#Ethically Sourced Pearls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingfyre · 7 months

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– katabasis | p.js

There’s an incomparable beauty to it – death wearing the skin of life.

Jisung sees it too.

PAIRING. park jisung x gender neutral!reader

GENRE. urban fantasy, taxidermist!reader, rich buyer!jisung, monster hunter!donghyuck

WORD COUNT. 4.3k

WARNINGS. cryptids and monsters, folklore, mentions of corpses, implied murder

TAGLIST. @moonlightjeno, @haikchoo-main, @adorablele

NOTES. read the warnings if you get confused

He’s here again.

The tall man with the pearl necklace who never actually purchases anything, to your dismay, and instead spends his time looking, only looking, at the same mounts over and over again before rushing away when you get close. You often catch him nodding and whispering to himself. Studying them, perhaps? Looking for imperfections that aren’t there.

You have half a mind to shove the mounted specimen into his hands and dare him to find a single fault. You pride yourself on being the best at what you do. And so you find yourself walking up behind him, silent steps on porcelain floor. “Hello!”

The man startles, broken out of his stupor, turning around with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows. A timid smile fast replaces the look on his face, and he greets you in a hushed voice, "Hello."

"May I help you with something?"

"Oh, I'm just… looking around," the man says. He shakes out his hair and glances at the mounts, eyes flitting over them one by one. The smell of dried, pressed marigolds wafts through the air – a sweet floral scent with a bitter edge.

"Are you looking for anything specific?"

"I – I wanted to start collecting,” he says after a while, glancing at you before his gaze wanders away once more. “I'm afraid I haven't really thought past that…"

"Well, that's alright. Easily remedied," you nod, offering a smile you hope seems understanding. "Do you know what it is you’d like to start collecting?”

The man stands and stares at you with a blank look. Moments pass without the sound of the man’s voice and so you suggest, “Birds? Insects?”

You laugh at the face the man makes at your last suggestion. “A clear no for the insects, then.”

“Uh, well – I’d like a mount for my living room,” the man tries for a smile – bashful, sweet –, taking his hands out of his pocket. He clasps his hands together and tilts his head up to the ceiling, looking lost in thought before he catches himself and continues, “Something classy? Majestic? Something to make it less … empty.”

“I certainly have plenty that fit these conditions,” you smile, finding something oddly endearing in the way the man behaves himself.

You beckon for him to follow and begin walking toward the collection of your larger mounts, leaving the man to trail after. Though much unlike your usual clients, there have been few like him who have come to your shop without knowing what it is they want – typically the ones who walk out empty-handed. It’s not something that bothers you, but you’re determined to end this one differently.

The man stays silent as you begin to provide advice on the variety of mounts that would best suit his needs and expectations.

“And these… are sourced ethically?”

You blink, baring teeth in a wide smile. “Of course! I have different sources for all the specimens I work on.” You turn around, gesturing to all the different mounts and figures displayed around you. “Hunters, of course. Veterinarians, Animal Control, and the local Pet Store often donate as well – strays, pets that have passed away, and animals who cannot be re-released."

The man nods, mouth shaped in an ‘O’ as he listens to your usual spiel to clients who come concerned, asking the very same. ‘Ethical Taxidermy’ is a label you find as humorous as it is ill-defined, slapped on difficult work to make more appealing. It’s not something you’re innocent nor repentant of when it comes to the business you truly want to run.

"Better off here, wouldn’t you agree?” you tilt your head. “Better off taken care of, preserved to look as they had when alive, rather than thrown in the garbage or cremated.”

“Given a second life,” the man murmurs, looking straight back at you, unafraid to meet your eye.

A smile graces your lips, pleased. “That’s right.”

Silence ensues – strange, but not entirely uncomfortable. When the man averts his gaze, turning his attention back to the array of mounts he’s seen time and time before, you take the opportunity presented to you. You rake your eyes over raven hair and olive skin, a Greek nose, and full lips, rosy and dampened by a quick flash of tongue. Eye the patterned scarf, silk and expensive, draped over long limbs dressed in a brown sweater and a pink button-down, and the white pearls adorning his ears and hanging from his neck. It’s something out of a magazine – the way the man dresses.

“It’s an incredible collection you have,” the man remarks. He looks back at you with a curious gaze. “What has been your most extraordinary project to date?”

It’s not a difficult question to answer.

“An ongoing one at the moment,” you say, thinking fondly of the mount that waits for you behind closed doors. “A long, repetitive, arduous procedure that I continue to better my abilities with.”

The room stays quiet. You do not say more and the man strangely does not ask. You look back into dark brown eyes and smile, strangely aware of the beat of your heart.

Moments pass after moment until the silence is broken. “Which would you recommend?” he asks. “Out of all the mounts?”

“Generally, I would recommend starting small if you don’t know where to begin. Work your way up to bigger mounts. But if you have no personal preference and merely want something big – something that takes up a considerable amount of space in your living room without crowding it – I suppose it all depends on how large your living room is then.”

“Quite big,” the man says, nodding to himself. “Very big.”

“Then a bull moose, perhaps,” you say. You lead the man to where the mount stands; the proud being it is, and rightfully so. You’ve strived to keep it all in this portrayal – the confidence in its gait, the strength in its physicality, the pride in its abilities. “A majestic piece. Powerful. An incredible way to lessen the emptiness of a large room.”

You wait – wait until you’re rewarded with the words you want to hear.

“I’ll take it.”

You smile. “Perfect.” You’ve done this hundreds of times before – but this feels different. This man will be back, hasn’t even left yet, and you already find yourself looking forward to it all the same.

“I’ll need you to fill this out,” you tell him, when you’ve relocated to the counter and you’re handing him the formalities. “Your name, date of birth, the address you’d like me to deliver it to, and your signature, please.”

It’s a process as swift as it is quiet.

The bell rings when the man leaves your studio and you glance at the paper in your hands.

Park Jisung.

Jisung returns not even two weeks later and purchases another mount – a towering menace of a beauty that you had slaved on after Kun had brought it in nearly a year ago. One of the oldest mounts still left in your store, you’re almost sad to see it go. Almost.

You had seen him before he came in – watched him bumble in his patterned scarf, pearl necklace strung neatly on his neck, pausing right before he pulled the door open. The bell had rung and you smiled from your desk, bright and wide.

“Here for another?”

Jisung had nodded, a sheepish smile on his lips, and it was all too easy for you to lead him to your biggest mounts.

Jisung naturally gravitates to your bigger mounts, looking for more to make his space less empty he says. Make it comfortable, make it occupied.

It’s all Jisung will consider seriously, all he’ll consider with the intention of actually taking it off your hands. Naturally, you disagree; reasons with him that smaller specimens can have a mighty presence too, when displayed correctly.

(Jisung takes home a box that visit, a golden hamster inside that you find Jisung bears a resemblance to. You find out later on that Jisung keeps it in his bedroom and is elated.)

It becomes a routine. You see the passing months in pieces, but standing front and center of your mind is this: Jisung returning with his bottomless pockets of money and simply buying another creature, another mount – whatever he likes like it’s nothing to him. Thousands spent, tens of thousands spent, all on finished works, but he comes back, intervals never longer than a dozen days.

“These can’t all be for your living room,” you remark one day, watching as Jisung signs away thousands of dollars yet again.

“It’s not,” Jisung says easily, not even bothering to look up. “I’ve emptied out a room for them.”

You stare until Jisung meets your eyes and you laugh, suddenly breathless. You tell Jisung to show you a picture the next time he comes back, but Jisung merely shakes his head.

“You should see it in person,” Jisung says. “It’s better in person.”

Your heart thuds, and you smile, “I’ll wait for your invitation.”

Change comes in a quiet voice, thinly veiled curiosity asked in a voice that’s grown so familiar you don't register it at first.

It's a simple question – but it changes everything, that much is clear.

“How do I commission a specific creature?”

“Usually, you’d have to pick a hunter first,” you say. “Commission the kill and then instruct them to bring the corpse to me.”

“Oh.”

You glance at him, wandering back and forth, unable to stand still, from mount to mount like he hasn’t seen these a dozen times by now. “Which would you like?” you ask, tilting your head. You place your pen down and lean back into your chair. “I have friends who can hunt it for you.”

Jisung looks back at you. There's a moment of prolonged silence and you observe the way Jisung lowers his gaze to the ground and blinks – the way his eyes glaze over like he’s gone somewhere else entirely. He walks back to the counter slowly, meets your eyes slowly. It takes a while for Jisung to communicate what he wants. “I want something so special I believe only you would be able to provide.”

“Flattering,” you say, eyebrow raised and a smile pulling at your lips. “I won’t do it for free despite that.”

Jisung doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “I’ll pay whatever amount you’d like.”

“What is it then?”

Jisung blinks – opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Cryptids,” he says. “I’d like to commission a cryptid mount.”

It’s hard to ignore the spark that crackles inside your stomach after Jisung utters his request. The ceiling lights feel a little stronger, white and bright and casting shadows on Jisung’s face. Angular lines on the essence of youth.

“And if I told you I don’t do them?”

Jisung’s face stays carefully blank. “Then I would ask you to forget I ever asked.”

You laugh. Shaking your head, you comb a hand through your hair as you stand from your seat. “Cryptid mounting isn’t illegal here, Jisung. Looked down upon, sure. But it’s never really done by the people who matter, is it?”

It's endearing to you – the way Jisung ducks his head, skirting the statement he could've easily known through some research, skirting the question he already knows the answer to. You don’t wait for an answer Jisung won't provide. You turn around; Jisung follows.

The cryptid room is bigger though less filled, with a higher ceiling to accommodate for the towering heights the creatures have. You look back at Jisung who looks around, eyes brimming with the sort of wonder you would argue one could only see in a child.

“Not your first time seeing one?”

“No,” Jisung shakes his head. “No, my parents kept one on display in our living room as I grew up.”

“I see,” you say. “What was it, exactly?”

“A Baku.”

“Dream-eaters,” you note. Common then, rarer now, after all the hunting history and folklore have put it through. You’ve never mounted a Baku before. “Did it work?”

Jisung makes a face, pressing his hands to his cheeks, eyes still trained on the exhibit, jumping from creature to creature. His voice comes out distracted. “Hm? Not really.”

“Is that what established the curiosity?”

“I suppose so.”

The answer comes in a voice bordering absentminded, so you leave it at that, letting him pace the room and explore the options he's been presented.

“I’ll take this one,” Jisung points to a Wendigo you’d mounted months before you ever approached Jisung, abandoned by its original buyer after seeing the sheer size of it. “Along with the commission.”

You smile, thinking of the present that came alongside it.

"A what?"

"A Katshituashku," you drawl into your phone, dragging every syllable out. Donghyuck is seated, in what you would guess is the little gas station at the corner of Main and Seventh, toying with the straw in his drink. You see Jaemin in the background and consider sending him a wave before he disappears from the frame entirely.

"No, shut up, I heard you the first time," Donghyuck says, a scowl pulling at his lips. He looks up from his drink, “A Katshituashku?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s –” Donghyuck pauses. The interest on his face is evident; taking down a Katshituashku would make for great publicity, near invincible as it is, only wounded through the soles of its feet. You already know the answer before Donghyuck says it. “Where?”

“How would I know? That’s your job.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and sets his drink aside. “Sorry I assumed the buyer knew where what he wanted was?”

You sigh, “He mentioned Maine?”

“How much?”

“For free.”

Donghyuck reaches out and grabs his phone from whatever it’s leaning on, shoving his face closer to the camera. He narrows his eyes, “I’m hanging up.”

“Have you ever known me to be a cheapskate?” you huff. “Do it quickly and you can name whatever price you want, yes?”

Donghyuck lights up, well aware that you would give him whatever amount he asks for – if kept reasonable. He grins and salutes you through his screen, “Whatever you say goes, boss man.”

You text Jisung as soon as it arrives.

The body was delivered today. You can come see it, if you’re free.

Jisung shows up in record time.

You don't know why you ask, but the words come easy, like it's been sitting on your tongue for years, waiting to be said at that exact moment. "Would you like to watch?"

Jisung stills, looking at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"Would you like to watch me work on your commission?" you cock your head to the side. "You can come whenever you’d like to. If you have nothing else to do, that is."

“I’d love to!” he beams, clasping his hands together akin to a prayer. “To stay and watch, please.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a job? Matters to attend to?”

“Not one that expects me too much.”

"A strange job. Or the ideal one. If you're earning enough to be buying as many mounts as you are." You purse your lips. “Stay where I can see you. Peripheral or central vision. I don’t like people wandering around my workshop without my knowledge.”

Shifting from one foot to the other, Jisung tugs at the ends of his clothes, nodding at every word that comes out of your mouth.

“Most importantly – do not distract me,” you warn him, wagging your finger at the taller man. “Else it is your commission quality on the line.”

The smile on Jisung's face is brighter and warmer than any bonfire you’ve ever set.

Jisung proves capable of following your simple rule the first few weeks, only asking his burning questions once you’ve put down your tools and seated yourself beside him for a break.

“Isn’t it limiting?”

“What is?”

“Not opening during business hours. Being open six hours a day, only three days a week limits your market reach.”

You shrug. It’s always worked for you. More time to dedicate to the crafting process, more to maximize productivity. “I reach the people I want to reach. Friends, friends of friends.” People who can afford it. People who can and have no problem ignoring the illegal aspects that could come with the practice, you leave unsaid.

“You’re one of the only ones who come to visit my lonely little store, anyway. Most customers don’t personally come to the shop,” you continue. “They call, they email, they make the order and put in a deposit. Then I ship the mount when I’m finished.”

Jisung keeps quiet. Stays in his place, in the corner of your eye, and absentmindedly traces the wood grain of the table. His eyes never seem to leave you. Not until you look back.

“I’m not in it for the money,” you say, after a long stretch of silence. God knows you have enough.

“I know,” Jisung says, a small smile on his face. “Otherwise you’d be charging me for this commission a whole lot more.”

Jisung leaves and you finally get to work on what you’ve been looking forward to all week.

A present from Donghyuck. A burden lifted from Donghyuck.

You open another door to Mark’s smiling face and take in the cool air that greets your face. You sigh – deep, anticipatory. Content.

Mark is smiling at you, and so you smile back, wide and full, eager to keep Mark at his best.

“I almost thought you were on display.”

You look up from what you’re doing and stare at Jisung, sitting straight and proper from where he observes. “What did you say?”

“I almost thought it was you on display,” Jisung leans forward onto the table in front of him, “So focused. Unmoving. Beautiful.”

“You should be,” Jisung murmurs, nodding to himself, and you watch the way his eyes rake over your face, the way he stares and so unabashedly meets your eyes with an indecipherable intensity. Something close to wonder. Something close to desire.

“Jisung-ah,” you say and imagine yourself standing from your seat. Walking over to Jisung and bending him over the table he’s leaning on. Jisung would let you. You know that much.

“Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

When Jisung leaves, You stay in your workshop and stare at the closed door leading to the cold room. Stare until your breath deepens and your heart rate rises.

I almost thought it was you on display.

You find that you don’t dislike the thought of it at all.

You could be. In another world. Created by the very few hands you trust. You would be a beautiful mount – Jisung’s mount – situated in his living room, his study, his bedroom. Wherever Jisung would want to place you.

Like Mark.

The first and only time Jisung breaks your rule is at your own instruction.

It comes with a cost.

“Jisung-ah?”

No answer.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a frustrated frown. “Jisung, I need those tools now.”

How long does it take to retrieve a honing steel and a simple sanding stick? Still, you receive no answer. You shudder, feeling the brush of cool air on your skin. Did Jisung open a window?

“Jisung-ah, what in the world are you doing –”

Then, you look back and see the door to the wrong room open, feeling your heart drop from your chest. The drag of your chair echoes loudly through the room, scraping against porcelain tiles. You reach for the shaving knife on the next table and wrap your fingers around it with a vicelike grip, taking tentative steps toward the opened room.

Mark has always been the most dominating presence in a room. It extends to death, still the center of attention, situated in your cold room. Jisung is transfixed.

Something ugly blooms inside your chest, a bitter flower full of thorns.

“So this is why Mark hyung’s body hasn’t been found,” Jisung says when you step into the room. “Everyone assumes he’s just been eaten by something. Flesh stripped to the bone.”

Jisung takes a step closer, and you watch as he tilts his head and begins circling the mount with a blank look on his face.

You grip the tool at hand a little tighter, and imagine what Jisung would look like – head bashed in, flesh and bone drenched in red, a face once so handsome unrecognizable to the human eye. A shame, really.

Or perhaps you’ve earned a new addition to your growing collection.

“He looks so,” Jisung pauses, lips pressing together in a tight line. “Preserved.”

“You captured his smile so well—” Jisung laughs softly and you do not know what to make of it. It’s not what you’ve expected, not what you’ve daydreamed or dreaded during those few sleepless nights.

You don’t know what you expected.

“This is embalming, isn’t it?” Jisung asks. The smile on his face is still the same – as good and as pure as you’ve ever seen on his lips. “How long does it take you? How often? Do you do it by yourself?”

“Get out.”

Jisung reaches for you, a kind, excited look in his eye that must betray what you imagine he must truly be feeling. “Y/N, it’s –”

“Get the fuck out of my store before I change my mind, Jisung,” you snap.

Jisung pulls his hands back and looks at you, taking a step back. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks at you – a graveyard in his mouth, filled with all the words you won’t let him say.

It’s a terrible decision that hits you full force in the stomach once Jisung disappears from sight.

Jisung doesn’t come back the next day. Or the next week. Or the week after that.

The shop feels emptier, colder. Mark’s family do not come barging in, looking for their son’s dead body, still whole and preserved, like you had intended to keep.

You continue working on the commission during the day and scream your frustration into your room during the night.

Jisung returns twenty-three days later, an hour before closing times.

You see him before he comes in, in his brown sweater and pearl earrings, pulling at the door with the certainty that he’d grown into all those months ago.

It’s too easy, inviting him back into your workshop. Too easy, falling back into old habits.

“How did you get his body?”

You evade the question and throw one of your own. “You knew him?”

“Our families are friends.”

“And were you?”

“I looked up to him,” Jisung shrugs. “I wanted to be a hunter like him – and his whole family before him, I suppose – when I was younger.”

“But?”

“My parents forbade it.”

You hum as you prepare the mold, carving muscles and veins into place one after the other. You’re making good time – further along than you had expected to be at this point. “Well, it’s a good thing they did. You’d likely fall on your weapon before even spotting the cryptid.”

“I wouldn’t fall on my weapon at all!” Jisung makes an offended sound, plump lips pursed into a pout before you send him a look that reminds him of his volume. He slouches, curling into himself before murmuring, “I’d just need training. I could’ve been a hunter if I’d gotten some.”

"Maybe." You could see it. Bloodstains on hunter's clothes, dried mud on leather boots, lethality at hand. You glance at Jisung, pressing your lips together. “You could’ve.”

“We might’ve met earlier if I had become one,” Jisung muses.

"You could still be one," you say. "Then I'd have you hunt for me."

“Was Mark your first?”

A face flashes before your eyes – striking features complemented by delicateness; sharp eyes and full lips with a captivating draw. The first. The failure. The reason why you started.

So significant then, now a muddled memory you struggle to hold on to by a loose thread. A corpse in the ground that you’ll forever regret.

You try to smile. Was Mark your first? Of course not. First victory? First triumph? Perhaps, you could say that. It’s not perfection yet, but it’s the closest you’ve gotten by far. But to get to even this level of mediocrity, you needed practice, you needed failure – as all great artists do. “What do you think?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

Moments after moments pass. You don’t need to look up from your work to know that Jisung is staring. He always is. You don’t ever want him to look away.

“Could I see him again?”

You close your eyes, pausing your work and hovering your file over the foam. “Jisung –”

“Please,” comes the plea, “Just for a moment.”

Jisung has a way of slipping through defenses, a way of pushing through the rifts with glittering eyes and quiet pleas.

Or perhaps you simply let him.

Walking inside the cold room with an audience to something you’d never meant to have on display just yet is disconcerting.

Not as it had weeks before. But unsettling nevertheless.

It's not ready. Not perfect. Not worth presenting to someone you want to show nothing less than magnificence to.

But Jisung seems to think otherwise.

"Have I mentioned how much I love your work?" Jisung turns back to face you and smiles widely. There’s something in his eyes that washes a wave of warmth all over your body. It's admiration. Devotion.

Slowly, sweetly, you smile back and tilt your head. “No, I don’t think you have.”

Black loafers click against porcelain tiles as Jisung walks towards you, closer and closer, until you see nothing but kind eyes and full lips. The air smells like marigolds and you draw in a deep breath.

“Y/N,” Jisung says.

Mark’s watching as you reach up, cold fingertips on warm skin, cupping Jisung’s cheek. Jisung sighs, deep, content, and presses closer, closing his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says again.

Inhale. Exhale. A breath of warm air against your lips.

Jisung will make the journey with you.

The journey to perfection.

#bjnet #nct dream #nct #park jisung #nct dream angst #nct dream scenarios #jaemin #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #nct dream fanfic #haechan #mark lee

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itzayahuatlmermaid · 5 months

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1) the beaded necklace I'm wearing is handmade with an Oyster shell pendant that I sustainably hand sourced from the island I live near, cut, and drilled. I also added ethically sourced purple sea urchin spines! As well as glass beads, beading filament, silver plated wire, and a silver plated clasp! Oyster shells represent love, beauty, intuition, sensuality, fertility, and divine feminine energy. The purple sea urchin spines hold very protective energies that also encourage the wearer to advocate for oneself. Both represent the element of Water, the Western direction, and the Heart chakra 💜

2) the longer necklace is made with a small Oyster shell that I also hand sourced and drilled to create a pendant! Wire wrapped to the pendant is a baroque champagne pearl. I also used soft black cotton cording. This is honestly one of my favorite cord necklaces I've ever made! Oyster shells represent love, beauty, intuition, sensuality, fertility, and divine feminine energy. Pearls also hold these properties 💗 Both represent the element of Water, the Western direction, and the Heart chakra 💙

I'm going to be vending these pieces and more at a market today! It'll be my first market in about two months and I'm very excited and a little nervous. But I have faith that I'll do well! I don't feel as prepared as I would've liked to be because my main focus has been on school and final exams these past few weeks, but I know I'll be alright. I also definitely still have a good amount of items that I'll be bringing. Which include handmade jewelry, candles, and salves! : )

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starscatteredsky · 7 months

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tipz 4 a sea wolf therian? ashdhdj :3

tips for sea wolves

pt: tips for sea wolves

make/commission a therian mask

practice vocals

make/get gear

go swimming! lakes, oceans, public pools, anywhere you want to!

practice quadrobics!

collect beach things! shells, beach glass, pebbles, sand dollars, pearls, etc (i’d recommend finding ethically sourced items if you’re not able to collect them yourself!!)

wear lots of big fluffy coats!

claim a territory, perhaps by water if you can!

try making a pawprint with your hands in soil, mud, snow, sand, or even in clay or with paint/ink and paper if you want to keep it!!

amber or yellow coloured contacts!

hope these help!! -👾

Requests open!!!

[image description:

a DNI banner with the background being the promotional image for Little Nightmares 2. The writing reads:

"DNI: radqueers, proshippers, radfems/TERFs, antikin/antitherian, homophobic/ ableist/ anti ACAB/ transphobic/ rasist/ antisemitic/ xenophobic/ antitheist/ anti athiest/ bigoted in any fashion, NSFW/sh/ed/cringe centered blog, fakeclaimer

Before you interact: We are pro mspec gays/lesbians, anti endo/tulpa "systems", enjoy MCYT/DSMP, pro self diagnoses with extensive research, multiple alters are punks/ anarchists"

end description]

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swampstew · 1 year

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KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight's story. Rated Mature for language.

Killer is a TikTok content creator recording cooking and baking videos, and Eustass Kid is his taste tester. These are there shenanigans. This series was entirely inspired by Instagram Star - Justinsaiyann - a very good looking and buff baker who shows off his skills and glutes in the kitchen. Written to star the Kid Pirates in a modern setting.

With the camera set in place, Killer dusted his apron and straightened his helmet one last time before pressing the ‘Go Live’ button, muttering a quick, "It's show time," under his breath.

“Hello, Killer here,” raising a hand in the air, the quarter sleeve of his dress shirt rolled neatly on his forearm. “Time for another day of relaxing vibes and delicious desserts. Today, I’m making Double Chocolate Mint Brownies. I love a goody, gooey brownie, especially when there’s mini chocolate chips and ganache involved.”

As he spoke the well-rehearsed introduction, Killer wandered around the kitchen pulling out mixing tools and fixing himself a glass of bubble milk tea, congregating on the island countertop. Oven already preheated, eggs and butter on standby and at room temperature. Slurping up a tapioca ball, he paused for a minute while he chewed.

“Mm, ‘scuse me, didn’t expect that one to come up all the way. Tasty. Moving on, you know my number one motto: A clean and sterile working environment is best when dealing with things you intend to eat. And please, enough with the Jason Vorhees jokes, my mask looks nothing like his. I’m trying to make a name for myself as an independent serial killer……of hunger and all your hearts,” he brought his hands together to make a heart shape for the audience.

The ping of a microtransaction being made caught Killer’s attention, leaning close to his phone. Someone had bought and redeemed a highlighted message, and it was one of those moments he wished he hadn’t added that incentive, now being forced to read and answer it live.

“MurderinoSquadAssemble has this to say – ‘a serial killer of hunger and OUR hearts? Seems sus but ok. #redflagbehavior.’ Calm down armchair detective. For the record, I haven’t been caught yet and it won’t be to the likes of you.”

Biting down a chuckle, Killer stepped back to put on plastic gloves, a baking hat, and his favorite apron. It was a faded blue color but what really made it endearing for him, was the print.

That’s Hot

It had a small whisk and measuring spoons sprawled on the bottom, and the capital T had a baker’s hat falling off it. Underneath the text, a stovetop on fire. A gift from Kid on his 25th birthday.

Smiling privately, Killer turned to give the audience his side profile as he tied the apron strings. His dress shirt clung to his muscled arms, threatening to burst if he flexed too hard. His ass looked firm and thick in the dark chino relaxed pants he wore.

Prepping the baking tray, Killer explained the ingredients he was using and his choices for alternatives. He preferred to use ethically sourced chocolate and tapioca flour instead of all-purpose flour. He used vegan butter but liked to brown it first to caramelize a bit before combining it to the batter.

“This flour is what I used to make the tapioca pearls for my milk tea in my 14th video. It’s still up if you want to check it out and give it some love,” he poured the batter into the pans.

Turning around completely, he walked to the oven to place the pan on the middle rack. Killer didn’t need to bend down as much as he did to place the pan inside. He also didn’t need to jut his hips backwards a little to make his butt look bigger on camera, but it was nice hearing the pings echoing in the kitchen as he was gifted with tips and praise. Not that he’d admit that to anyone of course.

Killer turned the volume of his Bluetooth speaker louder, enjoying the lofi channel playlist he chose for the day’s stream. It was hard to find good music these days, not with a DMCA lawsuit one flagged video away.

“You can find where I use the same ingredients for the pre-made mint filling layer in my 20th video, when I made my homemade No-reos.”

Underneath the kitchen island countertop was a small red button that Killer pushed. That was the alarm indicator Kid had installed to notify the redhead that it was time for him stop what he was doing, get dressed, and join the video for the taste test.

Hoping beyond hope that Kid would be wearing the clothes Killer laid out for him, the masked man entertained the audience. Acknowledging the redeemed gifts, answering comments and questions and taking a much needed bathroom break. Letting the ads run a bit longer to milk the revenue, Killer stood at the doorway waiting for Kid to make an appearance. Asshole was running late, unbelievable. HE WANTED to be in the live streams, Killer didn’t ask him to be a part of it.

Shaking his head, he sat down in front of the camera, preparing to be KillerCook once more. The oven had three minutes left on the timer and the smell of chocolate wafted. The stream continuing, he began whisking the ganache to pour over the brownies.

Killer heard Kid walking through the hallway as he whisked. Bursting through the door, shirtless, his golden piercings that littered his nipples, nose bridge and ears shined from the open kitchen windows that showed a beautiful sunny day outside.

Timer going off, Killer fumbled to the back while hissing out, “Put a fucking shirt on! Why do you do this every time?!”

“C’mon Kill, they’re not gonna ban you for male nipples, be real.”

“Not risking it, we’re already on thin ice for using copyright music after 2 warnings. Remember? That’s how you lost Your Job as the video editor. Put on a shirt or I pull the plug.”

Angrily swearing, Kid walked back through the door to find a shirt.

“The last step is pouring the ganache over the mint layer and spreading it evenly for a smooth coating. Then you’ll want to store it in the fridge to let the top layer set. This will take up to an hour or you can keep it in longer until you’re ready to eat.”

Cutting into the pan to prepare a square for Kid, the masked baker placed both the pan and the taste test piece in the fridge. Killer once again entertained the audience for the 5 minutes it took for Kid to come back, in a ruffled black vest that was unbuttoned. Killer pulled out a chair for him and went to retrieve the taste test square, placing it on the table in front of Kid.

Coming into view of the camera with an annoyed pout on his face, Kid shot a sneer at Killer before tightening his jaw and looking directly into the lens.

“Alright, now the reason you’re all really here. To watch me eat shit you can’t have and look hot doing it.”

Standing straight, he stuck out his right arm and flexed, slowly moving it down with deliberate motions that further focused on his bulging muscles instead of the baked good. Bringing it to his face, Kid licked his maroon painted lips before taking a bite with a grin. Letting out an approving grunt.

“How’s it taste?”

“Tastes damn good, brother,” Kid responded, biting into the brownie again.

“Can you uh elaborate some more for the audience?”

“It’s chocolate, tastes like chocolate,” he grunted out in between bites.

Sighing deeply, “Does the texture feel balanced? Is it too dry? Can you even taste the mint I added with the chocolate chips?”

Licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth with the back of hand, Kid shrugged. “Tastes perfect. Like any good brownie should be, it’s moist,” devilish smirk on his face and he faced the camera.

Feeling Killer’s serious as fuck glare through the mask, “Yeah yeah you can taste the mint. It doesn’t overwhelm the chocolate but it wasn’t overstated either. Like a little nudge wanting acknowledgment.”

“And there you have it, moist and acknowledged. Tune in next time when I make one of my favorite dishes, Spaghetti aglio e olio. It’s simple to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End Livestream.

Killer lifted his baker’s hat, helmet and took his hairnet off, pulling his hair from the tight wound rubber elastic he’d put it in.

“One of these days you’re going to get me banned, dickwad. Think about that the next time you want to fuck around. All those comments of praise and validation gone just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “Because you can’t stop being a dumb whore for 5 minutes.”

“I’m a whore?! Oh stuff a brownie in yer mouth and calm down. You’re not you when you’re hangry,” Kid snickered, ducking out of the kitchen to avoid the stainless-steel bowls flung at him.

Bonus: The comment section

ICantEven101: Killer-san, why won’t my sauce stick to my noodles? KillerCook: You may be using too much oil or butter. A good trick is to add in pasta water to thicken the sauce. Corn starch is a good binder as well.

VanillyExtract: PunkNeverDied69 can I take you on a date? 🥺 PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes.

GimmeDa’Za: Day 15 of asking for a Heat cameo and dutch oven pizzas. FlamingHot420: Why are you people obsessed with me? I walked into the kitchen ONE TIME.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

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jetts-witchy-library · 2 years

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Artemis information masterpost

Goddess of: hunting, wild animals, childbirth, chastity, archery

Animals: stags, Deer, dogs, bears, boars, wild animals

Colors: white, silver, yellow, gold, green, blue

Signs: Pulling The High Priestess, Temperance or The Moon in Tarot, Interest or talent in Archery or Hunting, You see Lunar Symbols a lot in your life, You are often visited by wild animals

Offerings for Artemis:

- crystals: amethyst, emerald, moonstone, pearl, quartz, crystal, silver, turquoise, iron, aluminium, moss agate and diamond

- plants: jasmine, mugwort, lavender, walnuts, willow, Oak, aloe, cedar, tarragon, wormwood, lemon, anemones, flowering almond, Hazel, ranunculus, honeysuckle, passionflower, thistle, laurel, fir tree, amaranth, nuts, wildflowers

- scents for candles and incense: jasmine, frankincense, lemon, aloe, ginseng, verbena, camphor

- Dog fur (ethically sourced)

- Honey

- Olive oil

- Keeping your word

- Moon imagery

- colours: silver, white, red, green, blue

- Study her mythology

- Moss

- Rocks found on walks

- Almonds, walnuts, and acorns

- Ritual baths

- Moon rituals

- Divination

- Moon water

- Get in touch with nature

#deity #deity work #paganism #greek paganism #goddess devotion #goddess worship #hellenistic polytheism #hellenism #artemis devotion #artemis #artemis devotee #trans pagan #eclectic witch

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arthistoryanimalia · 1 year

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For #Feathersday: Some selections from the Kingfisher Headdresses from China exhibition at Art Institute of Chicago showcasing tian-tsui, the traditional Chinese fine art of using the highly prized iridescent blue feathers of regional Kingfisher species (Alcedinidae).

Lots more pieces (including smaller hairpins & earrings) on display at the exhibition, open through May 2023.

It is also important to note that the demand for feathers for tian-tsui nearly drove kingfishers to extinction in China in the early 20th centry, with the last feather factory closing in 1933. But there are now some contemporary artists reviving the craft who make a point of using ethically sourced feathers (collected from molt etc).

1 Cap (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 18th-19th century Gold wire, kingfisher feathers, amber, coral, jadeite, ivory, glass, silk Exceptional workmanship and the brilliant color of the kingfisher feathers make this an outstanding example of a woman's headdress. At the center, a phoenix with a peacock-like tail is flanked by a pair of dragons. Stacked above the phoenix are a large bat studded with a jadeite gem and another executed in fine filigree. Gourds, symbolizing the wish for multiple offspring, appear on the sides and suggest that this cap may have been worn by a young woman.

2 Headdress (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Silk-covered lattice, kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, jadeite, coral, amethyst, rose quartz, and carnelian The central roundel on this headdress features a butterfly with jadeite wings and a coral body while those on either side contain rose-quartz flowers and narrow-waisted bottle gourds, symbols of fertility. Below the butterfly, two bat-like creatures with long antennae and quartz bodies are flanked by gourds. Jade-petal flowers and other plant motifs fill the top register.

3 Headdress (清朝点翠头饰） China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, pearls, garnets. rose quartz, jadeite, and glass, applied to a silk-wrapped wickerwork trellis The numerous stylized creatures that adorn this headdress are bats. They represent a motif favored in Chinese art because the Chinese word for "bat" (fu) sounds similar to that for good fortune. The wings of the large bats are fashioned with seed pearls, and red agate cameos indicate the eyes and bodies of the smaller ones. Their long antennae end in pearls, which would quiver with the slightest movement when the headdress was worn. The strings of pearls hanging from the lower rim form a veil.

4 Tiara (清朝点翠头饰) China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers on silver gilt, jadeite, carnelian, coral, and ivory In Chinese culture dragons are powerful but benevolent creatures, and the ones that decorate the top of this tiara chase a central flaming pearl- a combination that probably expresses the hopes for a happy marriage. Around the perimeter, stylized characters for longevity (show) and small figures of immortals symbolize a further wish for long life. On the inner rim, the eight phoenixes facing downward are also talismans for good fortune.

5 Tiara (清朝点翠头饰) China, Qing dynasty (1644-1912), 19th century Kingfisher feathers on gold and gilt bronze, agate, and lapis lazuli At the top of this tiara, a pair of dragons chase a flaming pearl, a motif expressing hopes for a happy marriage. Below them a pavilion probably represents a paradise of immortals, and still farther down are two goldfish, symbolizing offspring and good fortune. The bottom is composed of a row of birds facing downwards, each holding in its beak a string of pearls suspending L-shaped musical chimes. The Chinese word for chime, qing, is similar to that for celebration.

6 Opera Costume Headdress (民国点翠头饰） China, first half of 20th century Kingfisher feathers, gilt bronze, faux pearls, and glass This headdress teems with symbols of good fortune. The design centers on a large tree peony and below it, a pair of guardian lions flank a flaming pearl. The next row down features red-headed phoenixes and a dragon. A pair of leaping fish--symbolizing a successful career and abundant offspring- appear above the peony. At the top is a pavilion, perhaps representing a paradise of immortals. More details appear amidst the primary designs: bats and butterflies fluttering their wings and Chinese characters with meanings such as "wealth," "longevity," "nobility," and "glory," collectively imbuing the headdress with an air of celebration.

7 Opera Costume Headdress (民国点翠头饰) China, Possibly Guangxi province, early 20th century Gilt bronze, kingfisher feathers, pearls, coral, silk thread, and glass Together with phoenixes, mandarin ducks, and bats, four large clamshells decorate this headdress. Each clamshell contains a pearl that is visible only from the side or the top. Contemporary audiences would likely have noticed many pearls dotting the headdress, though, and associated them with the clamshells' contents. In addition to wealth, the pearls probably symbolize a wish for a happy marriage and many offspring.

[all descriptions above from the gallery labels]

***

The only book I know about (in English) about tian-tsui feather art is this one:

Kingfisher Blue: Treasures of an Ancient Chinese Art by Beverley Jackson (2001)

PS - kingfisher feathers aren't really blue - and in fact no bird feathers are known to have "true blue" pigmentation! It's all structural color, just a trick of the light fooling our eyes. :) (Try taking a single "blue" feather and backlighting it sometime to see for yourself!)

Learn more here:

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pearluminousuk · 2 years

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#Ethically Sourced Pearls

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hmshermitcraft · 1 year

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For the weekly theme!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Etho was one of the dragons of the Hermitcraft server who have decided to live in houses made of blocks, spending more time in their human forms rather than as dragons, and learning from those who were born fully human

It wasn't a matter of belief or anything, really! One day Etho was flying by, and his eyes were drawn to shiny red items scattered all over the ground, near a human building. Ohhhhh, those would look FABULOUS in his horde, he just HAD TO sweep in and take a few!!!

However, before he managed to figure out how to fish those blocks out from the contraption that held them, a shout was heard from the house. A very tall and lanky human, with a fluffy moustache, almost tripped over his elegant shoes as he rushed outside. He wasn't about to let someone take apart his redstone machine, even if that someone was a dragon 10 times his size

Thankfully, Etho was a very calm dragon, so it was easy for Mumbo to explain why taking the redstone was a bad idea. Etho flew away, holding a few ethically sourced blocks from Mumbo's storage in his paws, but the thought of the shiny red dust that made machines work would not leave his mind, no matter what he did

This is how Etho found himself living amongst humans. He slowly but surely made friends with people other than Mumbo, untill he was well known and liked by everyone, and "he could call himself one of the Hermits" (the last part was Xisuma's words). It didn't take long at all for him to master redstone, he had a real knack for it and very shortly he was considered one of the best redstoners around

There were a couple other dragons living as part of the Hermitcraft too, so Etho was very content with his life. Talking and working alongside Tango, Impulse, Ren, Mumbo, and other people, sometimes going on flights with the mischevious feather dragon siblings Pearl and Grian, or just hanging around with his new friends, listening to Scar trying to swindle another item for his horde from someone, and being swatted upside down the head by Cleo, a stunning copper dragon

One day, when he was pouring over another solo project of his, a shadow covered his working area. Before he even managed to look up, a huge weight slammed into him, and had him pinned to the ground. It's good that dragons were particularly resilient, even in their human form, or else he'd be an Etho pancake

Once he managed to scramble from underneath the thing that fell on him, it turned out that it wasn't a thing at all, it was another dragon who crash-landed right outside Etho's base. No, crash-landed was not the right word, the dragon definitely just... fell out of the sky, passed out due to the many injuries he had all over his body

Etho panicked, quickly messaging other Hermits about the situation, asking them to come and help him. The dragon might be a stranger, but those injuries were so severe... he might just not make it...

Thankfully, because of the collaboration of Cub (who despite all his grumbling, did a stellar job with knitting torn flesh together), and the redstoners of the server (including a very worried Etho), the strange dragon was brought back to full health, and there was a custom made set of redstone-powered prosthetics (complete with a mechanism that allowed them to adapt to both a dragon and a human body) waiting for him, when he wakes up

It did take a while for the dragon to wake up. Etho... was very very worried about the stranger. It sure was weird for him, to be this invested in someone's fate, but he couldn't help but to feel drawn towards the other dragon. He spent a lot of time waiting by the den the other dragon occupied, hoping to catch the moment he woke up. And well, when the stranger's condition was stable, and there was no imminent threat hanging over everyone, Etho couldn't help but to notice just how deep the green of the other's scales was, how the magnificent goat horns curled on the sides of his head, how powerful were his wings... oh dear, did he just manage to develop a crush on the other dragon??? While that one was unconscious as well??? Oh no....

Eventually, the strange dragon woke up. Etho was not there to see it, but he rushed over as soon as he heard the news. The dragon, slightly disoriented still, introduced himself as Doc. He explained how he ended up right outside Etho's base (running away from dragon hunters, that one made everyone wince. It was rare for a place to be as accepting as Hermitcraft...) and in turn, he was filled in on where he is and what is happening around him

Doc took it all in stride. And he started recovering very quickly as well. Getting used to his prosthetics, and shifiting forms with them, was a bit of a challenge, but everything settled down soon enough

And just as it was with Etho, the Hermits welcomed Doc with open arms. He quickly proved to be wonderful person, and he made a home for himself on the server. Yet again, Xisuma extended an invitation to a dragon, and Doc accepted, becoming a Hermit. The server was a safe place for him, and now no dragon hunters could get him; his new friends would rip them to shreds in his defence. It was... a good feeling

All this time, Etho stared at Doc from the distance, trying to find a reason to go talk to Doc. Besides "oh hey, you kinda squashed me when you fainted mid air, wanna be friends?' he couldn't think of another reason, and that was incredibly weird, so he kept his distance

But!!! Soon enough it turned out that Doc also knew how redstone worked, and he was damn good at it. He was invited into the inner redstone circle of the server, and soon enough Etho was seeing him every day, even talking to him for hours on end!!! It... sure did nothing to stop his crush from developing... nuh-uh. He often found himself drowning in thoughts about how wonderful it would be to have a mate like Doc...

Meanwhile Doc himself was also enamoured with the other redstone dragon. He was trying to figure out how to maybe... change their solo redstone-meetings into dates... He was pretty positive that Etho might like him too, as whenever the conversation shifted from strictly work-realted into something more private, the other man's cheeks turned as red as the redstone he so often had sprinkled on his clothes

But Doc has spent so much time alone and on the run, he didn't know what to do! He was not used to interacting with others... How would he even ask Etho to be his mate... oh no...

Alas, they were pretty damn obvious with their feelings, despite thinking themselves very stealthy. At this point, their friends stopped being amused at the duo circling each other, and instead became annoyed. How long can they keep this up!? Ugh, this is too much. The Hermits hatched the "Get Two Idiotic Dragons Together" plan, and once Hermits have a plan, it just MUST succeed

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Ahh... it's not quite as good as I was hoping it'd be, but I dunno what to change here... sigh...

Anyways, I might submit more things, so can I please be the 🌠 anon?)

They don't want to push the two so much that it forces them apart, but it's getting a little silly. The pair are clearly close! They think they just need some encouragement to take that final step.

They go for the obvious first. Bdubs and Beef try to nudge both of them into at least admitting they're interested in each other! Which... Etho is a terrible liar and spends several minutes going "Doc? Nooo, absolutely not! Why would I- no!" And Doc waves it off but doesn't specifically say no. But neither of them say yes, either!

So, it seems like they're going to have to go to plan B.

Plan B involves a spontaneous 'redstone problem' that somehow both Doc and Etho got called on to fix! They joke about it at first, before getting into the work, trying to figure out what's gone wrong with the contraption. It takes longer than it probably should (Bdubs' redstone is perfect, okay), but then a piece of paper spits from a dispenser reading 'just go on a date already'.

Doc and Etho both try and brush past it, joking, until they realise... A date wouldn't be terrible, would it? If it goes wrong, they can just leave it there and go back to being friends (and pack, as well.)

Eventually they admit how long they've been crushing on each other. But that takes until at least the fourth date.

#hermitshipping #ask #docm77 tag #etho tag #ethoc #🌠 anon #mod 🎀#weekly theme: dragon riders

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