#paper seed company

[exopelagic]

I’m kinda glad I spent so much time looking at crop science this term bc turns out it’s unbearable and I couldn’t actually do this like I was considering. Progress!!

#it’s like FINE I can deal with it but long term??? I would fucking diw #crop people are so like. angry too. this is about you Sinclair #idk what it could be abt this topic specifically like. I’m guessing bc it’s high stakes largely expensive science with limited resources. #and goddamn nobody agrees on what you should be doing #there’s also the whole commercialisation thing bc the state of farming is pretty fucking bleak on all fronts #but especially on crop improvement. you patent your thing immediately and hope a seed company buys it up and funds the expensive trials #bc otherwise there’s no way in hell your thing’s even getting made let alone actually being Used in any practical way #this is a group of people who are trying rlly hard to help people in a real tangible way in the face of smth genuinely terrifying #(crop yields haven’t significantly accelerated in decades and soon they won’t be able to keep up) #but the process to Doing Anything Abt It involves not only the typical hell of academia but the combined challenges of #stubborn farmers. uninformed public. late stage capitalism. the whole regulatory mess of GMOs #so it seems like everyone’s at each others throats all the time bc there’s this sense of urgency #bc hey dude we haven’t made much progress since artificial fertilisers but maybe if you FUCKING LISTENED TO ME #:/ #im exaggerating not all of them are like this I’ve read some very nice very cool papers but goddamn some of them are Pissed #in a way I haven’t seen too much so far #as always I’m the annoying idealist what if we did All Of It Anyway #like come on what’s the harm in working C4 rice if we can get it that’d be incredible #we can’t we still figure out loads abt how leaf anatomy works and how C4 photosynthesis works is that not still a win. that shit has uses #ANYWAY THIS HAS BEEN MY CROPS RANT FUCK SINCLAIR ALL THE HOMIES HATE SINCLAIR #im sure he’s done some very important work on water use but the guy is so condescending I didn’t know you could do that in a paper #luke.txt

[not-terezi-pyrope]

Often when I post an AI-neutral or AI-positive take on an anti-AI post I get blocked, so I wanted to make my own post to share my thoughts on "Nightshade", the new adversarial data poisoning attack that the Glaze people have come out with.

I've read the paper and here are my takeaways:

Firstly, this is not necessarily or primarily a tool for artists to "coat" their images like Glaze; in fact, Nightshade works best when applied to sort of carefully selected "archetypal" images, ideally ones that were already generated using generative AI using a prompt for the generic concept to be attacked (which is what the authors did in their paper). Also, the image has to be explicitly paired with a specific text caption optimized to have the most impact, which would make it pretty annoying for individual artists to deploy.

While the intent of Nightshade is to have maximum impact with minimal data poisoning, in order to attack a large model there would have to be many thousands of samples in the training data. Obviously if you have a webpage that you created specifically to host a massive gallery poisoned images, that can be fairly easily blacklisted, so you'd have to have a lot of patience and resources in order to hide these enough so they proliferate into the training datasets of major models.

The main use case for this as suggested by the authors is to protect specific copyrights. The example they use is that of Disney specifically releasing a lot of poisoned images of Mickey Mouse to prevent people generating art of him. As a large company like Disney would be more likely to have the resources to seed Nightshade images at scale, this sounds like the most plausible large scale use case for me, even if web artists could crowdsource some sort of similar generic campaign.

Either way, the optimal use case of "large organization repeatedly using generative AI models to create images, then running through another resource heavy AI model to corrupt them, then hiding them on the open web, to protect specific concepts and copyrights" doesn't sound like the big win for freedom of expression that people are going to pretend it is. This is the case for a lot of discussion around AI and I wish people would stop flagwaving for corporate copyright protections, but whatever.

The panic about AI resource use in terms of power/water is mostly bunk (AI training is done once per large model, and in terms of industrial production processes, using a single airliner flight's worth of carbon output for an industrial model that can then be used indefinitely to do useful work seems like a small fry in comparison to all the other nonsense that humanity wastes power on). However, given that deploying this at scale would be a huge compute sink, it's ironic to see anti-AI activists for that is a talking point hyping this up so much.

In terms of actual attack effectiveness; like Glaze, this once again relies on analysis of the feature space of current public models such as Stable Diffusion. This means that effectiveness is reduced on other models with differing architectures and training sets. However, also like Glaze, it looks like the overall "world feature space" that generative models fit to is generalisable enough that this attack will work across models.

That means that if this does get deployed at scale, it could definitely fuck with a lot of current systems. That said, once again, it'd likely have a bigger effect on indie and open source generation projects than the massive corporate monoliths who are probably working to secure proprietary data sets, like I believe Adobe Firefly did. I don't like how these attacks concentrate the power up.

The generalisation of the attack doesn't mean that this can't be defended against, but it does mean that you'd likely need to invest in bespoke measures; e.g. specifically training a detector on a large dataset of Nightshade poison in order to filter them out, spending more time and labour curating your input dataset, or designing radically different architectures that don't produce a comparably similar virtual feature space. I.e. the effect of this being used at scale wouldn't eliminate "AI art", but it could potentially cause a headache for people all around and limit accessibility for hobbyists (although presumably curated datasets would trickle down eventually).

All in all a bit of a dick move that will make things harder for people in general, but I suppose that's the point, and what people who want to deploy this at scale are aiming for. I suppose with public data scraping that sort of thing is fair game I guess.

Additionally, since making my first reply I've had a look at their website:

Used responsibly, Nightshade can help deter model trainers who disregard copyrights, opt-out lists, and do-not-scrape/robots.txt directives. It does not rely on the kindness of model trainers, but instead associates a small incremental price on each piece of data scraped and trained without authorization. Nightshade's goal is not to break models, but to increase the cost of training on unlicensed data, such that licensing images from their creators becomes a viable alternative.

Once again we see that the intended impact of Nightshade is not to eliminate generative AI but to make it infeasible for models to be created and trained by without a corporate money-bag to pay licensing fees for guaranteed clean data. I generally feel that this focuses power upwards and is overall a bad move. If anything, this sort of model, where only large corporations can create and control AI tools, will do nothing to help counter the economic displacement without worker protection that is the real issue with AI systems deployment, but will exacerbate the problem of the benefits of those systems being more constrained to said large corporations.

Kinda sucks how that gets pushed through by lying to small artists about the importance of copyright law for their own small-scale works (ignoring the fact that processing derived metadata from web images is pretty damn clearly a fair use application).

#not-terezi-speaks #ai #nightshade

[chiibi-chaan]

Hello! Can you write reader play with Neuvillette's balls while he works please

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠| 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 ➭ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫| 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥.

𝐂𝐰| 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 (𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈), 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢’𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 + 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐀/𝐍| 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲~

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Neuvillette didn’t know how things came to be like this, he just wanted you to stay with him, keeping him company while he took care of some important papers in his office. And yet, here you were, kneeling on the floor between his legs, with his cock stuffed in your mouth and your hands fondling his balls. At first you just wanted to tease him a little, because he was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t even spare you a glance, but now you were actually doing it because he looked so adorable while you bobbed your head, sucking his cock just the way he liked. He could feel his face reddening, his ears and cheeks burning from embarrassment and pleasure. He tried his best to hold back his moans, the pen in his hand trembling as he scribbled on his papers.

His other hand gripped your hair, his body stiffening as he pushed your head further down, forcing more of his length down your throat. He gulped as someone knocked on the door of his office, the receptionist melusine, Sedene, coming in soon after. You almost gagged as the grip of Neuvillette tightened on your hair, holding your head still with his cock buried into your throat as the melusine reminded him that his next trial is in one hour. Your nails dug into his thighs, your body hidden under his desk with his legs caging you, and your throat contracting around his shaft as you tried your best to stay silent while trying to breath at the same time, your face reddening from the lack of air. You could hear Neuvillette coughing to hide a groan, his cock pulsing into your mouth while he shifted in his chair, his teeth clenched tightly as you massaged his balls gently, feeling the vein on the underside of his shaft throbbing against your tongue. You didn’t even have time to understand that the melusine left that he was already spilling his seed directly down your throat, making you gag and choke, tears forming in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. He finally let go of your hair, allowing you to pull his cock out of your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as you coughed and gasped for air. You looked up at him with glistening eyes, your tongue swirling over his tip and sucking on it gently. And by the way he was looking down at you right now, it seemed like he didn’t find the whole situation funny, like you did earlier. His breath was heavy, and his eyes darkened with an almost wild, animalistic desire, his hand squishing your cheeks as he pulled you up into a sloppy kiss.

You almost put him in a very, very embarrassing situation in front of an employee he works with, and he had to make sure to give you a lesson you won’t forget once you both go back home. By the way he gripped your throat and kissed you, you knew just how much he was delighted by the idea of putting a brat like you back to your place. It seemed like a promise; be ready for what awaits you, because you will never think about doing something like that again after he’s done with you.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡-

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥... 𝐈𝐭’𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨. 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝟒 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? (𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲, 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐨, 𝐲’𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰... 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬... 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.)

#gn reader #neuvillette #genshin impact #neuvilette smut #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #x reader

[h3artstain]

A list of (realistic) things you can do to be more environmentally friendly

(from an earth-loving horticulture student.)

— COSMETICS

Use bar soap instead of soap bottles

Use old toothbrushes for cleaning surfaces

Try exploring and researching some homemade face/body/lip products

Use ice sleeves, sunglasses, and caps instead of sunscreen (Edit: I’ve seen people say that it is safer and even necessary to wear sunscreen at all times so try to use eco friendly sunscreen instead! In my country it’s pretty uncommon to wear sunscreen often as we usually wear ice sleeves which is why I did not know this oof)

Use coffee grinds or homemade tumeric masks instead of cosmetic products with exfoliator beads

Invest in a metal ear cleanser instead of cotton buds

Try placing more importance on skincare instead of contributing to exploitative beauty companies by buying makeup

Use cosmetic products that do not contain palm oil

— CLOTHING

Try as much as possible to rewear your outfits at least twice before washing them

Actually WEAR your clothes! I know some of y’all just wear them once for your Instagram post and let it rot in your closet forever. Stop doing that!

Thrift, stitch up holes in your clothes, and use second hand clothing instead of supporting fast fashion companies like SHEIN, H&M, Zara, etc.

Cut up your old clothing into yarn and do macramè with it

Cut patches of old clothing to turn into reusable cotton pads

Learn how to knit, crochet or stitch your clothes!

If you use tampons, try menstrual cups or discs instead. If you use pads, try reusable pads or period underwear. (Trust me, it works). Also, use reusable panty liners instead of disposable ones. They may seem expensive but you will end up saving a lot more in the long run

— GARDENING

Plant seeds/cuttings in your old bottles, jars, and containers

Propagate your plants and exchange cuttings with your friends instead of buying new plants

Make your own soil mixes instead of buying soil mixes

Better yet, don’t use soil for your indoor plants and try getting into hydroponics or semihydroponics instead. This saves so much water and doesn’t contribute to mining of soil

Fertilise plants with fruit peels, coffee grinds, and tea leaves. (DO NOT use chemical fertiliser on soil)

Plant more legume plants in your garden instead of using nitrogen fertilisers. (Look up the nitrogen cycle if you need an explanation on this)

Avoid pesticides unless really needed. Try sprinkling cinnamon powder on soil or spraying neem oil on plants and soil to keep away pests.

If you have a lawn, try looking into rain gardens and consider making one

Let the (non invasive) weeds in your lawn/garden grow! They are there for a reason!

Stop killing earthworms and millipedes in your garden. This also applies to snails native to your region. They are there for a reason.

Water used to wash fruits and rice can be used to water plants

— REDUCE, REUSE

Use the caps of jars as soap holders

Use recycled paper/notebooks

Wash and dry your glass/plastic items before throwing them in the recycling bin

Keep any plastic bags for future use

Use eco friendly or reusable dish sponges

Use reusable straws and cups

Invest in a fabric cup holder

Bring a water bottle with you wherever you go

Drink more water and less sugary drinks

Bring reusable bags for buying groceries instead of using plastic ones

Always keep a folded up tote/shopping bag with you in case you spontaneously decide to buy something

— ELECTRICITY

Set a timer on your air conditioning instead of letting it run throughout the night

Better yet, use a fan instead of an air conditioner

Open your windows! Aerate your home!

Allow natural light to enter your home during the daytime, so as to avoid turning on your lights

Switch to LED lightbulbs instead of regular lightbulbs

Turn off any switches in your house when they are not in use

Collect the water from your air conditioner/dehumidifier condenser and use that to water plants, clean surfaces, steam ironing, and flushing toilets. Do not drink it though!

— INTERNET

Delete your all of your unwanted emails

Delete your inactive social media accounts

Try not to post excessively on social media and stop scrolling excessively too. This not only reduces energy usage but also improves your mental health and productivity

Try to keep to one social media app instead of having so many

Reduce your internet usage

Save your eBooks on a thumbdrive instead of on cloud

Use Ecosia instead of Google

Stop being influenced by social media trends that only just contribute to consumerism

Download music instead of streaming

Reduce online shopping

— FOOD

Reduce intake of processed foods

Reduce intake of fish, beef, and dairy

Try eating vegan or vegetarian foods at least once or twice a week

Cook your own meals instead of eating out

Bring your own food containers when taking away food from stores

Beeswax wrap instead of cling wrap!

Buy loose-leaf tea or plastic free tea bags instead of regular tea bags

Eat more mushrooms, vegetables, and fruits and drink more water

Support local farmers

And finally, educate yourself more about ecology and the environment!

#environment #ecology #sustainability #ecofriendly #anti lawn #anti beauty culture #hell on earth #save the earth #recycling #fast fashion #plants #feminism #environmental activism #plantcore #ecopunk #solarpunk #horticulture #sustainable #slow fashion #zero waste #plastic free #conservation #climate change #global warming #soil science

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

꧁ eddie x female reader

a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain

listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)

summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.

triggers: 18+ smut

author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.

The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.

His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.

The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.

If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.

Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.

The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.

Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.

He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.

The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.

Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.

Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.

Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.

Please don’t stop, please please.

The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.

Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.

You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.

“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”

The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.

You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.

“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.

Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.

His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.

When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.

“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”

It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.

The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.

He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.

You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.

Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?

Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.

His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.

He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.

Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”

This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”

After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?

A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”

And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.

He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.

The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.

But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.

That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.

That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”

His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”

When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.

The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.

Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”

A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”

“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”

You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”

“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”

Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.

You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”

The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”

He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.

“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”

“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”

Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.

“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”

You sighed, and shook your head yes.

The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.

His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.

He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”

Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.

Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.

Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.

“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.

A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”

You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.

“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.

“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.

You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”

Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.

Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”

“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”

He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.

Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”

You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”

His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.

Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.

Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.

Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.

He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.

Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.

That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.

When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.

The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.

“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”

Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.

Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.

Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”

A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”

He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”

A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”

You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”

He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.

But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.

“Do you ever miss it?”

He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”

That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.

You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.

Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.

🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire @aropodcastfuck

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie drabble #eddie blurb

[fox-bright]

Requisite Yearly We Do Not Buy from Baker Creek post

It's seed catalog time! One of my favorite times of year, honestly. While my garden mostly sleeps, full of dry leaves and fluffed-up birds and cold breezes, I'm indoors contemplating tomato varieties and telling myself that *this* will at last be the year I get the peas in on time.

As it is that appointed time, my usual yearly reminder: don't buy from Baker Creek!

Baker Creek are racist, fascist assholes! They intended to platform Cliven Bundy at their yearly conference, and Native seedkeepers have said that Baker Creek stole from them (and sell the product of that theft). They did a For Ukraine fundraiser that actually went to a far-right Ukrainian organization invested in obliterating LGBT rights.

Baker Creek might have some fun varieties of seed, but I can very nearly guarantee that if you see something there you want, I can find it or an analogue for you somewhere else.

Here's a selection of seed companies I personally have bought from, or people I trust have recommended; there will be a secondary and possibly tertiary reblog, since Tumblr only allows me to do ten links at once. If there's a company you've bought from and liked, please leave a review for them in the comments! What did you get, what did you like, how was the germination? Native Seed Companies: (please, please feel free to add more in comments to this post)

Companies Specializing in Native Pollinator Plants and Seed:

New to me last year, but HIGHLY RECOMMENDED seed preservation company (they have an incredible selection! My 2023 germination of their seed was like 98%! But they only accept paper order forms):

Cool weird nightshades, I got a bunch of dwarf tomato seeds from them last year and THEY didn't suffer from peppergate because they're a small company that does a lot of their own seed:

A list of ten more companies or so, which I buy from every year, will follow in a reblog in about two minutes; please share that one instead of this one.

#fox grows #fox gardens #gardening #baker creek #seed companies

[nymphiria]

KAVEH NSFW HEADCANONS — GENSHIN IMPACT

♱ ∿ fem!reader, big dick kaveh, size kink, public sex, faux sympathy dom, facials, pussy eating, cockwarming, deepthroating

༉ a/n — why is kaveh so gorgeous (*>﹏<*)

it’s a miracle how kaveh always manages to fit completely inside of your snug walls. it seems that no matter how many times he fucks you, your pussy never gets used to his size. even hours of long foreplay never prepare you for the initial push of his length inside. as much as he coos and strokes your teary cheeks as you shake under him, you know that secretly he enjoys watching you writhe in pain. the mischievous and sadistic glint in his eyes always betrays his true feelings.

kaveh is known throughout sumeru for his architectural genius and lavish creations. naturally, he takes great pride in every palace and building he designs as any artist would. though mapping every room and area in exquisite detail is fun, he prefers the moment in time when it’s almost ready to be unveiled to the public. during this period, he takes in upon himself to fuck you witless in every spot inside of the area. the extravagant windowsills will keep you steady for him as he feasts between your legs and the breathtaking garden is the second best view compared to you on your knees swallowing him to the base. what’s the point of all work and no play? besides, it wouldn’t truly be a kaveh design if he didn’t christen all the rooms with your juices.

everything you do in kaveh’s eyes is beautiful from your face to your soft snoring as you sleep. he could write an epic on your beauty in less than a day if his schedule allowed it. the one thing in teyvat that multiplies your beauty by tenfold is when your visage is covered in his seed. the way that the ropes of white intricately drip down your cheeks and wrap into your hair drives him wild. the strings of cum only serve to make your fucked out face even more ethereal — a painting of fine art that just needed a touch up. most of the time when he’s about to reach his peak, he’ll pull out of you just to shoot his load all over your eager face.

late nights for kaveh are often filled with sleep-riddled eyes and piles of paper that have yet to be finished. usually he doesn’t allow himself to crawl into bed with you until three or four o’clock in the early morning. stress is no stranger to him as he is used to the amount of work his career demands from him. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t long for your company in the evening — you’re his only stress relief. once your ears catch the frustrated sighs and yawns of your lover, you’ll tiptoe into his office and nestle yourself onto his lap. he doesn’t need to tell you what to do, you already know. the first sigh of relief comes when you’re releasing him from the confines of his pants, the second when you slip his half-hard dick inside of you. it’s not inherently sexual. most of the time you’ll both end up falling asleep with him buried to the hilt in your pussy. when you’re waking up, however, it’s a different story.

#꒰১ ˖° ∿ fics! #ᨳ kaveh! #kaveh x reader #kaveh smut #kaveh thirst #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kaveh genshin #genshin thirst

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Being Poly w/ Minsung♡

♡ I got a request for poly!minsung x chubby!reader and I'm more than happy to do this because I truly have the softest spot for minsung content ♡

Genre: fluffy fluff

If you're anxious/nervous each of them will hold one of your hands. Lino's calm, quiet presence makes you feel grounded while Han's bubbly warmth takes your mind off of things.

When you finally decide to get an apartment together Lino works for days planting you a gorgeous window garden with seeds of your favorite flowers. Han keeps it up, watering your flowers and even making you cute lil crafts out of the tinier ones.

It doesn't matter where/how you guys are cuddling, you'll always be in the middle so that they get equal parts of you and you get equal parts of them.

Arguments rarely happen but when they do you guys are patient with each other, understanding that each of you has your own unique way of communicating and that, no matter what, you love each other.

You rock, paper, scissors for who gets to control the aux in the car but you and Han end up giving it to Lino anyway to show how much you appreciate him always driving. Not before playing a song to properly annoy him though and singing it at full volume.

You guys have lockscreens of your favorite TV/movie trio that connects to make one complete picture when you put your phones beside each other's. It doesn't matter that your friends think it's cheesy. You love it.

No matter how hectic work has been you make sure to have dinner togther so that you can end the night in your happy place which is together.

If you cry then Han's gonna cry and Lino will hold out for as long as he can because "he's not as emotional" only to shed a few tears himself.

You respect each other's personal space but prefer to spend your time together anyway, even if it means quietly sitting in a room doing different things. You simply love each other's company.

There's no such thing as a kiss without passion in it. If it's a peck on the cheek or a full on makeout session, they pour their entire hearts into any physical contact with you.

Lino and Han's pre-existing friendship is a big part of why jealousy isn't an issue. Their shared love of you mixed with your support of their friendship makes your bond stronger.

#stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know x reader #minsung x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids fluff #chubby reader #plus size reader

[rebeccathenaturalist]

So on the surface this looks like a good thing. After all, we need mature and old-growth forests as they're havens for species dependent on that habitat type, and they are also exceptionally good carbon sinks compared to younger, less complex forests. (A big, old tree will still absorb and hold more carbon than a new, quick-growing one, and in fact for the first twenty or so years of its life a tree is actually carbon positive, releasing more than it absorbs.)

However, timber industries are trying to paint mature forests as fire hazards that need to be thinned out due to an abundance of plant life. They also tend to oppose leaving snags and nurse logs in the forest as "fuel", because they'd rather salvage what lumber they can from a freshly dead tree. So of course they're trying to push for cutting down trees as the solution to climate change's threat to mature forests.

Large, old trees are generally better adapted to surviving a fire simply by sheer size. Some have other adaptations, such as deeply grooved bark that can create relatively cooler pockets of air around the tree to help it survive, and the branches of older, taller trees of some species are higher up the trunk, away from lower-burning fires. And those old trees that survive are often important for helping to restore the forest ecosystem afterward, from providing seeds for new trees to offering wildlife safe haven and food.

When timber companies come in and log a forest, even if they don't take all the trees, they leave behind all the branches and twigs and just take the trunks. This creates a buildup of fine fuels that burn very quickly (think the twigs and paper you use to start a campfire), while removing coarse fuels that take longer to catch fire. In fact, an area that is subjected to salvage logging after a fire is much more likely to burn again within a few years due to all the fine fuels left behind by salvage logging.

Another factor is that not all forests are the same, even at similar ages. Here in the Pacific Northwest, as one example, the forests east of the Cascades live in drier conditions with slower plant growth, and low-level wildfires that can clean out ladder fuels before they pile up too high are more common. In those locations prescribed burns make sense.

However, the fire ecology of forests on the west side is less understood; because lightning storms are less common and the climate is wetter, fires just don't happen as often. And west-side forests are simply more productive, with denser vegetation that grows back quickly after even large fires like 2017's Eagle Creek Fire in the Columbia River Gorge. Historically speaking, west-side forests get fewer, but larger, fires. So the prescribed burns and other strategies employed for east-side forests aren't necessarily a good fit.

Finally, mature forests are much more biodiverse, and support many more species than a monocultural tree plantation. As climate change continues to affect the planet, mature forests and other complex ecosystems are going to become increasingly crucial to protecting numerous species, to include those dependent only on those ecosystem types. Thinning may seem like a great idea at first, but even if it isn't as destructive as clearcutting it will still damage a forest in ways that will take years to restore.

We really need to be wary of the narrative that thinning is the only way to curb climate change's effects on mature forests. It's a more complex situation than that, and we need to prioritize preserving these increasingly rare places as much as possible.

#wildfire #forest fire #forest fires #fire #forests #old growth forest #old growth forests #ecology #restoration ecology #logging #conservation #environment #scicomm #science communication #science #nature #plants #trees #climate change #global warming

[00-hawkboi-00]

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part One

Paring; Graves x m!reader

Word Count; ~3.3k

Warnings; slight mention of s/h in beginning. For like 2 sentences. A side character is in a coma.

A/n; Another installment already? So soon? It's more likely than you'd think. (also the title was orig. something else, but it was too long so I changed it. So enjoy this ref to that one depressing Christmas song lol.)

--- "code orange" ---

You were the acting Commander of Shadow Company. After the retreat from Las Almas, you and the other Shadows had been left without a leader. So, seeing as you had been second in command since the company had begun, you were indirectly assigned the position. It wasn't exactly something the others gave much thought to; you just happened to be there, barking orders of retreat when the fire caught.

Eleven months later, and here you were. Sitting at a cold, metal desk in a chair that squealed with every movement.

Almost forty-seven weeks after that nightmare had landed you back at home base. A little duller than you remembered, but it was still standing and it wasn't born from the seeds of betrayal. It was yours, it had always belonged to you and the others. That's all that mattered, you told yourself. They were still standing, just like this old, dusty facility, and that is all that counted.

Three-hundred-thirty-four and a half days since you had dug a virgin blade into the back of someone almost considered a friend, and had withdrawn sin instead. You fiddled with that blade now. Between burnt fingertips, singed with the flames of betrayal. Your usual gloves were discarded for this.. ritual of sorts; balancing the knife from finger to finger, slipping it between webbing. Watching it, feeling that cool metal against your mutilated skin, seeing your hidden reflection thrown back at you. You should have left it buried in his flesh, left it back in a whole other country. You hadn't.

Over eight thousand hours have passed, and you hadn't gotten far. Lounging in your familiar yet foreign office, the sharp edge of a blade pressing much too close to scarred, unfeeling palms. The only evidence that it was even there was found in the crimson droplets landing in muted thud's on your desk.

Four hundred and eighty-one thousand, eight hundred and one minutes after the fact and you had an untouched stack of recruitment papers piling up somewhere to your left. Forms you had yet to even make a conscious effort to flip through, even though the choice to reopen enlistments had been your own. Just the mere sight of that new, friendly face smiling on top of the mountain of documents had you grimacing. The bright image plastered there, far too optimistic for your taste, only brought back memories. Memories of other faces. Other names. Names that are lost, but never forgotten. Not to you. One shiny-new recruit could never fill the void of dozens of expertly trained, heartbreakingly familiar war-hardened soldiers.

An ungodly amount of seconds later and here you sat, in all your unholy, defaced glory. With burn scars traveling from the tips of your fingers and along your forearms. Over time you had found that a particularly nasty scar covering parts of your throat and consuming the edges of your jaw often brought back memories you weren't too fond of. It wasn't unusual to wear a mask when on a mission, all the Shadows did, but these days you would never be caught alive without that secure piece of cloth. Concealed and buried deep under, just like your disfigured hands.

So much time had passed, but it never felt like enough.

The first call of a mourning dove is what kick-starts your morning. Sleep wasn't a thing you did often these days, so you would wait in your office after tossing and turning in your bed for who knows how long. Doing the same little ritual every day before daybreak, before that first sorrowful trill.

Then, now that it was socially acceptable for you to, you would exit your office. Chin held high and every inch of skin–apart from the, thankfully, untouched flesh of your upper face–covered, shrouded in black.

Now that your Shadows were beginning to stir, the first part of your morning routine started with you making rounds. Giving a light knock to each metallic door, rousing them from the lingering remnants of sleep.

Once you were finished with that, you'd swing by each place where an exhausted Shadow was stationed. And–with the knowledge that they'd be replaced pretty soon–you would quietly relieve them from their duties. Allowing them to get a few more hours of sleep before the liveliness of the facility was in full swing.

With a murmured; "thanks, Lt." They'd be on their way.

After that, you'd swing by the mess hall and grab a protein bar. Making your way down to medical you would try your damnedest to keep the paranoia-ridden thoughts at bay. Thoughts like he was probably dead. Had died while you were away and you weren't there to see him pass. You ignored them because, just like every other day, when you made it back to his bedside; he was still breathing.

Shadow 0-9. Or, to his friends, Viper. One of the few from your original squad who had made it out of that godforsaken city alive. Well, barely. He was hooked up to various beeping machines, numerous tubes running in and out of his body. You weren't well versed in the knowledge of medical terminology, but you knew the main tube stuck down his throat was hooked up to a ventilator. The main thing keeping him breathing. Assisting his weak lungs in the seemingly daunting task.

Other than the medical tools keeping him breathing and his body stable, there was the–in your humble opinion–excessive amount of medical tape and bandages wrapped around practically his entire body. A near-fatal concussion. Several broken bones. Including, but not limited to, ribs, a wrist, mandible, femur, and humerus. In other words; the entire left side of his body was a mangled mess. A light dusting of his own fair share of burn wounds littered his body, but they weren't extreme and most likely wouldn't scar too badly. The same couldn't be said for you.

Some of the medics had joked that it was a miracle he was still alive. You hadn't laughed.

So there you sat. Watching his comatose sleeping form, nibbling at the protein bar you'd taken from mess. You'd sit there watching waiting for a few hours, guarding him from nothing in particular. There was nothing here that could hurt him. You trusted your medical staff, and they knew how important he was. How important all of your Shadows were. So, really, there was no reason for you to worry. No reason for you to sit here, watching over a man who barely even thought of you as a friend anymore.

But there was a tiny portion of your brain that told you as long as you were here, protecting him, he was untouchable. As if your mere presence was enough to keep the hands of death from reaching out and claiming his already half-dead body.

You could only sit there for so long before the intrusive thoughts became too much and your backside grew numb from sitting in that, frankly hard as hell, metal chair. With one last glance at him, you'd stand, turn around, throw your half-eaten protein bar away, and leave. Not even uttering a goodbye to the fresh morning staff before you were halfway through the door.

Next on your daily schedule was supervising afternoon drills. There had been a prolonged period of time after you all's return that these fields had been empty, the shooting range void of any life, and even the well-frequented gym was dead silent. With over half of the crew injured and the other half too shell-shocked to pick up a weapon or throw a punch, training had come to a standstill. But now, several grueling months later, the grounds were filled with bodies once more.

You didn't join in on the activities much these days. Preferring to train alone, usually when everyone else was asleep and under the blanket of night. But you found a bit of reprieve in watching. A small part of you settled at the sight of your Shadows performing their old drills, laughing and joking around with each other during breaks. It felt almost like old times. It reminded you that–while you'd lost more soldiers than you could sanely count–there was still good here. That they were alive and well, and not attached to an ungodly amount of life-stabilizing medical equipment.

You preferred them laughing without restraint–even if that meant you were a little lax on the rules he had put in place–over the sight of them bed bound to a thin, uncomfortable cot.

When afternoon training lulled to an end, you would silently take your leave. Not even glancing at the now-crowded mess hall–you should probably hire more staff, especially if there would soon be fresh recruits joining in soon–you would head straight for your office once more. Head up in the clouds–rainy, dark grey clouds.

You hated how familiar these walls were. How you could still hear the laughter of long-since dead soldiers lingering behind every corner. Their voices haunted you. It's what kept you up at night. Well, that and the unrelenting burn of your otherwise dead flesh.

The med team had said it should stop soon. They had even sent you on your way with a tube of burn cream. Something about nerve endings needing to scar over. That, besides an itching now and again, your marred skin should heal over pretty well over the course of a few months.

That had been a week after your return to base, and the tube had long since been used months ago. It still burned, still felt like you were surrounded by that scalding metal. Like you could still feel those flames melting your skin, even through your uniform, that acrid smoke scorching your heaving lungs.

You didn't think to mention this to the med staff. They had enough on their hands as it was, they didn't need you taking up their valuable time on top of it.

They had had to peel the cloth off your body. The mixture of nylon and cotton had melted, welding itself to your burning flesh. You'd been bed-bound for weeks. After that, though it was strongly encouraged you stayed still, you had had enough and we're walking around the base with the top half of your body wrapped in an excessive amount of gauze. It's not like they could stop you, after all.

Since you and the others had returned, missing a large chunk of the team that had gone with–including a certain someone no one had dared to mention–, not a single person had said a word against you. None of them questioned your authority. Not even the most hard-headed, he-who-shall-not-be-named loyal soldiers had opened their mouths. You had that going for you at least.

Now, pushing open your office door, it was time for the most dreadful time of your day. You had spent months getting your team back together and making sure everyone was at an acceptable level of okay before you made the company's presence known again. You had begun reasserting your credibility with other organizations, strengthening ties with old allies. No one else was going to do it, so it may as well have been you.

It was several, several more months after that when you had taken the step to reopen communications with the very team you had backstabbed. More time after that for their leader, the Captain himself, to even acknowledge your attempts at lending an olive branch.

After all of that, he had finally agreed to speak to you. And only you. His only prerequisites were that you were only to communicate with him directly and that you had no connections with the supposed dead man and the General. The Captain had required proof that the old commander was no longer in your ranks–you couldn't offer confirmed death, but several invasive questions later were enough for him. Failure to comply with these demands–and on the impossible chance he was alive–was followed by an unspoken threat of your untimely death.

Insurance. He'd called it.

So, here you were. Sitting in front of your laptop and waiting for that god-awful video call, hoping you would be able to salvage the shredded remains that were your allyship with task force 141. A bond that had been clawed apart and mutilated by your own sinful hands.

The ringtone pierced through the deafening silence of the room, ice-cold dread clutches at your chest and your body seizes. It takes you far too long to uncurl your clenched fist–a blank icon along with the phrase Capt. Price blinking on the screen–and urge a gloved finger to press that button and accept the call.

The fuzzy, pixelated screen eventually smoothes out and suddenly you have lost the ability to talk. You had never spoken to this man before, outside of encrypted emails.

"Evening, Lieutenant." His graveled, British voice echoes through the speaker. You had never even directly traded words with him in person, a silent shadow–hah–behind that arrogant man. An observer. Not much of a talker.

"You alright there?" He's obviously sitting in his own office. That wooden desk and warm-toned background is a high contrast to your own metal desk and dull, grey theme. "Lieutenant?"

"Jus'-" your accent had a habit of sneaking out of that latched box of professionalism when anxiety flooded your veins. You cleared your throat with a small cough to correct it. "Just peachy, Captain."

An awkward silence lulls on. This is why you didn't do this. You had always been a trusted soldier, well-versed in various strategies of combat. You could clear a room of unfriendlies with only your favorite blade without breaking a sweat. But this? You didn't do this. Communication. The very idea of it sent your mind reeling, all coherent thoughts scrambling.

"Good." Ohthankgod. "Now, are you ready to begin?"

"Affirmative, sir." Ew. Why did you sound like that? All… strained and unnatural. As if you were a robot imitating a human, or an alien occupying a body for the first time.

"Very well." The sound of some papers shuffling and a chair adjusting emit from his side of the call. "So we have already established that Gra-"

"The old commander." You quickly, and unthinkingly, interject. You internally cringe at your reflex reaction and you're about to apologize when the Captain says;

"Right. The old commander. The hopefully deceased commander."

"I cannot say for sure that he is, Captain." You really can't. There was a lot of fire. A lot of blood. "But I can confirm he does not reside with us any longer."

"And where would that be?"

"I'd rather not discuss this topic, sir." Ah, yes. Tell him the location of you and your Shadows. That sounded like a perfectly safe and wise decision.

"Of course." A beat of silence. "On to other matters then. Would you say your team has-"

A frantic knock at your door halts his question. You don't mute the call, but you do give a slight raise of your hand. For professionalism's sake, you wouldn't typically answer the door. But this sounded urgent. Hardly anyone ever knocked.

Looking up from your laptop, you call out a clipped; "Come in."

Venn opens the door quickly, barely catching it from slamming against the wall behind it. Her eyes are wide with panic, breathing slightly labored. Fear grips your heart and your already tense body goes eerily rigid.

She's about to open her mouth when you give a pointed look back down at your laptop and the in-progress video call. Venn nods slightly in acknowledgment and takes a moment to calm herself.

"Lieutenant." She says, voice level and stiff.

"Is there something wrong, 2-1?" You do your best to keep your own tone even but damnit it's taking everything in you not to launch to your feet and into action. You don't even know the problem yet.

"There's…" Venn takes a second to think, breathing deeply through her nose. "We've got a.. we've got ourselves a code orange, sir."

You inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

"A code orange. Are you certain, 2-1?"

"Yes." Her quick reply. You nod and look back down to the waiting man on the screen.

"Sorry, Captain." You grit out. "But I'm 'fraid we'll have to reschedule."

"Tomorrow then?" He looks suspicious of your behavior, even more, concerned with the words you and your Shadow had shared. You couldn't worry about that right now. Not with a fucking code orange.

"Sure." You slam the end call button with a little more pressure than necessary. Poor keyboard. It was a surprise the damned thing was still running.

When the Captain's image closes and disappears from your screen, you jump to your feet.

"Are you sure?" You ask again as you stalk around your desk. Venn moves out of the way to allow you to exit your office, hurrying to catch up to you as you don't stop. You don't even know where you're heading.

"Where?"

Those implemented codes had never actually been used before. This was a first. No one knew what to do with themselves.

"The front gate, sir." Her voice trembles–hell, her whole body is shaking–and there's obviously something she's not telling you. You don't press for more. You will find out soon enough.

"The front gate?"

A fucking code orange.

"Yes."

An intruder.

You both more or less start jogging after that. She doesn't expand further. Simply half walk-half running by your side.

It takes a few minutes to make your way down to the first level of the facility–and that's far too much in your opinion. Every second that went by was a second you didn't know what was happening. A second out of your control. What if someone was hurt? Dead? Was the intruder attacking? Was it someone you knew? An outsider? Maybe just a lost tourist. This far away from the city made that last one very unlikely.

You push through the final door that leads to the front lawn and slow your pace to an assertive walk. It wouldn't do you well to let the unknown subject know their presence was a major concern for you. You didn't want to give them that pleasure.

Venn leaves your side to join–when the hell did they all get outside??–the alarmingly large grouping of your Shadows at the gate.

When she gets there and announces your arrival to the first Shadow she sees, they all turn to look at you. It takes you being a couple of feet from the group for the man she had whispered to to speak.

"Lieutenant." Kip sighs, raising both hands out in a placating manner. There's a certain wariness in his tone you aren't too fond of. "Don't panic. Lemme just preface this by saying-"

"Show me." You had no time for pleasantries.

Another sigh. "As you wish."

The sea of soldiers parts, giving you a front-row seat to the person standing in the middle of the opened gate.

A person you had never thought you'd see again. Never wanted to see again. Especially not smiling.

"Hey, there, Pha-"

"Detain him." It's a simple command. And your Shadows follow without a second thought. As you had mentioned; no one questioned your authority.

He lets himself be grabbed. Excessive ties around his wrists, strained a little more roughly behind his back than necessary. They herd him away quickly and silently, not uttering a word.

"What are you gonna do, sir?" Venn, very hesitantly–shifting her weight from side to side–asks.

"Whatever is necessary."

So much time had passed,

Midnight laughs, shared glances, desperate touches, breathy gasps, skin on skin-

But it was never enough.

___

Masterlist | Next

___

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

I figured I'd tag y'all just in case. I know it's probably not the fic you were expecting, but it's a part of the same AU and their paths with eventually cross. If you don't wanna be tagged for this fic in particular let me know! ^-^

#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #graves x male reader #phillip graves

[movedtoeskew]

rating some covers i found on archive.org (links under readmore)

The Yellow Wall Paper (Small, Maynard and Company, 1901; cover art by E. B. Bird)

rating: 5/5 the stark typography of the title presses almost uncomfortably to the top edge of the cover, immediately catching the viewer's attention and planting the seeds of unease. the pattern is subtle, yet intricate and the artist has clearly lifted details directly from the book's description of the titular wallpaper. the deliberate central symmetry of the composition, which is only broken up by the title, creates an impression of uncomfortable proximity and restrictedness: one would have to stand quite close indeed, to have such a perfectly symmetrical view. how long have you been standing there, following the patterns on the wall?

2. The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (Feminist Press, 1973; cover art by Gilda Hannah)

rating: 2/5 they picked a nice, sickening shade of yellow (personal opinion if mine) and it sure is torn. unfortunately the pattern is rather meh.

3. The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories (Dover, 1997; cover art by Manuela Paul)

rating: 5/5 in a stroke of genius, the designer added a distortion effect to the lower part of the cover, making the already dizzying pattern look even more disorienting. a great and subtle cover, so i wont deduct points for the yellow being almost too warm.

4. The Yellow Wallpaper and Selected Writings (Virago, 2009; cover art by Noumeda Carbone).

rating: 4.5/5. the floral patterns are organic and intricate, but there's nothing especially unsettling about them. there's even a woman (even though she's not creeping). the overall impression is nice and it suits the book -- i quite like it

5. The Yellow Wall-Paper (Createspace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013; artist unknown)

rating: 2/5 a nice yellow shade, though not especially sickening. the artist made an acceptable effort with the pattern (they even included a woman), but it feels kinda sparse

6. The Yellow Wallpaper (Createspace Independent Publishing Platform, 2015; artist unknown)

rating: 0/5 it's bad. like what in the aesthetically curated instagram infographic is this. if someone locked me in a room with this wallpaper i'd become a greige minimalist momfluencer within weeks.

#🍲.txt #its just my onion etc etc #movedto book club #feel free to repost the picture if you need it for whatever or want to rate them yourself

[jessource]

prompts:　ttpd, the anthology by taylor swift.

your location, you forgot to turn it off.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

quick, quick, tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

now and then she rereads the manuscriptof the entire torrid affair.

if you wanna tear my world apart, just say you've always wondered.

if comfort is a construct, i don't believe in good luck.

i move through the world with a broken heart.

they killed cassandra first, 'cause she feared the worst.

don't want money, just someone who wants my company.

say it once again with feeling.

even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

we here-by conduct the post portem.

what doesn't kill you makes you awake.

they tried to warn you about me.

i'm not a doner, but i'd give you my heart if you wanted.

i got cursed like eve got bitten.

i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens in my mind.

i feel so high school every time i look at you.

I look in people's windows like i'm some deranged weirdo.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

she wrotе headlines in the local paper, laughing at each baby step i'd take.

one bad seed kills the garden.

when the truth comes out, it's quiet.

you see, i was a debutante in another life.

you have a favorite spot on the swing set.

the empathetic hunger descends.

i'm addicted to the 'if only'.

he said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers. soon it was over.

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

way to go, tiger.

i built a legacy that you can't undo.

you said some things that i can't unabsorb, you turned me into an idea of sorts.

i may never open up the way i did for you.

he was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

they knew, they knew, they knew the whole time.

i don't think you've changed much.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

they set my life in flames.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

i loved you the way that you were.

you're a just ruler covered in mud, you look ridiculous.

i'm there most of the year, 'cause i hate it here.

you saw my bones out with somebody new who seemed like he would've bullied you in school.

how did it end? i can't pretend like i understand.

this place made me feel worthless.

i wanna find you in a crowd, just to hide from you.

quick, quick. tell me something awful.

i won't confess that i waited, but i let the lamp burn.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

Buried down deep

out of your reach the secret we all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness.

splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

old habits die screaming.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

in my fantasies, i rise about it.

forgive me, [name], please know that i tried.

if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon?

behind her back, her best mates laughed.

you needed me, but you needed drugs more, and i can't watch it happen.

she's the albatross, she is here to destroy you.

i'll tell you one thing, honey. i can tell when somebody still wants me.

were you makin' fun of me?

nostalgia is a mind's trick.

i read about it in a book when I was a precocious child.

does it feel alright to now know me?

excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

life was always easier on you.

tell me all your secrets, all you'll ever be.

it wasn't a fair fight.

if i die screaming, i hope you hear it.

i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father.

are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

all that time you were throwin' punches, i was buildin' somethin'.

one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.

i'm hearing voices like a madman.

you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

but i can't forget the way you made me heal.

they nicknamed her 'the bolter'.

wise men once said 'wild winds are death to the candle'.

now i wanna sell my house and set fire to all my clothes.

i'm gonna get you back.

push the reset button, we're becomin' something new.

i'm watchin' american pie with you on a saturday night.

i'm an aston martin that you steered straight into the ditch.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #rp prompts #rp sentences #rp starters #rp memes #rp lyrics #rp lyric starters #taylor swift lyrics #ttpd: the anthology #memes #prompts #lyric sentence starters #mymemes. #*

[ahedderick]

I was slightly disappointed when I opened the pkg I ordered and found these seed packets for cucumbers and purple carrots. I quickly realized, though, that they are better; plain, non-glossy paper that can go in the compost pile when I'm done, no unnecessary picture, minimal ink used. I'm so used to fancy photos and lots of color that it took a minute to adjust! I sure do hope these carrots do well; our harvest last year (two different types from different companies) was embarrassingly minimal. Once it stops raining every other day I'll get out and dig the trench for the new asparagus I ordered from them.

I saved vines from last fall's sweet potatoes and kept them inside over winter. They're looking a little sad right now, but if they can hang in there until May, they can go back outside and have happy times at the edge between the main garden and the asparagus. I'm hoping that the vines run all through the asparagus bed in late summer and keep down the weeds.

#farmblr #gardenblr #solarpunk #gardening #seeds #vegetable #veggie garden

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale Seeking Godhood Part VII PATH 2

Wow. This took longer than I expected because it needed to be done justice so I couldn't rush it. This is choose your own adventure, Path 2 and conclusion. Path 3 will be coming soon!

Enjoy!

CW: Death

GALE'S POV

The letters blurred before his eyes, Gale brushing his fingers against his eyes and brought away wetness. Was he crying? What time was it? Gale blinked deliriously, realizing he must have fallen asleep at his desk, now waking from a horrific dream. 

Gale could not shake the feeling that the nightmare left in his gut. It was a dream that was so evocative it gnawed at him - it felt real. One that ruins the rest of a day. 

The dream started with you stood on the docks of Boulder’s Gate, the Chionthar just on the horizon. In the dream you stood between him and Raphael midbattle for the crown, and you - you stepped between them, desperate to help as Gale launched an attack. Gale’s heart lurched and he felt the bile rise in his stomach. The image was worse than he could endure. 

Gale uttered, “Dolor” - the disintegrate spell intended for Raphael - but it missed. Before he woke from this nightmare, the image of you dissipating to nothing but dust was engraved into the darkest crevices of his brain. Gale heaved, the violent sob shaking him. What was he doing?  

For six months Godhood was his focus. He was so close to achieving his goal - he should be elated, shouldn’t he?

The last three months spent in isolation took a massive toll on him. With not even Tara for company, Gale had never felt so alone. He hadn’t heard from her and ignored the constant communication from his mother. Although Godhood was within his grasp, the power of the celestial tempting, there was a deeper yearning.  

The dream shook him to the core, the blind quest for power and its consequences rushing over him all at once. How he had nearly killed you, how poorly he treated you, how poorly he treated Tara. It made him feel sick, disgusted with himself - he was no better than the Gods. He had no excuse and he felt a new determination plant its seed.  

***

YOUR POV

You are sitting on the docks when Tara finds you, something strapped to her collar. It is a warm night, a night that makes the sky blaze a brilliant pink and orange. The clouds look like puffy treats, as if you could pluck them from the air. A cool breeze off the water whispers through your hair. 

“It took me long enough to find you,” Tara huffs mind-landing and brushes her ears with her paws as she settles. You start by the sound of her voice and yelp. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve been give quite the task - Gale -“ 

“Don’t,” you said, holding up your hand as your expression darkened. “I’m not interested in having my heart ripped out over and over, thank you. I cannot help you. I will not help him.”  

“If you’d stop talking and listen a moment, perhaps you’d be inclined to hear what I have to say. If you insist on a closed mind, however, so be it. No wonder you an he got along so famously.” 

You grit your teeth and close your eyes, inhaling. You know if she asks for assistance you will not help. The better part of you is silenced by your curiosity and you indulge, “Fine.” Tara let out a forceful puff, indicating her displeasure. Her tail swishes and you take the warning. “What is it Tara? You came all this way, the least I can offer is to listen.” 

Tara seems assuaged and continues, “Gale wanted me to give this to you.” Tara looks at her neck and you raise a brow. “Yes, that.” You gingerly take the tightly rolled parchment, written on an impossibly small piece of paper. 

“I owe you more than simple apologies… I have been a sorry excuse for both a man and lover, and my behavior has been beyond inexcusable. I know I am not worthy of your time, company, or forgiveness. And yet - I write to ask for it. However long it takes, I will be here, waiting for you. -Gale” 

You feel the blood rush to your face, tears pricking at your eyes that begin to fall in large drops onto the parchment. You see your fingers trembling and Tara notes gently, preparing to take flight: “He forgot to note he surrendered the crown to Mystra.” 

*** 

You wait, absorbing and processing what you learned. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you received his letter. Not only did Gale want to see you, speak to you, he had surrendered the crown to Mystra after all. You fight yourself, unsure of how to feel - as if two parts of your soul tugged at the opposite ends of a rope. 

Your curiosity wanted to indulge this meeting, as did the part that desperately still loved Gale despite everything. Your logical mind, the one that wanted to protect you from further harm scolded, warned against the idea, warned against seeing him and indulging him when he hadn’t chosen you at the start. 

Gale wrote he would wait as long as it took - did he mean that? You are about to test that theory. 

** 

When you arrive in Waterdeep, Tara informs you that Gale is out - teaching - and wouldn’t be back for a few hours. Although you insisted you should leave, Tara refused and warned if you did not that she you would force her hand. You have no intention of finding out what that means. 

You sit for a while in the main hall, sunning yourself like Tara, not wanting to pry. As boredom and the nerves of seeing Gale ate at you, you decide to wander. You allow yourself to explore. You climb the iron stair to his study and the door opens with a click. It looks as it did the last time you were here and you inhale, a sharp pang coursing through you at the memory. 

You walk around the large oak desk, your fingers trailing across the smooth finish and you furrow your brow. Across his desk are all images - drawings. Some are crude sketches, some self portraits and a few of Tara lazing in the sun or playfully chasing a conjuration. A majority, though, shared the same subject. 

You. 

The first you notice was of the moment you pulled him from the portal. You are startled by how life-like it appears, gazing back at what feels like a reflection. There are dozens more, all memories Gale had of you - and some of a future yet to happen. You trace your thumb over the images and feel weak, collapsing into his chair your resolve evaporating. On some of the sketches are brief poems, words of both lament and love. Of a yearning that was visceral and you feel it deep in the marrow of your bones. 

“Oh,” your head shoots up and you and Gale lock eyes for the first time in months. “I didn’t - how are you?” He says breathlessly, although he hasn’t moved from the threshold in the door. He holds a pack, reading glasses a top his head and his gaze bears into you. You stumble as you stand and Gale lurches forward instinctively, “Are you alright?” Your breath catches as you realize the Gale you knew, the one you loved - the one you thought was a casualty of his ambition - he’s here before you now. His eyes are glazed with tenderness and something unconditional. 

“Yes, thank you,” You murmur and he clears his throat and steps into the room awkwardly, as if this is yours and he interrupted you in your own space. He stays on the opposite side of the study from you, seemingly hesitant to approach. You step to the front of the desk, closing the gap between you marginally. “You wrote.” 

“I did,” Gale breaths and begins to rub his chin, “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. To be clear,” he said abruptly, “I am very glad to see you. I’m a bit shocked actually so please excuse my ineloqunece at present.” You see his face bloom crimson as he maintains eye contact with you and you feel your cheeks respond with a similar heat and you give a wry smile. You forgot how endearing this clumsiness was. It was so raw, so genuine - a part you hadn’t seen in some time. “I am so grateful you came.” Gale took a tentative step forward to test the waters. You allow it and he sighs, his eyes brightening and he takes another. 

You hold up a hand, crossing one arm across your chest. “Why did you ask me here?” 

Gale swallows and rubs the back of his neck. “How much did Tara tell you?” 

“Hm...” You toy with how much to tell him, if any thing at all and decide on the truth. “Only that you surrendered the crown to Mystra.” You see Gale’s expression drop for a moment, his eyes swimming with shame. It makes your chest tighten and stomach clench, your hand reaching out subconsciously though Gale is too far to touch. 

“Ah. Yes, okay. Shall we sit?” Gale gestures to his balcony and you follow, eager for the warmth of the sun and the sound of the waves lapping against the docks. You sit side by side, your knees brushing against each other and Gale combs a hand through his hair, looking out onto the horizon. “I…” he looks down and chuckles, “I wondered whether to share this bit with you - considering how much you sacrificed and did for me, it feels somehow… silly and unfair that this is was the final slap in the face I so clearly needed.” Your body quakes with adrenaline, your fight or flight in full gear and you bite the inside of your cheeks to ground yourself. “Do you want the long, sordid story or just the important bits?” 

You purse your lips, and say, “How about you tell me the important bits first, and then we can decide if I indulge you in the rest.” 

Gale gives a somber lopsided grin. “Very well. Raphael paid me a visit - a personal visit from a devil is not something to be encouraged, as we know. He told me that my having of the crown was for the best - that ambition was a delicious sin for an immortal to wield. At first I thought it was hyperbole, his usual dramatics -“ Gale pauses, looking at you, “I had a feeling that I could not shake, though. What if he was right? What if, despite my best intentions, I corrupted everything? More than just the Weave, more than the heavens - but all in this space and time. That what if ate at me.” You feel yourself smile. Gale is still incapable of telling a short story. Gale seems to realize this, noticing your look. It makes him blush and laugh, “Ah, you did say just the important bits. But this is all important, really if you think about it.” You smirk and gesture for him to continue, not wanting to influence his story telling. “It happened the night before I uncovered the final incantation. The dream, I mean. It felt so real…” Gale’s voice drops and he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he holds his mouth with his hands for a moment. 

You watch him and he sighs before sitting up again and turns to face you and takes your hands in his. Your breath hitches and you feel the rush of heat flood you. His hands are warm, familiar and it makes your soul ache for him. You allow him to take your hands, chasing the adrenaline of him. 

Gale continues: “Raphael had paid me a visit at this point and I… well, as you might imagine wasn’t exactly in the best of health. I was exhausted. You… I…” Gale’s body shudders and he breaks eye contact with you for a moment before returning to yours. His brown irises are swallowed by black pupils and you feel your lips part. The world seems to slow. His gaze is overwhelming and his tone is one you’ve never heard from him. 

“I killed you. I watched you evaporate before my eyes.” You tense and Gale quickly continues, sensing your discomfort, “The spell was meant for Raphael and you… you stepped between us because you were trying to help. You were trying to help me.” You feel a weight crash down upon you and all at once Gale’s hands are on your cheeks and you feel your hands raise to cover his. Gale’s eyes are misty and his touch ignites you. “It wasn’t real, but I felt it forcefully. I have put you in such danger, harmed you more than I can forgive myself for, and the idea of that nightmare ever becoming a reality was too much to bear. A world without you… at my own hand… that’s no world worth being part of. I am ashamed at what I was willing to give up in pursuit of vain hubris. I am so, so sorry. More than words can express. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and still I ask for it. I will do everything in my power for the rest of this mortal life and beyond to be the man you saw in me from the beginning. I love you.” 

You drink in his words and feel his hot breath against your lips, your vision blurred by how close your faces are. Your mind stills and you say, “I think we have work to do,” you see Gale’s shame for a moment, before you say, “but I’m willing to let you try.” 

You take a breath and Gale grins, tilting your head as if wanting a kiss, “May I?” Your lips part and you nod. When Gale kisses you it’s as if it would be the last. As if he had never had the opportunity before. As if you had died and this was just a dream. Gale kisses you in such a way you cannot doubt the sincerity of his intentions and you allow yourself to melt into him. 

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 brainrot #gale #god gale #bg3 gale #gale x tav #baldur's gate 3

[starrystrawb]

See now: Water Mother Nature. Water has been around as long as the planet has been. She will be here long after we are all gone. She is has seen it all and will witness everything that is to come. She is the depths of the Marianas trench, she has been the shallows of a back-yard creek.

On to the eco-tips!

1. A lot of phone cases are made of plastic. Even ones made of recycled plastic are well... plastic. But worry not friends! Some phone case companies take old cases and recycle them for you! Castify is one of them, and one that I regularly send my old cases to! To get an address to send the old cases to, email them on their website. Pack those old cases up, and ship them off to be reused! They even offer a discount on orders for sending them the old cases, and they take any brand!

2. Speaking of phone cases, Pela is a phone case company that makes compostable phone cases! They are made from plant material and are actually pretty cute. They are a bit pricey, so they're not for everyone. Other companies have similar cases that are made of plants, made from recycled plastics, or made in a sustainable and eco-friendly manner! Re-Castify is castify's version of this, ecoblvd also makes phone cases, and otterbox has a series called Core. And of course, keeping one phone case for a long time and reusing it over and over is always great!

3. Phone cases usually go on phones, so lets talk about those little guys! It feels like every year, the phone you just got is slowing down, dying faster, and is rapidly collecting more and more issues. Technology is always advancing, which is great! But a lot of the components in electronics end up being tossed in the trash. If you have things like old phones or tablets laying around, and you're unsure what to do with them, worry not! Research your options! Some places like zoos, tech shops, or second hand shops might have tech recycling programs. And of course, selling to a shop that refurbishes and sells tech is always an option. A lot of phone companies and providers have started offering trade ins! Don't feel guilty for upgrading, trade in, sell, or recycle your old phones, tablets, and other electronics!

4. Moving on from tech, lets talk about paper! Did you know you can make your own paper? It was a pretty popular trend in 2020-2022. You do need some supplies, like a blender, a picture frame, some sort of netting, and usually glue or tacks of some kind. But I've done it before, and it's actually pretty fun! You can even sprinkle seeds into it to make a card that you can plant! Google and youtube have some very handy and easy to follow tutorials!

5. Talk to people! Online, in person, over the phone. Everywhere! Share eco-tips (like we're doing here), talk about legislation, organize groups, everything! Keep each other moving and keep spreading information and helping others. It is so important to involve your friends, family, and community in eco-friendly living! We all share the planet, friends!

Base

#mlp #mlp fim #my little pony #friendship is magic #water #digital art #drawing #procreate #base edit #base art #earth month #earth day #mother nature

[chicuahtliteotl]

Notes as an indigenous farmer for other farmers, gardeners, looking to seek to perform land remediation, restorative agroforestry, etc.

First, look up historical weather and current weather zoning, climate change is real, the area may no longer be suitable for specific plants anymore.

Consider invasive plants, animals, worms(yes like bees there are invasive worms) , etc

Assess potential soil and water pollution sources then create a remediation plan depending on time and feasibility.

Work with the land, not against it, this is pretty simple, if you plan to create rain collecting channels for your small garden, then it's to slope where the land slopes for you.

Composting is great but you also need to understand microbial/fungal symbiosis and creating microbiomes that allow for effective compost break down.

You can buy cheap microbial solutions that are epa or environmental sound, back reference any microbial cultures with academic papers, if unsure how to do the research then it is fine with a variety as this simulates closely to nature.

Look into outdoor mushroom farming, this is pretty common in my community in our Chināmitl /mīlpan system, it's not as hard as most resources online will tell you, especially if you're sticking with native to your area mushrooms.

Avoid commercial strains for cultures especially if they're non native as this can lead to potential invasives.

Yes fungus /mushrooms can be invasive, please never put golden oyster outside.

You can also buy microremediating solutions for soil/water contamination.

Many universities offer resources to help find soil or water testing companies for accessible to no costs even, this is useful if you want to assess variety of conditions.

Additionally microbe /fungal based solutions are most used in our community as it helps reduced overall pests and diseases to our plants.

If you have tons of untreated wood ash (burn untreated wood, get wood ash) this is useful for variety of things, as this ties into controlled burning, true slash and burn, etc. Essentially nutrients are allowed to disperse back in the ground, be aware of heavy metal and other contamination considerations as always.

Indigenous seed banks do exist for non indigenous people, also look into seed conservation projects and seed banks that look to preserve seed lineages. While heirloom is nifty, it does only go so far back around an early colonial era.

#indigenous #Farmer #Gardening #Permaculture #Land back