#Mountain Yellow Poppies

[marmarclipart]

Mountain Yellow Poppies

Watercolor Artwork: “Mountain Yellow Poppies”This watercolor work beautifully captures the intricate details and vibrant hues of the Mountain Yellow Poppy. Native to high altitude rocky landscapes, these resilient flowers embody both fragility and resilience, with their luminous yellow petals standing out like lanterns against the rugged mountain backdrop. Able to bloom even in challenging…

Look at other watercolor artwork "Yellow Mountain Poppies"

[croc-odette]

Buy some wildflower seed packets but forget them in a drawer until November bc it’s blooming season not planting season!

[deklo]

WAA!! i tried to take a nice photo of the hill by my house but i didn’t notice the electrical lines :/

[monopoly-mountain-requests]

You take a look at the paper called “code words.” There are some doodles in what looks like the language on an enchanting table.

CODE WORDS

Here’s a list of the tags we use, and what they mean!

🪶falling feathers ~Mod Grian (posts made by Mod Grian)

💚blazing eyes ~Mod Scar (posts made by Mod Scar)

🌵welcome to monopoly mountain ~interactive intro (all of the posts in our intro!)

🏜thanks for the shoes! ~request taken (A request that’s been taken and will be completed soon!)

🏜you may take the enchanter ~completed request (A request that’s been completed and posted!)

🏜in the red ~denied request (A request we won’t be taking)

🏜yellow stares ~clarification needed (A request we have a few questions for or need clarification on)

🏜+10 reputation points ~promos (promotions for other kin help blogs!)

🏜desert spring ~skipped queue (A finished request posted early, instead of with the queue)

🏜red winter is coming ~queue (A finished request posted with the queue)

🏜cactus ring ramblings ~rambles (Posts from the mods discussing pretty much anything that isn’t a request)

🏜poppies and lilacs ~feedback (feedback from our lovely requesters!)

🏜️making allies ~canon calls (messages searching for people the requester knew in source)

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[otomegamesandme]

Otome/Amare Games for Pride 2024 Edition

Hey hey, I'm back with more pride rec games in the realm of otome/amare/dating sims! I haven't done a rec list in a hot minute, and I'm glad I finally have time to make another one! I have two other lists similar in theme, which I'll link in a reblog! With that said, here's some more recommendations!

Heart Fragment

Platform: PC [Steam and Itch.io]

Price: Book one is free, Book two is 2.99 USD

I know I posted this in my 'otome/amare games where you can get the girl' post, but I want to shout it out again because I love it a lot. This is a soft sci-fi/mystery/paranormal genre blend where you follow Xani (renamable and gender selectable) as they learn about themselves, their strange powers, and the mystery around their mother. I love this game so much, mostly because of how much I related to the main character as well as the love interests. It's a solid game, and one I replay often.

Obscura the Dark Descent Chapter 1

Platform: PC [Steam and Itch.io]

Price: Chapter 1 is free

This is still in development and pretty popular in the indie space, but I thought I'd shout it out just in case. I love the atmosphere of this game, and I like the concept of it. You're dying so you go into the mountain where everyone wears masks, searching for a cure. The feeling of it is so oppressive and all the love interests feel really unique. I also love the MC in this, they're so funny to me.

Pitstop in Purgatory

Platform: PC [Steam and Itch.io]

Price: 4.99 USD

A weirdly comforting game about death. You play as a young woman named Astrid who died, but has no memories of it. As you interact with those also stuck in purgatory, those memories start coming back to her. I think the art style in this really helps with the feeling of this, and it's one of those games to kickback to over the weekend.

Titan Arum

Platform: PC [Itch.io]

Price: Free

I was so obsessed with this when it first came out. You're a failed writing whose back in your childhood home trying to finish a manuscript. However, weird things keep happening, and you're sanity might just be slipping. The art, the atmosphere, the references to the King in Yellow? 10/10. The fact this was made in ten days just makes it all the more impressive and I highly recommend it.

Breathless Winds

Platform: PC [Steam and Itch.io]

Price: 12.00 USD

Poppy is a closeted trans woman who has just recovered from a boating accident. As she readjusts to life again, she has to find a way to save her home, and discover who she is and who she wants to be. The full game just came out a few days ago from posting this, so I've only played the demo but I loved it so much and I'm so excited to play the full game the second I get a chance. This is one of the only games where the main protagonist is a canon trans woman (if you know more dating sims like this please let me know lol), and the demo was lovely as well.

We're Women, After All

Platform: PC [Itch.io]

Price: Free

I'm cheating with this one because it's not in the realm of dating sims but shhh. I loved this game so much I had to shout it out. This is a sapphic horror game about a woman wanting to escape from an oppressive family and her conversation with the mermaid she loves. It's short, so I don't want to spoil it, but it was such a great experience. I enjoyed the characters and writing, and the art was stunning.

[talonabraxas]

"The Kiss" by Artus Scheiner Hymn to Pan by John Keats "O thou, whose mighty palace roof doth hang From jagged trunks, and overshadoweth Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness; Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken; And through whole solemn hours dost sit, and hearken The dreary melody of bedded reeds-- In desolate places, where dank moisture breeds The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth; Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx--do thou now, By thy love's milky brow! By all the trembling mazes that she ran, Hear us, great Pan! "O thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet, turtles Passion their voices cooingly 'mong myrtles, What time thou wanderest at eventide Through sunny meadows, that outskirt the side Of thine enmossed realms: O thou, to whom Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom Their ripen'd fruitage; yellow girted bees Their golden honeycombs; our village leas Their fairest blossom'd beans and poppied corn; The chuckling linnet its five young unborn, To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries Their summer coolness; pent up butterflies Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year All its completions--be quickly near, By every wind that nods the mountain pine, O forester divine! "Thou, to whom every faun and satyr flies For willing service; whether to surprise The squatted hare while in half sleeping fit; Or upward ragged precipices flit To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw; Or by mysterious enticement draw Bewildered shepherd to their path again; Or to tread breathless round the frothy main, And gather up all fancifullest shells For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells, And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping; Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping, The while they pelt each other on the crown With silvery oak apples, and fir cones brown-- By all the echoes that about thee ring, Hear us, O satyr king! "O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears, While ever and anon to his shorn peers A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn, When snouted wild-boars routing tender corn Anger our huntsmen: breather round our farms, To keep off mildews, and all weather harms. Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds, That come a swooning over hollow grounds, And wither drearily on barren moors: Dread opener of the mysterious doors Leading to universal knowledge--see, Great son of Dryope, The many that are come to pay their vows With leaves about their brows! "Be still the unimaginable lodge For solitary thinkings; such as dodge Conception to the very bourne of heaven, Then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven, That spreading in this dull and clodded earth Gives it a touch ethereal--a new birth: Be still a symbol of immensity; A firmament reflected in a sea; An element filling the space between, An unknown--but no more: we humbly screen With uplift hands our foreheads, lowly bending, And giving out a shout most heaven rending, Conjure thee to receive our humble Paean, Upon thy Mount Lycean!"

[wifetomegatron]

countries and cities i've been to that i think the lost light crew will enjoy (vol. i)

i think ratchet would like switzerland. snowy alps, open green fields where purple and yellow poppies littered across the grass dance with the northern wind. he enjoys the secluded valleys and will spend hours just driving past the topaz lakes. he likes the quiet of it all, the serenity, the closure. he makes drift join him in their holoforms to walk, taking in the traditional log houses and brightly-colored buildings, shops, and restaurants surrounded by lush woodlands, upland meadows, and snow-capped cliffs. grindelwald because drift is fascinated by humans and their winter sports, ascona for when it gets warmer and the boats are out by the docks. in a first contact au, ratchet would most likely end up working in either zurich or geneva, working closely with earth's international bodies like the united nations to facilitate human-cybertronian relations. i can also see the medic crew stationed there as well; running the first cybertronian medical facility on earth.

drift, predictably, would prefer japan more. osaka and tokyo for its entertainment, where he and rodimus would spend hours exploring the nightlife in their disguises. at times, they would even go as their alt-modes. rodimus gets ahead of himself with all the attention he's getting. he'd travel through many prefectures, driving past the borders to clear his head — perks of having a conjunx that works closely with human organizations is that he gets exempted from all the paperwork — but always end up somewhere private, tranquil. the shrines, the forests, the mountains — he would even be bold enough to dream of settling down there. one time ratchet flew in to visit him at a resort by the foot of mount fuji, and his husband was neck-deep inside the natural saunas. content and purring, sinking into recharge against the stones.

i have a feeling brainstorm and skids would stir up trouble somewhere in the netherlands. most likely in the infamous lecture halls of leiden university, where great minds like descartes and rembrandt once walked in. they'd hate the weather, where the sun becomes optional the moment it hits autumn (even before, apparently.) the roads are small, so they'd have difficulty navigating at first, nearly driving into a canal because of how fast people bike. direct, with just the right amount of witty, the pair are glad to enjoy the company of dutchies without having to rely on their (human) food because nothing that they've seen looks appealing or digestible. getaway is also there, most likely in amsterdam, where his holoform is most likely to get cornered in an alley and have his bike stolen.

nautica would love the sea, the vast, great open oceans of southeast asia would be the perfect place for her. ever the adventurer, she would drag riptide and velocity with her to explore the islands of the philippines & indonesia. where she'd learn how to dive and swim with the animals past the coral reefs. sweet girl nearly cried when she saw a group of whale sharks. anode and lug are content sitting by the beach, sipping on their latest invention — coconut-infused energon. bali is where i imagine the girls ( and riptide ) would go for a nice getaway. the people are all smiles, warm and friendly, and passionate about their culture. even if the two are more inclined towards the sciences, the flourishing art and spirituality of the balinese people made them feel at home again. ( if not nostalgic for caminus.)

i know rodimus is living his life in spain. maybe it won't be his designated home on earth. but with the lost light stationed in geneva, where ratchet, minimus, and megatron are with the rest of the united nations council ( because there is no way they can park the ship anywhere in the new york branch ), barcelona was his first solo trip on earth without straying too far from his co-captain's watchful eye. it was the peak of summer and there he was under the sun. the people were only initially surprised, but then again, they'd probably seen weirder things than a sixty-foot-tall robot asking them if he could join their game of volley by the beach. he bumps into krok and his rag-tag team — who's also trying to get away from minimus — so that's how he and misfire end up nearly drowning after a competitive game of water tag.

[lime-ether]

I'm curious... What would Ivy and the rest of the group look like in Ukrainian costumes? I've seen several of them and they are just plain GORGEOUS!

Okay , You know how to make me happy.. 💅💅💅💅

DPG IN UKRAINIAN CLOTHES

So When I was drawing them... I wasn't just sitting there mindlessly drawing them in the same embroidered shirts....

So, Below I have written down some of my decisions regarding the costumes, so if anyone is interested...

It may be a little cursed but I tried-

Ivy would rather have a Hutsul style suit. This is a region associated with the Carpathians and Molfarism, the ancient art of magic and healing. Her image has elements that echo the role of the mole: bright colors (red, yellow), a floral wreath on her head with colored ribbons, symbolizing a connection with nature, and embroidered patterns on her clothes, which were often used to protect against evil forces. Her style reflects the power and wisdom associated with molfaroks, who according to legend could control the elements and predict the future. This type of clothing, particularly the upper cloak and neck ornaments, give her a majestic appearance, which may allude to her status as a wise woman or shaman in Ukrainian mythology.

For shi..

The image of Shi Inspired by the clothes of central Ukraine or Poltava, also echoes the image of the Mavka - the spirit of the forest and a natural entity from Ukrainian mythology. Her tenderness, lightness, and clothes convey ephemerality and magic, which is associated with nature, beauty and mystery. Her clothes emphasize the traditional image of mavoks as spirits, which are both beautiful and sometimes strong. Her gaze and general style of dress suggest tenderness and a certain melancholy often associated with these mythical creatures, which can be both benevolent and dangerous.

For Catri is

Catri costume also has the style of the Hutsul region. Hutsul costumes often clear geometric patterns and contrasting colors like black with red or white, for her I chose a poppy wreath.

The poppy is traditionally associated with the memory of the dead, to honor the memory of fallen soldiers or victims of various disasters.

In addition, the poppy symbolizes calm, peace and eternal rest. In folk beliefs, the poppy is also considered a talisman that protects against evil spirits.

For Dravolo

Her image is more suitable for the Transcarpathian region, where folk costumes are distinguished by a large number of colors and multi-layeredness. Transcarpathian costumes often contain green, red and yellow colors combined with embroidery and decorations. Dravolo also holds Trimba Trimbita is a traditional Ukrainian wind musical instrument in the shape of a long wooden horn. It is made of wood, often fir or pine, and can be up to several meters long. Trimbita is used mainly in the mountainous regions of Ukraine, in particular in the Carpathians. This instrument produces a loud, shrill sound and is usually used to announce various events such as holidays, weddings or gatherings. The trimbita is also an important element of Hutsul culture and is often used in folk music, and its sound is associated with nature and the traditional life of mountain regions.

For ali...

His positive, bright nature and voluminous forms of flowers suggest the Poltava region, where costumes are known for their exquisite patterns and delicate colors. The Poltava style of embroidery usually has floral motifs with an emphasis on pink, red and white colors. I also gave him a mask that reminds me of myself... Motanku doll is a traditional Ukrainian folk toy made from natural materials such as straw, threads and cloth. It is a symbol of family comfort, goodness and protection. Motanka usually do not have a face, as it is believed that this allows them to be universal and not be attached to specific features. The patterns on his mask are red diamonds and flowers. Red color in this context is associated with love, passion and protection, rhombuses are associated with charms that protect against negativity.

And Den just in White embroidered shirt ;)

[rederiswrites]

Got so much work done in the front garden today--wish I'd taken pictures but I always wait until "everything's perfect" hahaaa right. Mostly, I'm pulling out carts full of chickweed and hairy bittercress and purple deadnettle (all great plants, just not what I'm growing there), and as I go, I put things into the gaps I create. Today I planted a couple of rockfoil (commercial photo):

three yellow and orange dahlias, like so:

a couple of daylilies I got on sale last year and only finally am getting in, and some adorable violas. In previous days, I've gotten in more pansies and violas, a new rosemary, purple and bicolor sage, parsley, more daylilies, and salvia.

And everywhere I finished weeding and planting and thus will be leaving alone for at least a month, I chaotically surface-sewed four different varieties of poppy, some snapdragons, and a pack of chamomile.

That's also how I'm gonna deal with cilantro this year, and we'll see how that goes. I got quite a number of volunteer cilantro last year from where it inevitably went to seed. So this year I'm just gonna periodically throw some seed at the dirt, like, literally.

It's tremendously gratifying to see things coming back from last year's efforts. Several varieties of bee balm, the ever-spreading lemon balm, echinacea and black eyed susans, anise hyssop, comfrey, yet more daylily, asiatic lily, irises including my precious black varieties from my friend who is gone, coreopsis and marguerite for dyes, chives, thyme, winter savory, valerian, bronze fennel, tons of yarrow...

And then the rain came across the mountains and watered it all in for me.

[roetrolls]

Candy and Crocuses

“Cotton candy. A big, big pile of cotton candy. The blue and pink kind.”

Asleep but not deeply, Nymira’s ear twitches in response to her brother’s whispers, held aloft between his thumb and forefinger as he tries desperately to drill the thought into her subconscious.

“Cotton candy,” Somnia whispers again, “just a big huge mountain of cotton candy.”

“I’ll give you an easy one, Dreamer. You’ve done it before.”

Her ear twitches again, this time as if to flick away the venomous honey that drips from the hypnotic voice above her. She feels a vague sense of movement, not her own, and the image of a vulture drifts to mind. She is used to prayer.

She feels like prey.

“Cotton candy! Really, really sweet. Lots and lots of cotton candy.”

“A crocus.”

“Cotton candy!”

“Six petals, pointed up.”

“All stringy and soft and fluffy.”

“Purple. Yellow center.”

“Pink and blue!”

“Picture a crocus.”

Nymira opens her eyes to find Somnia staring at her, black voids shining expectantly. Blinking off her sleep, she turns a droopy gaze to her hands, staring curiously at her tiny palms and the short, stubby fingers that curl towards them.

“Did it work?” he asks excitedly. “Did you see a crocus?”

Confusion muddles the godling’s features. She raises her head to look once more at her brother’s eager face and the purple flower that adorns it, brilliant color shimmering faintly in the low light of her bedroom.

“Cro…cus?” She mumbles softly, the word oddly intrusive on her tongue. 

“Six petals,” he reminds her, “pink and blue.”

Her attention drifts back to her hands, cupped gently around the flower she has summoned. Its golden center stares back, reaching out as if to touch her.

“Yes!” Somnia shouts, laughter bubbling from his chest. He slips his hands beneath her arms and pulls her out of bed, swinging the young goddess in a circle before hefting both of them into the small reading nook set into her bedroom wall. 

She stares at his face, at the petals where his eyes should be, and struggles to make sense of him.

Ignorant to her befuddlement, her brother plucks the flower from her palms and splits it in two, pausing to compare the size of the pieces before holding the smaller of them out to her.

“‘Cause you’re littler,” he explains as she takes her share.

“For Cy?”

He frowns. “No, just for us. He can have some next time, okay?”

“Not sharing?”

“This one’s special for us. We’ll share next time.”

“This time just Poppy?”

“Both of us! We’ll try it on three. Do you wanna count to three with me?”

Nymira flexes one small hand, fingers splayed awkwardly with muscles she is still learning to use. She can count to three. She’s good at counting.

“Six petals. Ready? One, two…”

“What is that?”

A sharp voice jolts Nymira to her senses, eyes snapping open with a start. Persep looms over her with a frigid scowl, his shoulders tight with annoyance. The godling furrows her brow, too disoriented to be intimidated, and turns her gaze to the wispy bundle in her hands.

“It’s…cotton candy.” 

“Cotton candy,” the purpleblood echoes, lips contorting into a snarl.

“Somnia likes it.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Nymira blinks softly, vision still trained on her palms. With two slender fingers, she lifts the morsel and turns it in front of her face, expression somewhat distant. Finally, she turns her attention back to Persep and holds it out, eyes large and innocent.

“Would you like some?”

[marmarclipart]

Floral Watercolor painting. Yellow Mountain Poppies.

Yellow Mountain Poppies: Floral Watercolor paintingTransport yourself into the realm of nature through this watercolor depiction of yellow mountain poppies, painted after a summer stroll in the breathtaking Trentino Alto Adige region. I drew inspiration from the resilience of these delicate flowers, thriving amidst rugged terrain and enduring various winds. My watercolor piece aims to convey…

Other floral watercolor of Yellow Mountain Poppies

[katiajewelbox]

As a plant biologist, I pride myself on knowing my plants’ scientific names. However, until recently there was one enigmatic flower I didn’t know the name of, despite having seen it in the garden since childhood.

This papery orange poppy with silvery green leaves was simply known as a “Danish poppy” since my parents brought the original seeds or plants from an old farm in Denmark where it grew as a semi-wild ornamental among the cobblestones. In my numerous visits to public and private gardens in the UK, I never saw a poppy quite like our “Danish poppy” at home.

I set out to discover the identity of this familiar yet mysterious flower. Although plant ID apps are trendy, I am sceptical since they often misidentify plants. I prefer to use my critical thinking with key words in a web search engine. These Key words are the general plant type (for example “poppy”) along with colour and geographic location as well as any other useful information such as whether the plant is domesticated or wild. I began by inspecting the search result’s image section to see if any of the photos resembled the unknown plant, and then I compared images to narrow down the probable species.

To confirm the identity, I did a second web search with the possible scientific name and scrutinised the image results. This process led me to find the correct scientific name of our poppies.

Our “Danish poppy” is known to gardeners as an ��Iceland Poppy” (Papaver nudicale). This short-lived perennial poppy species is native to subarctic habitats in North America, Northern Asia, the mountains of Central Asia, and temperate regions of China but it does not naturally occur in Iceland or the rest of Europe.

Iceland Poppies are hardy and low maintenance, but they do not transplant well and thrive when grown from seed in well-drained soil with full sun. That’s why our “Danish Poppies” are often growing in odd places like the corner of a vegetable bed or cracks in the walkways. The delicate orange colour is genetically recessive and therefore rarer compared to the more common white and yellow flower colours.

Iceland Poppies contain an unusual flavoalkaloid pigment called nudicalin that retains its yellow hue even when the pH shifts between acidic and basic. Other alkaloids extracted from this plant have potential as anti-inflammatory medicine.

There may be botanical surprises hiding in your own garden, all it takes is curiosity and observation to discover them!

[violetsiren90]

Stolen Tides

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: Drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; old flames rekindled, angst and fluff

Summary: Time is the great force - it changes everything. The ebb and flow of the tide. The fullness of the moon. It carves mountains, and quiets storms...but it stands powerless in the face of love.

Content Warnings: PG-13, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; nudity, implied sex, cooking and eating food, mention of minor character death, kissing, cuddling, working through feelings, tears are shed (it's them, so, of course, lol)

Author's note: I literally just posted a poll asking which drabble I should write first, and their first meeting won (which I was stoked about), but then this popped into my head and I just wrote it. I wrote it while I was supposed to be submitting a project with a deadline, because, in the words of MYG, I'm bad boi. But...I had to. I gave them their ending because they deserved it. 💕 (If you've never read the one-shot this universe takes place in, I recommend starting there!)

And as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

*Stolen tide: Occurs when weather and wind conditions suppress the ebb of a flood tide and then the next high tide washes in bringing even higher levels.

    Your lids raised and dipped and raised again, like linens in a summer breeze, as your eyes came into focus. Soft late-morning light spilled through the window onto the golden-brown planks of the oaken floor. The western-facing window was open, and the thin curtains billowed inward with each puff of salty air cresting over the hill off the distant waves. Your eyes tracked a spider plant swaying from where its macrame harness was secured to a hook in the spackled ceiling. You shifted in the white sheets of the queen-size bed to glance around you. The room was small and minimally furnished, but everything within it seemed significant to its tenant. There was a little bookshelf propping up a guitar, and a roll-top desk bearing an open journal and coffee mug. On the other side was a nightstand with an antique lamp perched beside a book splayed open on its face and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. On the far end was a dresser with pretty little mother-of-pearl knobs topped with two potted succulents and an abstract of an albatross in flight, and the accordion door of a closet cracked open to reveal neatly stored clothes and shoes.

    You tossed yourself back against the pillows with a sigh, a smile spreading slowly across your face as images from the previous night developed in the morning light like Polaroid pictures. You reached out to brush a hand over the sheets where he had slept beside you, as naked as you were now. You'd awakened in the middle of the night to find that you'd taken all the covers and to see him, laying there on his stomach - his sweet little ass pale and perfectly bare in the moonlight. You chuckled and bit your lip, slipping out of bed to pull on panties and snatch a flannel from the closet and drape it over your body, pushing up the sleeves to bunch around your elbows. He had always worn his shirts too big, and it dipped down to your mid thighs as your legs carried you toward the scents of garlic and gochujang wafting down the hall. 

    The kitchen was as simple in its loveliness as the rest of the little house, pale yellow light pouring through the large windows over a vase of poppies on a table flanked by two chairs. And a man who used to be a boy was standing at the other end of the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes in a way that made you question if a single day had passed. Yoongi stood at the little stove in a white tee and grey sweats, his dark hair sticking up every which way and his face puffy from sleep. You had to press a hand to your lips to keep from giggling at his appearance, and when he glanced up you found yourself unable to conceal an amused and extremely endeared grin.

    “What?” he asked in sleepy suspicion, his brows up and knitted together as his lips dropped into a pout.

Thirty-two and as cute as he had ever been. You chuckled as you circled around his left, where you turned towards him and slipped your body between his and the stove. Wrapping your arms around his back as he looked down, you regarded him. The same. He looked just the same. His features were a bit more defined, the soft cheeks having sharpened at his cheekbones and jawline, and he was broader and thicker with longer hair that curled at the base of his neck. But his eyes with the dark lashes, his petal pink lips...the way they felt on you...he was the same. You lifted your face to place the gentlest kisses on every feature - the ones that had changed and the ones that hadn't. 

He let out a soft hum, his left arm slipping around your waist as he shifted you slightly to the side, prodding at the contents of the pan with the wooden spoon in his right hand.

“The food will burn,” he chided lightly.

But his eyes creased at the corners and his mouth seemed to hover on the verge of a smile. You twisted to glance at the pork belly fried rice before nestling yourself back into him, your head on his chest.

“Smells good,” you murmured into his shirt.

“Mm. It’s just leftovers,” he replied, in the warm, even tone that pierced your heart like a forgotten melody. 

You pressed back the tears that threatened to come. The moon had seen enough of those last night.

"You were always good at cooking, like your mom,” you sighed into his tee. 

He didn't reply, but he tucked his cheek against your head, his thumb dragging his shirt up and down your back in tiny tender motions. You held him and he held you, and the pork fat sizzled on the stove, and a wind chime tinkled outside the kitchen window, and far off and down the ocean broke against the rocks.

And then he slowly drew you away from his chest so that he could see your face, his eyes meeting yours with the soft wet glimmer of joy and sadness at once, like the soil after a rainfall - that damp warmth from which beautiful things grow - and you buried yourself there, like a seed dropped from the sky by a bird. Dropped on the side of a cliff by the sea.

    Between mouthfuls of fried rice and kimchi eggs, you told him about college. About your passion for your chosen career. About meeting a boy who wasn't him, who had asked you to be his wife. About how you had chosen a dress and sent out invitations and then said no. Yoongi nodded quietly, but didn't ask why. Then he told you about how his father had succumbed to pneumonia a few years ago, and his mother had moved back to Korea and remarried. You nodded and asked him why he stayed. He shrugged as he pushed his rice around his plate.

    "Want to see something?" he asked with a shy smile, as he dried his hands from washing a final dish.

You nodded, smiling when he took your hand to lead you out of the kitchen door and into the yard at the side of the little house. Ice plant and poppies sprang up among the rocks and sandy dirt, disrupted by a cobbled path leading to a periwinkle blue shed only half as large as the house behind you. Yoongi opened the door.

Inside was warm and the air aglow with little floating specks that caught the light, which you quickly realized, as you glanced around, were flecks of saw dust. It was a workshop. In reverent awe you took in the beautiful pieces crafted from oak, walnut, pine, and redwood. There was a bench, a coffee table, a mirror frame, cutting boards, a spice rack. In and amongst the tools and work surfaces, there were handmade treasures against the walls and stacked on shelves. You took a seat in a sanded-down rocking chair.

    "You made all this?" You asked in disbelief.

Yoongi shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats, casting proud but bashful eyes over the room.

    "I make them to order. Although, you did find the one thing in here that I started for myself."

You felt warmth fill your chest because you thought he looked a little proud. You swayed in the chair, tucking your legs up under you.

    "It's beautiful, Yoongi. All of it. You're incredibly talented."

    "You started it, you know," he said with a smile, still not meeting your eyes. You cocked your head to the side in question. "You gave me that whittling kit for my birthday."

He shuffled over to a workbench and took a small object in his hand. He approached you, holding it out, and you took it. You turned the little curved knife over in your hands, brushing your thumb over the faded little heart inscribed in pink paint. 

    "You wanted me to have something to do with my hands, so I would stop biting my nails," he replied, taking the knife back from you and regarding it with warm eyes as he set it aside.

    "You remember that?" You let out a laugh.

    "I remember everything," he said.

He said it like an oath...one you had once sworn. He was looking down at you, and suddenly you were on a little ledge under the stars, and he was pulling you into a kiss, and making love to you, and telling you to run and not look back. Yoongi, your Yoongi. You breathed his name, and he reached for your hands, pulling you up and against him as his lips found yours. He kissed you tenderly and fiercely. He kissed you all the way back to his bedroom where he laid you down in the soft white cotton and made up for lost time. 

    The sun made its way over hill and down into the western waters, and all the while you stayed wrapped in the sanctuary of each others' bodies, only leaving his bed twice - once to shower together and another time to share a bowl of bibim guksu and some tangerines from the tree in the yard. Now the moon's waning crescent peeped through the curtains to see you laying tangled in Yoongi's arms, his forehead pressed to yours, as he asked a question to which he didn't want the answer.

    "When are you leaving?" His voice was low and soft and deep, so resonant...but you could hear what it lacked, what he was holding back.

    "Why do I have to leave?" You murmured, tracing a place over his chest where your lips had once left a bruise.

The skin had healed long since, but not what laid beneath. Yoongi sighed through his nose, his breath tickling your chin and chest.

    "What does this place hold for you?" he asked, his voice strained, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw as his thumb brushed over your chin. "Just pain and sadness. You got out of here, you're free."

A tear slipped over the bridge of your nose and onto the pillow.

    "I might have left, but my heart never did," you whispered, your voice shaking as years of never forgetting filled the expanse of your chest. "And it never will," you murmured through a little sob.

You pushed yourself back so that you could see his beautiful watery brown eyes and wet cheeks as you asked him a question to which you already knew the answer.

    "Why didn't you leave?" Another tear slipped down his face as he looked at you. "Why, Yoongi? Why didn't you leave? Tell me, Yoongi. Say it. Why didn't you l-"

    His mouth was on yours, and he kissed you back into the sheets as your tears mingled. He kissed you and he kissed you and when his lips finally left yours by a centimeter he whispered his answer against them.

    The moon had seen him find you, and lose you. Now it saw you tell him you would never leave his side. 

    Some weeks later it sent you both off in a packed-up car (with a rocking chair strapped to the top), as it faded in the light of the rising sun, to start a new part - the best part - of the story of the boy and the girl on the cliffside...

...The part where they lived together, and in happiness, until the end of their days.

-Fin-

[project-sekai-facts]

any chance you happen to have a list of flowers in everyones 1st year birthday cards?

i just got these off the wiki so apologies if any of this is wrong

Virtual Singer

Miku: sunflowers, gentians, hibiscus, chinese milk-vetch (on her dress)

Rin & Len: pansies, lady slipper orchid (on blazer)

Luka: grape hyacinth, sagebrush buttercups, society garlic flowers

MEIKO: egyptian star cluster, moss roses

KAITO: hyacinths, snowflake flowers

Leo/need

Ichika: geraniums, creeping zinnias (also some small flowers I couldn't identify)

Saki: dogwood flowers, white clovers

Honami: gerberas, chocolate cosmos, multiflora rose

Shiho: magnolias, violets (on her accessories)

MORE MORE JUMP!

Minori: daisy fleabanes, scotch broom, blue milkweed

Haruka: yellow cosmos, spider flowers

Airi: star jasmines

Shizuku: strawberry begonias, blossoms (the wiki said this was firethorn but imo it looks closer to some sort of blossom. the leaves aren't the right shape)

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Kohane: persian buttercup/ranunculus, iceland poppies

An: larkspur, tickseed

Akito: elatior begonias, lemon flowers

Toya: persian buttercup/ranunculus, yuzu flower (on blazer), pansies, wisteria (in the background)

WonderlandsxShowtime

Tsukasa: yellow tulips, persian violets, peonies

Emu: sea asters, skunkvine, chrysanthemum (ogiku style)

Nene: bougainvilleas/paperflowers, sunflowers, prairie gentians

Rui: common vervains/verbena, astrantia/great masterwort, hypericum erectum (a type of St John's Wort native to Japan, China and Korea. It doesn't have a common name)

25-ji, Nightcord de.

Kanade: crocuses, winter daphne

Mafuyu: cape marguerite, japanese rowan flowers, and i believe plumeria rubra

Ena: mountain laurels, baby blue eyes

Mizuki: bottle gourd flower, st john's wort, garden balsams. i'm not sure what the flower in their hair is, possibly some sort of lily?

the flowers are mostly the same on the second set of cards, though some are changed (notably Len who now has different flowers to Rin), and a few others gain or lose a flower or two. Tsukasa has fuchsias, An has paperflowers, airi i think has blossom and ena i think has yellow lupins now and that's as far as my flower knowledge goes.

[xtruss]

The Last Flower At The Top of The World—and The Perilous Journey To Reach It

Scientists Journeyed to a Stretch of Gravel Off The Coast of Greenland—The Farthest North You Can Go and Still Walk on Land. These Photos Show What They Found There.

— By Sarah Gibbens | Photographs byJeff Kerby | May 08, 2024

An Arctic Poppy thrives on the Northern Coast of Greenland. Among the plant life in this region, these hardy Flowers are like Giants. Some, like this one, grow in clumps that protect themselves from harsh weather. Like a satellite dish, they will slowly turn to follow the sun. On an expedition to understand what lives at this latitude, an Arctic Poppy like this was found about 20 inches south of the World's Northernmost Plant.

At the top of the Earth, the northernmost stretch of land a person can stand on is Inuit Qeqertaat, also named Kaffeklubben Island by early 20th Century Danish Explorers. The region is a dark gray stretch of gravel on the northern coast of Greenland where land slowly gives way to frozen sea ice.

To find what lives amid these rocky soils, climate change researchers and National Geographic Explorers Brian Buma and Jeff Kerby and their team embarked on a journey to survey the region. There, they found a common species of moss (Tortula Mucronifolia), the world's northernmost plant, and a yellow and lime-green Arctic poppy (Papaver Radicatum), growing just a few inches south of the moss.

On the nearby mainland, Greenlandic archaeologist Aka Simonsen discovered a ring of roughly 700-Year-Old Inuit Stones, which may be the northernmost archaeological remains.

Growing in Extremes: The Northernmost Stretch of land in the World, Inuit Qeqertaat, sits off the coast of Johannes V. Jensen Land, a Peninsula in Far Northern Greenland. National Geographic Explorer Brian Buma traveled there to find the northernmost plant-a common moss—and the northernmost flower a few inches south-an Arctic poppy.

Rosemary Wardley, NGM Staff; Martin Gamache, National Geographic Society Sources: Jeff Kerby, Scott Polar Research Institute; Brian Buma, Environmental Defense Fund; SkySat imagery from July 13, 2023, Planet Labs PBC; ArcticDEM, Version 4.1

The research team left their own mark on the mainland coast, staking plots and recording the vegetation they contained to create a highly detailed digital map of the area they surveyed. Information collected from this trip will be the first data logs in what Buma and Kerby hope will be a long timeline of research in the far northern region.

Here, above the Arctic Circle, the planet is warming four times faster than anywhere else on Earth. Changes here will have ripple effects across the globe, which is why the team braved harsh conditions to find what lives on the edge.

The expedition team was led by climate scientist and National Geographic Explorer Brian Buma. The north coast of Greenland was used as a staging point while shuttling gear across sea ice to Inuit Qeqertaat (Kaffeklubben Island).

Brian Buma collected samples from different layers of this snow glacier to understand the unique properties of water in this rarely visited region. This part of the world is a polar desert, and precipitation is scant, so the samples in this glacier represent many years of snow.

From above, the northern coast of Inuit Qeqertaat—and thus the northernmost stretch of land on Earth—is visible. It was near this shoreline that the team found the edge of terrestrial life, including a common species of moss, officially the farthest north, and the northernmost flower on earth—found about 20 inches south of the moss. The small, gravelly island is about a mile north of mainland Greenland.

This is the northernmost flower on earth, a lone and somewhat ragged Arctic Poppy, sitting near the shoreline of Inuit Qeqertaat. Poppies dotted the northern edge, with a few purple mountain saxifrage (Saxifraga oppositifolia) only slightly farther up the slope. In the background, Brian Buma surveys various contenders for northernmost plant before a final survey determines this flower to be the official runner-up. Seen just behind the flower, a tuft of ‘Mucronate screw moss’ (Tortula mucronifolia) claims that title.

Identifying mosses and other tiny Arctic flora requires a hand lens and careful attention to detail. Up close, Brian Buma examines their adaptations to cold weather, such as small hairs coating a plant's exterior.

Aka Simonsen, a Greenlandic archeologist, prepares to leave camp with Brian Buma, just as the weather begins to turn. After just a few hours the northernmost island, the team left, intending to return the next day. The window to return quickly closed after a few days when bad weather turned into a storm that brought strong winds and heavy precipitation. The July storm dumped nearly a foot of snow and drifts reached several feet. Harsh conditions trapped the team at their base camp for a week.

Aka Simonsen measures a ring of large stones that may have been used to anchor a tent. The stones are roughly 700 years old and likely left by the Thule people. These artifacts were found on the mainland, near the team's base camp and could be the northernmost documented archeological site on Earth.

When the plane returning to retrieve the team landed, it got stuck in snow, and a makeshift runway had to be constructed by scooping snow with snow shoes. Gravel was placed by hand so the plane's tires wouldn't slip on ice or stick in snow during takeoff. Scientists who return to this northernmost region will be able to use the team's detailed digital map to chart how the ecosystem is changing as the planet warms.

[piink-u]

“I hate yellow.” Murmured Scar to no one, his back against the grass of a sunflower field – wasting his oh-so precious time.

He hated it; surely not because it tended to be his shortest life – once upon a time down a sand ravine, up in a lonely magic mountain, ending two heartbeats at the rhythm of an explosion. No, Scar hated yellow simply because it meant no more Grian.

It meant the end of a promise or, better yet, of a contract made of pity and not loyalty – never loyalty. It meant seeing from afar and never being quite able to reach, meant being scared of caring – once, twice, thrice. It meant inevitable blood-shed – inevitable red.

Here he was with a yellow sun to his front and his eyes squinting against its bright halo or maybe against the memory of his own sun – now, quite far for him to orbit. With the golden yellow of a clock at his right hand, the ticking never stopping.

“No place for sunflowers in-between poppies and lilacs.” Scar said through liar’s yellow teeth. “Not loyalty – never loyalty.”

Now they were all yellow.