#three rivers site

[petsincollections]

Animal Petroglyph

Petroglyph, Three Rivers Site, Mogollon, Bureau of Land Management, Otero County

Petroglyph of sheep with struck with arrows. Three Rivers Petroglyph Site was occupied by Mogollon people between 900AD to 1400AD. Now maintained by the Bureau of Land Management, Otero County, NM.

Hubbard Museum of the American West

New Mexico's Digital Collections

[bellshazes]

gonna put footnotes in this fic but they'll all be block coordinates in the world download where i remember the camera being when the thing i'm referencing was said. good luck

[nullcodes]

first day of my period and i had to go to the scary car wash AND kaufland because they have the Good Cereal on sale this week and i thought that would be the extent of my torment for today (and the Good Cereal would be my reward) but NO i didn't even MAKE it to kaufland because there were about a billion cars lined up at the main intersection before you get there so i figured oh it's oktoberfest weekend and some towns are so commited to waging psychological warfare against their inhabitants that they will have some knockoff event and apparently the town i live in is one of those but no problem! i will just take the Other Route to kaufland which is the one over the Bundesstraße so i turn my car around and drive to the Bundesstraßenauffahrt (which means i had to drive all the way back to the car wash and further) and well guess what i fucking see there. that's right a sign that says the Bundesstraßenauffahrt is blocked because they're doing road work there and for some reason they couldn't put the fucking sign up a bit further up the road no it's right where you would make a turn to drive on the fucking thing and they're like. well the road is blocked so follow Umleitung U1 to get around this. so i turn around because i have no other choice and at this point it's dawning on me that there's nothing going on in town at all and all those cars are just there because that's where the Umleitung is leading you so i literally have no way to get to kaufland unless i want to stand in that fucking traffic for god knows how long (becuase the green phase at the street light at that intersection is ridiculously short) so i say fuck it and just drive to aldi instead but at this point it's like 10am so of course the entire towns population aged 60 and up is already congregated there and engaging in their favorite hobby (blocking the aisles with their shopping carts) and also it turns out aldi has the Good Butter on sale this week which i didn't know because i didn't get the newsletter last week for some reason so for a very brief moment i think if i can't have the Good Cereal i will at least have the Good Butter and i feel a flicker of hope which is immediately extinguished because there are 5000 grandmas in the store so of course there is no fucking butter left. and also because there were so many people i had to park all the way at the back of the parking lot so no one even got to admire my shiny freshly washed car and get super jealous and stuff. and all this before 11am in the morning.

[petedriessennewart]

Zumbro Bend/Three Desiring Bodies Opens at Rochester Art Center, Rochester, MN

Zumbro Bend/Three Desiring Bodies

Rochester Art Center

Opening Saturday, November 18, 1-4 pm. Artist Talk 2 pm.

Sinuous Bend Installation /Onofrio Gallery

 Gel Medium Lab/Davies Gallery

 Bait Shop/Nook Gallery

 Sound Compositions by Chooch Karton

In Zumbro Bend: Three Desiring Bodies, Minneapolis based visual artist Pete Driessen installs three separate site-specific works, each a different abstracted fork in the river ecosystem. Titled after the South Fork Zumbro River that winds around the Rochester Art Center, the artist illuminates meandering sociopolitical variants on the river as creative life force, terrain erosion and deposition, land extraction and water channeling.

Through the language of painting, form, and space, Driessen investigates river system topology, land erosion and sediment deposition structures, and the animate quality of flowing water systems. The Zumbro River, a Mississippi River tributary with three separate forks, offers three exhibit positions with distinct material situations.

The first fork, Zumbro Bend, reflects upon the river environments meandering erosion and deposition, with wood, limestone, and mixed media painting. The gallery floor serves as flood plain, with work arranged around the curvilinear structure of a river bend. In the second Gel Medium Lab fork, the artist experiments with gloss acrylic gel medium positioning the river via our human bodily connections to innate desire, creative production, and reproduction qualities. The third Bait Shop fork nostalgically reflects upon the artists locational identity within the water culture of the Minnesota & Upper Midwest through recreational and tinkering structures.

Amidst the duration of the exhibition, Driessen will present a choreographed sound performance with Pooch Karton, writer and artist dialogue, and a limited-edition artist’s book release.

Shows Runs November 18, 2023-March 24, 2024

Rochester Art Center Gallery Hours Wednesday – Sunday, 11 am - 4 pm

Closed Monday -Tuesday, & Holidays

30 Civic Center Drive SE, STE 120, Rochester, MN USA 55904

www.rochesterartcenter.org      info@rochesterartcenter.org

Image: Pete Driessen © 2023. Line/Template. Dry rock protection wall construction east of Rochester, MN. Photographer unknown. Modified digital print. 17 x 24 inches. Courtesy the artist & Olmsted County Historical Society & Museum.

[dream-world-universe]

Tiger Leaping Gorge, China: Tiger Leaping Gorge is a scenic canyon on the Jinsha River, a primary tributary of the upper Yangtze River. It is located 60 kilometres north of Lijiang City, Yunnan in southwestern China. It is part of the Three Parallel Rivers of Yunnan Protected Areas World Heritage Site. Legend says the name comes from a hunted tiger escaping by jumping across the river at the narrowest point, using the rock in the middle. Administratively, the river in this area forms the border between Yulong Naxi Autonomous County of Lijiang City and Shangri-La County of Dêqên Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture. Wikipedia

[destielmemenews]

A fire was also set at a ballot box in Portland, Oregon where three ballots were damaged.

"The Portland Police Bureau reported that officers and firefighters responded to a fire in one ballot drop box at about 3:30 a.m. and determined an incendiary device had been placed inside. Multnomah County Elections Director Tim Scott said a fire suppressant inside the drop box protected nearly all the ballots; only three were damaged, and his office planned to contact those voters to help them obtain replacement ballots.

A few hours later, across the Columbia River in Vancouver, television crews captured footage of smoke pouring out of a ballot box at a transit center. Vancouver is the biggest city in Washington's 3rd Congressional District, the site of what is expected to be one of the closest U.S. House races in the country, between first-term Democratic Rep. Marie Gluesenkamp Perez and Republican challenger Joe Kent."

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[scotland]

The Old Sligachan Bridge, located on the Isle of Skye, Scotland, is a historic structure built between 1810 and 1818 by engineer Thomas Telford. This three-arched stone bridge, with its distinctive humpback design, was originally part of the main route through Skye. In the 20th century, it was replaced by a modern bridge on the A87.

Situated near the Cuillin mountains, the bridge offers stunning views of the surrounding landscapes, making it a popular spot for photographers and nature enthusiasts. The area is also steeped in local legend; it’s said that the waters beneath the bridge possess magical properties. According to folklore, submerging one’s face in the river for seven seconds and allowing it to air dry grants eternal beauty, a tale that adds a mystical allure to the site.

scotland.co

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Three words: Dam removal WORKS.

In fact, it works immediately. The day after the dam removal on the Klamath River was completed, an effort spearheaded by the Yurok and other indigenous people of the area, salmon were seen swimming upstream past the old dam site. It didn't take years, or months, or even days. It took hours.

And now salmon can access plenty of historic habitat that was locked away for many years. This is a huge development, because habitat loss is the single biggest cause of species endangerment and extinction. Every time--every time--we restore a species' habitat, we give them a better chance to survive the multi-pronged environmental onslaught we've been subjecting them to.

Even if that habitat is imperfect, if it offers them food, shelter, and opportunities to safely reproduce. Nestled within an intricate network of relationships with other species that took thousands of years to develop, these salmon now have a better chance of weathering the years to come. Long live the salmon!

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion. 

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy. 

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look. 

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood. 

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction. 

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp. 

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side. 

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle. 

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one. 

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl. 

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal. 

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart." 

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons. 

"Take it off," he suddenly orders. 

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out. 

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach. 

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?" 

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down. 

You're too slow. 

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall. 

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal. 

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going. 

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

[lina-transverse]

Queer discourse on this site of fun cause it just turns into mostly White Queers just saying the same things over and over and no one is capable of understanding nuance or willing to consider the others point of view cause they're more concerned with "winning" the argument. Which is stupid and pointless because arguing is for idiots.

Y'all know we're on the same side right? There's no point in having discussions over 'who the most oppressed' is when it's obviously black and brown queer people, especially transfem black women.

This is a fact.

Do y'all even remember back in the late 2010's when the only time "transgender" or "transfem" trended n this site was when another black or brown sister was killed?

Do y'all even care about them? I've seen tons of posts for Pauly Likens which is great, but where's the outrage for Shannon Boswell, shot to death in the street while police denied said shooting even happened? What about Tayy Thomas and River Goddard, just children who were killed by their partners? Where's your rage for TK Hill, shot outside his hair salon? Or Africá Garciá, homeless and shot to death in a dirty street.

Last year 320 trans people were killed. Three-hundred and fucking twenty.

Of those deaths, 94% of them were transfem/ trans women and over 80% were black and brown people. Many were sex workers or homeless. Lots of them were degendered by the media and police in death. Even more deaths are unreported either due to degendering or their bodies not being found. So many of these people (again, mostly black and brown transfem's) are violated and horrifically tortured by their tormentors.

If your discussion of transphobia doesn't include black and trans people, if you cannot recognize this simple fact, then you're no ally to the trans community.

Community means you look out and support those that are the most vulnerable; it means you show the fuck up and speak the fuck up when you hear racist shit. It means you ABSOLUTELY DO NOT call the cops on a homeless person, it means you look out for those that have less than you, the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. White queers have white privilege! We still benefit from our whiteness (especially in the US) so fucking use that shit!

Get your heads outta your asses and actually be a part of your community instead of whinging and whining and wringing your hands helplessly while ignoring the ACTUAL dangers trans people face.

I'm gonna close this with a quote from a friend of África Garciá that perfectly encapsulates how the world views transfem's.

“A lot of trans women are on the streets and are made invisible because many people believe that their lives are worthless,” LeQueen, a trans artist and friend of García’s, told the paper. “They don’t give them the ‘spotlight’ that they deserve, and those men take advantage of that. They think, If I kill her here, no one is going to care.”

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[groundzerosgirlfriend]

A/n: Just binge watched all three seasons of Dr. Stone and Senku and Tsukasa can do whatever they want to me! Bark Bakrk woof Awooga!

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That revived you in this new stone world with the 'miracle fluid' after gathering a strong enough army, to ensure your safety at all times.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That barely wants his right-hand man Hyoga to be around you unless it's absolutely necessary going out of way to forage, fish, and hunt with you.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sits beside you for quality time as you sew and talk his ear off about everything that runs his mind and although he could spend his time elsewhere, where else would he want to be.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That is still as sweet as he was 3,700 years ago instead of carrying your books to school, he carries any prey you caught, any basket of mushrooms, and any firewood (He doesn't want his gorgeous girl working hard, what type of boyfriend would he be).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That ignores all the other attractive women (much to the disappointment of Minami) in his empire throwing themselves at him much preferring to keep his sights set on you. His one and only.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart breaks as you finally see him firsthand destroy a statue of an older gentleman the crumbled rock around his feet and his gut twisting as your eyes prick the slightest tears.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: Who doesn't follow after you when your quick leave his vicinity not wanting to pressure you into talking to him, knowing how empathetic you are about a lot of things (It's one of the things he loves about you, but right now it's biting him in the ass).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart beats harder than it ever has when comparing it to any of his grueling wrestling matches after a week of silence on your end you sit next to him at the campfire site just leaning your head on his shoulder.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who's about to apologize for slaughtering those statues in front of you and explain his reasoning behind his uncouth action is surprised when you tell him 'You don't mind.'

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who stays quiet with ears open as you express that although you don't like what he's doing, you condone killing innocent people statues or not, but you won't question it or force him to stop knowing it has to be for good reason.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who places his huge hands-on top of yours just giving a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement and thankfulness, because in this moment no words need to be said as the fire crackles in front of you two.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who is now happier than he thinks he's ever been having both you and his newly revived sister free from her dreaded comatose (with the help of Senku) at his side.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who smiles the slightest bit and chuckles softly as he watches from the sidelines you entertain and play with his younger sister grateful that the two of you get along so well and even wondering if one day you would want a family with him. A blend of both of your genes.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sacrifices his life with a spear piercing through his lung at the river side when Hyoga attempts to attack you and Miria. The last thing he sees before he falls into the river is you and Senku reaching out for him in a desperate attempt to catch him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: After his epic battle with Senku at his side he spends his last minutes alive breathing ragged and hoarse with you and the renowned scientist. His head in your lap and holding each other hands as he chuckles at Senku's attempt at small talk.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That whispers out a barely heard "I love you" but before you can even comprehend it and much less respond his eyes softly close, and his breathing comes to a permanent stop.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who unknowingly has you and his sister by his side the entire time he is in cold sleep. Barely leaving the makeshift refrigerator as you tell him stories and talk his ear off knowing that you won't get a response.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who when he's finally revived and healed from what were once permanent wounds hugs his teary-eyed little sister and looks around the cave space for you inconspicuously knowing you couldn't be far.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who finally spots you in the very back of the group your lip quivering as he cracks the softest of smiles and hold his arms open for you to rush into as you cry and snot all over his bare chest comforting you with the fact that he was alive and well now.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who even though was dead for months on end in that cold refrigerator somehow knew that you were by his side the entire time thanking you for never giving up on him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who sits with you on the cave floor simply murmuring low sweet nothings in your ear as you cling onto him as if to make sure he's really alive and well, your head pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating once more.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who says "Let me say it properly this time, my dear. I love you."

Extra: Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who could most definitely manhandle you like a little ragdoll but refrains from it since you've never expressed interest in such rough treatment. But after he tosses you over his shoulder to carry you out the cave without asking in the heat of the moment and hears your delighted giggle, he'll be sure to bring that up with you.

[blueiscoool]

Rome’s Ancient Arch of Constantine Struck by Lightening

During a storm on September 3, lightning struck Rome’s Arch of Constantine, chipping the structure’s marble surface. The 1,700-year-old arch and its neighbor, the Colosseum, were two of several sites affected by the thunderstorm, which produced 2.36 inches of rain in less than an hour. Usually, the city sees a similar amount over the entire month of September.

“A lightning strike hit the arch right here and then hit the corner,” a tourist at the site told Reuters’ Alberto Lingria. “We saw this fly off,” the tourist added while pointing to a fallen block of stone.

Finished in 315 C.E., the Arch of Constantine is one of Rome’s three surviving ancient triumphal arches, each erected to honor a person or event. This arch commemorates Constantine I’s 312 victory over the emperor Maxentius. That same year, Constantine devoted himself to Christianity—the first Roman ruler to do so.

The fierce storm also felled two large trees near the Circus Maximus, flooded the Trevi Fountain and flooded the Colosseum’s subterranean tunnels, reports CNN. After lightning struck the arch, staff of the Colosseum Archaeological Park quickly gathered its dislodged pieces and placed them in a secure location, according to a statement from Italy’s Ministry of Culture.

In the days that followed, some tourists stumbled upon additional pieces on the ground.

​​“My American group found these fragments, and we’re handing them over to the workmen,” tour guide Serena Giuliani told the London Times’ Tom Kington on the morning of September 4.

Specialists are now examining the condition of the fragments. Officials say the damage was limited to the monument’s southern side, where unrelated restoration work had started just days earlier, allowing for quick repairs.

At roughly 70 feet tall and 85 feet wide, the Arch of Constantine contains three separate arches, each framed by columns. The intricately decorated structure is adorned with recycled fragments, or spolia, taken from other ancient buildings, including monuments honoring Trajan, Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius.

The arch is also decorated with carvings of Constantine, including a series of reliefs depicting his victorious fight against Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge.

In 306, Constantine was leading Roman troops in Britain—then part of the Roman Empire—when his military declared him their emperor. His brother-in-law, Maxentius, also declared himself the emperor around the same time. After years of complex power struggles, the two rulers ultimately faced off in 312 at Rome’s Milvian Bridge, which overlooks the river Tiber. Panels on the Arch of Constantine depict the battle’s conclusion, showing Maxentius’ troops drowning in the river.

The arch’s recent encounter with lightning may have carried spiritual significance for its ancient builders, as “the bolts were believed to be the work of the gods,” per the Times. These spots were sacred for the Romans, who sometimes erected temples at such sites.

By Sonja Anderson.

[ardienothesieno]

where is the most likely place for a bunch of iterators, slugcats, and ancients to all hang out and take a selfie together?

a wallmart parking lot, of course. and yes i misspelled that on purpose

tumblr has absolutely killed my image quality hgvcvghjjhb so clicking on it will hopefully make it look less terrible this was supposed to be finished a while ago but IM JUST GLAD I ACTUALLY GOT IT DONE. IT'S DONE. FINALLY.

a few weeks ago i decided that i wanted to give back to my favorite people on this site. my friends, mutuals, the people who inspire me. everyone who has made my venturing onto this website and into this fandom the absolute highlight of my year. i wanted to have a way to say thank you to the people who motivate me to keep creating. so. thank you, everyone. whether i included a character of yours in this drawing or not, thank you. thank you all for creating what you create, for the chaos that you cause, for being so kind. i love you all so much.

CHARACTER LIST (32 in total) Ashes from Above -- me! The Fidget & Spectrum of Colors -- @pookapufferfish Four Shiny Reeses Wrappers & Butternut -- @kakyogay Looks to the Moon design -- @ssagesaurus Anthro Monk design -- @draagu Lingering Fog -- @mothsakura Eight Crashing Tides -- @dustyfandomtrashbin Paths Left Untaken -- @fauxbia Sliver of Straw design -- @skybristle Ancient No Significant Harassment design -- @tanzytechgem Reluctant Abstinence -- @copepods Saturn's Foley -- @csavii Adamant Dune -- @druidshollow Three Star Songs -- @skyistheground Curtains Drawn Over Bone -- @bitsbug Unparalleled Innocence design -- @shkika Three Sparrows -- @spotsupstuff Anthro Artificer design -- @pansear-doodles Flickering Nightfall -- @flickering-nightfall Somnium of the Deep -- @stratusstormcloud Five Pebbles design -- @lyss-butterscotch Distant Frontier -- @daszombes Original Seven Red Suns & Spearmaster designs -- @faelingdraws Eleven Rivers -- @druidshollow Chasing Wind design -- me again! Smoke Upon Droplets of Rain -- @mothsakura Rot x Enot x Lizard Polycule -- @excessive-moisture

[door]

more queer houses!

Klovharu Summer Cottage by Raili Pietilä for Tove Jansson and Tuulikki Pietilä

1964-1965, Klovharu Island, Porvoo Archipelago, Finland

Tove Jansson and Tuulikki Pietilä spent every summer in this cottage for nearly 30 years. Tove chose the site by camping on various places on Klovharu, and they designed it with Tuulikki's sister-in-law, based on a fisherman's cabin on the island of Pellinge. It lacked electricity and running water, and if guests arrived, Tove and Tuulikki would give up the bed and camp outside. the cottage is a single room, with a cellar underneath--for food storage and a small sauna--built into the rock. the cottage is now an artist residency--with the original interiors preserved--but can be visited during one week in July. More about the cottage. Interview with Raili Pietilä. Tuulikki's films.

Hangover House by William Alexander Levy for Richard Haliburton

1937, Laguna Beach, California, USA

Hangover House, or Halliburton House, was designed by William Alexander Levy (he later dropped Levy from his name) for celebrity explorer Richard Halliburton and his ghostwriter and lover Paul Mooney. Supposedly, by the time the house was completed Halliburton and Mooney's relationship had expanded to include a third: Alexander himself. The house was built of concrete, with large public rooms and three small bedrooms, one for each of the men. Sadly, Halliburton and Mooney were lost at sea in 1939, and Halliburton's family sold the house and buried all references to his queerness. The house still stands today and is a private residence. More images here.

Azurest South by Amaza Lee Meredith 1938, Ettrick, Virginia, USA

Azurest South might be the first International Style home to have been built in Virginia, and instead of in a wealthy white enclave like you might expect, it's located just off of the campus of Virginia State University, an Historic Black College/University. it was built by pioneering artist, architect, and educator Amaza Lee Meredith for herself and her partner, Dr. Edna Meade Colson. colson was the head of the education department at VSU, and meredith was head of the art department (which she had created in 1930). we know from her scrapbooks that meredith was looking at european designs and experimenting with them in the house. the result was something unlike everything around it--flat roofs, glass bricks, bright paint and tilework inside--an antidote to traditionally conservative virginia architecture. azurest south today belongs to the vsu alumni association. it is not open to visit, but has received increased attention and grant funding over the past few years, so it may well be someday! More about Meredith as architect. More about Azurest South. And more! (additionally, if you're near richmond va there's an exhibition about meredith & azurest south at the institute for contemporary art until march 9 2025)

Six Acres by Mary Imrie and Jean Wallbridge 1954-1957, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

Mary Imrie and Jean Wallbridge were partners in work and life, establishing the first all-female architectural firm in Canada. in the 50s, they built a house to serve as their home and office along the banks of the north saskatchewan river and called it "six acres" after the size of the lot. they traveled enthusiastically and widely (pdf) and were avid outdoorspeople. like a lot of women architects at this point in the 20th century, they were largely relegated to residential commissions, which they found frustrating. that said, they gained a reputation for helping clients who were struggling with construction costs by encouraging gatherings of friends and neighbors to assist with the work, something they had hands-on experience with, having assisted in the building of their own home. the house is still standing and is now the office of the alberta land stewardship centre. timeline of their lives and careers. more about the house itself.

Finella by Raymond McGrath for Mansfield Duval Forbes c. 1850, renovated 1929, Cambridge, England, UK

Mansfield Forbes was an english don at clare college, cambridge. in 1928 he leased a victorian home called "the yews" and spent the next year working with Raymond McGrath (previous seen here) to transform it into a modern fairyland, named in tribute of Finella, a 10th century Pictish queen. the interiors were a celebration of new materials--there were floors made of induroleum (wood and asbestos powder), walls painted with iridescent cellulose paint, something called copper plymax (??), and the entry hall had a vaulted ceiling covered in glass panels backed with silver leaf. forbes intended it to be a gathering place of sympathetic minds, to host salons in celebration of modern art and architecture in a setting a queer and future-looking as he himself was. unfortunately, he vastly overspent in outfitting Finella, and when he died suddenly in 1935, the contents of the house were auctioned off. Finella is still part of Cambridge and houses fellows of gonville & caius college. the college recently restored the hall, which can apparently be toured on specific days. interior photos from 1929 and 2004.

112 Charles Street by Eleanor Raymond 1868, renovated 1922, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

When Eleanor Raymond began work on 112 Charles Street, it had recently had the front 10 feet sliced off to allow for the widening of the street, so her renovation was essentially a reimagining. eleanor designed the house for her mother, who had her own apartment, as well as eleanor herself, her sister rachel, and her partner ethel powers. the three of them shared a floor. powers wrote for the magazine House Beautiful (and would go on to be its editor) and featured the home three times. in the largest feature on its interiors, she emphasized that since it was a home of three business women, it needed to be "self running." raymond would go on to design and build much more modernist houses, and the conservative appearance of this one might be due to how early in her career it was (she graduated from her architecture program in 1919), but i think it's more likely that she was aware of the necessity of appearing somewhat inconspicuous in her surroundings, as a queer woman with a career. read more about her work here. and here.

[manessha545]

Machu Picchu, Perú's Sacred Valley, Peru: Machu Picchu is situated above a loop of the Urubamba River, which surrounds the site on three sides, with cliffs dropping vertically for 450 metres.

[kafkaesquegf]

urgent help!

The following Palestinians have all approached me seeking financial help during the ongoing genocide. I will be donating to each of these campaigns, and I highly recommend that my followers donate to one or more of these if able. Life in a warzone, especially an active site of genocide, is expensive. Every cent counts.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free!

Help my family to get out of Gaza - @ahmed79ss

Ahmed and Sahar, evacuees in Egypt, have been separated from their children who remain trapped in Gaza. Their eldest, Walaa, suffers from Type 1 diabetes and desperately needs access to insulin. Help Ahmed and Sahar reunite their family! Vetted campaign. Current funding level: $10,637 CAD/$50,000 CAD

Helping the Helles family achieve a better future - @ahmeadhilles & @ahmedhelllis

Ahmad Helles is supporting a family of 20, many of whom are young children. They have lost almost everything and have been forced to live in subhuman, unsanitary conditions. Vetted campaign. Current funding level: €6,350/€80,000

Save Gaza: A Brighter Future for Aya and Her Family - @ayaanqarsblog

Aya and her husband Jihad are a young couple living in Gaza with their three children: Abdelrahman (7), Jori (5), and Adam (2). Their family home has been destroyed. Vetted campaign. Current funding level: €8,818/€15,000

Help Imtsal and her family have a better future - @d-imtthal

Imtithal is a dentist from North Gaza who has lost her home, her job, and her brother Obaida. She is supporting a family of 35, many of whom are young children. Not vetted, but donations are protected and images are original. Current funding level: €2,562/€50,000

Bone Grafting Operation for Muhammad & House Reconstruction - @atalah-mohammed

17-year-old Muhammad Atalla was shot by an explosive bullet in February while carrying aid from the Nablusi Roundabout. In order to make a full recovery, he will require a bone graft outside Gaza. Additional funds will go to the reconstruction of the Atalla family home. Vetted campaign. €12,125/€82,000

Help Asmaa to continue school outside of Gaza - @asmaamajed2

Asmaa is a 19-year-old student of Computer Engineering whose promising academic career has been derailed by the current assault on Gaza. She needs to evacuate herself and her family so she can continue her education. Vetted campaign. Current funding level: $3,119/$50,000

Help Fidaa and her children - @fidaa-family2

Fidaa is a 29 year old mother of two young children, one of whom was born during the ongoing assault. They are currently living in tents in Mawasi Khan Yunis. Vetted campaign. Current funding level: $11,861/$30,000

Urgent aid ! Help to fight starvation for an extended family - @mahmoudayyad

Mahmoud Ayyad is supporting a family of 43 in Gaza, many of whom are young children and elderly women. They are living in unsafe conditions and need money for essentials as well as evacuation. Vetted campaign. Current funding level: €2,419/€100,000