There's a book that we had in our house growing up that I was obsessed with as a kid. It was just called "PAKISTAN: PAINTINGS BY LIN YONG AND SU HUA" and it was an art book of 100+ paintings/sketches by two Chinese artists who travelled thru Pakistan in 1978 and 1981, a sort of travelogue of their trip, and to little-kid me, it was some of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. I have no idea why we had that book, but I would stare at it for hours, and it made me wish I could draw/paint/do whatever it was that these artists had managed to do.
Anyway, we've moved house a bunch of times and I lost track of the book and haven't seen it for probably two decades now. But I think about it now and again, and had struggled to find it over the years, but I finally, finally got my hands on a copy of my own and i want to cry haha
I was afraid that maybe the art isn't as good as I remembered, being just a kid and all, but I cracked it open and nope, it hits me just the way it used to. Maybe even more now. It's so fucking pretty. Have some random pages:
May I request another mer AU drabble but this time Shen Qingqiu is a merman? Whether Binghe is a human, merman or octobing is up to you
aye aye cap'n đ«Ą warnings on this one for what is definitely a more violent sort of atticwifing
(also i still have like 3 more mer related drabble requests in my inbox, y'all are really into the mer AUs rn huh?? very nice)
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Thereâs a mer following Luo Binghe.Â
Heâs been following Luo Binghe since he was a child, a guardian angel of the sea. Luo Binghe used to throw himself overboard just to feel the merâs gentle touch as heâd drag him back to the surface; at night heâd poke at the little pinpricks in his skin from where the merâs claws had made him bleed despite the gentle way he was held.Â
That was years ago, though. Luo Binghe hasnât seen the mer in a long, long time. One time he fell into the ocean - a genuine accident, that time - and the mer wasnât there, and then the mer was never there, ever again.Â
For a kid who hadnât felt a kind touch from a human since his mother had died, the loss of that merâs rescues had been a devastating loss.Â
When Luo Binghe had realized the mer was still there, and still following Luo Binghe - occasionally leaving out little shells for him, or scaring off sharks when Luo Binghe had to get in the water to scrape barnacles off the ship - the loss had begun to feel more like a betrayal.
The mer hadnât abandoned Luo Binghe - heâd only grown distant, only decided that helping Luo Binghe was only worth it if he never had to touch him.Â
Was the merâs assistance only out of pity, then? Or perhaps just some sort of animal curiosity?Â
The friend that Luo Binghe had imagined himself to have, as a kid struggling to survive the life of an orphan on a pirate ship - did he ever exist, or had it just been a foolish projection of human motivation onto a creature acting on whims that Luo Binghe could never understand?
It wasnât the worst thing that had ever happened to Luo Binghe; not by a long shot. For as long as the mer would keep following him, though, it would itch at him, a problem that was never quite resolved.
Fine, then. Luo Binghe is a long way away from the little orphan kid just trying to survive the high seas, now. If thereâs a problem that itches at him, heâll scratch it until it bleeds.
Once he sets his mind on it, it only takes three days before his crew manages to catch the mer.Â
Luo Binghe stands over him now, taking in the sight of him. Before now, heâd only ever managed glimpses, and his memories of being held by the mer as a child had grown fuzzy. Dragged onto the deck of the ship, the mer is far larger than Luo Binghe had thought: the human head and torso were roughly the same size as Luo Bingheâs, but the merâs tail was so long it seemed more like a serpentâs than a fishâs.Â
Heâs pretty, too - more than just the way his scales glint in the light, or the way the rope of the net digs into his skin in a way that makes him look so soft Luo Binghe could take a bite out of him.
The delicate bridge of his nose, the slant of his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw - Luo Binghe wants to cut him into little pieces to eat almost as badly as he wants to have him stuffed in one beautiful, elegant piece.
The mer had stopped thrashing in the net when heâd seen Luo Binghe approach, though his chest is still heaving with the exertion of it. Luo Binghe watches the frantic rise and fall of it for a long, hypnotizing moment before deciding heâd like to inspect the mer even closer before deciding what is done with him.
âHello there,â Luo Binghe croons, kneeling down in front of the mer.Â
The mer watches him with intelligent, panicked eyes, but makes no sound in return.
âYouâve known me for a long time, now,â Luo Binghe says evenly. âDo you remember my name, from back when I used to try and speak with you?â
The mer licks his lips, a nervous tick that reveals what looks like two separate rows of needle-sharp teeth.
â...Binghe,â the mer says eventually. His voice has a reedy, inhuman quality to it, but the tone of it does not surprise Luo Binghe nearly as much as the sound of his name does.
So you didnât forget me, he thinks almost viciously. You didnât forget, and you were listening.
He doesnât give the mer the satisfaction of hearing those thoughts, though.
âAnd you? Do you have a name, or should I call you as I please?â
This time, the mer remains silent.Â
Luo Binghe hums, assessing the mer from beneath lazy, half-lidded eyes. âIâll give it some thought, then,â he says. âIâve got all the time in the world with you now, after all.â
The merâs fins twitch, his eyes slipping away from Luo Binghe to look for some means of escape.
Luo Binghe decides quite quickly that he doesnât care for the mer to look away from him.
âYou seem able to breathe air just fine,â he says, louder than the soft voice heâd been using before. âAnd you can speak like a human, too.â
The merâs eyes flick to him again, then back away. Luo Binghe narrows his eyes.
Slowly, he leans towards the mer, reaching out with one hand. The net keeps the creature pinned to the deck of the ship, but it wouldnât stop him from snapping Luo Bingheâs fingers off if he got too close.
Luo Binghe brings his hands to the merâs gills anyway. The mer does not try to bite.
âIf you can breathe air just fine,â Luo Binghe says, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of the merâs gills. âI wonder: what do you need these for?â
The mer makes an aborted, panicked movement to jerk away from Luo Bingheâs hand. Luo Binghe catches him by the throat, his fingers sinking into the merâs gills to keep the hold firm, and the mer goes entirely limp.Â
â...Binghe,â The mer says, his voice soft and nearly pleading.Â
Luo Binghe relaxes his grip. He does not pull his fingers away from the merâs gills. Instead, he runs his fingers along them, his touch firmer than before, and slowly - so, so slowly - pushes one finger inside.Â
âI think,â Luo Binghe says softly, âthat I could take these away, and then youâd never have the chance to hide from me again.â
Luo Binghe flicks his gaze up from the merâs gills, stretched painfully around Luo Bingeâs finger, to meet his eyes.Â
The merâs pupils are blown huge. He looks more human like this, without his eyes peering at Luo Binghe through a snakeâs slitted pupils.
Slowly, Luo Binghe withdraws his hand.Â
âWell,â he says. âI have time to think about it.â
the big man is the masculine dom and the dom is the top and the little man is effeminate and transgender but fully passes as a cis man and has top surgery but since he doesnt have bottom surgery he literally has to be a bottom theres no way for someone with a vagina to top and the bottom is the sub and they are both uncomplicatedly homosexual with zero positive emotions for women and they both have adhd and autism but only the kind of autism that doesnt actually disable you and they also crossdress but in a specifically humiliating way (why would a MAN wear a DRESS??? đ€Șđ€Ș etc.) and they live together in a big house that they can both effortlessly afford and they're married and have 2 kids a dog and a cat (because Big man is dog coded and Little man is cat coded) and neither of them have jobs or lasting damage from canon events they've been through or physical disabilities or PTSD that I cant turn into Angsty Ship Content and the sun has a big smiley face and birds are just V shapes on the paper it doesnt have to be more complicated than that you dont have to flesh them out. you dont have to. and if you think about it wouldn't it just be soooo much effort to draw a whole bird?? youre just having fun its mean to ask you for detail. and my teacher lives at the school and the bus driver lives in the bus and everything is exactly the same :)
the unfortunate side effect of developing a more critical eye for fan behaviour as a product of societyâąïž is that new fan takes on a piece of media become fairly predictable. oh the white guy with daddy issues is your favourite? you think the asian man is an adorable subby cinnamon roll? you think the woman in a position of authority is either mom-coded or a total bitch? say less
There used to be a lot of activities that took place around a populated area like a village or town, which you would encounter before you reached the town itself. Most of those crafts have either been eliminated in the developed world or now take place out of view on private land, and so modern authors don't think of them when creating fantasy worlds or writing historical fiction. I think that sprinkling those in could both enrich the worlds you're writing in and, potentially, add useful plot devices.
For example, your travelers might know that they're near civilization when they start finding trees in the woods that have been tapped, for pitch or for sap. They might find a forester's trap line and trace it back to his hut to get medical care. Maybe they retrace the passage of a peasant and his pig out hunting for truffles. If they're coming along a coast, maybe your travelers come across the pools where sea water is dried down to salt, or the furnaces where bog iron ore is smelted.
Maybe they see a column of smoke and follow it to the house-sized kilns of a potter's yard where men work making bricks or roof tiles. From miles away they could smell the unmistakeable odor of pine sap being rendered down into pitch, and follow that to a village. Or they hear the flute playing of a shepherd boy whiling away the hours in the high pasture.
They could find the clearing where the charcoal burners recently broke down an earth kiln, and follow the hoof prints and drag marks of their horse and sledge as they hauled the charcoal back to civilization. Or follow the sound of metal on stone to a quarry or gravel pit. Maybe they know they're nearly to town when they come across a clay bank with signs of recent clay gathering.
Of course around every town and city there will be farms, more densely packed the closer you are. But don't just think of fields of grains or vegetables. Think of managed woodlands, like maybe trees coppiced-- cut and then regrown--to customize the shape or size of the branches. Cows being grazed in a communal green. Waiting as a huge flock of ducks is driven across the road. Orchards in bloom.
If they're approaching by road, there will be things best done out of town. The threshing floor where grain is beaten with flails or run through crushing wheels to separate the grain from its casing, and then winnowed, using the wind to carry away the chaff. Laundresses working in the river, their linens bleaching on the grass at the drying yard. The stench of the tanners, barred from town for stinking so badly. The rushing wheel-race and great creaking wheel of the flour mill.
If it's a larger town, there might be a livestock market outside the gates, with goats milling in woven willow pens or chickens in wooden cages. Or a line of horses for the wealthier buyer or your desperate travelers. There might be a red light district, escaping the regulations of the city proper, or plain old slums. More industrial yards, like the yards where fabric is dyed (these might also smell quite bad, like rotting plant material, or urine).
There are so many things that preindustrial people did and would find familiar that we just don't know about now. So much of life was lived out in the open for anyone to see. Make your world busy and loud and colorful!
The coppice and pollard systems are one of my favorite pre-modern things, it's just so visually unique and sensible, but most people haven't heard about it.
When you coppice, you cut the tree close to the ground, so only the trunk is left, then the tree puts out fairly straight shoots that are great for firewood. They would typically have these trees harvested on rotation so new trees would be ready every year.
This is a coppiced tree:
When you pollard, you cut the tree to the trunk, but higher, and let the branches grow for longer. They'll be be nice and straight (depending on species) with fewer knots, and suitable to various crafts without much need to work the wood. Sadly seems to be etymologically unrelated to "pole", though the branches from these trees were used to make poles. Part of why you do this instead of coppicing is that the shoots are out of reach of animals.
This is a pollarded tree:
It's very likely that you'd see something like this as a sign of civilization as you came toward a town or village, depending on the species of tree that they have available, though note that this is something you do when you have a timeline of many years, rather than something you set up for the year after.
Tried to tip a tumblr blog at 1am and it was such a suspicious transaction it immediately put a full fraud freeze on my account
Fortunately, banks no longer just ask 'did you make that transaction' they want to make sure you weren't scammed into making that transaction and 5mins after their call will give away all your money anyway.
This is an honest to goodness life saving movement and I cannot be happier banks are adopting it
Unfortunately, it meant I had to have the most embarrassing financial call of my life
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Me: Ah yeah I was just trying to tip a tumblr blog
Cash: right and were you directed there by a Facebook link? An Instagram advert?
Me: no I was just on tumblr...on purpose
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Caah: and this person asked you for money?
Me: oh no they just had a funny story, which happened to be about money and I thought, "wouldn't it be funny if I tipped them"
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Me: * covering a reblog by reblog update on the adventures my mutual was having *
Cash: okay I don't think that can actually happen though..
Me: It might not have, but i was happy to tip them just because it was funny
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Cash: and how well do you think you know this person?
Me: *considers explaining how much I know about a beloved mutual without ever knowing their name or face* ... I have no idea who this person is
I think in the end Cash decided there was no saving me from myself
My partner made this comic, and it is beautiful and amazing, and youâre all missing out by not seeing the original on paper because itâs even prettier there!
Why is it that every time I google something like "Are olives poisonous to cats" the top results are always like "Fun fact: Cats are carnivores! This means that they eat meat. There is no reason to include olives in a cat's diet. You should feed your cat cat food, which is dry or wet food especially designed for cats. You can purchase this at a store." like is there a single person alive on the planet who's googled "Are blueberry muffins safe for cats" because they're planning on switching their cat to a muffin-only diet??? No, I'm asking because the little bastard somehow popped open the packet while I was putting away the groceries and dragged one under the couch before I could react and now I need to know if I should call the after-hours vet. "Cats should not eat spaghetti." NO SHIT, SHERLOCK!!!! "Try to keep human food away from cats." i live in a studio apartment with a completely silent and permanently hungry apex predator who has the intelligence of a toddler and the desperate Machiavellian cunning of a creature who spent his formative months on the streets. He can already open doors and he is this đ close to learning how to open the microwave. He is stronger than me and covered in knives. So im gonna do my best but for the moment i just need you to tell me whether this yoghurt is going to kill my son y/n
I've been using the pet poison hotline's poison list cause it has a search function. It also tells you whether something is mildly, moderately, or severely toxic which can be very handy! It doesn't contain like everything but it might be a good place to start, it also includes plants for fellow houseplant lovers <3
Explore Pet Poison HelplineÂźs vast knowledge on poisons by reviewing our pet poison list. Explore our top 10 poison and holiday poison lists
For plants specifically, thereâs also a wildly detailed set of posts and listings about toxicity on the old, wonderful, Plants Are the Strangest People blog
When Xie Lian first sees Hua Cheng's true form in the gambler's den, it's noted that it's actually very similar to his San Lang form, just slightly older, sharper and, you know, the eye thing.
Which raises a fascinating question: if Xie Lian had seen Wuming's face before he got dispersed, would Hua Cheng have picked a different form for their reunion?
I'm inclined to say no, because man really doesn't seem like he's trying that hard to hide who he is (San Lang's fake backstory is word-for-word the same as Honghong-er's backstory). Plus, the jig would be up once Xie Lian asked to see his real face. But this does give me the amusing mental image of Xie Lian turning to look at this sassy teenager he's talking to and almost falling out of the ox cart like a cat seeing a cucumber.
(Is this inspired by me rotating one of my WuLian Week WIPs in my brain microwave too long? ...Mayhaps.)
I tend to assume the San Lang form is just like Hua Chengâs form, but like yknow tanned skin, human ears, two light eyes the same colour, maybe dark brown rather than black hair, so when he sees it for the first time, heâs hit with the oh this could have been what he looked like alive. So itâs like heâs seen a ghost. Heâs crashing out.
Could this be a reincarnation? No, surely this is the ghost king, but how does he know that face? Is he taunting Xie Lian? Like, I think heâd be way more upset, grouchy, and confused, wondering if itâs a trick or wishful thinking, because San Lang doesnât seem mean-spirited, and sometimes he does act so similar, but no, surely not⊠Then the reveal happens and itâs like oh this is the grey dead skin I remember and the dark hair and the dark eye, oh it really is my Wu Ming like I think thatâs when the emotion really hits him.
Oh, he would crash out so hard. He'd definitely be hoping it's just reincarnation, because the alternative is that this Crimson Rain Sought Flower guy knows about Wuming. And if he knows about Wuming, what else does he know? And if he knows, then why is he following Xie Lian around with that face and being so nice and helpful? Boy's in a psychological torment nexus.
And then you take into consideration Hua Cheng's behaviour during the Banyue Arc and... yeah. I think San Lang jumping into the Sinner's Pit would give Xie Lian war flashbacks.
Exactly like thereâs the PTSD of OMFG white no face knew these things is this him is this a trap fuck itâs a trap but omg heâs so like Wu Ming and when he kneeled to me to suck that venom out I got war flashbacks and I canât I canât he jumped into the sinners pit like heâs stressing but then heâs just so happy Shi Qingxuan and Lang Qingqiu are so confused because they are on a mission but Xie Lian is sobbing and clutching onto crimson rain like he canât let go and crimson rain is LETTING him like yknow Shi Qingxuan is fujoing out.
If you have a senior to check on ask them to "borrow" something small so they think they're helping you.
My mom (72) recently downsized and moved close enough to me that checking on her in person regularly is not really out of my way, but when I was obvious about it she wouldnât let me âstop-byâ because she was, âfineâ.
Well, one day I actually needed some aluminum foil so I called and asked if I could borrow enough to cover a baking tin because I didnât want to run to the store. She said sure, but when I got to her house she needed furniture moved, a wasp nest removed, and her coffee pot fixed. After I got the foil I mentioned each thing cautiously and she let me take care of them for her. So next weekend Iâll need a cup of rice and check on her again.
Even better, hereâs an array of more reciprocal options for building relationship & supporting seniorsâ dignity and independence:
- ask for something they can actually help you with. Elders have skills. Mending? Advice about knitting, gardening, home repair, nevermind professional training?
-ask about their experiences. âI was reading about xyz event the other day & I would love to know what that time was like for you. Can we chat about it over tea?â Goes double for family history for relatives.
-âSomeone gave me this [or, I ended up with extra] & I donât need/want it, but I bet you have a use for it. Can I bring it over? I would hate for it to go to waste.â
-work side-by-side. They get your physical help, you get their experience & expertise. âCould I come over & have you show me how you [used to] prune your gorgeous roses? Iâm trying to get better with mine.â
Being critical of your interests is sooooo fun when you have the critic gene & then you sound kind of insane to the average tv watcher when you're like "this is my favorite show, It's Racist" & then you try to clarify what you mean & get that [Speech (legendary) - FAILURE] "the racism is really interesting though"
[Speech (legendary) - SUCCESS] I find the sociopolitical context of pulpy old sci-fi born circa the civil rights movement really fascinating to analyze especially when it was progressive for its time but still reveals the writers' unexamined biases in the subtext
ok so I looked it up, and it turns out they made a track out of PVC pipes, down a hill. The owner didn't realise PVC expanded in the heat, so on a turn the track just fell apart and the dude inside went over a fucking free way and into a swamp.
The funniest part is that the inspector was watching the whole time, and once the ball stopped he left without saying anything. Park management just shut it down then and there.
"The ball cleared a small hill, briefly going airborne, then zipped right across Route 94, the two-lane road splitting the park. Cars honked and slammed on their brakes. If there had been opposing traffic, Frank would have become part of a real-life game of Pong, volleying from one bumper to another.
Still in pursuit, we followed the ball toward a small lake in Motor World that had been earmarked for a fleet of tiny bumper boats for children. The area wasnât open yet, but the empty boats were being tested and floated on the surface. The ball soared over the grass and smashed into several of them, scattering the others with rippling waves from the impact, which launched some of the boats several feet in the air.
Charlie and Ken waded into the water looking for the hatch. After some difficulty, they got it open. Charlie pulled Frank out by grabbing him under his armpits like a baby. Frank crawled up the bank, coughing and sputtering. He splayed across the grass as we all stared at the ball, which bobbed in the water like it was attached to a fishing lure.
We did not ask for the inspectorâs report, nor did we ever hear of one being filed. Ken Bailey returned to Canada. The snow-makers cleared away the PVC. Told to dispose of the Bailey Ball, they rolled it into the woods, where it remained for many years."
I don't know that this beats the teeth story, but it's pretty great.
