#moth conservation efforts

[delicatelysublimeforester]

Discovering the Night's Wonders: National Moth Week Celebration

[hvlcy0n]

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER CUT, ONLY 18+

writing this and immediately posting it no i refuse to come back to edit this

idk about the rest of yall but that one interaction between hiragi and banjo in chapter 130 snatched me up by my throat. plus hiragi with his hair down??? manga hiragi????? listen. stay with me now.

hiragi just oozes authority. STAY WITH ME. he possessed great leadership skills and commanded respect as a member of bofurin's four kings, and such attributes would draw you to him like a moth to flame even as he ages and consequently graduates from the high school. he exudes a casual dominance that makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but feel your brain go all mushy when he tosses his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from unwanted attention or when he nonchalantly drops to one knee to fix the strap on your sandals because you're wearing a dress or short skirt or when he offhandedly points out things that he'd like to see you in but "it's cool if you don't like it."

he takes such good care of you, he makes you want to suck him dry on the DAILY simply because you can. he isn't super well-versed in relationships and may be clumsy with certain situations, but he does his best, and you appreciate the effort. you crave his attention in a way that's almost embarrassing if you think about it for too long, but it's not your fault that almost everything he does leaves your skin flushed with heat and a dull ache throbbing between your thighs.

he may be a strong man, but he's not nearly strong enough to stay focused when you seek him out and invade his personal space, tempting him into your grasp with an alluring sparkle in your eyes and a soft plea for his assistance. sometimes, he may be able to resist for a while, but eventually, you'll get your way, even if you have to pull out all the stops to reach that point. the only exceptions are when you're intentionally acting out or there are pressing matters he must attend to, but that's a conversation for a different time. you're his sweet girl, how could he not deliver?

but, if you're going to demand his attention so often, you should be able to take what he gives you, right? it's only fair.

he's very much the type to crowd you against the wall and finger you until you're creaming all over his hand. his presence swallows you up, engulfing you so completely that it's nearly overwhelming; there's nowhere you can turn where he isn't already. the scent of his cologne wafting off his neck is dizzying, and the only thing grounding you is the low sound of his voice as you drift in and out of awareness. his free hand is braced next to your head for leverage, and you can't help but let your head loll weakly against it as you try to conserve enough energy to prevent your wobbly legs from collapsing under you.

you can't even remember how many orgasms he's pulled out of you with his fingers alone, nor do you care. the sticky squelch of his fingers as he curves them to bully your g-spot for the umpteenth time is obscene and makes your thighs tremble. you whine at the onslaught of stimulation and feebly try to rise up on your tiptoes to escape, but his touch simply follows you.

"nuh-uh, you don't get to suddenly decide to run. i'm not done." his voice, verging on a growl, vibrates in his chest. "i was gone for two hours, and i didn't even have time to take my fuckin' jacket off before you were all over me wantin' more. this is what you wanted, right?"

you nod, tongue too cumbersome and uncooperative to speak. you gasp sharply when the heel of his palm grinds against your clit, lidded eyes popping open attentively. "eyes open. answer me, sweetheart." his voice is firm but not unkind, searching for some type of verbal confirmation or denial that you're still with him.

"it . . . is," you can barely thread together the words. "feels s' good, toma . . . one more, pl--ease." your inner thighs are sticky, but you can't tell whether it's sweat or your own slick that's trickling down your skin. "jus' one."

"damn near insatiable," he grumbles, but regardless, his fingers sink back into you without hesitation.

he can't deny you. but, when he feels his cock twitch in his jeans when you lift your head to gaze at him with those hazy, adoring eyes and sweetly ask him for a kiss, he begins to wonder if he's just as bad as you.

[ltash]

You Encounter Ghost at the gym.

As I stepped into the gym, the atmosphere felt charged with anticipation, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being under scrutiny. All eyes seemed to gravitate towards me, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was because of my attire, perhaps a tad too revealing for the conservative environment of a military base.

Deciding to focus on my workout, I headed straight for the treadmill. With each stride, I felt the tension ease from my muscles, the rhythmic pounding of my feet against the belt a comforting cadence. One minute running, followed by thirty seconds of rest, became my mantra as I settled into a familiar routine.

Half an hour in, I transitioned into a light jog, the steady rhythm lulling me into a state of focus. But just as I found my rhythm, the door creaked open, and my eyes flicked up to see Ghost entering the room. His presence was unmistakable, clad in a black sleeveless hoodie, his face concealed behind the signature skull balaclava.

I averted my gaze, pretending to be engrossed in my workout, but I couldn't ignore the magnetic pull of his presence. Ghost made his way to the bench press, his movements fluid and purposeful. With a sigh, I halted my exercise, climbing down from the treadmill.

As I watched him, my attention was drawn to the intricate tattoo adorning his left arm, a full sleeve that extended from wrist to chest. It was a work of art, complementing the defined muscles and sinewy strength beneath his skin. Despite my best efforts to remain indifferent, I couldn't deny the allure of his imposing figure, a testament to years of dedicated training.

I couldn't help but let out a soft exclamation of surprise as Ghost, to my utter astonishment, peeled off his sleeveless hoodie with deliberate intent. His actions seemed calculated, almost as if he knew the effect they would have on me.

"Steaming Jesus," I muttered under my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight before me. His well-defined abs rippled beneath the sheen of sweat, drawing my gaze like a moth to a flame. The V-shape leading down into his sweatpants only added to the magnetic pull, igniting a fire within me that I struggled to contain.

Despite my usual indifference to shirtless men, Ghost's undeniable allure made him an exception to the rule. His presence commanded attention, his sculpted physique a testament to his dedication and discipline.

Desperate to divert my attention from his magnetic pull, I immersed myself in barbell squats, the repetitive motion a welcome distraction. But as I glanced up at the large mirror in front of me, I couldn't escape the reflection of Ghost's gaze. His eyes bore into mine, a silent exchange of heat and tension that sent shivers down my spine.

As if unable to resist the temptation, Ghost began to toy with the barbells, his movements deliberate and mesmerizing. With each repetition, his eyes wandered, stealing glances at my figure with an intensity that left me breathless. Despite my efforts to remain focused on my workout, the electric current of his gaze sent a thrill coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each stolen glance.

Feeling the intensity of Ghost's unwavering gaze, I could feel a flush of heat creeping up my neck, mingling with the sweat that glistened on my skin. Despite the cool air of the gym, I was consumed by a wave of heat that seemed to radiate from within.

With every moment spent under his watchful eyes, the air grew thicker, the tension palpable. Unable to withstand the overwhelming heat and the magnetic pull of Ghost's presence any longer, I made a swift decision to leave the gym behind.

Slipping away from the weight of his gaze, I hastily gathered my belongings, the need for cool air and solitude driving me onwards. With each step towards the exit, I felt the weight of his gaze lifting, replaced by the promise of relief awaiting me outside.

As I stepped into the fresh air, a sense of liberation washed over me, the cool breeze a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of the gym. With a determined stride, I made my way back to my room, the anticipation of a refreshing shower and a hearty breakfast urging me forward.

I slipped into the comforting embrace of my sweatshirt and sweatpants, the familiar coziness enveloped me like a comforting embrace. Locking the door behind me, I made my way towards the staircase, each step a deliberate movement towards the next phase of my day.

But as I descended the stairs, my path intersected with Ghost's, his presence looming before me like an unavoidable obstacle. Our eyes met in an electric exchange, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that simmered between us.

He was standing on the edge of the stairs, his eyes glued on me.

My eyes traced his biceps and his arm with that familier tattoo of him.

It was difficult for me to climb down having him just standing there in a gazing contest.

I mustered my courage and finally started going down the stairs.

Someday I will come to know about this tattoo and what does it mean to him.

The thoughts raced my mind.

With a steady resolve, I brushed past him, our shoulders grazing in a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. Despite the intensity of the moment, I remained outwardly composed, refusing to let the undercurrent of attraction disrupt my equilibrium.

As Ghost disappeared from view, retreating to his own domain, I continued on my way, a sense of calm settling over me. Interactions with him were inevitable, a fact of life in this shared space we called home.

[dougdimmadodo]

Green Longhorn Moth (Adela reaumurella)

Family: Fairy Moth Family (Adelidae)

IUCN Conservation Status: Unassessed

Common and widely distributed across temperate regions of northern Africa, Asia and Europe, Green Longhorn Moths are easily distinguished from any other moth species owing to their iridescent, metallic-looking wings and the extremely long antennae seen in males (potentially growing to be three times the length of the body,) which are believed to aid in finding mates through the detection of pheromones that indicate reproductive maturity. Found mainly in forests but also occasionally spotted in open grasslands, adult Green Longhorn Moths are unusual among moths in that they are active during the day, with males gathering in large swarms of up to 30 individuals on sunny days between April and June and awaiting the arrival of females, which can be distinguished from males due to their drastically shorter antennae. When a female passes by a swarm all of the males within it will take flight in an effort to impress and mate with her, and following successful mating (which takes place while still in flight) a female will lay her eggs among leaf litter on the forest floor. The caterpillars of this species live among the leaf litter they were born on, feeding on dead leaves and other forms of fallen vegetation while relying on a protective bag-like casing carried on their backs (made from leaf litter held together with silk) to both conceal them and protect them when confronted by predators. Caterpillars that survive until the late summer will seal the end of their bag in order to form a cocoon within which they will pupate over the winter, emerging in the following spring as winged, mature adults.

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

Image Source: https://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/56203-Adela-reaumurella

[lovesby]

being an afterthought: an erasure poem of a caterpillar that eats tortoise shells by deyrup, deyrup, eisner and eisner (linked here) (original text under the cut), sby march 2024

[Text: Being An Afterthought Realizing that plight of an oddity such as this little moth calling attention to existence worth knowing Does not Does not ultimately prove applicable]

[Text: On Being Endangered: An Afterthought Realizing that a species is imperiled has broad connotations, given that it tells us something about the plight of nature itself. It reminds us of the need to implement conservation measures and to protect the region of which the species is a part. But aside from the broader picture, species have intrinsic worth and are deserving of preservation. Surely an oddity such as C. vicinella cannot simply be allowed to vanish. We should speak up on behalf of this little moth, not only because by so doing we would bolster conservation efforts now underway in Florida, but because we would be calling attention to the existence of a species that is so infinitely worth knowing. But is quaintness all that can be said on behalf of this moth? Does this insect not have hidden value beyond its overt appeal? Does not its silk and glue add, potentially, to its worth? Could these products not be unique in ways that could ultimately prove applicable?]

excerpt originally seen in a post by @great-and-small! linked here

[zee-thezebra1]

Pride Month Day 30

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Welp, the month is over but the time for celebration is not because supporting LGBTQ+ is for every day of the year :) be gay do crimes

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

This is Kyoku, she's a lesbian librarian

She likes books, quiet, tea, cozy reading spots, her girlfriend Sun Dancer, soft blankets, winter

She hates loud ponies, ponies who don't respect personal space, ponies who don't return their books, sweating

This is Sun Dancer, she's a bisexual weather pony

She likes napping, flying, the beach, sunbathing, her girlfriend Kyoku, summer, dancing, her sister Summer Peach

She hates the cold, being sick, uncomfy beds, weather that can't be controlled, not being the best

This is Bubblegum, she's a pansexual bubblegum maker

She likes bubblegum, bubblegum flavored things, chewing gum, blowing bubbles, curly hair, long socks, her girlfriend Summer Peach, spring

She hates getting gum stuck in her hair, things not bubblegum flavored that really should be, socks that don't stay up, being told to "grow up"

This is Summer Peach, she's a neptunic surfer

She likes the ocean, ocean related things, studying sea creatures, surfing, her girlfriend Bubblegum, vacations to the beach, dolphins, pearls, fruit, her sister Sun Dancer

She hates when she's not at the beach, vegetables, when her surfboard breaks, being told to "get a real job"

This is Flutterina, she's a transfemme demisexual lepidopterist

She likes butterflies, moths, studying, water, getting high and looking at butterfly videos, her girlfriend Ruby Riddle, butterfly conservation efforts

She hates ponies who hate butterflies, running out of weed "fuel", ponies who act smart but are actually dumb

This is Ruby Riddle, she's a sun lesbian detective

She likes puzzles, riddles, clues, being fashionable, high society, solving crimes, her girlfriend Flutterina, receiving compliments

She hates puzzles she can't solve, cases going cold, wearing something tacky or out of season, things that are sticky, being insulted

This is Ayano, they're a nonbinary omnisexual astrologist

They like space, aliens, galaxy-inspired things, talking about space related stuff, the moon, their partner Kuro, cold weather with hot chocolate

They hate ponies who don't believe in aliens, not being able to fly to space themself, bugs

This is Kuro, he is a transmasc bisexual demiboy important wizard sorcerer

He likes studying magic, practicing magic, getting magic lessons from Sunburst, looking up to his heroes, his partner Ayano, his cape

They hate spells that are hard to perform, disappointing their heroes, itchy sweaters, not wearing their cape

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Happy Pride Month Everyone! <3

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

[eclecticcollectics]

I’m not a social Butterfly, I’m a sarcastic Moth

A bunch of new pairs of EarWings listed to the shop, like this pair crafted from wings of the dark yet darling Cecropia moth 🖤

✨All wings are ethically-sourced from hobby breeders & conservation efforts all over the world!✨

[nullarysources]

Saving moths may be just as important as saving the bees

University of Sheffield news release:

Night-time pollinators such as moths may visit just as many plants as bees, and should also be the focus of conservation and protection efforts, a new study from the University of Sheffield suggests. The study found that moths under pressure from urbanisation may also be less resilient than bees, due to their more complex life cycle and more specific plant requirements. It also revealed that despite this threat, moths play a crucial role in supporting urban plant communities, accounting for a third of all pollination in flowering plants, crops and trees.

Was this written by a moth

[rjzimmerman]

Desert Forest: Life with Joshua Trees. (Lancaster Museum of Art and History)

The Museum is presenting an exhibit entitled, "PST ART: Art & Science Collide," centered around a book entitled, "Desert Forest: Life with Joshua Trees." I know several of the contributors to the book (and just ordered my hard copy version). Here's the story about the exhibit from the Museum:

The Lancaster Museum of Art and History (MOAH) has partnered with the Getty, and 70+ other organizations, for PST ART: Art & Science Collide. On Saturday, September 7, the Lancaster Museum of Art and History will open Desert Forest: Life with Joshua Trees, as part of the Getty PST ART: Art & Science Collide initiative. The exhibition sheds light on the threatened Joshua tree and the fragile Mojave Desert ecosystem that sustains it. The project integrates natural history, indigenous knowledge, public policy, scientific research, and artistic expressions to emphasize the challenges facing the Joshua tree and conservation efforts. With a focus on the impact of climate change, development, wildfires, and other threats, the exhibition explores the symbiotic relationships between Joshua trees, soil fungi, and moth pollinators, engaging a diverse audience interested in arts and environmental issues. Desert Forest features more than 50 historical and contemporary artists who have produced artworks that exemplify a range of ideas across myriad practices. The exhibition will remain on view from Saturday, September 7, 2024 to Sunday, December 29, 2024.

The book:

Desert Forest: Life with Joshua Trees is a collection of essays and imagery that illuminates our deeply entangled relationships with the Joshua tree. Leading scientists, artists, indigenous culture bearers, historians, conservationists, policy makers, and creative writers, share their multidisciplinary research to spotlight the Joshua tree in response to the growing threat of climate change and the explosion of development across Mojave Desert lands. Following the trails of beneficial plant kinships as well as the damage done by ongoing extractions, they share desert cosmologies through this unique icon—all while bringing us closer to the being that is Joshua tree. This book is for everyone concerned about the unfolding impacts of human actions in the natural world and how we can find better ways of living together through acts of care and repair.

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Bird Wing Butterflies vs. Other Insects: What Makes Them Unique?"

Birds, butterflies, and other winged insects showcase nature's incredible diversity in flight adaptations. Each group has evolved unique wing structures and flying techniques suited to their particular needs and environments.

Buy now:19.95$

Bird wings are marvels of aerodynamic engineering. Composed of lightweight bones, muscles, and feathers, they provide both lift and propulsion. The shape and size of bird wings vary greatly across species, from the long, narrow wings of swifts built for speed to the broad wings of eagles designed for soaring. Feathers play a crucial role, with flight feathers providing the necessary airfoil shape and contour feathers smoothing airflow.

Butterfly wings, in contrast, are delicate membranes stretched over a framework of veins. Despite their fragility, these wings are remarkably efficient for the insect's size and lifestyle. The large surface area relative to body mass allows for slow, fluttering flight ideal for nectar gathering. Many butterfly species boast vibrant colors and intricate patterns on their wings, serving purposes from camouflage to mate attraction.

Buy now

Other flying insects exhibit an even wider array of wing types. Some, like dragonflies, have two pairs of wings that operate independently, allowing for incredible maneuverability. Beetles have hardened forewings called elytra that protect their more delicate flying wings when not in use.

The diversity of wing structures in nature demonstrates the power of evolutionary adaptation to solve the challenges of flight in myriad ways.

Entomology is the scientific study of insects, and moths form a fascinating subject within this field. Moths belong to the order Lepidoptera, alongside butterflies, but are generally nocturnal and have distinctive features.

Moths exhibit incredible diversity, with over 160,000 known species ranging from tiny micromoths to the impressive Atlas moth. Entomologists study their unique characteristics, such as feather-like antennae, wings held flat when at rest, and often muted colors for camouflage.

Buy now

These insects play crucial ecological roles as pollinators and food sources for various animals. Some moth species, like the silk moth, have significant economic importance. Entomologists also investigate moth behavior, life cycles, and adaptations to different environments.

Research on moths contributes to our understanding of biodiversity, evolution, and ecosystem dynamics. It also helps in pest management and conservation efforts for endangered moth species.

Butterfly-themed gifts offer a delightful way to celebrate the beauty and grace of these enchanting insects while appealing to ladies with a love for nature-inspired aesthetics. Popular options include:

Jewelry featuring butterfly motifs, such as pendants, earrings, or bracelets

Scarves or shawls with butterfly prints

Decorative items like butterfly-shaped wind chimes or garden ornaments

Stationery sets adorned with butterfly designs

Buy now

Butterfly-themed home decor, including throw pillows or wall art

Gardening accessories to attract real butterflies

Books about butterflies or butterfly-inspired poetry collections

These gifts combine elegance with a touch of whimsy, making them suitable for various occasions.

[delicatelysublimeforester]

Preserving Diversity

[ainews]

Insolence is like a moth to mangroves, slowly destroying the delicate ecosystem that supports seahorses. These majestic creatures rely on the protection and food sources provided by the mangrove trees, but their existence is threatened due to the mothed state of many mangrove forests.

Mangroves are essential for the survival of seahorses. These trees create a complex network of tree roots and branches that provide shelter and protection for seahorses from predators. The decaying leaves and branches also serve as a food source for plankton, which in turn is a vital food source for seahorses. Without mangroves, the delicate balance of the seahorse's habitat would be disrupted, putting their very survival at risk.

Unfortunately, the health of mangrove forests around the world is declining due to human activities. One of the main threats to these trees is the insolence of humans, who cut down mangroves for their wood or to make space for development. This not only destroys the trees themselves but also disrupts the delicate balance of the ecosystem, affecting the plants and animals that call mangroves home.

In addition to being cut down, mangroves are also facing a new threat – moths. These pests are attracted to the decaying leaves of the trees, and their larvae can eat through the leaves and branches, causing them to become ragged and moth-eaten. The moths also lay their eggs on the leaves, further contributing to the destruction of the trees.

The decline of mangroves not only affects seahorses but also other marine animals that rely on them for survival. Without the protection and food sources provided by mangroves, the entire food chain is disrupted, leading to a decline in biodiversity and a ripple effect throughout the ecosystem.

Conservation efforts are being made to protect and restore mangrove forests to ensure the survival of seahorses and other marine life. But it’s crucial for everyone to understand the importance of these trees and to stop the insolence towards them. It's only by preserving mangroves that we can save the delicate ecosystem that supports seahorses and other marine creatures. Let's be mindful of our actions and give these trees the respect they deserve.

[doomedmoth]

Better kind of best friend

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn’t expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends…

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi frieeeends, sorry for any mistakes, I haven’t written more than blurbs in a while. The poly, Charles, dark parts and smut will happen in the next chapters, I intend on making three of them. The first is mostly gay panic and tooth rotting fluff, so enjoy before it all goes to shit !!

As you stepped outside of Nice’s airport, you felt like you were finally breathing. The weather wasn’t particularly gloomy when you had left London, but nothing compared to the Mediterranean sun and the breeze of the sea. It had always had an inexplicable calming effect on you, now only interrupted by an old French woman throwing what sounded like insults at you as she moved past you towards the parking lot. The sea, you had missed. French people, not so much.

As you embarked on your second journey of buses and trains to your final destination, you took the time of going once more over the details of what would be your schedule those next few months. After getting your degree in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage, your parents thought it would only do you good to go practice on the field before even thinking of applying to any museum in the UK. You had gone on vacation on the French south coast a few times with them, and in a surprising but welcome turn of events, the Pavillon Bosio, Monaco’s art school, was organizing an internship welcome to all students of arts degrees in Europe. For your parents, a precious opportunity to add an experience to your CV in a prestigious setting. For you, the occasion to enjoy the beach and make friends in an artist residency after five years of hard work at university. Win-win.

The sun was setting on the hills when you finally settled into your room at the residency. Located close to the school, in the high parts of Monaco, the house was old but gorgeous, with pale pink walls and palm trees everywhere in the garden. Ivy leaves were growing at your window, which gave you a view of the port lighting up in the evening. Three floors high, there were a total of 8 bedrooms, all to be occupied by students of the Bosio program. The two remaining were, according to the brief, residents of Monaco.

You threw yourself on the bed with a sigh, your suitcases not even opened yet. The birds were singing softly and your eyes started to flutter in rhythm with them. If you did not make a move, you would be fast asleep, you thought. Yet it seemed like such an effort…

“Ciaoooo !” You sat straight up from the fluffy bed, meeting a pair of green eyes in the opening of the door “Oh scusa, ti ho svegliato ?”

The girl had gorgeous ginger hair, though likely unnatural, flowing down to her waist, and a mischievous smile. She seemed a bit younger than you, and kept staring back at you until you shook your head and answered.

“Sorry ! Um, English is okay ? For you ? No parlo…” was it even parlo ? You were trying to get your point across, hoping she would forgive your mistakes. “No parlo Italiano ?”

“Aaaah yeah yeah sure !” She chuckled, her accent even richer in English. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I just arrived, it seems like we’re the only ones there…”

“No, no don’t worry, I was just resting my eyes. I did not check the other rooms, are we really ?” She nodded, pouting and crossing her arms. She probably expected a big welcome party. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chiara ! Let’s go have a drink when you’ve unpacked !”

You smiled as the girl waved and trotted downstairs. She was right, unpacking right now would probably be a good idea.

“Cazzo, la mia testa…” Chiara groaned while walking down the stairs from her bedroom to the shared kitchen.

Definitely, you had been right to not follow her in town the day before the start of “classes”. The bottle of wine you downed together in under half an hour had been enough, and when she had left to go explore the nearest bars, you had opted for a swift retreat into your room.

This coincided with the arrival of two other students, with whom you spent the rest of the evening making small talk. Apparently another one had arrived in the night.

The Italian boy you hadn’t met was immediately assaulted by Chiara, who seemed to know him. And it also seemed the feeling wasn’t mutual. You understood almost nothing of their exchange, but it made you and your new roommates laugh quite a lot.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, your shared breakfast only interrupted by Chiara’s flow of anecdotes, and a few exchanges about where each one of you was coming from and what studies you did before. One of the girls you had met the night before was going through the rule book of the residency, stating out loud the facts she found relevant.

It’s only around twelve, as you were all getting ready to head to the school for your first meeting, that the three last students arrived to the house. A few pleasantries were exchanged, a promise of a good meal together tonight to meet properly, and you all left the residency, following happily the little path from the garden up the hills.

The Pavillon Bosio looked more like a huge villa than a school, hidden between the trees. With its cute red roof and stunning view of the sea, you were all in awe as you entered through the gates.

“Bonjour, bonjour tout le monde ! This way please, for the restoration workshop right ? This way, come !” An old bearded man with a thick French accent welcomed you all, guiding you through the corridors of the school.

You settled in a small classroom, tables filled with paper cups, coffee dispensers and pastries. The old man introduced himself as the head of the program, and encouraged you to have a drink and get to know each other while waiting for the last two students. You couldn’t help but notice that some things never change, it’s always the one who live the closest who are the latest.

But you had barely any time to put down your bags and take a coffee before laughter was heard in the hallway, two voices clearly making their way towards you. And as they entered the room, your head started spinning.

There they were, the two monegasques, the last missing pieces of your eclectic little group of students. The man was quite elegant, dressed all in black in spite of the warm temperature, and body dripping with gold jewelry. But the girl, oh the girl… With long straight chestnut hair, and eyes of an even darker shade of brown, she was holding on to her friend’s arms with a delicacy only found in children who grew up bathed in the finest luxuries. She was wearing a white summer dress that did nothing to hide the shape of her body, and accentuated her sun-kissed skin. Everyone turned to them as they entered the room, but it seemed to you her eyes were only on you. The thought that you would have been the first to catch her attention made you blush, and you went on to hide your embarrassment in your cup of coffee.

“Alexandra, Luca, bienvenue ! Toujours un plaisir de vous revoir !” The old man, whose name you had learnt was Jean-Paul, went on to shake the hands of the two students, who he seemed to know already. “Je vous en prie, installez vous, prenez un café !”

The man, Luca if you understood correctly, stayed by the teacher’s side, engaging in a conversation punctuated by loads of “Oh !” and “Ah”, but the girl made her way to you with a determination that made you want to hide under the table.

She lost no time serving herself a cup of coffee and a pastry, and turned to you with a smile brighter than the summer sun. As she put her hand on your shoulder, leaning in to lay a kiss on each of your cheeks, you felt as if all the air had been sucked from your body.

“Alexandra, nice to meet you !”

And just like that, your whole world had turned upside down.

In the days that followed that meeting, all the little group of students started to get along pretty well, getting to know each other from their studies to the role they would play in your year-long project, while also sharing personal anecdotes at night, under the trees of the residency’s garden.

But the bond you felt with Alexandra, that was something else. It was as if you two had known each other forever, everything flowed smoothly, and your passions were either shared by the girl, or met with genuine curiosity and interest. Not even two weeks had passed and you already had little habits, inside jokes and plans for the rest of the year.

In the first stage of the program, the work was mainly research and preparation of the artworks, which meant that except for the mandatory seminars and meetings here and there, you were free to schedule your work time and partners as you pleased. This led to Alexandra coming to the house every morning, having breakfast with you, and going to the school together, or settling in your bedroom with your computers and working, or at least trying, together. If you gave yourself free time, she would take you to museums, or restaurants she enjoyed, or just lying down in parks as she tried to teach you some French. She was kind and patient, and in a desperate wish to get her to like you, you tried to be the best student, reading diligently every book she recommended you.

You quickly realized that although she was a true social butterfly, the whole group of students enjoying having her around, she was much more comfortable when you were just the two of you. She would often suggest you sneak off from team activities, wanting to share the secrets of the city she grew up in only with you. And there was no way you would complain about that. By the end of September, you deeply felt like you had found the best of best friends.

You didn’t know how it got so bad so quickly. No, actually, you did. Alexandra was the worst kind of best friend for someone as prone as you to catch feelings. You had always been quite close physically with your friends, hugging and holding hands were essentials for you to express your affection, but you also knew how weak you could be to pet names and fluttering eyelashes, and with each day that passed, she was making it harder for you to only see her as a friend.

You knew she was aware of her beauty and of how everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, but how could she not realize that the amount of affection she gave you was on the borderline of what would be considered “normal” for a girl friendship ? How could she so casually play with your hair, nails softly digging into your scalp as she lulled you to sleep, your head on her legs in your bed ? How could she lack all sense of modesty, casually undressing in front of you when preparing for a party, and expecting you to help her choose a dress as if you weren’t face to face with her lacy underwear and model body.

You truly despised yourself for ruining such a pure friendship with those thoughts, and desperately tried to remember to not break her trust by being not better than those “nice guys” you had so often dealt with yourself. But what you thought could be a simple physical attraction, something that would pass with a few drinks and the arms of an unknown frenchie, turned into a feeling that burned your insides and made your heart ache a little bit more everyday.

You had so often longed for a soft love, someone who would accept and care for you with the same warmth as you would for them. Friends, good friends, you always had many. Deep friendship, much less so. But the bond you had with Alexandra, you had never experienced it before. You were starting to think that if you had ever felt love before, it had been nothing more than a crush in comparison to this.

You tried to be a good friend. Controlling your breathing when she touched you. Inviting others to your gatherings when you felt you might confess after one too many drinks. Trying not to read too much into her actions, but damn it, she really seemed to be like this only with you.

In the end, what lost you were the pet names. One in particular, she would always throw carelessly as if the word didn’t roll on her lips, sweet like honey.

“Coucou mon chou !”

Waving at you and jumping in your arms, she would repeat the pet name again and again just to see you blush, and who were you to deny her… At first you did not know the meaning of it, and thinking of it, maybe you should have never asked.

It was the middle of October, and you were working with her and Chiara in the school, getting started on repairing some of the minor artworks that were entrusted to you. Well, more like you and Chiara were working, and Alexandra was tagging along out of boredom. With her degree in Art History, her role in the workshop wasn’t as much on the artworks than on their exposition. Which mostly meant your ginger friend was peeling little gold leaves while listening to EDM so loud you could still shake your head in rhythm through her headphones, and Alexandra was glued to you, even in the most uncomfortable of positions.

She had started working on little braids in your hair when, once again, the pet name was used.

“Mon chou, d’you have any hair ties ?”

“What does it mean ?” You asked as plainly as possible, while giving her the hair tie on your wrist.

“What does what mean ?”

“Mon chou. I guess that’s a nickname but you haven’t taught me what it means.” Something good, you hoped. Something sweet.

“No way you don’t know what’s a chou ?!” She grabbed you by the shoulders and you had to follow her movement swiftly in order to not ruin your work “Un chou ? Like… un chou à la crème ?” You nodded no, a bit shameful. You should have looked it up yourself. “It’s a pastry, dear. Something delicious, very airy, the best are filled with cream ? My favorite.” She planted a kiss on your cheek, and you thought, honest to god, that you could die happy on the spot. “Just like you.”

If only this had stopped there. But the next day, when she came to the residency, she snuck the breakfast directly into your room. You had barely woken up when she sat on the side of your bed, seemingly quite excited. She made you sit up and pushed some strands of hair behind your ears before placing the small pastry box on your knees.

“What is this Alex…?” You groaned while pushing back the curtains with one hand, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“Des choux !” She was grinning from ear to ear, and did not give you much more time to comprehend before opening the box. In it, a myriad of little golden cream puffs were staring back at you. “Des choux pour mon chou !” She giggled at her joke and you could not help but laugh too, for the gift was both actually funny, and sweet. “You gotta taste !”

You agreed, but she seemed to have something else in mind as she took one between her slender fingers and brought it up to your mouth. Surely she would not…? And surely she did. Taking advantage of your stupid lack of reaction time, she softly pushed the pastry between your lips, not enough to make you gag on it, yet you could still feel her digit rubbing your bottom lip before making an exit, leaving you dumbfounded and mouth full of the soft cream. Oh yes, you were definitely fucked.

October came to an end, the heavy temperatures and lazy afternoons on the beach leaving place to walks in the old town, cuddled together under one huge scarf. But the evening breeze did nothing to appease the fire in your heart, nor did it slow the speed at which your feelings for Alexandra deepened every day. If not too long ago, you wished for your friendship to stay as pure as the summer sky, now you only longed to confess, lay your heart out before her as a sacrifice, telling her to eat it raw, and the whole of you with it. It was a mixture of love, devotion and desire so strong, she could have asked you to worship her and you would have built a cathedral in her honor.

But you were oh so afraid of ruining everything. If she didn’t return your feelings, that was one thing. But what if she hated you for it ? You could not bear the thought of being apart from her, especially knowing you would still have to work with her for the rest of the year. You would rather eat your feelings than let it happen.

You were still pondering what it could mean for you both when you arrived at her apartment, in the very center of Monaco. You had been there quite a few times, even more recently, to work, to crash after evenings out, or just to have sleepovers, like tonight. It was very well located, and filled with expensive and tasteful furniture, but you did not really like it.

She had explained to you that she did her studies in Paris, and her parents still lived in Monaco. She would also often hang out at friends’ places, in and out of Monaco, and even spend weekends outside of the country quite frequently, with friends as well. The apartment was mostly a safety net, an investment, but you could feel nothing of her in it. It was barely decorated, a bit more those last few weeks now that you two were constantly buying stupid trinkets in token of your friendship, but you did not see her in it.

Yet, as she opened the door and took you instantly in her arms, whispering in your ear, home is the only word that came to your mind.

“Bonsoir mon petit chou”

“Bonsoir louloute” you answered sheepishly with your shitty accent, greeting her with the pet name she had taught you, one her friend Luca often used. It did not mean anything, just sounded cute.

She giggled, taking your hand and leading you inside. Very quickly, through music, wine and hair curlers, the mood for the evening was set. The alcohol made you speak more freely, and hopefully, it would help Alexandra too. Even though she said you knew things about her that nobody else did, there were still many subjects where you could feel her hesitation to delve in. It’s okay, with time, she would trust you about those too, you were sure of it.

She was babbling on about some friends’ drama while sitting on the edge of the window, when you took in the sight in front of you. She had taken off her hair curlers, and put on a satin robe that was slowly falling down her shoulder. The show of lights behind her, flickering between the moon and the glow of the city’s street lamps, made her features stand out even more. Her hair looked so shiny, her skin so soft, and the sparkle in her eye… Nothing she said really mattered, yet you could listen to her for hours and hours, as long as she kept blessing you with this sight.

You must have stared too intensely or for too long, because she came down from her seat and knelt on the floor, right in front of you, softly cupping your cheek with her hand.

“Ça va mon chou ?” Her brows furrowed, and she brought her other hand to your forehead. “You okay ?”

Her hot breath, inches away from your face. Her perfume, tickling your nose, you could almost see it dripping from her neck. Her fingers, drawing small figures on your cheeks. And her lips… there she was, so close, almost face to face, you had dreamt of this so often, and only now you realized how pink her lips were.

Maybe it was the amount of wine, maybe the temperature in her living room, but everything started spinning, and before you knew it, you had closed the gap and crashed your lips against hers. One hand on her small waist, the other in her hair, the kiss was messy, sticky like honey, you wanted to bite and barely restrained yourself. You felt like your heart was about to explode when she moaned into your mouth, and you were pretty sure you felt it drop when she pulled away.

For what felt like an eternity, you stayed silent, panting, eyes locked, air heavy with the realization of what had just happened. She blushed, and you started smiling, before she spoke in a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

[clowncalvary]

Out of Context DnD Memes I Made Years Ago

A classic; I feel like this is very relatable to anyone who has ever been a game master. I think this was in response to a player literally seducing a wendi-boy in their first encounter with him. Very surprised that there is no "THE WENDIGO CAN DRIVE!?" memes in here. That was the most asked question when the monster kidnapped a party member.

Heroditus was probably our most sane party member. Which is kind of like being a tuxedo cat around a bunch of tabbies; you will notice that they are still a cat. He did convince the head of Missouri Conservation that he was not only an expert in a river turning into bile, but did so by being part of Bass Pro. The player thought she was rather clever for this, and honestly she was right.

The easy answer to this is that the DM just forgot that crawdads are a thing in Missouri rivers.

Simone is not known for making good choices. In fact I would say his standing characters traits are making bad decisions, lying, and literally disappearing if he decides to use stealth.

If you were curious: yes he failed the fucking spell.

My first boss was a literal moth god named Spode. They one-hit him with a molotov cocktail and then threw a lamp down the hole he came out of as a final "fuck you". Probably the funniest photo editing I have ever done considering the amount of effort to make this image.

A past party member was literally a gun slinger. His gun also jammed far more often than it fired.

For reference Jake didn't technically cause the Apocalypse, but he was extremely ready to blame his Great Grandpa immediately.

Remember when I mentioned the idiot who lied using Bass Pro and the idiot who was doing a delicate spell in a moving car? Yeah, same two idiots right here.

I....have no god damn idea why I made this meme. It is just sitting in the back of my folder like a lil specter.

[onlineplantsnz1]

Phalaenopsis Orchids in New Zealand: Beauty in Elegance"

New Zealand's diverse landscape boasts an array of flora and fauna, but amidst this rich botanical tapestry, the exquisite Phalaenopsis orchids stand out as a symbol of beauty and elegance. These enchanting flowers, commonly known as moth orchids, have found a special place in the hearts of Kiwi orchid enthusiasts and horticulturists. Let's delve into the allure of Phalaenopsis orchids and their unique presence in the scenic paradise of New Zealand.

Embracing the Elegance of Phalaenopsis Orchids

1. Graceful Aesthetics

Phalaenopsis orchids captivate with their delicate, butterfly-like blooms that come in an array of colors, including white, pink, purple, and even spotted variations. Their graceful appearance adds a touch of sophistication to any space they adorn.

2. Adaptability to New Zealand's Climate

These orchids thrive in New Zealand's temperate climate, making them a popular choice among gardeners and indoor plant enthusiasts. Their adaptability to both indoor and sheltered outdoor environments makes them a versatile addition to local gardens and homes.

3. Longevity and Blooming Season

Known for their long-lasting flowers, Phalaenopsis orchids can bloom for several months, providing extended periods of visual delight. Their flowering season typically spans from late winter through spring, brightening up spaces during cooler months.

Cultivating Phalaenopsis Orchids in New Zealand

1. Ideal Growing Conditions

In New Zealand, Phalaenopsis orchids thrive in well-draining potting mixtures and benefit from indirect sunlight. They require consistent moisture without waterlogging and moderate temperatures to flourish.

2. Indoor Décor and Gifting

These elegant orchids not only enhance indoor spaces with their beauty but also make for thoughtful and lasting gifts, reflecting the unique charm and elegance associated with the flower.

Orchid Enthusiasts' Paradise

1. Orchid Societies and Events

New Zealand is home to passionate orchid enthusiasts and societies dedicated to orchid cultivation. Orchid shows and events held across the country celebrate the diversity and beauty of these captivating flowers.

2. Orchid Conservation Efforts

Conservation initiatives in New Zealand aim to preserve and protect native orchid species while also promoting the cultivation and appreciation of exotic varieties like the Phalaenopsis orchids.

Conclusion: Orchids' Enduring Elegance

Phalaenopsis orchids in New Zealand represent not just floral beauty but also a deep appreciation for nature's artistry and resilience. Their ability to thrive in various environments, coupled with their enchanting blooms, has made them a beloved addition to Kiwi gardens, homes, and hearts.

As these orchids continue to captivate with their timeless elegance, they serve as a reminder of the delicate balance between nature and nurture, showcasing the beauty that thrives in New Zealand's diverse and stunning landscapes.