#stony headers

[himejoshi-homosexual]

The best part of changing your icon every 9 months is that it feels like my icon is saying all the stuff that I'm reblogging. Which incites me to reblog more stuff.

[girlgenius1111]

waiting room

alexia breaks up with you for reasons you don't understand. she only realizes her mistake when she thinks she's going to lose you.

You thought about it every second, for days. It didn't make sense, why Alexia had broken up with you. Her reasoning was completely unclear, she stumbled through the breakup, spewing cliches. It didn't matter though, not really. She'd broken up with you, and that was it. All you could do was focus on football, take training one day at a time. Seeing her every day, stony faced, was indescribably painful.

No one on the team really understood what had happened to the both of you, which really just made things easier. There were no sides chosen, you simply coexisted.

You pushed all thoughts of her out of your head, focusing on warm ups. It was hard; she looked so stunning in the warm up jersey, blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, and you could have sworn that you kept catching her looking at you. You needed to focus though.

The game wasn't supposed to be a tough one, and it remained a boring one well into the second half. There wasn't much time left when you went down. You jumped in the air for a header, and another body had collided with you, shoulder hitting your head, sending you slamming back down to the ground. You were conscious after the first hit, but when you made contact with the ground, your head banging down with a sickening thud, everything went black.

Alexia was sprinting across the field to you before the whistle had even blown, panic coursing through her veins. She was the first one to you, somehow, collapsing onto her knees next to your limp form.

"Y/n! Can you hear me?" Alexia pleaded, hands fluttering uselessly above your body, terrified to touch you. You didn't react at the sound of her voice, not moving a muscle. You were on your side, face pressed into the grass. "Amor, please," Alexia said, not caring if people heard, not caring if you weren't together, not caring about anything except you being okay. The physios were arriving, and someone was tugging her away from you. Mariona held her back, as the midfielder stared helplessly at you.

The physios were worried, and they were never worried. You still weren't moving, and Alexia thought she was going to lose her mind. All she could do was watch.

Watch as they brought the stretcher out, the neck brace. Watch as they carefully lifted you onto it. The game was completely forgotten, the noise of the stadium reduced to static in her ears. She willed you, with everything in her, to open your eyes, to move, to do anything. You didn't, though, remaining completely motionless as they moved you off the field.

"Ale,"

She turned, belatedly realizing that Mario was talking to her.

"Do you need to go off?" she asked. She knew her captain well, and could tell that Alexia wasn't mentally on the field anymore. Her brain had gone with you, following you down the tunnel.

"What if she's not okay," Alexia replied, completely disregarding the question asked to her. At that, Mario motioned to the sidelines, and Jona nodded in understanding.

"She's gonna be fine, she's tough. Go off the field, go check on her," Alexia didn't know when Marta had arrived next to her, but there she was, tugging the captain's armband off the blonde, and gently nudging her to the sidelines.

Alexia looked lost as she walked off the field, almost dazed. She bypassed the bench completely, walking down the tunnel after you. Jana and Mapi were waiting there, Mapi on her crutches. Alexia didn't even see them, not really, mind focused only on finding you.

Jana grabbed her captain's arm softly, drawing Alexia's attention to the brunette. "They're taking her to the hospital. If we go now, we'll get there just after the ambulance," Jana told her. Alexia nodded, not saying a word, beginning to walk briskly to the parking lot. She was still in her kit, still in her boots, but she would be damned if you had to sit in the hospital alone for any amount of time.

What if you weren't okay? She'd messed everything up, ruined it all. She'd let her insecurity take over, convinced herself that she wasn't good enough for you, pushed you away despite your insistence that she was all you wanted. She'd broken up with you for nothing, and now you were.... hurt? She didn't even know. All she knew was that the last thing she'd said to you had been a monotone, half assed explanation. It had been a lie. She shouldn't have done it. She loved you, she understood that now more than she ever had. What if you weren't okay?

-----

You became aware of a steady pounding in your head. Your mouth felt dry, and your body felt stiff. Still, you were floating somewhere in between being awake and being asleep, and you could hear the machines beeping around you. Opening your eyes seemed like a monumental task, so instead, you focused on the way you felt.

You weren't quite sure what had happened. The last thing you remembered was jumping for a header, and then... nothing. Your head hurt, though, that was for sure. You tried to shift your fingers and your toes, suddenly terrified that you were paralyzed. They twitched under you, though, and you could feel the seam of the sock on your toes, and the tight grip your hand was in.

"She moved her hand," a voice said. Alexia. She sounded exhausted, terrified. She squeezed your hand, and you heard shuffling in the room.

"Amor, can you hear me?" she asked. Amor? You were pretty sure she'd broken up with you. Amusingly, this thought seemed to spur you through the last dregs of sleep, and you forced your eyes open. Alexia's face was inches from yours, and if you weren't too busy groaning in pain as the light hit your eyes, you would have been startled.

"Oh god, you're awake. Thank god. How do you feel?" Alexia spoke, a hand coming up to lightly, lightly, stroke your face.

You cleared your throat. "Didn't you dump me?" you rasped, looking at her in confusion. She let out a watery laugh that turned into a sob, before she buried her head into your abdomen, blankets muffling her cries. You looked around, bewildered at her behavior. You noticed the others in the room, then, Ingrid and Mapi, Marta and Patri, as Mapi placed a hand on Alexia's trembling back, rolling her eyes.

"She's been like this for the past 2 days," Mapi said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. You just blinked at her. 2 days? You'd been out for 2 days? Alexia was still crying, though, and the sound was cracking your chest open, hurting more than your head did. Placing a gentle hand on her head, you called her name.

"Ale, honey? Are you alright?" Her head snapped up. She looked like a mess. The most beautiful mess you'd ever seen, but still. She had tear tracks staining her face, bags under her eyes, and her lip was trembling pitifully.

"Am I alright? You've been in a coma for 2 days, and you're asking me if i'm alright?" she asked, seemingly baffled by your question. Mapi nodded to the other girls, tilting her head towards the door. They all rose, leaving you and Alexia in the room by yourselves. You were going to respond to her, assure her that you were fine, but she was talking before you could get any words out.

"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. I shouldn't have broken up with you, I didn't mean it. I got all in my head, and I was worried I couldn't give you what you deserved, and I was trying to protect you, and then you went down, and I couldn't even function. I can't live without you, y/n, and I'm so sorry," she said the words rushed, as if worried you were going to cut her off, not let her finish.

You didn't say anything, the new information entering your currently very slow moving brain. Alexia's hands were wrapped in the blanket, and tears were pouring down her cheeks, yet she remained silent, giving you time to process.

"You... you broke up with me because you didn't think you were good enough for me?" You asked finally, working hard to keep your voice neutral. It was the most preposterous thing you'd ever heard, truly. Alexia nodded, not trusting her voice.

"That is one of the stupidest things i've ever heard. Seriously idiotic, Alexia. I thought I made it clear, I thought you knew that I loved you, that I only wanted you. You've always been enough for me," you told her. You knew that you should probably be mad at her, but she looked so broken, and her reasoning for breaking up with you made your heart ache for her. You couldn't be mad, not at her.

"Loved?" she asked quietly, referring to the past tense with which you'd phrased your sentence.

"Love," you corrected. "I didn't get hit hard enough to stop loving you." She smiled weakly at you, through her tears, before dropping her head back down to rest against your stomach. You ran your fingers through her hair, detangling gently as you went, and she sighed contentedly at your motions.

"I was so worried," she mumbled into you.

"What happened anyway?" you asked, only really caring to know now that Alexia had stopped crying. She picked her head up, realizing she'd given you no information on your condition.

"You hit your head. Hard. Twice. You have a concussion, and your brain swelled, and they almost had to do brain surgery, but it improved," she told you, and you could feel the worry that had had her heart in it's clenched fist loosening as she looked at you.

"When can I play again?" you asked and she snorted, because of course, that's what you were thinking about.

"The doctors say a few months, but I'm not sure I'm letting you out of the house ever again unless you're wrapped in bubble wrap."

"No," you said, "you just can't break up with me again, and I won't need to go getting major head injuries to bring you to your senses."

She laughed then, a real laugh, a real smile adorning her face. She leaned in, placing her lips on yours ever so gently, and you could feel her smiling still against your face.

"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she whispered it back, leaning her forehead against yours. You'd be fine. You could have any injury, really, and be fine, as long as you had Alexia.

-----

slightly different from the request, but i hope you liked it :)

[withonly-sweetheart]

Skin Out of Stone

He frees you from the confines of the Earth you were born, yet your feet grace the same ground that his does. He pays you an homage, and doesn't expect your reaction to be so... grateful.

a/n: so erm... this was supposed to come out a long long time ago but i couldnt find my rb of @chesue00 's art (middle image in header) in my fic ideas tag and thats bc i never rbed it.

kmsing rn. but erm YES SCULPTOR LEON HAS ME THINK A WHOLE WHOLE LOT BC UR BRAIN IS SO SCRUMPDIDLYUMPTIOUS SO YES THIS IS SOMEWHAT LIKE TO KEEP AN ANGEL I THINK ITS SET IN THE SAME TONE? idfk take this and gn 🫡🫡

tw: mentions of sex, nsfw, nun too bad i think, ig implied stalking but its all in good faith trust 🙏🙏

wc: 1.3k

All he’s ever wanted to do is capture you, a moment in time, in that block of concrete delivered to him the moment you had appeared into his life, a sequence of events he knew he was tumbling far too fast towards, yet unable to stop it anyway. The curve of your hip, where he braces his palm, flattens it against the clay that so easily succumbs to his touch, unable to think on its own. It serves his purpose to adapt to his thoughts, molding to his vision.

The vision of you, standing in the golden afterglow of mysterious sunlight, dappling you in unthinkable shadows, how you would be melting honey dripping between his fingers if you would just give him a chance. But your worlds, however you might begin to appear in the stone in front of him, will never collide.

Secretly, one part of him hopes that you might see it one day, appear at his doorstep, perched over his shoulder like a songbird waiting to serenade his work, his devotion to you. But your eyes will only ever be directed at him through the vivid ink in magazines, or the pixelated photos posted of you.

He feels disgusted with the people who breach your privacy for their shameful desires, for their aching heart, but he knows that he is doing the exact same thing. But how can he help himself, when your lips are the identity of his statue, days and days of work uncovering the perfect angle.

The chisel breaks off chunks of your body, carving you from the rough edges, smoothing you like unblemished paper, the divine goddess you are. In a way, he feels just like that; a worshiper to a deity who will never know of his existence. But he reluctantly accepts his fate, in his quiet, cozy studio, and he brings you to life.

Under his fingers, under his guidance, you emerge from the stone with each tap, each chink, revealing yourself draped in shadows, ones he has never seen. He plays a torturous game with himself, itching to get back to his work when the sun rises, the furrow in his brow deepening every day he is away from his idea of you.

He grasps your chin, wishing there was living, moving flesh underneath him, but alas there is no movement. Only the tilt of your eyes glancing downwards, destined to never drag your gaze over his body, raking him with unseen flames.

Without another moment of hesitation, he inches closer, thinking if he squeezes his eyes hard enough, you’ll materialize in an ethereal manner, bringing his fantasies to life. But his nose only brushes the rough peak of yours, smooth yet never in the way skin would be.

And under the lamplight, he envisions that he is still uncovering parts of you, secret to the world, save for you and him. An empathy felt only for him, only his fingers prying away your barriers.

Your blood runs gray and stony, cold to the touch, where he runs his fingers down what he assumes to be the shape of your body, hidden in the pictures he uses as references. He thinks, a time ago, he disdained the people who did the very thing he’s guilty of at this moment.

Strange, though, his frenzy only grows with every new discovery he creates, mapping your body with the landmarks, the dips of your crescent shaped thighs, admiring how beautiful you look when you’re just… simply his.

But there comes a time when his work must end, when his brush and tools must be swept aside, so he can marvel in your glory. And where he expects to feel immense pride, he only feels guilt.

Disgust that churns his stomach, turning him inside out, skin green with envy. His references were all locally sourced, but how could he have foreseen any of this? It was a simple thing, the sweet girl who lived next door, too innocent to know the power her beauty held over him.

So his only choice of action is to come clean, to hand over the hammer that could easily destroy weeks, even months of hard, untainted work. A single blow would be all it takes, and when the hammer falls limp in your hands, he is more than confused.

He watches your lips separate, the same way he had imagined all your fluid motions, your eyebrows raised, knocking against one another as you turn to him, setting his skin on fire. And unlike you, his skin is not of stone.

“You… did this?” you ask, skeptically, as if you are doubting him. The only reason that leads him to further reveal his mishaps.

“You were too beautiful to resist,” he admits, lowering his gaze in shame. Anger thrums with his heartbeat, if only he had just asked for your permission!

But to his surprise, you turn back to yourself, a mirror image of you set in one singular moment, with your gaze pondering the floor, barraging it with your thoughtful questions, and the corner of your lip quirks upward, he hopes.

“This is a strange way to ask someone out,” you murmur, voice as soft as he had imagined those words leaving your lips. Exactly how he had envisioned it, although in his dreams, you were saying more than just that.

“Sorry?” He’s blanked out on other excuses, words to fill in the silence he wishes wouldn’t be so awkward. Majoring in art left no room for any friends, unless you counted the ones online, only known in their identity overseas.

“It’s lovely,” you settle for after a second of readjusting your thoughts. He can almost see them clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle before your silky hair casts a protective sheen around it.

He wants nothing more than to pry them back apart, inspect how your mind works, to finally see the inside of your morals, how far you’d be willing to traverse with him by your side.

“Lovely?” he asks, tentatively.

<><><><>

Truthfully, in all aspects, the conversation had seemed drawn out, bland if he might venture to share his true opinion. But when you're gliding down his skin, all his rationality buries itself into an impenetrable box and refuses to come back.

“Oh, fuck, yes, just like that,” he stammers into your ear, attempting for praise but sounding weaker than he had planned.

There's an astonished look on your face, curving your lips and sweeping the lilt of your cheekbones to the side as you pant into his neck, thighs trembling around him.

And your reluctance speaks volumes to him, so he presses back for once, speaks up to keep the one thing that's grounded him to art, keeping you sane in his presence. Or somewhat the other way around.

This time, he finds what he's looking for. With every gentle stroke, every deep thrust, he breaks you even further, exposing you to his hungry eyes. He drinks up every last bit of your vulnerable form, savoring the sounds that tear themselves from your tired throat.

He cradles you, long after you've drifted off. He knows there is no use in dreaming when he's living it right now, experiencing what it feels like to be content with just rubbing your skin, soothing the reddening patches with his cool touch.

You shift to face him, and the moonlight filters through the window to illuminate your radiating, peaceful expression, as serene as it was the day he caught you sleeping in the library. He's always wanted to see that face in his bed, facing him, with your skin pressed tightly together, slick and smooth, miles of what feels like one being.

He finally reaches out, and for a moment, he fears you will turn to stone under his touch. So he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for it to happen, for the inevitable to crash down onto him.

But it never does. In fact, all that meets him is warmth, rigid from the chill that creeps in through the walls. And he realizes something.

Your skin is not of stone, it never was.

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Thrust Issues

Thrust Issues by @sineala

Fandom: Marvel (Comics)

Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Start Date: 3/31/24

End Date: 4/11/24

Pages: 314

Oh sweet Thrust Issues. Look at this cover. This was another one that I knew INSTANTLY what I wanted to do. Only had a few sections of the vinyl fight with me here, and I learned how adding to much glue when I'm making the casing can bleed through the book cloth and stain it. Ugh.

Name of the game for this bind was: Simply bold. Clean lines, consistent headers, nothing TO much. It was a challenge to see how quickly I could get the book set and bound. The answer is a week and a half.

Ugh the spine - she's also beautiful. This was also the first time i uses substantial davy board for the cover - so this is my first book with that lovely groove on the cover.

The inside pages are also simple - heavy on the lines lines lines, and one of my favorite actual lines from the fic. My end paper that you can just see here is VERY boring - what I had in my craft stock. Reminder to myself: Next version? Make your own end papers.

Typeset! Also simple. The headers build out a heart, with each chapter stacking more and more lines. Kept the stutter text like on the cover for the chapter names, pulled out the numbers and made the drop caps OVERSIZED. Simple, clean, statements that don't distract from this fucking masterwork of idiots-to-lovers fic.

Last shot I have is of the butt. This is the last time I used pre-made headbands. Also shows how loose the casing was - that gap between the spines? HUGE. A CAVERN. AND I didn't trim the pages. I was to afraid after I had FUCKED up All thats said's pages.

All in all, this I think that this bind was a tipping point. Having property sized cover boards really did it, and seeing how quick I could bind a fic was also helpful.

Thrust Issues is a peace of angsty art - and, In my opinion, a necessary Stony read. Sineala is a huge inspiration - one of my gateway Stony authors, and happened to be the one to point me toward better resources to bind books. Her kindness, creativity, and patience knows no bounds - and I'm happy that she was so open and kind with allowing me to transform her work. Go follow her and follow her and read her stuff.

Pssssst, also - if you wanted one of my binds for yourself, I'm participating in MTH this year and would be happy to make one for you!

[holylulusworld]

Stony Masterlist

Masterlist for all Stony (Steve x Tony) stories.

Please consider, that these stories have no reader insert.

Contains: 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 💦 smut // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut // 😈 darkish // 🐺 A/B/O

We used to be friends masterlist... feat. Bucky Barnes

Find more MCU stories here: Marvel Masterlist

Divider & header by me *for my blog use only*

[cant-get-enough-btr-forever]

"Big Time Battle of the Bands", Chapter 3: Big Time Advertising

That Tuesday, James and Logan were carrying boxes of flyers around town. Mrs. Knight had finished creating the tickets and flyers the day before. So, the boys had split up into teams: Logan and James would put up the flyers, while Kendall and Carlos would sell the tickets.

Logan finished stapling the last of his flyers to a telephone pole. Big Time Rush Benefit Concert at the Palmwoods – SATURDAY, 7:00-9:00 PM / Tickets being sold at Palmwoods Entrance, the paper announced.

He admired it for a moment, picked up the empty box, and turned to check on how James was coming along. He was stapling his flyer to a tree. To Logan's surprise, James' flyer looked different from his flyer.

He walked closer: Yep. In place of the band’s image was one of James' glamour headshots. He seemed to have chosen 'Blue Steel Rock Star' for this.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked suspiciously.

James turned to him, smiling. "Just puttin' up flyers. What else?" He hummed cheerfully as he picked up his box and went to another tree.

Logan blinked and walked alongside him. "That's funny, because your flyers look a little different from mine."

James stapled the flyer and turned around again. "That's because my technique is a little bit different from yours. See, when there is a handsome face in a band, it's common to single that face out and use it for promotion.

"Thus, more people are inclined to look into the band and go to said band's concerts. It's a scientific fact, Logan. You should know that."

Logan blinked again. "This is a Big Time Rush concert. Not a James Diamond concert. We don't care whose 'face' people are looking at. What we care about is saving the Palmwoods."

James gave a small scoff. "Of course I care about that. I'm just saying, we’ll get a much better turnout if we have a focus in our advertising."

He held one of the flyers next to his head. "Trust me. No one can resist the Blue Steel Rock Star."

Logan sighed. "Fine. Whatever. My work here is done, so I'm gonna head home and work on that group project we were assigned for school. And when you're done, you're gonna help me with it, because you are my assigned partner."

"Oh, yeah, about that. I'm booked for the rest of the day. I need to finish promoting on my blog."

Logan was caught off guard. "Your...blog? Since when do you have a blog?"

"Since yesterday. Check it." James suddenly pulled a small laptop out of the box. Upon opening it, a webpage was displayed: Diamond in the Rush. Several more of James' headshots were posted below the fancy header.

He grinned. "Pretty sweet, right?"

Logan gaped like a fish, turned, and walked away. James just shrugged and went back to stapling.

......

Meanwhile, Kendall and Carlos were making their rounds in the Palmwoods.

Carlos knocked on one door. A stern elderly woman answered. "Good morning, ma'am! I'm Carlos from Big Time Rush, and I'm selling tickets to a concert fundraiser we're having this Friday. It's for the Palmwoods, and—"

The door slammed shut. Carlos gawked at the solid oak in his face.

Kendall knocked on a door one floor above. A heavyset, middle-aged man answered: He donned a tattered plaid shirt, stained wife-beater, and crabby countenance. A greasy, half-eaten pizza slice hung from his hand.

After staring for a moment, Kendall shook himself into his friendliest smile. "Uh, hello, sir! I'm Kendall, from the band Big Time Rush?" he began anxiously. The man simply took a bite of his pizza. "We're having a benefit concert for the Palmwoods on Friday, and we were just hoping you would buy a ticket." He held one up.

The man's stony expression was unwavering. "Not interested, kid." He shut the door on Kendall's grin.

Carlos and Kendall met up in a hallway. They wore the same disappointed face. "Man, this is gonna be harder than I thought." Carlos griped, rifling through the tickets in his box. "I haven't sold a single one!"

Kendall sighed. "Yeah, I know. I’ll never understand how Girl Scouts do it with those cookies. I guess this would be easier if we had big, innocent eyes, were about six years younger, and wore cute outfits." he said, chuckling.

Carlos snorted. "Yeah, if only we looked like that."

They looked at each other, each raising one eyebrow.

......

"Guys, I'm not gonna dress up in some dumb kiddie costume!" Katie exclaimed, crossing her arms.

Kendall and Carlos stood in front of Kendall's eleven-year-old sister, Katie. "Katie, come on! It's for the Palmwoods." Kendall asserted.

"Yeah! If we don't sell any tickets, we could end up on the streets!" Carlos pleaded.

Katie made a face. "Seriously? There are tons of other apartment complexes. They'll probably have even more amenities and square footage than the Palmwoods. In fact, that’s why this place is tanking in the first place. It’s called a ‘competitive market’? Hello?”

The two boys shook their heads. "Oh, Katie. Don't you understand? This place has so many memories for us. We can't abandon those so soon." said Kendall.

Carlos added brightly, "Like the Turf Gun World War we had from the balconies in May?"

Kendall nodded, smiling in remembrance. "Ooh, or the fireworks competition we held?" The pair laughed at the memory.

That one actually got a smirk out of Katie. "Bitters' hair was singed for the rest of July." she chuckled.

"Besides, this is the first place we ever stayed in after moving to L.A. We’d have to leave behind all our friends. It's just...so much to have to let go of." Kendall said, genuinely sad. She sighed, looking from one frown to the other.

"Please, Katie? The Palmwoods isn't just counting on us, it's counting on you." Carlos begged, clutching his hands together. They pulled pouty, hapless expressions.

She rolled her eyes. The things she did for these idiots.

......

A knock resounded in the elderly lady's apartment. She opened the door to find Katie standing there. Katie was wearing a white sailor suit. Her hair flaunted a set of curled pigtails. She'd never looked cuter.

"Hi! My name's Katie. Would you like a ticket to my big brother's concert? I'm giving away free chocolate bars, too!" She held up the chocolate bar, smiling warmly.

The elderly lady placed her hands over her heart and smiled. "Awww, honey, of course I'll buy a ticket! He never said anything about having such a precious baby sister." she gushed, taking the bar.

Kendall and Carlos poked their heads around the corner. They grinned at each other and bumped fists.

[sashetha]

Some more recent art of Orion, including the current header. I often struggle against the urge to change major design elements when i pick up characters I haven't touched in a while. Orion however, is one of the few characters I have who's design always felt like it told a very clear story. Like a volcano threathening to erupt, he cracks and smolders. A stony, inflexible suface threathening to give way to years of supressed pain and anger. His asymetry too aluding to this internal sense of imbalance.

[nuadox]

Scientists have mapped and identified the largest known deep-sea coral reef habitat in the world

- By Nuadox Crew -

A newly published study reveals the discovery of the world's largest known deep-sea coral reef habitat off the southeast coast of the United States, covering an area larger than Vermont, or 6.4 million acres.

Image: Illustration of multibeam bathymetric data depicting coral mound features situated on the Blake Plateau. Credit: Sowers, et al.

The study, titled "Mapping and Geomorphic Characterization of the Vast Cold-Water Coral Mounds of the Blake Plateau," utilized bathymetric data from 31 multibeam sonar mapping surveys, led by NOAA Ocean Exploration.

The automated mapping system identified 83,908 individual coral mound peak features in the region, providing the first estimate of the total number of potential cold-water coral mounds. The coral province spans up to 500 kilometers long and 110 kilometers wide, with a core area of high-density mounds. The discovery, named "Million Mounds," is primarily composed of Desmophyllum pertusum, a stony coral, and provides valuable insights into coral populations and connectivity, aiding in the development of conservation plans for these poorly understood deep-sea ecosystems.

--

Header image: The majority of the deep-sea coral reef habitat on the Blake Plateau in the Atlantic Ocean consists of densely packed clusters of the reef-building coral Desmophyllum pertusum (formerly known as Lophelia pertusa). The healthy white coloring is notable, as deep-sea corals, lacking symbiotic algae dependence, do not undergo bleaching. These coral images were captured during a dive expedition off the coast of Florida in 2019. Credit: NOAA Ocean Exploration.

Source: NOAA Ocean Exploration

Full study: Sowers DC, Mayer LA, Masetti G, Cordes E, Gasbarro R, Lobecker E, Cantwell K, Candio S, Hoy S, Malik M, et al. Mapping and Geomorphic Characterization of the Vast Cold-Water Coral Mounds of the Blake Plateau. Geomatics. 2024; 4(1):17-47. https://doi.org/10.3390/geomatics4010002

Read Also

AI can track health of coral reefs via sound analysis

[purpleyearning]

It’s Me, Hi! I’m The Problem!

Also known as Ali, she/her, and I am in my 20s. Don’t really mind who follows as long as you are aware this is my blog where I post what I want, if you don’t like something then either don’t interact with said post or unfollow me. This is a personal multifandom random blog where I post anything and everything I feel like it.

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Credits: Icon & Header psd by @elmunson

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anti jonathan byers

anti jancy

anti josie saltzman

anti hosie

anti kanye west

anti kim kardashian

anti johnny depp

anti lucaya

anti snape

anti stony

If you hate x, you may want to block...

ch: allison argent

ship: scallison

ch: stiles stilinski

ship: sterek

ship: stydia

ch: betty cooper

ship: barchie

ch: blair waldorf

ch: caroline forbes

ch: stefan salvatore

ship: steroline

ch: clara oswald

ch: the doctor

ship: whouffle

ch: rory williams

ship: amory

ch: dean winchester

ch: hope mikaelson

ch: landon kirby

ship: handon

ch: lizzie saltzman

ship: hizzie

ch: riley matthews

ship: rucas

ch: steve harrington

ship: stancy

ch: steve rogers

ship: stucky

ch: tony stark

ch: will lamontagne

ship: willifer

ppl: taylor swift

[autumnslance]

(Header by @/ao3commentoftheday. Post--or write!--six sentences from a current WIP. Here's a little more than 6 from the current project.)

A recruit fainted, another screamed. Thancred stared at the body, then up at Lyna.

Her face was as stony as their implacable enemies. “So that’s the way of it?” He asked in halting vocabulary.

“It is,” she replied. She turned to the others, assigning travois duty for their companions' corses. It was past time to go home.

Thancred took one last look at the sin eater before it dissipated into component aether, indistinguishable from the Light above.

Now he understood.

[rainbeaufunfetti]

Intro + Directory

Hello everyone! I figured I might as well make a more cleaned-up pinned post, since the first one was old and a bit out-dated. I'll put the important links first for ease of navigation, and the intro proper under a cut.

My About Page- TBA.

Other Places- A page to link to other blogs or social media, or even a website if I ever get around to making one. TBA.

My Ko-Fi- I offer commissions and sell adopts here on occasion! (Don't mind the header atm, since I don't actually use most of those sites very much; it just looked naked without them. Also RIP CoHost; you could've been so cool if your operators weren't so fucking stupid...)

What is this blog for?

It's a blog that's primarily for SFW furry art, as well as a bit of kidcore/rainbowcore/scenecore sort of aesthetics- think furry art that was popular in the mid to late 2000's to early 10's and you'll have the idea. I'm aroace, and don't really care for a lot of fetishes besides, so I do my best to keep anything sexually charged off of the blog, because I don't want to think about that here; this is not what it's for.

Who are you?

I am me! I dunno yet how I want to be addressed on this blog. I'd prefer they/them as a start, though. (Bit of a disclaimer; I am, in fact, cis, but I feel really uncomfortable being referred to by my usual pronouns by strangers online. I feel disgruntled every time someone mistakes me for a boy, tho, so this is just to avoid that mistake right off the bat. Being disrespectful of this choice in any direction gets you blocked.) It is important to note that I am still an adult, and therefore reserve the right to talk like one (i.e. cursing like a sailor on occasion, tho I'll try to reign that in a little here).

What's with the "dragon"?

That's Beau! Rainbeau Velvette, to be more specific. He has a sister but I haven't finalized her design yet. Some of his own design is subject to change a little, as well, but some details like his body color and his belly and the golden ganache were details that were planned from the beginning. Basically his deal is that he's the mascot for this blog! Him and his sister, and maybe an as-of-yet unconceived third entity. His sister Darke Velvette is basically his opposite, visually and personality-wise. She's not mean or angry, though; she just comes across as kinda stony, and maybe has a little RBF going on. It's only partially intentional.

This is all I've got for now. This post is subject to be changed or replaced in the not-so-distant future, especially as I adjust the blog from time to time (I still haven't settled on a theme yet and it's bugging me bc my needs are both vague yet specific).

[iishmael]

I just replaced my header image!!! If anyone accesses my actual blog on browser there will still be the stony kiss gif so I haven’t cut ALL ties to marvel (lbr tony will forever own a piece of my heart) … still feels like a huge step 🥺

Anyways be glad I can’t do the thing where it plays the top gun soundtrack when you go on my blog 🤓

[m4rvelstuffs]

credit to warriorstvd and like if u use/save.

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - America Isn't Chicken

America Isn't Chicken by Amuly (@everybodyilovedies)

Started: 5/27/24

Finished: 6/15/24

Pages: 330

Fandom: Marvel 616 - Steve/Tony

Ah, this COVER. Its SO SPARKLY. I found this vinyl first and then immediately knew how I wanted to use it. Its got glitter in it, so it did make laying the cover out quite a task. I had a few versions of the cover in my head, and pulled the scope of it back SIGNIFICANTLY - but I think this is perfect for this fic.

I did have to fussy cut every red peace out and iron them on individually. Never again l o l.

Typeset for this was very simple. Header bands and a complementary drop caps color - red and blue. I also matched the page breaks to whoever's POV, as well as alternating page number graphics. Simple and clean.

Headbands. I...I don't want to talk about the headbands.

This was also the first time i figured out how to do the fucking cover boards. It took QUITE a while, and i still don't get it right half the time - but the crease and the spine and the board with? Started cooking here.

If you haven't read this fucking classic Stony fic, I recommend. The pure idiots to lovers here is mouthwatering, mixed with the classic good 616 comic content - i hope ya'll hop over and read this. Thanks to the lovely Dr Amuly for being cool about me binding their work <3

Still working backwards through my binds, so next up was my first try and collecting a full series into a single bind.

[marvelocks]

reblog or “♡” if you save.

[someiconsx]

stony header + lockscreen.      ✧ like or reblog if you use/save.      ✧ @dearcardan on twitter.