the edges but with your standing as 'lover', you smooth him out.

he subconsciously thinks of you, always worrying for your satefy. you must be a deep ocean of the emotion known as 'passion' because he's willingly drowning, not even looking for shore.

toji looks at you like you're an extension of himself, the other half of him that the deities intended for him to find. he can't remember times before you or imagine a future without you.

he makes a deal of reminding you that you are his, just as he is completely and utterly yours. as his lover you hold his bloody, beating heart in your hands; he knows you'll keep it safe.

he stares at you like you'll disappear; like he's not even sure you actually exist. you love a man like him after all - that's a miracle in itself.