#june forest challenge

[suckaysuamigos200]

para el día 30 y último de Juneforest hoy le toca a noche

para este día decidí dibujar a el lider de los glowkies parecido a un murciélago llamado globert quién está volando en un enorme cielo de noche, gracias a todos por disfrutar de estos dibujos espero que les haya gustado 🦇🌌.

♥. * ･ ｡ﾟꈤ𝔦𝙜ℏϮ. * ･ ｡ﾟ♥♥. * ･ ｡ﾟꈤ𝔦𝙜ℏϮ. * ･ ｡ﾟ♥

For the 30th and last day of Juneforest, today is the night

For this day I decided to draw the bat-like leader of the glowkies called Globert who is flying in a huge night sky, thank you all for enjoying these drawings I hope you liked it 🦇🌌..

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

STUCK WITH ME- D. GRAYSON

day twenty two of the june bug masterlist

pairing: camp counsellor! dick grayson x camp counsellor! fem! reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: you're forced to spend your time (the whole summer) with dick grayson, someone you can't stand. why the two of you were paired up to be consellors, you'd never understand...

warnings: pure fluff and teasing, enemies to... lovers? heh

“you are stuck with me- so i guess i'll be sticking with you are stuck with me- so I guess i'll be sticking with you"- stuck with me, the neighbourhood

“Don't look at me like that.” you scoffed, staring straight ahead at the open lake in front of you.

Not meeting his obvious gaze, focused in a different direction then yours.

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about pumpkin.”

Your body whipped to him,finger already ready for the jab to Dick Graysons chest.

“And do not call me pumpkin.”

He chuckled, baby blues refusing to leave yours. There were two rules you had for yourself for your time at Nightwing Summer camp. The first was to not let a child die under your watch. The second being not to fall for your fellow camp counsellor, Dick Grayson.

The smug, charming little (tall) man who was so perfect it made you sick. The cocky bastard had everyone wrapped around his pretty little finger, and you weren't falling for it.

So it was your main mission to avoid him at all costs. However, that became quite difficult when you were assigned to the same group. It took everything in your body not to audibly groan when you saw the sheet of paper stuck up in the breakroom before the kids had all arrived.

Your name next to his.

A metaphorical binding of your two fates intertwining for the next three months.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, instantly calling your group to start getting out of the water and heading to their cabins to change for dinner. Distracting yourself from him at all costs. Him and that stupidly annoying grin, and that curl of inky hair that always falled into his face.

He got under your skin, and he knew it. He then, therefore made it his top priority to stay there.

“And do not call me sweetheart.” you grumbled as you turned, trailing after the kids and leaving him in the dust. He chuckled, that boyish grin plastered across his face that you could feel without physically looking at it. That grin haunted you like the plague.

Running a hand through his hair, he jogged to catch up with you, and you tried so hard to not turn your gaze slightly to stare at the massive biceps that were tanned and visible due to the muscle shirt he wore.

Boo. You whore.

“One day this summer, you're gonna like me.”

You snorted, focusing on the ground ahead of you. The rocks and twigs on the old dirt path through the forest, back to the main camp, were way more interesting anyways. “Keep telling yourself that Grayson.”

You refused to give him the satisfaction of calling him by his first name. It was too personal. Too intimate. “You’ll see.” he shrugged, starting to whistle a tune into the tree branches above. God help you.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

Dick Grayson did not stop staring at you, per your request.

But why would he? Why would this man listen to a word you said in any capacity?

His eyes remained on yours in the dining hall, even though his conversation was held with the kiddos around him. The dark orbs pierced you from across the bonfire, the flames licking up to illuminate his face in shadows. It was the one time you two could be separated, as the nightly bonfire was a time for everyone to mingle around freely. And yet, he couldn't seem to let go of you.

You couldn't shake him off. And every part of you told you to stare right back, to challenge him to some kind of mental fight. But if you looked too hard, you felt something churn in your stomach.

Something that wasn't nausea, as much as you told yourself that.

Butterflies. Those cursed, damned things.

So you focused your eyes elsewhere, anywhere you could. “I think Dick is staring at you.” one of your kids said as she sat down next to you, handing you a brush and elastic.

Aria, your little rockstar. She had some sass to her, but you saw yourself in her. She was your summer daughter, and you loved her as a sister. You began your routine of brushing her hair, parting it into sections before you began to braid it.

“What do ya think I should do Ari? Go over and gouge his eyes out?”

The eleven year old giggled. “Maybe. But I thought you liked him.”

Your eyes bulged. “You think I like him?”

She shrugged, and you tugged a little tighter on her locks, snugging the braid tightly before tying it off. “You look at him like you do sometimes. My mom always says the ones you think you hate, you secretly like. You look like you want to choke him sometimes.”

You couldn't help but laugh, covering your face with your hands.

Fuck she was kind of right. Why was an eleven year old girl more observant than you?

“Go get me a smore Ari, and no more mentioning Grayson if you know what's good for you.” you teased, wagging your finger at her with a smile plastered across your face as she scurried off to make you a treat over the campfire.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─── ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

It was just you and him under the moon and the stars. The fire had pretty much died down completely, nothing but small embers burning in the charred pit.

And yet, you couldn't find it in your body to get up and go to bed.

You were not tired yet. You didn't want to be tired yet. You stared off into the distance, to where the lights were out in the childrens cabins, nothing but little night lights for little light. You hadn't noticed Dick slip into the shadows of the night, suddenly sliding to sit beside you on your log.

“You have marshmallow on your face.” he murmured, making you jump.

“Jesus Grayson don't scare me like that.” you huffed crossing your arms over your chest protectively. He didn't respond, just licking his thumb before he was rubbing the corner of your lips, where you felt the sticky residue.

Somehow, it had landed on your cheek as well.

Embarrassing.

Your breath hitched in your throat, choking you of making some snarky comment as he intensely observed your face for any other trace of the marshmallow on your skin. You shouldn't like how close he was to you. You shouldn't like you could so clearly smell the campfire smoke mixed with his husky cologne, or the fact you could count each eyelash that fluttered against his cheek.

It was too much. Too soon.

You couldn't cave this easily yet, and yet- you couldn't find it in yourself to move away.

“There. Now you’re s’mores free.”

“Thank you.” you whispered, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. That damn smug smirk was plastered on his face at fact you had thanked him.

“Careful sweetheart, we wouldn't want it to sound like you like me, now would we?”

You rolled your eyes, darting them to stare at the ground beside him. His hand never left your face, cupping your jaw as he turned it, making you look at him.

And god you hated it. You hated how much of an effect he had over you. He was close enough to kiss.

Close enough you could just lean forward and press your lips to his… 

He turned his head slightly, eyebrow raised as if he was studying you. Observing you, trying to get a read. You didn't have enough time to put your hardened mask back into place.

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

You froze. Guilty.

“You don't know what youre talking about.”

“I’m sure I don't about many things.”

You did want to kiss him, just a little. His lips looked so soft and tempting. But you wouldn't give him that satisfaction. You didn't need to boost his ego anymore than it was already.

“Have a night Grayson.”

You turned,his hand slipping from your skin, already feeling cool to the touch. You needed to go to bed. You were suddenly exhausted. He made you exhausted. The facade you put up around him made you exhausted.

“You’re stuck with me, you know.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you asked.

“Whatever you want it to be. But just know, we have three months together. You’ll have to cave at some point.”

You just shrugged. “Maybe you’ll cave first.”

You turned, the moonlight illuminating your path as you started to turn to make your way back to your quarters. His words followed you all the way back, loud even over the chirping cicadas and cooing owls in the branches.

“Oh darling I already have.”

This was going to be a long summer indeed.

[fourormore]

[Image description: A polyam flag with the words “four or more bingo” on it. End description.]

AO3 COLLECTION | SQUIDGEWORLD COLLECTION

AND WE'RE BACK!

I have a vision: a world where we can read about polycules and complicated relationships with four or more people until our eyes hurt and our hearts can't take it anymore.

Let me introduce to you: the 2025 Four or More Bingo! Thanks to a couple of suggestions I received last year, I decided to launch this event earlier in the year for more opportunities to write about those messy polycules.

This is a low-stakes, personal challenge. There's no penalty for not finishing or running late.

Cards will be given from now to December 31st. Fills can be posted starting June 1st to AO3, SQWA or tumblr forever.

GUIDELINES

Any medium! Any rating! As long as your work focuses on a relationship with 4 or more people, it's allowed!

All works must be your own and not previously posted. AI generated works will be deleted from the collections.

You may combine these with other events, as long as the other event allows it (examples are @polyamships' polyartober, lyricaltitles challenges, etc)

Small fandoms welcome!

Don't forget to comply with the community guidelines.

MEDIUM SPECIFIC GUIDELINES

Minimum wordcount for fics is 100 words. There is no maximum

Minimum for art is a sketch on unlined paper (figure sticks allowed!). There is no limit to the quality or effort you want to put in your fills.

Minimum for moodboards is a 3x3 grid (9 images individually or edited in one image). Maximum is given by the place where you decide to post. On tumblr, the maximum is 20 images, but on AO3, you're free!

Minimum for podfic is a 100-word fic. There is no restriction on maximum length or sound effects.

Minimum for fanvids is 30 seconds. There is no maximum.

Other mediums don't have a minimum. Do you want to make an in-universe magazine for your ship? A cross stich pattern? A sculpture? Go ahead and do it! I look forward to all the things you can create.

Prompts, FAQ and more below the cut

PROMPTS

The following are the prompts that the bingo card will be generated from. Send us an ask if you want a card, and if you want any prompts specifically excluded from it (you can exclude up to 5 prompts). Feel free to request a new card at any time through December 2025, even if you've already received one.

This year you can ask for a completely SFW card or a mix of SFW and NSFW prompts (this was a popular suggestion last year). Whatever card you choose, you will be allowed to blacklist 5 prompts from the list if you so desire.

Prompts are to be interpreted as freely as you want.

SFW prompts are not limited to SFW fills. If your story gets spicy along the way, there's nothing wrong with it.

Some of these prompts might seem familiar. That's intentional. We love big and complicated polycules at fourormore.

SFW PROMPTS

Home

Food

Kisses

Money

Competition

Jealousy

Limits

Complicated relationships

Labels

Awkward conversations

1930s AU

1960s AU

1990s AU

"That's not going to fit"

"You must think I'm stupid"

"I swear it was like this when I got here"

"We leave you alone one day and this happens"

Holy

Devilish

Loyal

Feral

Cozy

Old-fashioned

Dancing

Singing

Running

Grief

Joy

Space

Forest

Lies

Drama

Film

Memories

Late nights

Holidays

Fear

Pain

Cold

Flowers

A fandom you've never written before

A fandom that's 10+ years old

A polycule with 5+ people

A polycule with 10+ people

A polycule spread around the world

--

Opt-in NSFW prompts

Recreational substance use

Free use

Tied up

Delayed orgasm

Awkward positions

Just hands

No hands

Casual sex

Something made them do it (sex pollen, fuck water, in heat, etc)

Blood kink

Knife play

Undernegotiated kink

Teaming up

Public place

Monsterfucking

FAQ

Q: So how do I get a card?

A: Send us an ask, preferrably off anon, but if you prefer to remain anon, leave an emoji to identify you by.

Q: How many fics do I need to write?

A: For a bingo, 5 prompts in a line (horizontal, vertical, or diagonal). You can even go for a blackout (all 25 prompts).

Q: Why isn’t X allowed?

A: Just because.

Q: I don’t have a Dreamwidth account. Can I join?

A: Of course! You don’t even need an AO3 account if you wish to post only on tumblr.

Q: My work contains [INSERT WARNING HERE]. Can I still participate?

A: Yes. This is a CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) space.

Q: I don’t want to see [X] content, can you please remove it?

A: No. The only content that will be removed will be that that does not comply with the rules.

UPDATE: We now have a General FAQ that applies to all events.

COMPLETION POSTS

So, you have a bingo (or a blackout!), what now?

Well, to acknowledge the fact that you spent time and effort on at least 5 fics, we’ll be receiving bragging posts (also known as completion posts) where you can link all of your fills at once. Please follow this format. You may post on your own blog and @ us, tag #fourormore or submit it to the blog.

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to send a message.

Have fun and bon appetit!

[reasonsforhope]

"In response to last year’s record-breaking heat due to El Niño and impacts from climate change, Indigenous Zenù farmers in Colombia are trying to revive the cultivation of traditional climate-resilient seeds and agroecology systems.

One traditional farming system combines farming with fishing: locals fish during the rainy season when water levels are high, and farm during the dry season on the fertile soils left by the receding water.

Locals and ecologists say conflicts over land with surrounding plantation owners, cattle ranchers and mines are also worsening the impacts of the climate crisis.

To protect their land, the Zenù reserve, which is today surrounded by monoculture plantations, was in 2005 declared the first Colombian territory free from GMOs.

...

In the Zenù reserve, issues with the weather, climate or soil are spread by word of mouth between farmers, or on La Positiva 103.0, a community agroecology radio station. And what’s been on every farmer’s mind is last year’s record-breaking heat and droughts. Both of these were charged by the twin impacts of climate change and a newly developing El Niño, a naturally occurring warmer period that last occurred here in 2016, say climate scientists.

Experts from Colombia’s Institute of Hydrology, Meteorology and Environmental Studies say the impacts of El Niño will be felt in Colombia until April 2024, adding to farmers’ concerns. Other scientists forecast June to August may be even hotter than 2023, and the next five years could be the hottest on record. On Jan. 24, President Gustavo Petro said he will declare wildfires a natural disaster, following an increase in forest fires that scientists attribute to the effects of El Niño.

In the face of these changes, Zenù farmers are trying to revive traditional agricultural practices like ancestral seed conservation and a unique agroecology system.

Pictured: Remberto Gil’s house is surrounded by an agroforestry system where turkeys and other animals graze under fruit trees such as maracuyá (Passiflora edulis), papaya (Carica papaya) and banana (Musa acuminata colla). Medicinal herbs like toronjil (Melissa officinalis) and tres bolas (Leonotis nepetifolia), and bushes like ají (Capsicum baccatum), yam and frijol diablito (beans) are part of the undergrowth. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

“Climate change is scary due to the possibility of food scarcity,” says Rodrigo Hernandez, a local authority with the Santa Isabel community. “Our ancestral seeds offer a solution as more resistant to climate change.”

Based on their experience, farmers say their ancestral seed varieties are more resistant to high temperatures compared to the imported varieties and cultivars they currently use. These ancestral varieties have adapted to the region’s ecosystem and require less water, they tell Mongabay. According to a report by local organization Grupo Semillas and development foundation SWISSAID, indigenous corn varieties like blaquito are more resistant to the heat, cariaco tolerates drought easily, and negrito is very resistant to high temperatures.

The Zenù diet still incorporates the traditional diversity of seeds, plant varieties and animals they consume, though they too are threatened by climate change: from fish recipes made from bocachico (Prochilodus magdalenae), and reptiles like the babilla or spectacled caiman (Caiman crocodilus), to different corn varieties to prepare arepas (cornmeal cakes), liquor, cheeses and soups.

“The most important challenge we have now is to save ancient species and involve new generations in ancestral practice,” says Sonia Rocha Marquez, a professor of social sciences at Sinù University in the city of Montería.

...[Despite] land scarcity, Negrete says communities are developing important projects to protect their traditional food systems. Farmers and seed custodians, like Gil, are working with the Association of Organic Agriculture and Livestock Producers (ASPROAL) and their Communitarian Seed House (Casa Comunitaria de Semillas Criollas y Nativas)...

Pictured: Remberto Gil is a seed guardian and farmer who works at the Communitarian Seed House, where the ASPROL association stores 32 seeds of rare or almost extinct species. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

Located near Gil’s house, the seed bank hosts a rainbow of 12 corn varieties, from glistening black to blue to light pink to purple and even white. There are also jars of seeds for local varieties of beans, eggplants, pumpkins and aromatic herbs, some stored in refrigerators. All are ancient varieties shared between local families.

Outside the seed bank is a terrace where chickens and turkeys graze under an agroforestry system for farmers to emulate: local varieties of passion fruit, papaya and banana trees grow above bushes of ají peppers and beans. Traditional medicinal herbs like toronjil or lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) form part of the undergrowth.

Today, 25 families are involved in sharing, storing and commercializing the seeds of 32 rare or almost-extinct varieties.

“When I was a kid, my father brought me to the farm to participate in recovering the land,” says Nilvadys Arrieta, 56, a farmer member of ASPROAL. “Now, I still act with the same collective thinking that moves what we are doing.”

“Working together helps us to save, share more seeds, and sell at fair price [while] avoiding intermediaries and increasing families’ incomes,” Gil says. “Last year, we sold 8 million seeds to organic restaurants in Bogotà and Medellín.”

So far, the 80% of the farmers families living in the Zenù reserve participate in both the agroecology and seed revival projects, he adds."

-via Mongabay, February 6, 2024

[dbdpromptober]

Dead Boy Detectives Promptober 2024

Catch-up Calendar

The participation this October has been beyond my wildest dreams, but if you didn't manage to keep up with the daily prompts, don't worry! I've set up this weekly calendar to catch-up with the ones you've missed, or to start the challenge from scratch at a more relaxed pace.

The prompts are the same, but this time you'll have a whole week to fulfill each of them.

The rules are also the same:

- creative works can be of any type (fanart, fic, poetry, cosplay, photography... Anything you can think of!);

- post them on the week of the prompt or afterwards on Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter and/or AO3 tagging this account and adding the hashtag #dbdpromptober2024;

- you don't have to do all the prompts, just have fun!

More info on the original post:

The prompts:

1. Mirrors (November 11 - 17)

2. Death (November 18 - 24)

3. Eternity (Nov. 25 - Dec. 1)

4. Light (December 2 - 8)

5. Magic (December 9 - 15)

6. Books (December 16 - 22)

7. Blood (December 23 - 29)

8. Hell (Dec. 30 - Jan. 5)

9. Past (January 6 - 12)

10. Lantern (January 13 - 19)

11. Dream (January 20 - 26)

12. Eight ball (Jan. 27 - Feb. 2)

13. Demons (February 3 - 9)

14. Sorrow (February 10 - 16)

15. Crow (February 17 - 23)

16. Knives (Feb. 24 - Mar. 2)

17. Mushroom (March 3 - 9)

18. Friendship (March 10 - 16)

19. Forest (March 17 - 23)

20. Investigate (March 24 - 30)

21. Lighthouse (Mar. 31 - Apr. 6)

22. Downtime (April 7 - 13)

23. Sight (April 14 - 20)

24. Cats (April 21 - 27)

25. Dandelions (Apr. 28 - May 4)

26. Bones (May 5 - 11)

27. Snow (May 12 - 18)

28. Tricksters (May 19 - 25)

29. Doll (May 26 - Jun. 1)

30. Love (June 2 - 8)

31. Spooky (June 9 - 15)

[agirlandherquill]

writecamp - day 5, june 5th

happy day 5 campers! this post's out slightly late and for that i do apologise, i forgot to save in queue instead of draft (you know what, considering this is my first blunder and we're 5 days in i'd say i'm doing all right)

the rules are as follows: choose a prompt (or as many of them as you like) from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

as usual, the prompt list will be under the cut!

The Prompt List

Dialogue Prompts:

"Your heart may be heavy, but what of your sword? You can raise that, can't you?"

"This was a mistake. I do not do well with mistakes."

"Trust. Trust is worth more than fear."

"You would do well not to let them speak to you like that. I would do worse, if you'd let me."

"I pity you. I do not fear you. I do not despise you. All I can do is pity the frightened wretch of a boy in front of me."

Setting Prompts:

A wretched forest

A rickety staircase

A heartless show

A trusted place

An ancient cellar

Narration Prompts:

She whispered to the dark, until it finally whispered back.

He had never felt such a fool, but he made the sacrifice willingly - his dignity for hers.

The horror of what they had done was nothing compared to the bitter, righteous stench of smoke rising from the wreckage, nothing compared to the song of shrieks and wails still being carried on the wind.

There was everything and there was nothing, for that night had no start and no end.

A heart was a heavy thing to hold, an impossible weight especially if it were your own.

Feeling Prompts:

The thrill of waiting

The weight of promise

The agony of loss

The barbs of humour

The ringing of change

all the best for day 5, you've all made such a brilliant start to the challenge, and i can't wait to see what you write!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

now for the tags! for writecamp, because i have a feeling there's going to be so many of you, i'm going to do tags a little bit differently and instead tag all you lovely campers in the comments! (to hopefully get around any tag limits/difficulties because we all know there's going to be problems, it's inevitable and i'm going to do my best to avoid any issues in that area) (the tag list will also be completed a short while after this post comes out seeing as i unfortunately cannot queue comments, but i'll get there in the end :) )

but of course, if you would like to be tagged in future daily challenges for writecamp, all you've got to do is interact with this post - it'll be monitored throughout the entirety of the challenge to ensure nobody who wants to be tagged misses out!

[sonyaheaneyauthor]

It's not my news source of choice, but it's well-known that Amnesty (national and international branches) has been taken over by tankies.

They openly back Moscow and blame Ukraine for Ukrainian civilians killed by the russians, and are expelling Ukrainian members for challenging them on that position.

This is nothing new. My Ukrainian mother was attacked by them twenty years ago. (For being too "white" to understand refugees—my mother herself was a refugee.)

Please look into the "humanitarian" organisations you donate to.

Ex NSW Labor MP Belinda Neal axed from Amnesty International board

“Amnesty has been captured by a far-Left, hard-Left tankie clique – far-Left people who basically sympathise automatically with anybody who is ostensibly anti-Western, no matter how brutal a regime is,” Mr Pavlou said.

“They’ll be sympathetic to the Russians, they’ll be sympathetic to the Chinese Communist Party, they’ll be sympathetic to a wide range of organisations that are massively, massively brutal when it comes to human rights atrocities.”

...

In June, Ukrainian community protest leader Anton Bodganovych was also expelled as a member of Amnesty for breaching its code of conduct.

He believes the official reasons for his removal – like Ms Neale’s and Mr Pavlou’s - were bogus, and his expulsion had more to do with him challenging Amnesty’s position on Russia and Ukraine.

His concerns about Amnesty’s Russian activism began in 2022, when the organisation’s UK branch released a report blaming Ukraine for its own civilian deaths.

“This is just absolutely crazy,” Mr Bogdanovych said. 

“They blamed (Ukrainian) soldiers, that instead of fighting in the nearby forest where they would all be slaughtered because there is no protection for them, they were fighting in a school, forgetting to mention the school was vacated many, many days before.

“It cost hundreds, if not thousands of lives... this report was quoted by Russia to justify the actions and it was widely used in their propaganda.”

On November 20, Amnesty International UK released a statement condemning news US President Joe Biden had authorised the provision of anti-personnel landmines to Ukraine as “reckless” and “deeply disappointing”.

“They are pushing on Ukraine not to use landmines supplied by the US and non-persistent (landmines) in this case means that they are far less harmful to civilians than any other mine that the Russian side would be using or the Ukrainian side would be using (otherwise),” Mr Bogdanovych said.

“I just want Australians to understand that many of these human rights organisations are no longer serving their purpose and Amnesty is a very bright example of that."

[siobhanhazel]

Drabble Dabble June: Ron, Hermione, Weasleys microfics

Let’s chill out and enjoy Drabble Dabble June! the challenge starts NOW, ends June 30th. Feel free to drop in or out whenever! See bottom of the post for text version of prompts. Hosted by siobhanhazel and noarc on the woolly bladders Discord server: join here (also if you just wanna participate on tumblr the tag is #drabble dabble june ) RULES:

Wordcount: hard max. of 100 words!

All drabbles should feature Ron and/or Hermione and/or one of the other Weasleys.

Use the prompt of the day or choose one of the Wildcard prompts.

The prompt word does NOT have to be in the fic; however it inspires you, just roll with it.

No need to join every day: write 1 or 30, or even multiple drabbles for each day.

Feel free to make a graphic for your drabble, however please also include the full text in your post for accessibility. Feel free to create a master post at the end of the month with your collection. Happy writing!

Prompts:

messy

spring 

crystal

round

situation

market

forest

bring

stupor 

furious

leaf

splash

wither

chest

truth

mouthful

moon

practical 

source

fest

first

pliant

harm

creep

relation

master

curious

shadow

time

piece

Wildcard prompts: medical, gnome, dragon, glue, sand, spice, brown, constellation

[suckaysuamigos200]

para el día 28 de Juneforest hoy le toca a cueva

para este día decidí dibujar a deby quién está explorando una misteriosa cueva en el bosque junto a su pequeño amigo glowkie con una linterna antigua en su boca 🦌🦇.

🦴⚫⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆🦴⚫⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆🦴⚫⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

for the 28th of Juneforest today it's Cave's turn

For this day I decided to draw Deby who is exploring a mysterious cave in the forest with his little glowkie friend with an old flashlight in his mouth 🦌🦇..

[princessbubblecup]

Our Not-So-Great Uncle, chapter 2

ao3 link, chapter 1

"Stanford Pines" was not a man at all.

He had cloaked himself in the visage of one for decades. He had in habit, body, and identity been reduced to one. It changed nothing. It changed everything.

For so very long, He had walked the town of Gravity Falls as just another taxpayer. He lived His life without any fuss to those around him, accepted His bills and paid them on time. His business was His own and that was that. A model citizen if you'd asked Him.

Prying eyes were not something He sought after, and yet. It had been a challenge to get His rage simmering deep beneath his own bowels, not invading the pumping arteries of red, human blood. He had a hatred within Him, so deep and abiding that there was one objective that allowed Him to keep peaceful enough to avoid attention.

Pure, exhilarating revenge.

Stanford Pines was born June 15, 1955 in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. He, "Stanford Pines," had come into the world September 28, 1980 in Gravity Falls, Oregan. Their paths had crossed immediately. Stanford Pines had seen Him, observed Him, and kept Him as a pet. He had christened Him after His own abilities, so carefully prodded and recorded by His... caregiver. His unrestricted forms, able to squeeze and stretch and compact into whatever He could take in. His "shapeshifting." It might've been an olive branch, this naming, but it so quickly turned whip. 

He would be loathe to abide by it. He could consider His own identity once Stanford Pines was removed from it. Permanently.

Stanford Pines had kept his own form from his ward. He had kept his own secrets, wanting Him to stay in the dark, deep in the earth, unknowing forever. He could not accept this. He had fought, writhed in his chains, pounded at his cage. He had been so close, utilizing the assistant. Wearing the face of the skittish creature had so nearly bought Him victory, until. Until, until that dreaded man had outmatched Him, tricked Him, imprisoned Him one last time. A cryogenic chamber, a tube of ice so cold it froze the true blood within Him, and He was stuck. 

He'd been comatose, last thoughts certain of the eternity that awaited Him. He had been so sure, so truly terrified, that it was the end.

And then.

He'd been freed! So soon after His imprisonment, really, He'd been given a second chance! Some idiot's blunder had Him released eternally early, and it had been desperation that had kept His freedom. And what had the fool had on his inferior body? It was the book. That... that journal that had led him to ice in the first place all those years ago. It was the work of Stanford Pines. 

Was this man...? No, no he couldn't have been. So foolhardy, so clumsy, so wrong. But, he had answers, and He had the forms to get them. He had spent hardly any time at all in the forest before He found a form with incredible scent-tracking abilities. He was able to trace the oils soaked into the book back to a cabin lying some ways north of the bunker. It wasn't difficult to get in and learn just who his rearer was.

It turned out the man in the bunker was not so removed from Stanford Pines after all. He had taken his journal and he shared his face. He had been attempting to share his name as well, and seemed to be getting away with it. What an idea. 

Now, if He were to partake in that idea, He could fulfill it much more seamlessly. He could smooth the rough edges, fill the gaps. He could perform with the full grace such a role required. He could have six fingers.

Presently, one would not look twice at "Stanford Pines." When He deemed to be observed over the many years, He prided Himself in His unremarkability. He had a face lined and folded, back stooped and gray hair thinned. His skin slipped off his figure, His joints swelled, and His fat ebbed around bone and ballooned around muscle. He was the picture of age, every bit what a sixty year old man should appear as. This was not so difficult, there were plenty of humans in Gravity Falls aging around Him to watch.

He also, to His own satisfaction, looked what anyone could assume Stanford Pines would look like as he reached sixty. This had been considerably less simple, as He had to create the image from His own imagination. It was one of many difficulties He'd had to overcome. Despite His success, He did not truly look as Stanford Pines did, as He had not truly seen Stanford Pines-- nor his likeness-- in some thirty years.

This was the problem at hand. A problem He was not alone in, it seemed. He had discovered some time after His entry into the home that there were rooms beneath the floors, much like his bunker. Large, cavernous rooms of concrete and metal, that held the story of a man swallowed by the endless void of space, and every variation thereof. A needle in a veritable sea of haystacks.

It would have been hopeless, to see a mound of twisted metal meant for usage beyond his comprehension, requiring education He could not hope to fathom in order to operate. It would have been, had He not held a third of the instructions in one copied hand. Had He not begun to plan.

It was not easily developed, this plan. He had to learn, scraping forward by His teeth, the very basics of human existence. He had to learn how to walk, how to speak, carry Himself, read, write, and dress all at once, and with only the shuttering memories of His childhood as a base. He had to learn how to learn, and then to study, and then to build. How to dismantle shoddy business practices and get people to stop showing up at the house. How to pay the mortgage.

Finding the other two journals was the first step. Stanford Pines did not want them found, and what Stanford Pines wanted he twisted the world around to get. It had taken years, many years, to detangle the earth in order to thwart his will. But not completely, not yet, as the step after was to decipher the instructions within, all the hidden messages and clues-- Stanford Pines was incredible in his difficulties. 

When He at last had the instructions legible and complete in front of Him, He began the arduous journey of learning enough advanced engineering, physics, and all the other little sciences required to put the heap of junk together and operate it. Decades of His life, despite His freedom, spent in the dark.

Living as a man, not to even brief the life He led behind closed doors, was fairly expensive. It seemed that merely owning a residence was an absolute drain of resources, as well as actually residing in it. Electricity, water, upkeep, and renovations took a fair amount of money monthly, even considering the fact that He had no need for clothing or grocery bills. Had He attempted to fund His "project" legally it surely would have added many years and millions of dollars to his expenses. Luckily, His unique abilities provided fairly straightforward solutions to both issues.

It was not difficult for a "man" who could be anyone to get what He wanted.

The children had been... a complication. He had thought He might hate them.

Children in general were fairly loathsome, as a concept. Underfoot as a rule, with their sticky fingers in his work and their snotty noses in his affairs. Undoubtedly they would cause noise, provide distractions, and bring attention. There wasn't a single reason He would have put up with it, except for the one He had found.

The portal required a certain amount of DNA to track a specific target in the multiverse, which needed to be replenished somewhat frequently. This was a complicated notion, and one that had taken a fair chunk of time to work with, seeing as the original blueprints had no real directive for dimensional tracking, with only a few footnotes and an idea off the original locking system for Him to work with. There had been a point, not all that long ago, He had felt He was mere moments from His goal, until He had encountered a major issue.

His DNA was not enough. He had used the blood copied off the Other One, at the beginning, to provide a match of Stanford Pines’, and it did provide a good basis. However, HIS genetic material seeped through, no matter how He rearranged Himself to make up for it. Apparently, well-copied blood was useless without genuine DNA of the same species and general make-up to supplement it! The advanced scanner required to operate the tracker was too complex to be fooled completely, it seemed. 

This was a large drawback, and He  had begun to wonder what He could do to remedy it. It had seemed He would need to either try to reprogram the scanner, or else go back to the bunker, when the prospect of housing the children came up.

They would provide the physical material needed for months, and if it succeeded it would require no additional effort on his part. They were direct family. They were human. They were the blood of Stanford Pines.

He had wondered if He would hate them.

He had gotten the phone call in April. Stanford Pines had been a fairly distant man when he was himself, and so-- besides dispelling the short-lived reputation thrust upon Him in the early 1980's-- He did not have to develop any particularly strenuous communication habits in order to stave off concern or suspicion. Merely picking up the phone whenever it (ever so sparingly) rang, and neglecting to cut the call off immediately perhaps three times annually when it came to "close" family members. He would spare less than ten minutes a year for conversation this way, and then less than three once the mother had died. April’s phone call had been unexpected.

He had been unprepared to answer the phone one spring morning and hear the brother ask Him for a favor. Sherman Pines had a son who was beginning the process of divorce with his wife. This did not concern Him. They were looking for a relative to put up their twin children for the summer so they wouldn't be too confronted by this process. Apparently, this did concern Him.

Sherman Pines could not manage to watch the children, his wife was recovering from a stroke and he had to give her his full attention. There were no relatives short of West Virginia who had the space and time to watch two children, and the parents weren't comfortable sending them that far. "Stanford" had space, plenty of fresh air around him, and the opportunity to give the children a chance at handling a new environment. He was asking a favor.

It took three more phone calls and several nights staring at schematics to make arrangements.

He was sure He would hate them.

Mabel Pines was boisterous. She was as loud as He had expected children to be, and then some. She left a perpetual trail of glitter and pipe cleaners, and gave every room she stood in the distinct smell of chemicals and strawberries. It had taken an entire week for her to stop trying to make conversation with Him. She was strange.

Dipper Pines was intrusive. He was always twitching, always looking around. He would stick his fingers under things to try and observe what lay beneath. He had a general air of suspicion leaking off him, as well the smell of sweat. He had tried asking questions at first, but it had only taken three days for him to stop. He would not stop looking, though, as if he could see beneath the layer of human skin his “Uncle” wore. He was strange.

They wanted something from Him. He had given them beds and a sleeping chamber, He visited the stores regularly enough to keep their food supplies stocked (wearing a face that would not be questioned by the clerks), He allowed them range of nearly a third of the house. He kept an eye on them, whether it be human or creature, and gave them clear instructions with comprehensible reasoning. They still wanted something from Him.

Whenever He faced them, their expressions would be upset. Their disposition would sometimes aggravate Him; they were causing Him trouble and they were aiming for more of it, and yet they looked to Him as though He was the one required of something. He didn't know what they wanted Him to say. He didn't want to say anything.

He got what He needed from them, and they had generally been obedient. He had caught them sniffing around from the get-go, but they hadn't a chance in Hell of opening any door He wanted to stay shut. As soon as He became agreeable to the idea of them coming around, He made sure His defenses and locks were secure enough to deter government agents, let alone little children. He'd almost found their attempts entertaining. They were fairly helpless.

He was not used to them, and He did not enjoy their invasion of his life, but they were curious things. As He watched, whether it be from the eye of a camera or insect, He could not quite deny that-- despite having dedicated His life to one in two ways-- He did not understand the human creature. They were stuck in one form, and yet eternally changing. Their growth was so slow compared to His kind, and yet their lifespan so fast. These two were more than half a decade away from full physical maturity, and yet once they reached it they would be a fourth of the way done with their lives. It was such an inconvenient timeline. How could humans consider themselves the most advanced species?

How could Stanford Pines?

The children were not, as He had feared, Stanford Pines in miniature. They shared his curiosity, his brashness, his entitlement, yes, but it was in different dosages. They were their own strange, expectant, small little humans.

He did not hate them.

He also did not know what He felt about them. He did not prioritize them, He would NOT prioritize them. He did allow Himself to consider their safety, at least. He scoured the parts of the house several times over to remove any items that could in any way be used for injury, or that were related to His Project. He kept any food contaminants out of the kitchen they would be using, regardless of incrimination prospects. He forbade their entry to the woods (which provided an excellent cover for gathering DNA) mostly to prevent any commotion they might cause upon discovery of the supernatural, but partially because it did hold genuine danger.

He supposed this would be enough.

And then, and then, and then one day in late July.

It was ready. Year after year, day after day, night after night, and He was a day out from finally, FINALLY, being done with it. The portal was activated.

He considered waiting, letting the children take their bus back to California before letting the portal run. He considered, and decided no, He'd waited far long enough. The children could be kept upstairs, locked away to ensure their lack of interference. They could not even get to the study, they wouldn't be able to get to Him. They would be safer indoors aways, once the gravitational pulses started. He would put them away, He would let the portal finish its powering, He would get his revenge, and then He would go upstairs.

He would tell the children He had been knocked out, He would say He hadn't an idea what had happened besides that it had been dangerous. He would clean them up and send them home early. He wouldn't let them learn about the body. Then, finally, He would...

...He would....

He would figure it out. There wouldn't be anything for Him to be held back by, no wounds He would need to seek healing for. He would be freer than ever.

That would not be until tomorrow, anyways. All was falling into place.

"You can't do this!" Dipper Pines' voice yelled shrilly through the attic door. "This is child neglect!"

He huffed quietly, twisting His appendage in the lock as a key. He turned and began to descend to ground level, ignoring the pounding on the door behind him. Children were nuisances, decidedly. He had hoped they would continue their general habit of obedience for this. The one time He directly asked for compliance and they questioned Him. Dramatics! He couldn't understand it. They had spent so long fighting going to their room, He had noticed they forgot to bring drinks, which He was to understand would make them slightly uncomfortable for the day. Dipper Pines had forgotten to bring anything.

No matter! This short discomfort would teach them a valuable lesson in obedience and thoughtlessness. Regardless, come the next day or so they would be back at their own home, and able to do whatever they wished. It was fine.

He reached the end of the stairs and walked forwards towards the back room. Turning, He shifted His eyes into the correct two for the retinal scanner, and in put the series of numerical codes to unlock the door. It swung open with a slight hiss, and He began to descend to the elevator.

He found, as He watched the floor indicator count down, that He was nervous. What if it went wrong? He had spent so long on this Project, on this Objective, He didn't know how well He could handle another failure, especially this close in completion. How much longer would He stand in the dark if it did not work this time?

No matter. He would greet that possibility in the morning. Tonight, He was going to try.

It was no time at all compared to the past three decades, but on a daily level the portal powering up was slow-going. He spent the next three-and-a-half hours puttering about the portal room as He had most His entire life. It felt familiar, almost menial, and yet exhilaratingly new. Nearly there.

When the first gravitational anomaly happened, He braced against a support beam. He looked up at the countdown blinking up on the wall, and felt a grin pull at His face. Strange. He'd not usually felt the urge to express Himself on a human level. Sign of the times, maybe.

The passing of time went from a trickle to a heavy flow as He watched His recreation truly come to life.

The portal whirred with color, spinning light around the vortex as it roared in front of Him. He felt so alive, as though the electricity was jump-starting His hearts as it cracked whip-like from the frame. The anomalies would get more and more frequent and long-lasting as the portal finished its sequence.  The room around Him had already suffered, wood and concrete splintered around Him. The last one, right as it pulled Stanford Pines through, would be the strongest. He hoped, in a very small way, as the clock ticked to the last ten seconds, that the children would not be damaged in it. In a very large way, He hoped this was it.

6

This was it.

5

This was it.

4

This was it.

3

This was it.

2

This was--

1

The portal exploded with light, the vortex opened like a gaping maw with pure energy spilling forth and filling the weightless room around Him. He was blinded, as all sound and form was consumed by the brilliance. He was stung by it, body vibrating with a pitch beyond reason. A void and an endless expanse. For a moment, He forgot.

Then, it was over. 

He came crashing to the floor, body still ringing and filled with ache. The portal came crashing down around Him, tons of metal hitting the ground with finality. This was it.

He looked up, and saw the portal's entrance. The light, so all-encompassing moments before, was fizzling with its last breath. Before it gave out completely, someone stepped through. He caught His breath.

The man stepped off the edge, thick boots hitting the floor with a thud. He slowly pulled off his hood and goggles to reveal his face. Staring Him straight in the eyes was Stanford Pines.

Stanford Pines stalked forward, seeming purpose in his step as he came near. He couldn't believe it. Stanford Pines quickened his pace. He couldn't believe it. Stanford Pines raised an arm. He Couldn't Believe It. Stanford Pines socked Him across His human jaw.

He went sprawling to the floor once more.

"God damn it, Stan, what the hell about, "could lead to the end of the world," don't you understand?!"

Stanford Pines was here, and yelling at Him, and here. He began to laugh, then harder, until He was downright cackling. He rolled over before getting up by His hands and knees. He, still screaming with laughter, looked up at Stanford Pines' stormy expression.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Stanley!" Stanford Pines shouted at Him.

He disagreed. This was a matter that could only be met with the utmost ecstacy. Stanford Pines was in front of Him, and he seemed to be under a very strange impression. Stanford Pines was about to die.

He didn't want to waste this, didn't want to chance that this opportunity would slip from His fingers again, so He struck. He shifted His arm into a lance, and lunged forward mid-laugh. Stanford Pines yelled in surprise, evading with merely a tear to his coat. He barrel rolled, coming up to the side in a defensive position as He spun with a growl.

"You!" Stanford Pines cried out, hand going to his hip.

He didn't allow for a response, contorting His top half into a mess of teeth and sling-shotted back at the man, who sprung away again. He stretched a limb as He passed, though, spearing through the air towards Stanford Pines' heart. It was met with a slicing pain, and He screamed from it as He withdrew quickly. 

Stanford Pines stood, strange knife in hand, in front of the part of His limb he had cut off. His face concentrated, Stanford Pines watched Him as He reshuffled his body to center the wound and rushed again with a body hard enough to crack his skull. Stanford Pines stood in wait as He spun forwards, basement a blur with the speed as He bounded towards the target of a very breakable HEAD--

Stanford Pines dropped, rolling under the crest of His movement as He bounced upwards to strike. He felt that knife rake His underside as he went, splitting a form that should not be possible to split. His blood splattered, and He shrieked from the indignity. 

In a great rush, He fled to the shadows for cover. He crept about quickly, circling the great perimeter of the room, watching as Stanford Pines slowly turned about to try and track Him.

After a moment, when Stanford Pines seemed to lock onto a spot a few meters from His left, He burst forward, lunging with more spines and talons and teeth He had ever shoved into a form before. This distance closed in a heartbeat, He sped the last inches with His appendages spread out to prevent escape. He filled the air, flattened out to cover ten feet across Stanford Pine's back and curved over slightly so he would not be able to spring forward, sharp spines reaching towards soft flesh. There there theretherethere gOT YOU--

Within half a blink Stanford Pines was facing Him, gun poised and powered up and going off. Whatever came from it shot out and hit Him squarely in the middle. The force of the thing threw Him backwards, centimeters from His target turned feet. His outer skin shuddered, and He was forced back into his true form. He was ripped open, His internal center mass spilling out from a gaping wound. Green blood and organs covered Him. Before He could register, attempt to get up, think about attacking again, three more shots landed.

He gave a garbled cry, choking on His own fluids, as Stanford Pines said something. He could not hear it over the gushing of His blood circling through his system to try and mitigate the damage. One shot had blown through His neck. The vibration of footsteps echoed through His back skin. The blurry form of the first person He had ever known settled above Him. He had wanted him dead so badly.

The gun came back into view. He never heard the last shot as it came, and He did not feel it.

He did not know anything at all.

[alyssa-ai]

Start of AI Challenge #6

After an open vote and 35 votes, the chosen theme is:

"My ideal secret cabin"

Imagine the cabin where you would like to take refuge (in the trees, by the water, in space, in an unusual place, in short, wherever your imagination takes you) 😊

**********************

To launch this #6 IA Challenge, I propose my secret cabin, a place lost in the middle of the forest, nestled in the hollow of a tree where I can let all my thoughts escape, in my cozy little niche. This is what my secret cabin could be 😻

Have fun, your creations will make our eyes shine anyway.

Post your entry on your blog, I will collect your creations as you go > (photo or animation, a caption if you wish)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Program:

May 22: Start of voting to choose the theme

May 29: Launch of Challenge #6 on the selected theme.

June 8: End of the challenge and participant voting.

June 11: Challenge results.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The participants :

@ai-satin-chic @gigiprinceton @gigiprinceton2 @danni-gurrl @mohairmaster @anderii @astogurlnikkipinkai @andysfantasie @alyssa-ai @celestmilena @celestmilena2 @mistressmaurahypno @synth-ai @fluffyfaza @softsmooth69 @miphisticated @sarahwellshunter @angelmiledg

If I forgot anyone, please feel free to leave a comment or send me a private message.

If someone on the list does not want to participate, please let me know so I can remove your tags.

[morbidology]

These two photographs show three-year-old Ryker Webb before and after he was found after becoming missing in the wilderness for two days.

He disappeared in Sanders County, Montana, in June of 2022 while playing in a rural area with his dog. He was reported missing, prompting an extensive search effort. Ryker was eventually found two days later hiding in a shed in the woods about 2.4 miles away from where he was last seen.

Despite the challenging conditions and his young age, Ryker was found safe and in relatively good health. He was taken to a hospital for evaluation and, remarkably, had only minor injuries and dehydration.

The second photograph was snapped from inside an ambulance, and Ryker was described as looking "shell-shocked" from his experience in the forest.

[btsjk-biased]

I was tagged by some amazing creators: @raplinenthusiasts / @jkvjimin / @cordiallyfuturedwight / @yooboobies / @taehyunghobi

Thank you so much for tagging me! I'm so honored! 💜

I created my blog this May. I never would have thought that this little blog could get so much attention. There are so many lovely people here, who are so nice to me. I’m thankful for that. I may not be very creative and productive, but I love making gifs. I feel really out of place here sometimes, but I still enjoy running my blog and decorating it prettily. I hope that the upcoming year will be better, especially since BTS are coming back. And I want to continue making gifs and updating my blog.

For 2024 wrapped I picked my favorite gifsets that I have made from each month since I started this blog.

May

Handsome men in the forest (photoshoots with nature are my favorite)

‘Love Yourself: Speak Yourself’ solo stages

Jung Kook ‘Seven’ interview for Spotify

Glowing

‘Seven’ Campaign Film

Flowers in his hair

Lovely prince

GOLDEN relax room (Spotify)

June

Dreamy (one of favorite concepts from albums)

JK for anan magazine

OUR PRECIOUS 7: Happy BTS 11th Anniversary! (2024.06.13) (this set is really important to me, I tried to match bts solo works by colors)

Jung Kook: BTS Summer Packages (these releses are one of my favorites)

Jung Kook ‘Seven’ x Inkigayo

Jung Kook for Vogue Korea: ‘Modern Hip Hop’

Jung Kook for Vogue Korea: ‘All That Jazz’

Jung Kook for Vogue Korea: ‘1970s Punk’

Jung Kook for Vogue Korea: ‘British Rock in the 60s’ (yeah! I had to make a few separate sets for vogue korea, because look at him! I think british rock set is my favorite out of them)

That flowery shirt on him (coloring this video was challenging to me)

MOTS ON:E concept photo book x MY TIME

JK for MOTS ON:E concept photo book

‘For Youth’: M Countdown (just tried to gently unwhitewash this video, and it turned out to be one of my favorite sets of all time, I really like this outfit on him)

July

I’ll be… lovin’ you right!

Insanely handsome

Are You Sure?! Launch Trailer (tried to combine edits with gifs for the first time)

JK to ARMY: After I met you, I could become an incredible person. It’s all thanks to you. I’m always thankful and I love you. (important words to me, also I tried to get rid of green filter on the video here, it was really hard to do)

7 princes

Jimin ‘Who’

‘Airplane pt.2’: Summer ver.

Jung Kook after Yoongi’s concert

The cutest boxer

August

But I still want you (an emotional song that brings tears to my eyes)

Enjoying some wine

Jung Kook and J-Hope in Love Yourself concert VCR (I love this vcr so much!)

Morning coffee

Relaxing on the yacht

Fun time in the pool

Cutie on the go-kart

Mood

In the waters of Jeju

He is so cute!

September

Happy Birthday, Jung Kook! (I worked on this one the longest and I like it so much, I decided to start making birthday posts in this style, they all are special to me)

Soft Yoongi (chose completely different videos from different years and tried to match them all in one set)

Jung Kook loves snow

Happy Birthday, Namjoon!

Peaceful time on the yacht

Jung Kook in ‘Are You Sure?!’ (it took me so long to make this one, I wanted to have a complication with some of my favorite moments with JK from every episode of the show)

October

Delicate spring look

Happy Birthday, Jimin!

Mint choco

Jin ‘I’ll Be There’ (I’m so happy that he is back! this song means a lot to me!)

Chilly

November

Tender-hearted cutie (I always cry watching this clip, he is too precious)

Jin ‘Happy’

Jin ‘Running Wild’

V ‘Winter Ahead’

December

Happy Birthday, Seokjin!

Checking reactions after performing at TSX, Times Square

The finest Calvin Klein global ambassador

Yoongi (Love Yourself: Tear)

Soft and delicate

Tagging @jung-koook / @heybaetae / @kimtaegis (only if you want to, no pressure) and anyone who wants to do it too!

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 19 — mechanic — 843 words aka motocross enthusiasts to future boyfriends

James hastens to unclip and throw off his helmet. Carelessly, he throws it to the side where it lands with a dull thud in the foliage while he runs over to the person that just slipped off their motocross bike in front of him.

They were racing each other.

He came out of nowhere, appearing on the trail right next to James. As if he’d materialized himself out of thin air. Decked out in all black and bike an atrocious lime yellow-green that doesn’t blend with the background of the forest even if it wanted to.

He’d snaked his way in front of James when their twin paths united again. Two fingers were tipped from his helmet in a mock salute and then he’d accelerate hard and fast, swirling dirt at James’ helmet visor.

And, well. James has never said no to a challenge a day in his life. Especially from such a cheeky opponent. So James had revved his engine and done his best to keep up and find ways to overtake his mysterious challenger.

The thing is, the other guy was fast. Quick and nimble on his bike, winding between trees and seeking out every opportunity to get a good head start. Jumping off hills instead of taking them easier, dangerous maneuvers, snapping branches and leaving behind angry wheel tracks.

And James was chasing. As soon as the trees cleared a little James managed to pull almost level with him. The biker threw multiple looks over his shoulder when he noticed and James’ grin sharpened when he heard a short laugh from his front left. They parted ways when James chose to round a hill instead of going up and over it, slowing down to keep out of the other’s landing range.

But just as quickly James’ smile was gone.

Maybe the ground was muddier than the guy thought or he got too high-spirited. His hind wheel slipped right from underneath him upon hitting the ground again, making him tumble forward with the remaining momentum and his bike sideways.

Now, James skidders down onto his padded knees next to the body laying in the dirt. “Fuck, hey! You okay?”

He gets a groan in response, raspy and breathless.

And then James gets all breathless when the other guy weakly shoves off his own helmet. It’s pale skin contrasting starkly with his all black getup, dark curls tumbling onto his forehead and stormy eyes fluttering up at him.

Oh.

The gorgeous man on the ground grunts vaguely, “Never been better.”

James makes a skeptical noise. “Hey, open your eyes for me again. Can you see clearly?”

Slowly, grey eyes blink open and try focusing on James’ figure kneeling over him. His lips part around a silent gasp once they’re wide open, looking at James intensely. “Um, yeah,” he answers.

James’ mouth tips into a grin. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” the other breathes weakly.

“And your name is?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, “And how many fingers do you see, Regulus?” He holds up 3.

“Three,” Regulus answers dutifully.

James switches his fingers, holding his thumb to his forefinger, the tips of both of them creating a little heart. “And how many now?” James smirks.

Regulus’ wide eyed glance turns into a scowl, lips pouting as he pushes James’ hand away with a grumbling noise. James doesn’t miss the way his cheeks pinken though.

Regulus tries to sit up but he immediately plops back onto his elbows with a groan.

“Don’t be a hero,” James admonishes and pushes him to lay back down.

“How’s my bike?” Regulus wants to know. It’s quiet safe for the sounds of the forest, birds chirping, wind rustling the thicket.

James looks over his shoulder where the lime green atrocious is laying sideways in the leaves. The motor isn’t on anymore but it doesn’t look bent or scratched. “Looks in okay shape,” James replies, turning back to Regulus. He’s looking up at him with an uneasy gleam in his bright eyes. James drives a hand through his hair, licks his lips. Regulus’ eyes follow the motion. ”Easily fixable, I bet,” James reassures, “Probably just some of the electronics impacted.”

Regulus lets his head thump back into the foliage with an unhappy groan.

James grins. “Hey, y’know what? I’ll take you to my mechanic. Guy’s awesome! Funniest person I know and he really knows his bikes.”

James expects Regulus to lighten up and be thankful for the offer but instead he’s met with an almost patronizing smile in return. “Hard pass. I already have a trusted mechanic.”

James narrows his eyes, feeling defensive. “Well, your loss then. Sirius always does a flawless job for a good price. Plus,” he grins again, “His fancy ass espresso machine makes a mean hot chocolate. And he lets me have one every time.” James nods to himself, feeling victorious.

Something flits over grey eyes and then Regulus’ own lips tip onto a smirk. “I know,” he answers and James is properly confused for a few momentps before Regulus goes on. “I bought it for my brother.”

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Revelator:

Every June, cities around the globe celebrate Pollinator Week, an international event to raise awareness about the important roles that birds, bats, bees, butterflies, beetles, and other small mammals serve in pollinating our food systems and landscapes. These crucial species are declining worldwide, with many on the brink of extinction.

Cities have responded to this crisis with a variety of urban initiatives designed to foster pollinator habitats and in the process transform once-stark cement landscapes — as well as pocket parks, curb strips, and highway dividers — into lush, welcoming areas for pollinators and humans alike.

In Washington, D.C., ambitious pollinator projects are abundant on rooftops of public, office, and private spaces, ranging from the renovated D.C. Public Library’s main branch to National Public Radio’s headquarters, which hosts an apiary. Throughout the District of Columbia, municipal code requires buildings to maintain the tree boxes and curb strips outside their properties. This often leads to creative landscaping on the smallest of scales.

It’s not just businesses. Parks and other public spaces also play an important role. For example, Fargo, North Dakota’s Urban Pollinator Plots Project aims to establish more than 50 acres of high diversity, forb-rich, native prairie plantings in urban parklands.

“I think some of the bigger challenges are just simply the establishment of the prairie,” says Sam DeMarais, a park forester in the Fargo Park District, who oversees the program. “It’s a skill set and a knowledge base that really takes a keen eye and some diligence on doing it properly. Everyone thinks you can just plant the prairie and let it go, but that’s not really the case.”

Fargo’s and Washington, D.C.’s programs are each over 10 years old, and time has brought knowledge of what works and doesn’t, and the ability to adapt. But less-established initiatives across the country could provide even more clues. A new project at the Port of Vancouver, in Washington state, aims to add a small native plant and flower pollinator garden in the port’s mitigation bank in the Lower Columbia River watershed. It could serve as a case study in introducing pollinators into industrial areas. In Michigan, the nonprofit organization Detroit Hives showcases how to transform vacant lots into pollinator-friendly habitat, a program that recently contributed to Detroit joining the Bee City USA program. Researchers in Puerto Rico are examining the relationships between animal and plant resources in urban areas on the island, and conducting interviews to learn more about public perspectives on plants and wildlife.

But why stop at the city level? Pollinator programs around the world can look to Ireland, where the entire island, north and south, has implemented the All-Ireland Pollinator Plan, a program that brings together community groups, local authorities, councils, businesses, farmers, and others to create a pollinator-friendly landscape.

[reasonsforhope]

"As countries around the world begin to either propose or enforce zero-deforestation regulations, companies are coming under growing pressure to prove that their products are free of deforestation. But this is often a far from straightforward process.

Take palm oil, for instance. Its journey from plantations, most likely in Indonesia or Malaysia, to store shelves in the form of shampoo, cookies or a plethora of other goods, is a long and convoluted one. In fact, the cooking oil or cosmetics we use might contain palm oil processed in several different mills, which in turn may have bought the raw palm fruit from several of the many thousands of plantations. For companies that use palm oil in their products, tracing and tracking its origins through these obscure supply chains is a tough task. Often it requires going all the way back to the plot level and checking for deforestation. However, these plots are scattered over vast areas across potentially millions of locations, with data being in various states of digitization and completeness...

Palmoil.io, a web-based monitoring platform that Bottrill launched, is attempting to help palm oil companies get around this hurdle. Its PlotCheck tool allows companies to upload plot boundaries and check for deforestation without any of the data being stored in their system. In the absence of an extensive global map of oil palm plots, the tool was developed to enable companies to prove compliance with regulations without having to publicly disclose detailed data on their plots. PlotCheck now spans 13 countries including Indonesia and Malaysia, and aims to include more in the coming months.

Palm oil production is a major driver of deforestation in Indonesia and Malaysia, although deforestation rates linked to it have declined in recent years. While efforts to trace illegally sourced palm oil have ramped up in recent years, tracing it back to the source continues to be a challenge owing to the complex supply chains involved.

Recent regulatory proposals have, however, made it imperative for companies to find a way to prove that their products are free of deforestation. Last June, the European Union passed legislation that prohibits companies from sourcing products, including palm oil, from land deforested after 2020. A similar law putting the onus on businesses to prove that their commodities weren’t produced on deforested land is also under discussion in the U.K. In the U.S., the U.S. Forest Bill aims to work toward a similar goal, while states like New York are also discussing legislation to discourage products produced on deforested land from being circulated in the markets there...

PlotCheck, which is now in its beta testing phase, allows users to input the plot data in the form of a shape file. Companies can get this data from palm oil producers. The plot data is then checked and analyzed with the aid of publicly available deforestation data, such as RADD (Radar for Detecting Deforestation) alerts that are based on data from the Sentinel-1 satellite network and from NASA’s Landsat satellites. The tool also uses data available on annual tree cover loss and greenhouse gas emission from plantations.

Following the analysis, the tool displays an interactive online map that indicates where deforestation has occurred within the plot boundaries. It also shows details on historical deforestation in the plot as well as data on nearby mills. If deforestation is detected, users have the option of requesting the team to cross-check the data and determine if it was indeed caused by oil palm cultivation, and not logging for artisanal mining or growing other crops. “You could then follow up with your supplier and say there is a potential red flag,” Bottrill said.

As he waits to receive feedback from users, Bottrill said he’s trying to determine how to better integrate PlotCheck into the workflow of companies that might use the tool. “How can we take this information, verify it quickly and turn it into a due diligence statement?” he said. “The output is going to be a statement, which companies can submit to authorities to prove that their shipment is deforestation-free.” ...

Will PlotCheck work seamlessly? That’s something Bottrill said he’s cautiously optimistic about. He said he’s aware of the potential challenges with regard to data security and privacy. However, he said, given how zero-deforestation legislation like that in the EU are unprecedented in their scope, companies will need to sit up and take action to monitor deforestation linked to their products.

“My perspective is we should use the great information produced by universities, research institutes, watchdog groups and other entities. Plus, open-source code allows us to do things quickly and pretty inexpensively,” he said. “So I am positive that it can be done.”"

-via Mongabay, January 26, 2024

--

Note: I know it's not "stop having palm oil plantations." (A plan I'm in support of...monocrop plantations are always bad, and if palm oil production continues, it would be much better to produce it using sustainable agroforestry techniques.)

However, this is seriously a potentially huge step/tool. Since the EU's deforestation regulations passed, along with other whole-supply-chain regulations, people have been really worried about how the heck we're going to enforce them. This is the sort of tool we need/need the industry to have to have a chance of genuinely making those regulations actually work. Which, if it does work, it could be huge.

It's also a great model for how to build supply chain monitoring for other supply chain regulations, like the EU's recent ban on companies destroying unsold clothes.