Elephant - Sri Lanka

The Sri Lankan elephant is one of 3 recognised sub-species of Asian Elephant. Since 1986 the Sri Lankan elephant has been listed as endangered. During the 1990′s, many elephants were killed by landmines that were left during the countries armed conflict. Today, the main cause of the decline in elephant numbers is due to an increasing human population, and the resulting expansion of infrastructure into previously un-occupied land. While the ivory trade is not a large industry in Sri Lanka, some trade still occurs. 

Sri Lanka has set up safety zones for elephants, by creating protected areas for elephants to live, and working with local communities to learn to live alongside the elephants. 

Stay with me Part 7

Jimin x reader

Genre: Angst, romance, school au, new girl, bad boy, school gang activity.

Warnings: gang like activity, partying, strong language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, smut.

Word count: 2231




With every beginning there is an end.

With every push, there’s a pull.

My pull towards you is strong.

But where is my push?

Is it caught in a catastrophe of words and phrases?

Is it at the bottom of this colored glass?

Or has our beginning not even begun?

With every beginning there is an end…

I’ve begun something.

I want my push that will lead me to your pull…

With every push there is a pull…

And with every dream…

There’s an awakening.

Keep reading

Undead appeared after a particularly powerful Old Lord was slain in battle and the gift of life and resurrection was given to the people on the battlefield, slain and destroyed. Their essences flew back to them, and consciousness restored. It’s harder for an undead to be created from a fleshy body, just because the body is fighting it’s soul coming back in. Rotted/mummified bodies are much easier to resurrect. Also, souls can return to a body and have the body added to by other corpses without souls, and be modified, armored, and experimented on with relative ease. Thus, undead can grow to enormous sizes. Undead can also smell when death draws near, and some civilizations/communities use undead as hounds to sniff out the survivors of battles.
Undead culture is heavily based off of ways to keep busy. With time being a relatively un-important concept, being occupied and for one’s efforts to not go to waste are most important.

Undead, or “second-timers” as some refer to them, obsessively collect things; henceforth, they’re unburdened by fashion fads and the popularities of time period. They will often layer many sets of clothing scavenged from battlefields, as they are want to do. Undead find solace in welcoming new bodies to the afterlife.

This particular individual is what’s known as a “Reaver”, one who (usually) harmlessly picks through the spoils of war and battle for hidden riches that even corpsmen won’t touch.

Not As Good, But Greater

“She’s just not as good as Natalia or Wanda…”

Not As Good, But Greater 

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes

It was an amazing morning, the bitty cinnamon haired avenger stretched her sore muscles, her soft coco colored hair looped itself in curls as it bounced over her round ass cheeks and her smile so wide her perky whites are on full display.

She loved Friday mornings, she always spends the whole day planning dates with the free avengers that roamed the building.

Last week, Sam and Natasha were free, which just so happened that (Y/N) had won three tickets to six flags, she thought it was a match made in heaven.

The week before that, Steve and Tony were un occupied, leaving the three adults to go visit the zoo.

And so on so forth. The young lady continued to gather her breakfast bowl, cereal box, Milk jug, and her spoon. She was smiling to her self as she tried to get the last ingredient, the sugar. She was fairly short. So as she tried to hold everything in one hand the other hand was trying its best to grab the sugar that was placed in the way back. Just as she was about to give up, a dark and cold figure came behind her and snatched the sugar, handing it down to her with a simple grunt. She turned around to thank whoever it was, but stopped when she saw Bucky was rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“What’s the matter Bucky?” She asked sweetly, placing all her breakfast next to him. She then placed a hand on her teammate, before he shrugged it off quite aggressively.

“I have a last minute mission.” He grumbled angrily. He was so tired and out of it, the small girl knew he didn’t get any sleep last night judging from his eyes, but it’s not like she could do anything about it…

“Here, have breakfast.” She stated happily, poring him a bowl of cereal but kept the sugar can open so he would apply how much he liked. “Good morning Bucky,” Then she dipped her head and slightly grazed his stubbly cheek with her puckered lips. His posture stiffened, but went unnoticed by the giver  

If she could have a great Friday morning, then so should Bucky. The super solider always held a soft spot in her heart. (Y/N) would do anything to see him smile.


“Go low,” Bucky hollered, having about enough from his new teammates stubborn attitude, “I said low!” He barked in the com, after her figure disappeared from view. He shoved his gun behind his back before clasping his pocket knife. He walked slowly into the halls, stopping before every door until he was sure there wasn’t anything lurking behind them.

“(Y/N) where are you?” Bucky asked, slamming a door shut once he finished inspecting inside of it.

The com was static from his side, he knew then and there his teammate was in trouble.

Serious trouble.

If Buchanan wasn’t old then, he sure was now, all thanks to his partner who is a stubborn mule. That didn’t even listen to anything he said, he was the captain in this team, he was the one in charge. And yet the only girl who was suppose to follow him through the jaws of death had decided to follow the yellow path that her mental mind conjured.

Non the less, he continued to walk softly, the ghost in him never once leaving his traces behind.

James opened the last door, labeled ‘The Lab’ once he pushed in, he found the girl lying on the ground, her locks sprawled behind her, her face bashed in like some inflated balloon, her arms tied down with her feet. She looked unconscious, maybe even dead. Just how long had they caught her…?

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” Bucky hummed, then untied her hands and legs before pulling her bangs from her face, he gathered it all, then tied it down with the spare hair tie she had around her wrist. Barnes then Bent down and picked her frail broken body over his shoulder like a sack of potato. Once her weak form was thrown over his shoulder a small drive fell from her clutched paws.

“At least you got what you were suppose to get.”  With that said, he grabbed the chip and then made his way to the waiting chopper.


It was a few hours since the mission was over, the young avenger was excited to know that they had made it home alive, still basking in the feeling of Friday. Nothing could or would ruin a Friday in her book.

She had exited the medic bay with much ease, she had a black eye, a sprained wrist but else then that she was in great shape to binge watch new series in the living room with who ever had the day off.

Like that, she showered, and gathered all the candy and chips the kitchen owned, her hands were hurting from how much she was holding, but stopped walking once she heard voices.

It was like an instinct. Something telling her it wasn’t right, and she should just listen. She was behind the couches in the living area. Steve and Bucky arguing together on the couch while Steve flipped the TV.

“-All I’m saying is,” Bucky grumbled, “She’s just not as good as Natalia or Wanda…” Bucky finished, running his metal fingers through his locked while he slumped back on the couch.

(Y/N) felt numb, everything she was holding had fell to the ground. As well as her pride. A fresh sheet of tears coated her once warm chocolate pupils, everything then stood still once Bucky had turned around and locked gazes with the young avenger He stood up abruptly, fear written over his face, but she wasn’t going to have any of it. She flickered her eyes to Steve, before taking off and running to her room.

The man who she always wanted to feel good, the man who she tried hard to get a smile from, the man who she wanted nothing but happiness for, had just compared her to her female partners, Natalia and Wanda.

Her heart constricted, while sadness burned her chest. She was disappointed, running away from Bucky who was hot on her trail.

"Doll, Wait!”

Her bare feet patted the ground quickly as she tried her hardest to move past an on coming Sam.

“Sam, Hold her-”

But she made it, pushing past the Falcon as she entered her room and locked herself in.

The last thing her eyes landed on was a worried Bucky just in arms reach.

She locked herself in. Didn’t let anyone enter. Because how could she, how could she come out that door with a smile plastered on her face when she was just now stabbed by the man she had harbored feelings for. The same man who compared her to the two most powerful women known to mankind, and said she wasn’t as good as them.

But around dinner, she exited the safety of her room, freshly dressed and washed, hair pinned in a messy bun as she classed one of Tony’s Iron Man shirts with her fuzzy red socks.

She walked down the hall, already knowing that the whole team would most likely already be in the kitchen serving food on the table. So she walked on, occasionally stopping near one of the mirrors to check herself. She applied light foundation, to conceal her puffy eyes. She knew she was beautiful.

“-Pass me the salt.”

She neared the kitchen. But stopped once she was a foot away. The place was awfully quite. As if a very damp towel draped over the teams mood. She figured everyone had figured it out by now, and we’re very sad or disappointed in Bucky.

“Hey guys!” She cheerfully sang, attracting the attention of the team. They all looked at her in amazement.

“That’s my shirt!” Tony broke, he knew if she was acting happy he at least needed to act normal. For her sake he though. “Give me my shirt back!” Everyone burst out laughing as the said girl took the only empty seat beside James and Steve. She giggled with everyone else, while she secretly eyed Barnes.

“It looks better on her.” Sam joined, with an agreeing Bruce. “She’s smoking!”

With that, the whole team went back to normal, except Steve and Bucky. The latter wouldn’t even pick up his gaze from his plate never mind move a muscle.  And Steve was just eyeing his friend the whole time. As if analyzing every step.

“Where did you even find that I’ve been looking for it for weeks.” Tony asked after a while, they had started to gather the dishes and place them in the washer. The whole group picked up interest on the question.

“I found it in my drawer.” She answered truthfully, twirling around to show off the shirt that dropped to her mid thighs. “Don’t worry I’ll give it back.” She mumbled.

After a while, the whole team started to head to their respected rooms. Leaving the only broken girl alone on the couch. She signed sadly, closing the TV she went ahead and dragged her self to her room passing Bucky’s in the process. From under his door the light was shining brightly, so she thought he was up again.

The urge to ask if he was fine was very strong. But the sudden hurt that bubbled deep in her stomach and mid chest had won over. He called her out, said she wasn’t as good as Nat and Wanda… who knows what else he could have blabbed if she didn’t drop all the candy in her arms.

Locking her door she broke down sliding near the mahogany wood and curled up in a ball, her slight chocked sobs rocking her body.

Imagined of Natalia’s swift movement and steady skills flashed in her mind, while Wanda’s amazing skills and speed came. She knew she wasn’t as great as them, she had just tried to help her friend Bucky that morning.

He looked miserable, and tired so she thought if she had helped James in his mission he could spend the rest of the day with her, watching the new movies that are now being aired. Albeit her plans had taken a sudden turn. She no longer wished to even see him, or hear him speak.

A soft knock vibrated through her door. She didn’t move, just silently let the tears stream down her cheeks. She didn’t care who it was out there, but hoped the message was sent.

“Open the door Dollface,” his voice was like a snake, innocent and swift, but deep down its fangs clung into death.

She didn’t move, even tried to hold in her breathing.

“Open the door sweetheart,” He cooed, tapping the wood lightly, “I can see you from under the door.” He tapped again, “I’m going to break this door down,” He then grabbed the knob tightly, shifting it from side to side before he pulled with one huff. The door splinted in half, the girl already standing up anger seeping out from her.

“What’s your problem!” She cried, punching his chest, “Go away,” She changed, her fists now pulling on his hair, “Can’t you see I don’t want to look at you?” Pushing him away was hard, so he stood in place watching as the women he hurt ran around her room grabbing a spare bed sheet and hung it over the door with a streaming face.

He stayed in place, he stood there begging for forgiveness. And when the sun rolled around, and she peaked out to start her Saturday morning she came to a sudden stop, the man still in his spot. Frozen, wanting to explain.

“I’m sorry-”

“Not now,” She concluded, pointing to his room. She didn’t care, she didn’t want him near her, she wanted space and time…

Although he wasn’t having any of it, instead he dropped to his knees and brought her down with a hug, his face buried deep in her chest, while he held onto her tightly muttering apologies, “Your not as good as Natasha or Wanda, but greater Doll,” He chanted, wiping the tears that streaked her cheek. His voice was out of tune, but sincere non the less…

“I’m sorry please forgive me, darling…”

Stay With Me Part 12

Jimin x reader

Genre: Angst, romance, school au, new girl, bad boy, school gang activity.

Warnings: gang like activity, partying, strong language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, smut,

Word count: 2367

Previous } {next}



With every beginning there is an end.

With every push, there’s a pull.

My pull towards you is strong.

But where is my push?

Is it caught in a catastrophe of words and phrases?

Is it at the bottom of this colored glass?

Or has our beginning not even begun?

With every beginning there is an end…

I’ve begun something.

I want my push that will lead me to your pull…

With every push there is a pull…

And with every dream…

There’s an awakening.


Keep reading

Just Acting chapter2 of ?

So, this ended up being like two times bigger than I had expected, so I had to cut out a few things and push them over to the next chapter. 

Rating: T (for language basically)

Summary:In a moment of confusion and panic to avoid going out with Jane, Carlos tells her that him and Jay are dating. So him and Jay come to an agreement. They weren’t dating, or fake dating. They don’t do dating. They do arrangements. This was their fake arrangement. No feelings. Acting. Totally just acting.

Keep reading

Preference 20 | (SMUTTY) Romantic beach date.

Authors note; Spent a bit of time on this one. Hope you enjoy!

Malia had not been to the beach in a very long time, so she was very excited the entire car ride. Stiles had planned the entire afternoon for them on the beach, and was desperately hoping that everything would go smoothly. Once arriving at the beach, a large smile plastered itself onto Malia’s face, and she was quick to jump out of the jeep and run to the water. “Wait! Malia, you can’t swim with your clothes on! Remember, this is why we went shopping before we left?” Stiles called out. Malia looked at him with frustration as he had interrupted her excitement. Stiles just laughed and watched the blonde begin to strip herself of her clothes, her bikini already on underneath.

After playing in the water for several hours, Malia and Stiles had their own little picnic. Stiles made a note to pack finger foods, as he knew that Malia was not a big fan of silverware. Malia finished eating one of the sandwiches before glancing over at Stiles, and noticing something. ’Since when did he get abs?’ She thought. Gazing up to her boyfriend’s face, she watched him shove an entire sandwich into his mouth. A small giggle escaped her lips, and Stiles stopped chewing to look at her, “What?” he said with a mouthful of ham and cheese. Malia smiled at him, before leaning over and pressing her lips lightly against his. He gazed down at her with wide eyes as they kissed, and his cheeks puffed out from the sandwich he had in his mouth.

After kissing him until she was breathless, Malia pulled away and gave him an innocent smile, “You’re cute.” she spoke. Stiles gulped down his sandwich, only to give her a goofy smile after. “I don’t know why you decided to be with me, Stiles, but I’m glad you made that decision.” Stiles looked at her like she was crazy, “Me? I should be asking you that!” Malia laughed at this. Stiles reached over and brushed some loose hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” A blush crept up onto her cheeks, and she immediately looked down to hide it. Stiles chuckled at this, before reaching his hand over and tilting her head back up so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t bow your head, princess, your crown might fall off.

Malia looked into his eyes, a short laugh coming from her lips. Stiles smiled at her, before leaning down and introducing his lips to hers. The kiss soon became more passionate, and Malia found herself biting on his lip, begging for more. Stiles let her in, and shocked her by pressing his tongue into her mouth and dominating everything. Before he knew it, Malia was on top of him, rubbing his shoulders and the sides of his face. Stiles felt her hips come forward to grind against his, and a groan escaped his mouth. His large hands trailed up her thighs and clutched onto her ass. A gasp escaped her as Stiles’ right hand came up and quickly came back down to smack her left butt cheek.

Stiles reached his hand up and untied her bikini straps. Malia couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face as Stiles flipped them over, so that he was now on top. “Why are you smiling, huh?” Stiles smirked as he trailed kisses down her neck. Malia couldn’t help the giggle that emitted from her, “That tickles!” Stiles laughed before working his way to her collarbone; and another gasp. “And that feels good.” she let her head fall back as Stiles suck on her collarbone, knowing very well that the world would know that she was taken after sucking on that soft patch of skin for a few minutes.

Stiles worked his way down her stomach, and stopped just above her bikini line. “Hey, no teasing!” the blonde stated as she looked down at her boyfriend. He looked up at her and smirked, “Fine by me.” he pulled down her bikini bottoms, before removing his own swimming trunks. Leaning down, his tongue found it way to her center, and she arched her back at the sudden touch. “Oh my God, Stiles.” she called out. “Baby, you’re already so wet, and I just now touched you.” he smirked as she glared down at him. “I know, no teasing!” he smirked. Malia reached over to her bag and pulled out a condom. Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. “oh, like you didn’t think we would?” She gave him a flirtatious smile. Much to her disapproval, Stiles took his time in sliding the condom on to his erect member, before leaning down and kissing her lips sweetly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Malia got into the kiss; that is until he pushed himself into her.

Oh shit!” She called out. Stiles laughed at this, and went slow until she adjusted to him. They have had sex so many times, he can’t count remember the number, but she is still so tight. “You like that, baby?” Stiles whispered into her ear before placing chaste kissed across her ear lobe. Malia breathed out in complete sanctuary, closing her eyes as Stiles began to pick up his pace. “Stiles…” was all she could say, but it was all he needed to hear. He picked up his speed even more, thrusting his now throbbing erection in and out of Malia. “Oh God Stiles… I..” “Do it, baby. Come for me.” he breathed out. Stiles closed his eyes as he felt her walls tighten in on him. Malia gasped and rolled her eyes back, as the tightness in the middle of her stomach was finally released. “Fuck…” Stiles exclaimed as he met his release soon after hers. He slowly pulled out of her, and discarded of the no longer useful condom. Malia smiled at him and pulled him back to her, kissing him deeply. “We totally just had sex on the beach.” she laughed. Stiles smiled at her; they really did, didn’t they? The beach was completely un-occupied, but it was still kind of funny how they didn’t care if anyone saw them. Stiles raised an eyebrow at Malia, and gave her a well known smirk.

What?” Malia looked into his eyes with a smile, pretending not to know what his facial expression meant. “Wanna go again?” Malia let out a laugh, “Stiles?” “Yeah, baby?” “I have sand up my ass.

IMO “reactionary” is, as put succinctly here, often understood in a way that lets other non-reactionary racist/colonialist ideas and projects off the hook. Under this understanding of history, there has been the class war in the form of first aristocratic and now capitalist domination, and now we are faced with the nascent beginnings of The Revolution which has already begun to push us into a new and higher form of life, supposedly without domination. Against that force pushes The Reaction (hence reactionaries) which wants us to undo those changes and go back to probably ultimately aristocratic domination, but capitalist domination might stick around in some form too.

I think this is reflective of a flawed Enlightenment conception of history as a) coming in tidy, orderly stages, b) Europe being the center of everything, and c) history being framed around the experiences of White people, especially colonizer classes of White people without labeling them/us as colonizers.

If we view “reactionary” as a meaningful group of diverse adherents to various ideologies, I think it’s worth looking at how they can be fitted together. I’d argue that today, in which fascism is widely held at arms length even by people who quite easily embrace what most people see as synonyms (”national socialism” but also “extreme nationalism”/”hypernationalism”), in many parts of the world, “reactionary” politics have mutated into an at times unrecognizable form.

The supposed fall of fascism in WWII I think can be historically credited with a variety of noticeable changes - the solidification of “normative” relations at the UN (replacing the ineffective League of Nations and before that largely unorganized international relations), a commitment to at least lip service towards anti-colonialism and anti-racism (made visible in the wave of independence movements and movements like the Civil Rights Movement after WWII), and ultimately the appearance of a patchwork of anti-heterocispatriarchal liberation movements in numerous social spaces.

It’s easy in light of all that to think of a state-centered fascism as having retreated into a backwoods libertarianism that calls for withdrawal from the “occupying” UN, a return to colonialism and White supremacy within privatized spaces seized from an at least nominally anti-colonial and anti-racist state, and one preoccupied with its ability to maintain heterocispatriarchal “traditions” within those same privatized spheres. That lends credibility to a Revolution-Reaction view of history, doesn’t it, with them shrinking back as Revolutionary Progress moves forward, further solidifying its hold over international and state institutions.

It’s a flawed way of thinking still, however, as meeting spaces like the UN simply centralize and institutionalize those same oppressive and imperialist dynamics. It weeds out or at least discourages overt versions of them (like the US invasion of Iraq in 2003), but it doesn’t actually oppose them. It messily interprets the words of its agreements, justifying interventions it wants and illegitimizing them elsewhere. Perhaps one of the most terrifying examples of this is its (quite justified) censure of Kony after initially promising Ugandan activists that it would censure him as well as president for life Museveni on counts of ethnic cleansing and torture. The selectivity reveals that what the UN now does is not prevent the wide swathe of state-sanctioned violence and imperialism it was designed supposed to, but to generally prevent the loudest examples (ie: honest to god empires) or upstarts (the Konys of the world), leaving behind a class of potentially colonialist, imperialist, capitalist states too entrenched and too careful to get caught.

I think I can just throw out headlines practically - the water crisis in Flint, the continuation of US policy towards reservations and reparations even among Democrats and other “left” parties, homonationalism - to note that policies and ideologies that would be difficult to connect to “reactionary” politics in the same way as libertarianism, ones that even frame themselves in contrast to “reactionary” politics and libertarianism, continue the global patterns of colonialism, racism, and heterocispatriarchy. Maybe those can still be characterized as “progress” and the infinite series of steps to Heaven on Earth straight out of the Enlightenment and taken up as a symbol by everyone from Marx to Theodore Roosevelt, but it’s one that doesn’t seem like a meaningful opposite to “reactionary” politics when it comes to a lot of the fundamental issues at stake - who lives, who dies, who rules themselves, who rules over others.

In the end, The Revolution (as articulated by many, I wouldn’t say all actually) and The Reaction seem often to be more similar than most want to admit. Labeling one set of ideas about how society can and will progress “bad” and “backwards” doesn’t change the fact that both sets of politics want to radically upend things, often in ways cut from the same clothe of colonial knowledge. For people who have pretty unimpressive ideas about their Revolution, focusing on the Reaction, and really intently labeling it as movement backwards is a useful tactic to gloss over the ways that you’re not changing things much either.

Having typed this all up, honestly what I’m reminded of more than anything else are the Effective Altruists, people who think they’ll end poverty by just being rational for once about philanthropy and related forms of assistance. That whole mindset is based on a kind of reading of everyone else in bad faith - of them not “being rational” about these things, about them not wanting to “change the world” “for the better”. Those are all platitudes, ones that I think virtually everyone shares pretty much around the world. The actual meaningful questions I think are about what is “rational” what is “change” and what is “better”. Building up a philosophy, an ideology, an identity even that even just sometimes avoids answering those questions because you’re the one who just Is Rational, will Change the World, and want things to be Better, and justifying it by viewing another factions changes as just being Irrational, and about Going Backwards, and making things Worse is kind of, well, pointless I think.

I have to go to work, which I’m running late to now (Thanks Discourse), but someone else elaborate on this as you want.