#←french major for 12 years

[hkthatgffan]

The image used in the background of the Gravity Falls logo HAS BEEN FOUND!!

It's located in France!!

I made a thread on Twitter explaining the full story and how I even asked Ian Worrel and Alex Hirsch about it, but lemme run down quickly how it was found and where it is!

After 3 years of searching with some friends on and off, we had no real luck. I've been working on a video about it for a while but decided to try one more time. My friend @trickengf suggested looking at international logos as they may have more of the image available and sure enough...we found logos like the Japanese and Russian GF logo had more visible detail of the image.

From that, Tricken made a remake of the image and used it to find it. He ended up finding the source at about 3AM for me, lol!

My friend Fried Oreos then confirmed the image was old enough to fit the criteria of pre GF pilot, by determining the image was on the Textures website it was sourced from since 2008!

Then, my friend Alex M managed to buy the HD image and we were able to analyze its metadata for more info!

Turns out, the image, called "LandscapeMountains0009," was taken by a Nikon D70 camera on April 18, 2007!

THE GRAVITY FALLS LOGO IMAGE IS ALMOST 18 YEARS OLD!!

From there, we began looking for the location. The meta data had no location, but other images taken around the same time showed signs of maybe the location being in Europe.

After over a day of searching, Tricken, Alex M and Oreos FOUND IT!!

The location of the image is a mountain range near the town of Sers, France...near the border with Spain.

Exact coordinates of the closest viewable angle of the image is 42°54'23.2"N 0°06'05.6"E

This is a major discovery and one I cannot believe we did. While this search was started by me in 2021 with some friends, it was TrickenGF, Alex M and Fried Oreos who deserve all the credit for this discovery! They were the geniuses who tracked all of this down and were able to connect the dots to get to this point.

You guys are amazing and I am beyond grateful for all of this.

Finding this image means that fans can now recreate the Gravity Falls logo as they want with anything they want. For example, Tricken made this for me using the image :D

Or, you can do this, lol

We now have it!

For 12 years as we looked at the Gravity Falls logo...we were in reality looking at a mountain in France...NOT Oregon!

So, I guess this is a major W for France but sorry, Pacific Northwest, Gravity Falls is actually French, lol!

I still can't believe we found this. I'm so happy :P

[the-bibrarian]

I see a lot of incomprehension online about our pension reform and the anger it generates in France, and what it often boils down to is "why are they so angry, 64 is plenty young to retire?"

I don't agree, but even if I did I would still oppose the reform. Here are some of the reasons why:

We already need 43 full years of work and tax contributions to be able to retire. Which means college-educated people were never going to retire at 64 anyway, let alone 62. This reform is aimed at people who start working early, mostly in low-paying jobs.

There's very little provision made in this law for hard/dangerous/manual labour.

There's no provision made for women who stop working to raise their children (51% of women already retire without a "complete career," which means they only retire on a partial pension, vs. 25% of men).

At 64, 1/3 of the poorest workers will already be dead. In France, between the richest and the poorest men, there's a 13 years gap in life expectancy.

Beyond life expectancy, at that age a lot of people (especially poorer, non-college educated) have too many health-related issues to be able to work. Not only is it cruel to ask them to work longer, if they can't work at all that's two more years to hold on with no pension

Unemployment in France is still fairly high (7%). Young people already have a hard time finding work, and this is going to make things even harder for them

Macron cut taxes on the rich and lost the country around 16 Billions € in tax revenue. Our estimated pension deficit should peak at 12 Billions worst case scenario.

While I'm on wealth redistribution (no, not soviet style, but I think there should be a cap on wealth concentration. Nobody needs to be a billionaire.): some of the massive profits of last year should go to workers and to the state to be redistributed, including to fund pensions. The state subsidized companies and corporations during the pandemic, Macron even said "no matter the cost" and spent 206 Billions € on businesses. Now he's going after the poorest workers in the country for an hypothetical 12 Billions??

Implicit in all of this is the question of systemic racism. French workers from immigrant families are already more likely to have started their careers early, to have low-paying jobs, are less likely to be college-educated, more at risk for disabilities and chronic illnesses, etc., so this is going to disproportionately affect them

This is not even touching on the fact that he didn't let lawmakers vote on it, meaning he knew he wouldn't get a majority of votes in parliament, or that 70% of the population is against this law. Pushing it through anyway is blatant authoritarianism.

TL;DR: This is only tangentially about retirement age. The reform will make life harder for people with low incomes, or with no higher education, for manual workers, for women—mothers especially, for POC, for people with disabilities or chronic conditions, etc. This is about solidarity.

Hope (sincerely) this helps.

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 |

63 |

64 |

65 |

66 |

67 |

68 |

69 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[javigutierrez]

Are you alright, Honey?

Javi Gutierrez x afab!reader oneshot

Summary: You’re going on a long weekend with your gorgeous new boyfriend, and after a day of unresolved sexual tension out on a roadtrip you’re ready to jump him the second you get home. Unless he finds a movie at the gas station he had been looking for for years and he wants to watch it with you. Will you be able to mask your desire for him, to enjoy a movie that means so much to him? (Spoiler alert no you won’t)

Rating & Word count: Explicit | ~8500 words

Warnings/tags: fluffffff, freshly established relationship, pining like whoa, very explicit smut, f!oral, f!fingering, tons of nipple play, non-penetrative sex (sumata ig?), unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, allusions to squirting, pleasure dom!Javi vibes, tw alcohol, tw food mention, Javi is a major dumb of ass but he makes up for it, reader has female genitalia, some boobs, and long enough hair to tuck it behind their ear but no other descriptions (let me know if you find anything else!), no age references

A/N: Here it is, after years of contemplating I'm posting my first fanfic in 12 years and my first fanfic in English ever. Please be kind, English is not my first language ❤ This is a huge thing to me, and I wouldn't have been able to get there without the help and encouragement of my lovely friends - I owe a kidney to @psychedelic-ink and @shellshocklove for their tremendous help as my betas, and to @iamasaddie @perotovar @chronically-ghosted @wannab-urs for listening to my bitching and moaning along the way and still staying my loyal cheerleaders 🥺 The whole idea popped into my mind like a movie while editing this gifset (which was inspired by @prolix-yuy’s Javi story, so special thanks to LJ 🥰), that 5th gif corrupting my mind for the next 2,5 months and this was the only way I could finally get it out of my system. 🤡 I hope you'll enjoy it! ❤

This was quite an eventful day. You spent your whole day out with Javi, having a road trip at Côte d’Azur. After a little bit more than a month of dating you had decided to go on a long weekend together, choosing the French coastlines. You had been absolutely amazed by the experience; clear azure waves embracing golden shores, the streets of seaside towns winding through history with beautiful architecture and warm colours, mountain tops lurking on the horizon behind the town. After Javi had told you he would get you into the Cannes movie festival, you were already talking about coming back for a few days. 

The sights were unbelievable and the food was delectable, but what really made the trip unforgettable was your new boyfriend. Spending time with Javi was so easy. With him, all your anxiety washed away - his sweet and caring personality was like a soothing balm for your soul, and with his fun-loving side, you really felt like living your life to the fullest. Not to mention how he showed his true colors in the bedroom. Absolutely devoted to your pleasure, he could be worshipping you, making you feel like a goddess, other times he would make you beg, then shower you with praises while he was giving you exactly what you needed. Who would have thought only a few weeks before, when​ you had started chatting with a stranger waiting in line at the cinema, that he would sweep you off of your feet almost immediately and turn your life upside down in the best way possible? 

There you were right now, coming home from another amazing day spent with him, laughing with him, staring at his profile while he was driving, smoothing out his sun-bleached locks tangled up by the wind in the cabrio while he was looking at you all doe-eyed and dopey-smiled. You were holding his hand, feeling his hand on your bare thigh, resting at the hem of your bunched-up sundress comfortably and sometimes you had caught him looking at you with the same intensity. It was safe to say, by the time you got in the car to get home you were ready to jump him. 

There was only one tiny thing you hadn’t calculated for when you had been planning your night (or rather imagining it dreamily from all angles): finding a DVD at a gas station. When his eyes fell on the item, he’d looked confused for a few seconds, but then taking it from the shelf and reading the cover his face lit up like a child’s in a candy store. 

As it turned out, it was an indie French movie he had watched with his parents back when he was young and they had been on a holiday. They had rarely spent quality time together, so he cherished those few occasions he’d felt like he belonged to an ordinary, loving family. He remembered the time fondly and he always wanted to find the movie because of the nostalgia of it all, but he had forgotten the title and didn’t know the actors, so after a lot of unsuccessful attempts, he’d given up trying. 

“Can we watch this tonight? Please?” He looked at you with big brown eyes, enveloping the DVD in his hands, (dwarfing it, really) and pressing it to his heart. And how could you say no to him? If he looked at you like that, you would have agreed to watch a 10-hour-long film about paint drying on a wall. 

“Of course, Javi,” you smiled at him gently, your heart melting from his child-like joy as you watched him gallop to the cashier to pay for the gas and the DVD. You pushed the slight disappointment of not being able to climb this gorgeous goofball of a man as soon as you get home, to the back of your mind. 

At the end of the day, you were genuinely happy to just spend time with him. You blamed your hormones and the fact that you were still in the honeymoon phase for being pent up all day. You couldn’t help it, but you are a big girl in an adult relationship, you decided, you can have one night without having sex with this tall, broad, gentle but surprisingly strong, passionate, generous, highly skilled–

“Let’s go!” he urged you with an adorable grin and shining eyes, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the gas station. Your heart swelled from the sight. Yes, you can have a peaceful night if it makes him happy, and you will be just as hyped to watch the movie as him. It did seem like a good movie based on the cover, and you knew it meant the world to him, so you wouldn’t spoil his fun with your neediness. 

By the time you got back to your rented house, it was already dark, and the early autumn weather had gotten a bit more chilly. Javi practically jumped out of the car (but still rushed to your side to open your door). 

You agreed that you would prepare the snacks and set up the TV, while he would start the fireplace and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. He gave you a soft peck on your lips, one hand resting on the back of your neck, then he pretty much ran to the cellar - you think you even heard him giggling on his way. His enthusiasm was infectious, even though you’d never even heard about the movie before, now you were excited to watch it.

When you found out how to get the DVD to work Javi was already tinkling with the logs on the fireplace, a bottle of wine with two glasses on the kitchen counter already. You let yourself get lost in the sight for a good minute, your cavewoman brain activated by looking at him focusing on his task with his arms flexing, but then you shook yourself from your reveries, going to the American-style kitchen to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and wash some grapes, then putting the wine on the coffee table next to the couch.

You couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at him. His short-sleeved shirt was now unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders and your eyes fell on his white tank top straining over his torso. He seemed especially broad like this, and you couldn’t wait to cuddle with him and bury your face in his chest, kissing over the constellations of freckles on his shoulders and chest you were so familiar with by now.  

Once the fire was lighting, he looked at you proudly and you beamed back at him. The more his eyes were on you, the more his look grew softer. His gaze full of adoration made butterflies whoosh in your stomach - you were overwhelmed by emotions for this man, sometimes it even made you scared of falling too hard. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with watching this movie tonight, cariño?” He asked tenderly, his voice raspy and deep. He walked up to you to put his hands on your waist, caressing you with his thumbs and lowering his head to really look into your eyes. “I know these four days are supposed to be about the two of us.” There was no hurt or any malice in his voice, he was ready to drop the plan the second you said so. It felt like he was staring into your soul and suddenly you felt guilty. You obviously didn’t try hard enough to support him if he felt the need to ask and that made your guts tie up in a knot. You put your hands on the sides of his neck, then lowered them to his shoulders, then his chest. You never broke eye contact.

“Honey, I’m absolutely sure. We had a long day so a movie night is perfect to wind down and this movie seems super interesting! I swear, I can’t wait to start it already!” You rose on your tiptoes and laid an innocent kiss on his lips. He didn’t let you go, holding your face to deepen the kiss and a zap ran through your body as his tongue slipped between your lips to taste you. 

You felt his little huff on your upper lip, and you couldn’t resist the quiet moan that escaped your throat. The sound somewhat sobered you up, and you broke the kiss, feeling a little dizzy. He opened his eyes slowly, looking a bit disheveled himself. You had a mission to accomplish, you couldn’t get distracted all the time… you went back up just to give a small kiss on the tip of his nose, which made him smile bashfully, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Come on baby, let’s start it!” 

You grabbed the snacks, but he took them from you with a kiss on your temple, and you both headed to the couch. He put the snacks down on the table and plopped down on the L-shaped furniture as you went on a quick round to light some candles around the room, bathing it in warm colours. You started with the candles in the back and as you worked your way back up you caught him pouring wine into your glasses, then he started to explore the menu of the DVD to set up an English subtitle. With a small sigh, you allowed yourself to indulge yourself in his sight one last time while you were finishing up the candles. 

He quite literally took your breath away. His lovely locks you adored to bury your hands into so much, his eyes sparkling from the TV’s light and crinkled with a smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on his face. Your eyes followed the curve of his prominent nose and fell on his lips under his neat mustache. Those pouty lips... you had some vivid memories involving them. The man might look innocent, but he sure knew how to do sin when he wanted to. 

He leaned back with his legs propped up and reached out to you. You climbed on top of him and nestled yourself into his chest. He held you close to him, situating himself so you were sitting between his legs, resting your back on his chest. 

“Ready, cariño?” He hummed into your neck, pressing a small kiss there. Your blood sizzled under your sensitive skin. 

“Never been more ready! Let’s go!”

Javi started the movie and scooted even closer to you, if possible. Strong arms resting on your stomach, caging you in, he nuzzled your neck with a low hum, leaving a trail of kisses up your jaw, finishing with the softest of kisses on your cheek. You felt intoxicated, despite the untouched glasses on the table. His warmth was making your whole body melt, the way his chest rose and fell rhythmically behind you soothed you, and his cologne filled your nostrils with something warm and spicy and citrusy. But below all those layers it smelled uniquely like him, perfectly complementing his perfume. You would recognize it anywhere, after so many times of tasting his skin all over his body – it was the perfect concoction.

He was none the wiser about your… rather delicate situation, eyes glued to the screen, hands absentmindedly caressing your hips and stomach. You tried to focus on the movie, and you were able to catch glimpses of it and laugh at the jokes, but his touches kept distracting you. More often than not you caught yourself looking at his sinewy forearms, the golden watch on his wrist, and the ring on his pinky catching on your dress from time to time. You slowly traced the veins on his arms, and as you tried to focus on the screen again you played with the edges of his watch and ring. He gently caught your hand, intertwining your fingers and raising it to his face for a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Some wine?” He murmured sometime later. 

You were grateful for the opportunity, slightly going mad from the tension as you were stewing in your juices. He barely finished his question, you were already leaning for the glasses, handing him one. “Oo-kay,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm, albeit a little confused by your behaviour. He paused the movie and sat up at the corner of the couch. You were still between his legs, but you both positioned yourself to turn to each other more at the corner. His left hand held the glass, and his right was on your waist, keeping you close to him. His eyes were glazed over looking at your face and you could only imagine how ridiculously smitten you must have looked like. 

“For this perfect day, and for the unexpected gifts it has brought us,” he said, raising his glass. 

“For this perfect day, that is about to get even better,” you answered, making him grin with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

You clinked your glasses and raised it to your lips, him barely tasting the wine through a sip, while you downed the whole glass. Leaning back against the backrest of the couch, you tried to look put together. The taste really was divine, and you had hoped it would help to calm your nerves a bit. Javi was visibly amused looking at you.

“You liked it, huh, cariño?” He asked, getting your glasses and putting them on the table leaning over your legs. 

You giggled in response, smiling shyly at him with a small shrug, “It tasted amazing, Javi. It was a great choice.” 

“I knew you would love this. Say the word and a box of these will be at my house by the time we get home,” he said, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears and kept his hand on the side of your face. 

“Consider it said.” You winked at him and he breathed out a silent laugh, but he tilted his head a little with a small frown between his brows, seemingly inspecting you. You had a feeling you had looked a bit nervous, only because you’d tried to clumsily mask your desire for him, wanting to give this night to him to enjoy a movie that meant so much to him but… you clearly weren’t succeeding. You knew he was about to ask you about it, so instead you grabbed the remote before he could speak. 

“Shall we?” You asked nonchalantly. 

His hand dropped from your face. “Of course,” he said. 

He shook his head a little, failing at figuring you out as he leaned back on the couch. You laid down in front of him so you could continue watching the movie while he spooned you, and pressed the play button. You’d hoped that with this new pose, there would be less temptation as you’re not laying on him anymore, but boy, were you wrong. 

He hoisted you closer to his body, his hand splayed out on your stomach, and kept you there, almost protectively. Staring at it, you dumbly wondered about how much smaller your torso looked under his hand than your own and that activated something primal in your mind again. You felt his crotch pressed up to your ass, and though he wasn’t hard, it made your cunt throb around nothing. It was so close, yet so far, and you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. Your guts twisted, and you wiggled every few minutes, pressing your thighs together, uselessly fighting the arousal that kept getting more and more suffocating. 

A few minutes later he nuzzled at the back of your ear, and the combined sensations of his breath in your ear and the soft tickle of his mustache and stubble made a shudder run through your body, followed by goosebumps everywhere.

“Are you alright, honey?” He murmured, looking at your profile. 

“Of course, Javi,” you said, not very convincingly. “Just trying to find the perfect angle.” You explained as you wiggled some more, still staring at the TV, as your thumb gently smoothed across his knuckles to soothe him. 

“Right…” he replied. 

Whatever he thought, he didn’t say anything else. 

However, a few minutes later the hand that had been on your stomach slowly wandered down, below the hem of your sundress, and he gently, but firmly lifted your thigh to fit his between your legs. The movement was so unexpected that you couldn’t hold back a small groan from the pleasure the friction gave you. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Javi asked innocently behind your back, his hand now smoothing over the bare skin on your thigh, leaving an electric feeling beneath your skin in its trail. Every single one of his touches made arousal pool between your legs. You silently cursed at your body for growing more and more sensitive, begging for him to come closer. 

“Yeah…” you practically squeaked. You were close to your breaking point. 

Javi only hummed, his hand stopping to rest it on your stomach again. You were fighting your instincts to rub yourself on his thigh for a few minutes, and you were proud of yourself for resisting, but then he moved between your legs a little, enough to give attention to your aching clit, and the hiss that escaped your lips made him come to a halt. 

It felt like the time froze for a few seconds, none of you daring to move. You, trying to take back control over your treacherous body, and him obviously assessing the situation. You mentally did a facepalm as you felt your wet underwear sticking to his pants. He didn’t say anything, but his hand moved down from your stomach and bunched up your skirt. He breathed out your name, almost admonishing, and it made your heart jump. His hand was dangerously close to where you wanted him the most, and as his palm covered your mound, thick fingers reaching your soaked panties, he buried his face in the back of your neck. 

“Oh, honey…” he choked. He took a deep inhale, smelling your scent, then suddenly sat up and paused the movie. 

“No, Javi, I was watching it!” You wanted to wince at yourself, your act was truly ridiculous at this point. 

“None of that, cariño.” He shook his head, turning you on your back with a firm hand on your hip. “You obviously need me, please let me take care of you.” 

“It really can wait, I don’t mind!” You protested. You wanted nothing more than for him to touch you, but you didn’t want to be selfish. 

“Well, I don’t want to wait!” He declared, his gaze burning you as it fell from your face, scanning your body splayed out in front of him. “What about this: I eat you out, then we can continue the movie. Would that be okay for you?” 

You stared at him like a deer caught in a headlight. Is he serious? But his words definitely affected you. 

“Please, cariño,” he continued in a gentler tone, his pleading eyes finding yours again. “Let me eat your pretty pussy, now.” 

That was the last nail in your coffin, you swore under your breath as you almost went cross-eyed from his words only. “Fffuck, okay… okay let’s do this” you croaked after a few seconds, your defenses crumbling like a house of cards in a tornado. 

“Atta girl,” he smirked, and in an instant, he was on top of you. 

His fingers found their way into your hair as he put his lips on you, the press of his body a comforting weight on you. His kiss was electric, hot, and sensual. He sucked your lips in with a primal hunger, his tongue licking against the seam of your lips, opening you up to him and claiming your mouth with dominance. You barely noticed the soft sounds coming from your throat, only when you felt the corners of his mouth curl up slightly in a smile. You felt like you had to anchor yourself as you gripped the back of his open yellow shirt so hard, it was protesting against your ministrations on his shoulders. 

“Mmmtake—this—off,” you whispered desperately against his all-encompassing kiss. 

Javi leaned back, his hair disheveled, to practically tear the shirt off of himself. With a huff through his nose, his eyes gazed at your kiss-swollen lips with hunger. You were out of breath from the intensity of the kiss, panting softly as you took in the sight of him. 

He still had his tank top on, your mouth already dropping from the show. His top only accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist, and his skin kissed by the firelight was glowing in a golden light, its colours and the way the lights and shadows exaggerated his features made you drool. You could never resist the freckles on his shoulders and chest either. If you weren’t already on the edge of insanity, you would spend hours kissing and biting along his torso, but now clearly none of you had the patience for that. 

He came back to you and started suckling on your neck, one of your hands flying to his back to weakly trace the ridges of his shoulder blade, while the other clutched his bicep. Keeping up his ministrations on your neck he gently bunched up your dress above your stomach. His thigh found its way back between your legs and this time you bucked your hips up shamelessly. He groaned as he felt your wet warmth staining his pants and his lips traveled lower. As he trailed your collarbone with the tip of his tongue between his lips, two of his fingers touched you through your panties and you moaned out loud. 

“Javi, please!” you whined as he trailed his middle and ring finger up your seam, and tapped on your clit through the soaked textile. You were so worked up, you felt your heart pounding in your ears. 

“Shhh cariño, I got you,” he murmured, his voice impossibly low and his breath burning your chest. 

His fingers never gave up, but he always kept his touches light, making you throb uncontrollably. You watched him move lower, and you couldn’t decide what to stare at: his lips and tongue molding against your fevered skin, or the dips and hills of his shoulders and biceps flexing as he kept himself up with one arm while torturing you with the other. He traced his tongue around your navel and he looked up at you as he licked over its valley, his fingers mimicking the movement below. He then had the audacity to send you a cheeky wink as your whole body shuddered.

“Fuuuck, stop teasing me, I can’t take it anymore!” you sounded pathetic, but you didn’t care at this point.

“Okay, baby. You earned it.” 

He consoled you quietly with a final kiss to your lower stomach, before hooking his fingers into your panties to slowly drag the piece down. If it was anyone else you probably would have felt awkward about how the fabric protested at first, sticking to your cunt, but with Javi, if anything, you felt powerful. 

He was visibly trying to compose himself as he gently helped you get both your legs out of the ruined piece and with a shaky exhale he scooted back. He shove a cushion under your ass as he laid down on his belly, navigating your thighs over his shoulders, eyeing your center with blown-out pupils. 

“I will never get used to this,” he mused to himself with wonder in his voice, as he splayed his hands across the crease of your ass to softly spread your cunt wide open with his thumbs. You felt his heavy huff on your pussy, and it made you twitch again. He looked captivated by the sight.

“Javi, I swear to go—oohhh my god,” Javi cut you off as the flat of his tongue licked a broad and firm stripe through your folds with a depraved moan.

Your whole body lifted up, and he hooked his arms around your legs, grabbing at the top of your thighs as he held you down, keeping you close to his ravenous mouth. He gave you a few greedy laps, slowly exploring all of your cunt before his tongue lazily went around your hole. Your muscles were twitching, your chest and neck aflame, and if his sight weren’t so hypnotizing you would have thrown your head back already. You felt boneless. 

Your abs shaking from the strain of keeping you upright, you grabbed a few cushions you could reach from your position, and shoved them under your head, angling yourself perfectly to watch him at work. He was licking at you tirelessly, mapping all your sensitive spots, before he started to fuck you with his tongue, slowly but deliberately grazing your walls all around. 

You let out a raspy moan at the sensation - he was the first person who had ever done this to you and you were still surprised by it every single time. The feel of his agile muscle prodding at your sensitive flesh made your vision blur and sweat gather around your temple. He went as deep as possible, and after an inhale he buried his nose in your clit, slightly moving it left and right. You felt him everywhere as if he was surrounding your entire body. One of your hands grabbed a cushion so tightly, it made your knuckles ache, your other hand finding purchase in his soft locks. 

You were scraping his scalp with your fingernails, and he practically purred, the sounds vibrating against your raw flesh, starting a fire in your guts as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You couldn’t help pulling at a handful of hair as your pussy spasmed around his deft tongue. His purr turned into a growl as he removed himself, gulping some air still a few inches away from your cunt. Your hands lifelessly plopped down around you. 

“Fuck, cariño, I won’t ever get enough of you,” his speech was slurred like he was drunk and he looked up at you with disoriented eyes. “You taste so good, I would happily drown in you.”

You wanted to react, you really did, but as he was talking one of his hands left your thigh and traced an invisible pattern down the apex of your thighs, fingers traveling through your cunt and gathering your juices, then reaching their destination, a thick digit slipping into you just when you wanted to answer him. Whatever you wanted to tell him, he rendered you speechless with literally a swipe of his finger. The cracking of the fire and the slick sounds of your pussy were the only noises around you, until you felt his mouth on you again. He lapped up the juices escaping you around his finger, sucking on your lips with obscenely loud noises. You wanted to cover your face because you suddenly felt self-conscious, but his free hand grabbed your wrist as you heard him call your name brokenly. 

“Please don’t hide away from me, I want to see your face as I bring you pleasure,” he pleaded, his accent a bit stronger than usual. 

The mere look of him was debauched, all messy-haired and shiny-faced, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Your heart skipped a beat, and you held onto his hand, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your knuckles immediately. Your other hand smoothed his unruly hair out of his face, and he went back, keeping eye contact with you. 

“Look at me,” he rasped one last time before diving in.

He dragged his tongue up between your folds as his finger started moving again. He looked up at you the entire time from under his lashes, eyes half-lidded. As he reached your clit you jumped a little, and he opened his mouth wider so you could see his tongue moving against the tortured little nub with a small wiggle. You had to compose yourself not to let your eyes roll back, the sight somehow multiplying the already devastating sensation tenfold. 

“You’re so fucking good to me, Javi,” you uttered, caressing his hair and you could see a shiver running down his spine. “I’m so—so—“

“I know, mi amor, I can feel it. Let go for me.” 

He groaned and sucked your clit into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. You squealed, not knowing if you wanted to escape from his ministrations or let him consume you. You tried to trash around but his hands came up and covered the bottom of your stomach, holding you down again. You had half the mind to notice him slowly grinding onto the couch, but then you felt his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, along with his finger rubbing that perfect spot inside you again, and you felt like a lightning struck you. 

All your muscles seized up as white-hot pleasure coursed through your veins. At first, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone make a sound, but then a groan tore out from the depth of your chest and you fell back on the couch lifelessly. Javi never let up licking at you, prolonging your catharsis, not stopping even when you tried to squirm away from oversensitivity. 

“No, no wait—“ you pleaded with a shaky voice to no avail. Everything was too much, but you couldn’t escape from his iron grip. Javi greedily explored all your sensitive spots around your swollen vulva and hole with firm strokes, before he found the button of your clit again, sucking on it harshly dragging you under the waves of ecstasy for a second time that night with a squeak. His mouth was sucking at you relentlessly through the helpless spasms of your body, draining all the energy from you and filling your brain with fuzzy cotton. You fell back limply, muttering nonsense while his mouth gently cleaned you up.

You had no idea how long you were just laying there uselessly, basking in the afterglow with Javi still between your legs. His face rested on the plush of your thigh, his breathing slow but heavy, his eyes closed and his hands flexing. 

Once your wits came back to you, you noticed a faint dent on your thigh from Javi’s ring, a thought of how you wanted to tattoo it on your skin filled your mind – to keep it there forever. 

You played with his hair again, curling a silky strand around your finger by scraping little circles on his scalp. As if you woke him up from a stupor, he looked up at you, breathing now almost normal, but his pupils were still blown out. He wiped his face on your inner thigh, then kissed and sucked off the remnants of your wetness there and you giggled, his facial hair tickling you. He crawled up your body with a smile across his face, before he laid next to you. You immediately followed him, decorating the hot skin on his shoulders and collarbone with lazy, open-mouthed kisses. He weakly pawed at your waist to bring you closer to him, then dragged the bottom of your dress over your thighs to give you some decency. 

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he pondered and gently pinched your ass. You snickered as you playfully swatted his chest, before laying your head on his pecs. His heart was beating wildly and it made you swoon, so much so that you had to lay a soft kiss between his pecs, just above the hem of his top before nuzzling even more into his blushed chest, as a content sigh fell from your lips. Your gaze couldn’t help but fall to his bulge - he was visibly affected by your previous endeavors. 

“Javi…” you whispered in his neck, while your hand gently caressed his stomach. You felt his heavy exhale under you. “If you want… we can continue…” 

“Oh! Of course, cariño!” he said, perking up, reaching out for the remote control and pushing the play button again, eyes immediately glued on the screen. 

You laid there, having a mental tantrum. Well, things weren’t going the way expected. How can he still be thinking about the movie? 

Squashing that ugly disappointment down, you turned in his arms to try to focus on the TV again. You weren’t allowed to complain, he said he would make you cum and you would continue the movie, and he did just that and more. You couldn’t help the ravenous hunger you had for this man though, it was never enough of him. You laid a soft kiss on his bicep below your head and your arm reached behind to gently shove him back against you. He followed you diligently, but he tensed as his bulge, now hard, rested against your ass again. 

“I’m sorry honey, I’ll just need a minute,” he apologised quietly, voice strained from embarrassment and barely veiled desire. 

The devil on your shoulder took over you as you rolled your hips against him slowly but deliberately. The filthy sound coming from deep in his chest melted your bones, making it hard to keep back your own needy whine. 

“Wh—what are you doing?” 

His strong grip on your hip felt like a warning, but his voice was so weak. That’s what made you throw all your culture out the window, giddy roiling in your guts from feeling him get fully erect against you. You barely registered your hand moving mindlessly, grinding your palm against him. His hand clenched around your forearm easily, but he didn’t move it away. 

“I need you, Javi,” you begged shamelessly, turning your head back in his direction as much as possible. 

“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes closed shut with a loud gulp. When he opened his eyes again his gaze was intense, one of his hands cradling your face as he propped himself up on his elbow to look deeply into your eyes. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie…” 

That made you freeze with confusion, even your hand stopped moving over him. 

“…me?” You asked incredulously. “I mean yeah, it does seem like a great movie and I’d happily watch it any other time, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with you the entire day. I’ve wanted to eat you up since we crawled out of bed this morning. But I’m happy to do anything as long as I’m with you– and you looked so happy to find that movie… I don’t know… I just didn’t want to ruin your joy with my neediness, I guess” you confessed hastily with warm cheeks. 

A soft sound of surprise got stuck in his throat as he looked at you with saucer eyes, gaping like a fish. It looked rather comical if you were honest. If you didn’t feel so sheepish about your clumsy confession, you would have giggled at his expression. 

He shook his head lightly, as if processing your words. “So that’s why you were acting so weird tonight!” He exclaimed, relief evident on his face. He breathed out your name softly, his thumb caressing your face ever so gently. 

“I felt the same way the entire day. I got distracted by finding the movie, I give you that, but up until that moment, I was contemplating taking you in the bathroom in every single place we visited. Even in the car, consequences be damned,” he huffed, and you had to clench your thighs to alleviate the need growing between them again from the mental image. 

“Cariño, I have the DVD now, I can watch it whenever I want!” He tutted, “I swear, one day I’m gonna write a screenplay for you to be the lead in it, you’re such a talented actress. You seemed so eager to watch this movie that I felt guilty for trying to distract you,” he smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear with a chuckle, “I suppose both of us were fools…” 

You couldn’t hold back a rather unsexy snort at that, but it made him beam at you with crinkling eyes. 

He cupped your jaw and leaned over to press a sweet kiss on your lips, but it immediately grew hungry. The stark difference between his precious face and the taste of yourself still on his tongue made a shudder run through your body. 

Javi can really do both, you thought dreamily, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he rolled you on top of him and deepened the kiss as he slowly sat up, helping you to position yourself on your knees around his hips. He planted his feet on the couch and grabbing your bare asscheeks firmly he dragged your pulsing center down on his bulge. 

Your hands flew to his hair, arms resting on his shoulders, feeling like passing out when you felt his cock twitch against your bare pussy, tearing a low hiss out of him. He bunched up and gripped your dress around your torso. 

“This little dress was teasing me all day,” he groaned, slowly pulling down the zip on your back, the edge of his thumb caressing your bare spine in the process. “It looks fantastic on you, honey, but I need to see all of you, right now.” 

By the time he finished his thought, he already tugged it off of you, your breast jiggling in front of his face from the impact of falling out of the secure hold of the dress, his heavy gaze falling to them immediately, your body now bare in his lap. 

“Oh god, look at you… tan bonita,” he murmured as his hands slid over your ribs firmly, before they slipped under your breasts with a feather-light touch. 

He cupped the mounds gently as his thumbs smoothly explored the skin. The pad of his fingers traced your areola, then softly rubbed over your sensitive nipples. You arched your back, leaking some more wetness on his trousers as you rubbed yourself heavier on him. One hand molded a breast into his waiting mouth, tongue wiggling around the achy nub and the other slipping down your shivering stomach, across the top of your thigh and teasing at your seam across your ass. 

The suckling sensation on your nipple, while his hand was prodding teasingly at your swollen entrance made you go insane. You had to center yourself around something. You clasped the back of the couch tightly, using it as support as you pushed your chest more in his face. Without hesitation, you vigorously moved your clit against his bulge, your head arched back in ecstasy.

His wrecked moan was the prize, your breast slipping from his lips as you watched a tremor course through his entire body. Once he came back to his senses he doubled down his efforts, nuzzling the other breast and sucking the pebbled nipple in his hot mouth. 

His tongue started to swirl around the hardened nub at the same time as two of his fingers drowned in your slick pussy, finding your most sensitive spot with devastating accuracy. Your mind went blank, and your gasps came out in hiccups. Your instincts took over as you were riding his bulge with trembling legs, chasing your blinding pleasure. You only had enough wits to sit back to undo his belt, ripping off his fly, and with his help, you were able to push his pants down his thighs, freeing his erect cock.

His hand grasped the base and gently tapped it against your sensitive clit, and your hips started moving again, trapping his length under your pussy as you continued to slide over him. He softly bit on your nipple in response which blazed off fireworks in your lower stomach, his other hand never stopping its brutal pace grinding against your most sensitive spot. You were so close to cumming you could practically taste it on your tongue. 

“Feels so good—,“ your voice was desperate, and he let out a wrecked moan around your breast. 

The soft pulling sensation, coupled with the warm, wet caresses of his mouth on your nipple, the expert touch of his fingers on your g-spot, and the tantalizing friction of your clit rubbing against the ridges of his cock, quickly sent you spiraling into a world of ecstasy and pleasure. You came with a wail, your back arching and eyes rolling back. You faintly felt Javi’s hands at the base of your back and along your spine, keeping you close to him while his eyes feasted on you falling apart for him. You fell back on his shoulders, weakly grasping at his elbows as his palms caressed your back and he showered your neck with small kisses, humming quietly between them. 

“You did so well, you’re fucking amazing,” he breathed against your skin, as you felt your pulse slow down a bit. He kissed a path down your sweaty chest and came back the same route. After some blissful peace, you felt his cock twitch against you and you whined. 

“Do you have one more in you, mi amor? We can rest,” Javi asked gently, his eyes searching for yours. 

Bless his heart, he made you come three times and he would finish the night here and there, hard as a rock. Your body was still buzzing and you felt sore from his thick fingers but one look at his sinful state was enough to get you in the mood again. 

His lovely locks were now sticking to his face, the perspiration on his chest only making him glow even more. His mouth was agape, plush lower lip kiss-swollen, and his dark eyes silently pleading with you. Instead of giving him an answer, you gripped the hem of his tank top and peeled the offending item off of him as he held up his arms, helping you and keeping his lustrous eyes on yours. 

Resting your hands on the top of his chest you kissed down his neck, between his collarbones. Sitting back lower on his legs, you could trace your tongue between his pecs and down to his soft stomach. You couldn’t help but kiss around his little belly, giving him a playful bite which made him jolt with a small laugh. Your finger traced the soft patch of hair below his navel, and understanding your silent request, he kicked down the remaining of his clothes while you kneeled on the side. 

You were fascinated as you watched his cock in all its glory, shiny from your juices, precum already leaking from the angry, red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you were already in motion to have a taste for yourself when he stopped you, gently putting his hands around your arms. 

“It pains me to stop you, but the second I feel your mouth on me, I would be a goner.” His husky voice was layered with desire. “C’mere, I need to be inside you,” he added, and you almost jumped on him. 

You crawled back over his hips while he pumped his cock a few times, his veins bulging in his cock and forearms. It was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen and you filed the idea for later exploration. You went lower on him and he smeared his member over your slit, covering him in your juices generously again, then he prodded the head at your entrance. 

“Come on, cariño, let me feel you, please,” he growled, and you carefully descended down on him. 

You were over quite a few nights with him, but your pussy still struggled to accommodate his size, especially now that you were still sore and sensitive from earlier. The struggle felt like a pinch and you whined, but he cradled your face and kissed your forehead. 

“It’s okay honey, take your time,” he whispered and let you take the lead for the moment. 

He caressed everywhere he could reach. He sucked two fingers into his mouth and lead them to your clit, ever so slightly drawing circles around it. At first, it felt like a needle stab, but a few seconds later it turned into pleasure. You swallowed more of him with a quiver. You felt so full, even though you were still a few inches apart from sitting down completely. 

His tongue found your breasts again, laving at the skin with bites and kisses alternating between them, tongue chasing your puffy nipple with confident laps. When he sucked in your soaked bud to bite down on it your cunt bottomed out, swallowing his cock entirely as a fresh wave of slickness coated his base. He tore away from your glistening nipple, burying his face between your breasts with a heavy groan. 

“You’re so fucking tight around me,” he rasped into your damp chest. “You were made for me. And your skin is so fucking silky.” 

Just to prove his point, his greedy tongue made its way up your chest, across your neck and jaw and to claim your mouth in a hedonistic kiss, as his hands grabbed the meat of your ass; not to force you to move, but to ground himself. 

The kiss was a little clumsy, but no less toe-curling, his tongue exploring your mouth and teeth clashing as you started to rise and fall against him. You felt so full, as if he was in your guts. Your lungs burned as you felt more and more overwhelmed by the inferno in your body. You broke away from him only to lay back, hands grabbing his shins while continuing to move up and down on his cock. 

The new angle was exhausting, but it rubbed your insides from just the perfect direction, and your vision blurred from the sensation. From this angle he had the best view of his cock disappearing in your puffy cunt, then appearing again, covered in your juices. Javi was hypnotized by the sight, his mouth dropping, and eyebrows knitted tightly together. 

“That’s it, use me, just like that,” he grunted, trapped under your spell over him. 

Heavy-lidded eyes followed your every move, and as he reached out to touch your overworked clit again your thighs started to tremble so hard that you couldn’t continue gyrating against him. He swore under his breath as you throbbed around him another time, and you leaned over his body to grab his shoulders. 

He prompted you to rise higher on your knees above him as he secured his feet on the surface of the couch. One arm braced himself next to his torso, while the other slipped up your back to grab your shoulder from the back, and he started to pound into you mercilessly, stealing your breath. You could barely stay in place, so you grabbed the backrest of the couch as you felt tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. 

“Are you close, baby? I’m so close but I need you to come first,” he strained, seemingly every muscle in his body tensing from the exertion.

He looked like a sculpture of a deity from ancient times, especially when his head fell back, the thick column of his gorgeous neck on full display. You could only nod, not being able to even form a coherent thought anymore as your desperate whines became constant. He raised his head again - he couldn’t keep his gaze away from where you connected, his face almost looked angry from the concentration. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, rub your clit for me,” he roared, and you followed his order immediately. 

Almost as soon as you touched your clit, you started shuddering violently with a loud and raspy cry, tears running down your face as he kept grazing your g-spot with every powerful thrust. You felt possessed as your entire body short-circuited, and your ears started ringing. You faintly registered his load painting your walls as your throbbing core milked him dry, his growl echoing in your ears. 

You collapsed on him like a ragdoll, your sweaty bodies colliding as he kept you close to his chest. As you came back to your wits a few minutes later you felt raw and weak and vulnerable, but it was okay because Javi was there, embracing you with strong arms and gentle kisses across your face, swiping away your tears. His body was like a shelter as you clung to him with all your limbs and he kept you safe from whatever was happening outside of your bubble. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his hand smoothed over your hair while his body swayed you gently. 

“I’m… I’m more than okay,” you croaked, still feeling boneless as you weakly clasped into his body. “Thank you, this was a spiritual experience.” He huffed a small laugh at that. 

“You are incredible,” he cooed. 

You lazily nuzzled deeper into his neck with a hum, letting his scent calm your frayed nerves down. You stayed like that, limbs intertwined for a while, before Javi reluctantly pulled out of you, making the both of you groan as he gently helped you to lay on your back and he hurried to the bathroom in all his naked glory. 

He came back soon, but that little time was enough for you to realize that your thighs and mound were drenched. That explains the out-of-body experience. 

Javi sat down next to you, a warm and wet washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up with reverence, eyeing the marks he had left over your body. He seemed worried, but you wore them with pride.

“That’s very kind of you, but I think we will need to shower anyway,” you smiled bashfully, and he placed a smooth kiss on your forehead.

“I wasn’t sure if you had enough energy for that,” he rasped.

“If you help me, it won’t be an issue,” you sat up slowly, your coordination akin to a newborn foal, his hand held out to help you to stand. 

“Of course, cariño.” 

His warm eyes made your knees buckle, this time not from your physical activities. As if on cue, the credits rolled on the screen with a blaring sound, and both of you jerked your head in its direction with alarm, obviously forgetting about the movie going in the background the entire time. You looked back at each other with wide eyes, laughter erupting out of you at the same time.

“So, you wanna watch the movie when we get back home?” He snickered.

“Definitely!” You perked up at the prospect of spending more time with him after your getaway. Besides, now it was your mission to finally really watch the movie. “Unless you’ll need me again,” you added, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He chuckled and smacked your ass gently.

“I was hoping for that answer.”

—————

THE END.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated ♥️

[fatehbaz]

Tallying every single tree in the kingdom. Endangered South Asian sandalwood. British war to control the forests. European companies claim the ecosystem. Failure of the plantation. Until the twentieth century, the Empire couldn't figure out how to cultivate sandalwood because they didn't understand that the plant is actually a partial root parasite, so their monoculture approach of eliminating companion species was self-defeating. French perfumes and the creation of "Sandalwood City".

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Selling at about $147,000 per metric ton, the aromatic heartwood of Indian sandalwood (S. album) is arguably [among] the most expensive wood in the world. Globally, 90 per cent of the world’s S. album comes from India [...]. And within India, around 70 per cent of S. album comes from the state of Karnataka [...] [and] the erstwhile Kingdom of Mysore. [...] [T]he species came to the brink of extinction. [...] [O]verexploitation led to the sandal tree's critical endangerment in 1974. [...]

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Francis Buchanan’s 1807 A Journey from Madras through the Countries of Mysore, Canara and Malabar is one of the few European sources to offer insight into pre-colonial forest utilisation in the region. [...] Buchanan records [...] [the] tradition of only harvesting sandalwood once every dozen years may have been an effective local pre-colonial conservation measure. [...] Starting in 1786, Tipu Sultan [ruler of Mysore] stopped trading pepper, sandalwood and cardamom with the British. As a result, trade prospects for the company [East India Company] were looking so bleak that by November 1788, Lord Cornwallis suggested abandoning Tellicherry on the Malabar Coast and reducing Bombay’s status from a presidency to a factory. [...] One way to understand these wars is [...] [that] [t]hey were about economic conquest as much as any other kind of expansion, and sandalwood was one of Mysore’s most prized commodities. In 1799, at the Battle of Srirangapatna, Tipu Sultan was defeated. The kingdom of Mysore became a princely state within British India [...]. [T]he East India Company also immediately started paying the [new rulers] for the right to trade sandalwood.

British control over South Asia’s natural resources was reaching its peak and a sophisticated new imperial forest administration was being developed that sought to solidify state control of the sandalwood trade. In 1864, the extraction and disposal of sandalwood came under the jurisdiction of the Forest Department. [...] Colonial anxiety to maximise profits from sandalwood meant that a government agency was established specifically to oversee the sandalwood trade [...] and so began the government sandalwood depot or koti system. [...]

From the 1860s the [British] government briefly experimented with a survey tallying every sandal tree standing in Mysore [...].

Instead, an intricate system of classification was developed in an effort to maximise profits. By 1898, an 18-tiered sandalwood classification system was instituted, up from a 10-tier system a decade earlier; it seems this led to much confusion and was eventually reduced back to 12 tiers [...].

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Meanwhile, private European companies also made significant inroads into Mysore territory at this time. By convincing the government to classify forests as ‘wastelands’, and arguing that Europeans would improves these tracts from their ‘semi-savage state’, starting in the 1860s vast areas were taken from local inhabitants and converted into private plantations for the ‘production of cardamom, pepper, coffee and sandalwood’.

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Yet attempts to cultivate sandalwood on both forest department and privately owned plantations proved to be a dismal failure. There were [...] major problems facing sandalwood supply in the period before the twentieth century besides overexploitation and European monopoly. [...] Before the first quarter of the twentieth century European foresters simply could not figure out how to grow sandalwood trees effectively.

The main reason for this is that sandal is what is now known as a semi-parasite or root parasite; besides a main taproot that absorbs nutrients from the earth, the sandal tree grows parasitical roots (or haustoria) that derive sustenance from neighbouring brush and trees. [...] Dietrich Brandis, the man often regaled as the father of Indian forestry, reported being unaware of the [sole significant English-language scientific paper on sandalwood root parasitism] when he worked at Kew Gardens in London on South Asian ‘forest flora’ in 1872–73. Thus it was not until 1902 that the issue started to receive attention in the scientific community, when C.A. Barber, a government botanist in Madras [...] himself pointed out, 'no one seems to be at all sure whether the sandalwood is or is not a true parasite'.

Well into the early decades of twentieth century, silviculture of sandal proved a complete failure. The problem was the typical monoculture approach of tree farming in which all other species were removed and so the tree could not survive. [...]

The long wait time until maturity of the tree must also be considered. Only sandal heartwood and roots develop fragrance, and trees only begin developing fragrance in significant quantities after about thirty years. Not only did traders, who were typically just sailing through, not have the botanical know-how to replant the tree, but they almost certainly would not be there to see a return on their investments if they did. [...]

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The main problem facing the sustainable harvest and continued survival of sandalwood in India [...] came from the advent of the sandalwood oil industry at the beginning of the twentieth century. During World War I, vast amounts of sandal were stockpiled in Mysore because perfumeries in France had stopped production and it had become illegal to export to German perfumeries. In 1915, a Government Sandalwood Oil Factory was built in Mysore. In 1917, it began distilling. [...] [S]andalwood production now ramped up immensely. It was at this time that Mysore came to be known as ‘the Sandalwood City’.

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Text above by: Ezra Rashkow. "Perfumed the axe that laid it low: The endangerment of sandalwood in southern India." The Indian Economic and Social History Review, Volume 51 (2014), Issue 1, pages 41-70. First published online 10 March 2014. DOI: 10.1177/0019464613515533 [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Italicized first paragraph/heading in this post added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[thelibraryghost]

A Young Person's Guide to 18th-Century Western Fashion

unabridged version at blogspot

General info Cox, Abby. "I Wore 18th-Century Clothing *Every Day for 5 YEARS & This Is What I Learned (Corsets Aren't Bad!)." YouTube. May 10, 2020. Cullen, Oriole. “Eighteenth-Century European Dress.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Glasscock, Jessica. "Eighteenth-Century Silhouette and Support." In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Accessories Banner, Bernadette. "Women's Pockets Weren't Always a Complete Disgrace | A Brief History: England, 15th c - 21st c." YouTube. April 10, 2021. Colonial Williamsburg. "#TradesTuesday: Men's Accessories." YouTube. June 13, 2021. Murden, Sarah. "The Georgian era fashion for straw hats." All Things Georgian. December 6, 2018. Cosmetics & hygiene Cox, Abby. "I Followed an 18th-Century Moisturizer & Sunscreen Recipe & it kinda worked??." YouTube. February 21, 2021. Cox, Abby. "We tried making *5* different 250 year old rouge (blush) recipes || [real] regencycore makeup." YouTube. August 29, 2021. JYF Museums. "Hygiene in the 18th Century | From the Farm to the Army." YouTube. August 21, 2021. Décor Heckscher, Morrison H. “American Rococo.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Munger, Jeffrey. “French Porcelain in the Eighteenth Century.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Formal wear SnappyDragon. "This dressing gown changed fashion forever : the feminist history of going out in loungewear." YouTube. April 15, 2022. Stowell, Lauren. "The Many Types of 18th Century Gowns." American Duchess. March 15, 2013. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Cottagecore Style Is Much Older Than You Think." YouTube. June 30, 2021. Hair care Cox, Abby. "I made 250-year-old Hair Products Using Original Recipes (and animal fat...)." YouTube. November 7, 2021. Cox, Abby. "I tried a 300-year-old hair care routine for a year & this is what I learned (it's awesome!)." YouTube. January 23, 2022. Cox, Abby. "What's the Deal with 18th Century Wigs? (and why Bridgerton really messed this up)." YouTube. June 1, 2023. Laundry Cox, Abby. "Making 300 Year Old SLIME for Laundry Day." YouTube. June 15, 2023. Townsends. "Historical Laundry Part 2: No Washing Machine, No Dryer, Hit It With A Stick?" YouTube. June 3, 2019. Outer- & working-wear JYF Museum. "Getting Dressed | Clothing for an 18th Century Middling Woman." YouTube. March 18, 2021. Major, Joanne. "The practicalities of wearing riding habits, and riding ‘en cavalier’." All Things Georgian. March 12, 2019. Rudolph, Nicole. "What did Pirates ACTUALLY Wear? Fashion at Sea in the 18th c & Our Flag Means Death Costumes." YouTube. May 8, 2022. Shoes Chin, Cynthia E. "Martha Washington's Shoes." George Washington's Mount Vernon. No date. Murden, Sarah. "18th-century shoes." All Things Georgian. December 15, 2015. Rudolph, Nicole. "Real 18th century Shoes? Historical Shoemaker Examines an Antique." YouTube. December 13, 2020. Textiles Cox, Abby. "18th Century Printed Cotton Do's & Don't's." American Duchess. December 23, 2019. Stowell, Lauren. "Fabrics for the 18th Century and Beyond." American Duchess. June 14, 2021. Townsends. "Oil Cloth - Waterproof Coverings for Your Campsite." YouTube. July 30, 2018. Undergarments Major, Joanne. "Quilted Petticoats: worn by all women and useful in more ways than one." All Things Georgian. November 20, 2018. Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 18th century Stays for the Ideal Body Shape : Historical Undergarments." YouTube. August 12, 2023. SnappyDragon. "RUMP ROAST : Ranking historical fashion's wildest fake butt pads." YouTube. October 27, 2023. Townsends. "Sewing Histories' Most Popular Garment - The Fabric Of History - Townsends." YouTube. September 3, 2022.

[girlactionfigure]

by design

INTRODUCTION

Since the October 7 massacre, antisemitism worldwide has skyrocketed to levels reminiscent of the eve of the rise of the Nazis. Dozens of synagogues around the world have been firebombed or set on fire. A 12-year-old Jewish girl was raped in France on account of her Jewishness; another French Jewish woman was allegedly kidnapped and raped “to avenge Palestine.” A pro-Palestinian protestor killed a 69-year-old Jewish man in Los Angeles. An ISIS-supporting teenager stabbed a 50-year-old Jewish man in Zurich, leaving him in critical condition. A San Diego Jewish dentist was murdered under suspicious circumstances. Protestors have defaced Holocaust memorials, nearly lynched Israel’s 20-year-old Eurovision participant, the mother of an Israeli female hostage had to be rescued from a pro-Palestine mob in New York City, protestors disrupted a memorial walk at Auschwitz on the Jewish Holocaust Remembrance Day, and the list goes on and on…

In 2017, the white supremacist Unite the Right Rally, during which participants exclaimed “Jews will not replace us,” drew widespread condemnation from the left. Yet today, day after day, thousands march in main western cities, including New York City, proudly displaying the flags of Hamas, Hezbollah, and even the Houthis, whose banner proclaims “a curse upon the Jews,” and the left hardly bats an eye. Worse, we are gaslit. We are told that these are merely “ceasefire” or “anti-war” protests. We are told “a few bad apples” don’t represent the movement. We are told we are blowing things out of proportion, or that their hateful actions are valid because of X, Y, and Z. 

But these are not a few bad apples or fringe extremists. I don’t doubt that the vast majority of people worldwide who feel solidarity with Palestinians are not genocidal Jew-haters. But the antisemitism that we see coming from the pro-Palestine crowd is not a fluke. It’s not a coincidence. It’s not an exaggeration, a distortion, or a lie. 

It’s by design. It’s, unfortunately, what this movement was designed to do from its inception, to the detriment of Jews, Palestinians, and Israelis alike. 

THE LONG LEGACY OF DHIMMITUDE 

To really understand what’s going on, we have to go back in time to 637 CE. Following Muhammad’s death in 632, the Arab Islamic empires conquered lands exponentially quickly. As a result of this rapid colonization, the Muslim authorities were faced with the “problem” of how to handle the conquered Indigenous peoples that resisted conversion to Islam.

This “problem” was solved with a treaty known as the Pact of Umar. This so-called treaty allowed select religious and cultural minorities, known as dhimmis, or “People of the Book,” to practice their beliefs so long as they paid the “jizya” tax and abided by a set of restrictive, second-class citizenship laws. 

In other words, to survive, Jews had two choices: pay a tax or convert to Islam. But the system of dhimmitude didn’t end there. Jews faced a myriad of second-class restrictions. For instance, Jews could not govern, lead, or employ Muslims. Jews could not join the military or work for the government. When harmed by a Muslim, Jews had to purchase Muslim witnesses, which left Jews with virtually no legal recourse. 

You may think that dhimmitude, which was only abolished in 1856, is too long ago, too far removed from the conflict and the Palestinians of today. But it isn’t. That’s not how history works. Fast forward to the beginnings of the twentieth century and political Zionism. Palestinian Arabs, the majority of whom were Muslim, might not have held any ill will toward Jews. But they were accustomed to a certain social structure, in which Muslims dominated and Jews and other religious minorities were second-class citizens. The “threat” of Zionism challenged this structure. Jews were fine, so long as they knew their place. Once Jews started asking for more, well, that became a problem. 

THE FORMER DHIMMIS

In 1916, the British promised the Arabs a unified Arab state in Greater Syria, which included Palestine. A year later, the British issued the Balfour Declaration, which stated that “His Majesty's Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”

It’s worth noting that the British did not yet occupy Palestine at the time either of these promises were made. To the Arabs, the Balfour Declaration reneged the earlier promise made to them, whereas the British argued that it, in fact, did not. After all, the Balfour Declaration never specified the exact nature of this Jewish homeland. 

Up until 1917, the vast majority of Arabs in Palestine, save for the higher classes, had never heard of Zionism. To prevent any sort of Jewish homeland from ever coming to fruition, the Palestinian Arab leadership, led by Haj Amin al-Husseini, had to mobilize the masses. So what did he do? He incited antisemitic violence, by disseminating the conspiracy that the Jews intended to take over Temple Mount. This incitement resulted in a series of antisemitic massacres, most notably, the 1929 Hebron Massacre. 

A couple of things are telling about these massacres. First, the language that was used. At the 1920 Nebi Musa riots, Muslim Arabs ravaged the Jewish community in Jerusalem, chanting “Palestine is ours!” and “the Jews are our dogs!” Second, if al-Husseini’s problem truly was Zionism, he could’ve incited violence against the new Zionist communities that had been established over the previous decades. Instead, however, this violence almost exclusively targeted the oldest continuous Jewish communities in Palestine, in Jerusalem, Hebron, Safed, and more. The threat of autonomous Jews prompted Palestinian Arabs to attack their very own neighbors, the former dhimmis.

SEEDS OF CONFLICT 

Today, Palestinians certainly have many legitimate human rights grievances against Israel. But up until the 1930s, when the Zionist paramilitary Irgun carried the first Zionist retaliatory attacks against Arabs, this just wasn’t the case. The Zionist movement purchased lands legally. As a matter of official policy, the Zionists avoided purchasing lands occupied by Palestinian farmers. 

The 1937 Peel Commission corroborated this, stating: “Much of the land now carrying orange groves was sand dunes or swamp and uncultivated when it was purchased.” In 1931, the British created a register for landless Arabs; only 664 Arabs out of a total of nearly 900,000 met the criteria. 

It’s worth noting that the Ottoman Empire had restricted Jewish land purchases. Once again, Zionist land purchases upset the previously existing social order, in which Jews were tolerated so long as they stayed in line. 

In fact, Haj Muhammad Said al-Husseini, the Mufti of Gaza, admitted as much in 1948, when he issued a fatwa stating that “Zionism has created a reality in which Jews have forgotten they are dhimmis.” A similar fatwa had been issued in 1935. 

What’s happening today is not at all shocking considering the earliest Palestinian violent “resistance” to Zionism was, to put it plainly, resistance to Jews. In 1937, when Haj Amin al-Husseini was asked whether he would be willing to absorb the 400,000 Jews already residing in Palestine into a future singular Palestinian Arab state, he plainly said, “No,” and implied that they would be expelled. Of course, he also rejected any partition of the land between Arabs and Jews. In other words, Haj Amin al-Husseini rejected the very existence of Jews in Palestine regardless of the political arrangement. 

Their problem wasn’t just with Zionism. From day one, their problem was with Jews. So is it any surprise Jews today are being terrorized around the world in the name of Palestine?

ionist land purchases did not displace Palestinians. As a matter of policy, the Zionist movement avoided purchasing lands occupied by fellahin, or Palestinian farmers. This is corroborated by the 1937 Peel Commission, which noted, “Much of the land now carrying orange groves was sand dunes or swamp and uncultivated when it was purchased.”

But up until 1936, when the Irgun, the right-wing Zionist paramilitary group, carried the first Zionist retaliatory attacks against Arabs, this wasn’t the case. Land purchases 

"His Majesty's government has been faced with an irreconcilable conflict of principles. For the Jews, the essential point of principle is the creation of a sovereign Jewish state. For the Arabs, the essential point of principle is to resist to the last the establishment of Jewish sovereignty in any part of Palestine." 

British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin, 1947

SKEWED PRIORITIES

Time and time again from its inception, the Palestinian “resistance” has prioritized the murder of Jews over their own national aspirations. Between 1939-1947, the Palestinian Arab leadership rejected a number of iterations of a “one state solution” with an Arab majority on account of the fact that said state would have too many Jews or afford Jews too much autonomy. 

The original 1964 charter of the Palestine Liberation Organization is telling. In 1964, the charter explicitly stated, “This Organization [the PLO] does not exercise any regional sovereignty over the West Bank in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, in the Gaza Strip, or the Himmah area.” In other words, the PLO’s main aim was the destruction of Israel, as opposed to self-determination for the Palestinian people living under the occupation of two different Arab nations. It was only in 1968, shortly after Israel captured those territories during the Six Day War, that their charter was amended to include Gaza and the West Bank.

The pattern has continued. In the early 1990s, when Israel and the PLO pursued a peace process known as the Oslo Accords, Yasser Arafat, al-Husseini’s protege and chairman of the PLO, gave an address at a Johannesburg mosque where he assured the worshippers that this peace agreement was merely a “tactical step” in the ultimate goal to annihilate Israel. 

Among the most heard chants at pro-Palestine protests today are a number of variations of “globalize the intifada,” but the intifadas drastically deteriorated the quality of life of Palestinians. The checkpoints and the West Bank wall, for example, were erected in response to the intifadas.There is absolutely no strategic reason in calling for an intifada if the concern is truly Palestinian human rights. The only reason to call for an intifada is if what you wish to prioritize is the murder of Jews. 

In the 1960s, Vietnamese general Vo Nguyen Giáp advised Arafat to "…stop talking about annihilating Israel and instead turn your [Arafat's] terror war into a struggle for human rights." But the fact remains: Arafat, and his successors, continued to prioritize Israel’s destruction over Palestinian human rights. 

rootsmetals

[mesetacadre]

The Yugoslav volunteers in the International Brigades

Translated from this article, my own comments in [italicized brackets]

The total number of Yugoslavs in Spain differs according to researchers. The French historian, Hervé Lemesle, states that the total exceeds 1900, with the main contingent being Croatian, followed by Slovenes and Serbs. A majority were workers from many sectors and peasants. There were also doctors, engineers, teachers, journalists, and students. Most traveled from Yugoslavia, although there were groups of exileds or migrants from many European countries, as well as the US, Canada or Argentina.

The number of deaths (including MIA) in Spain is close to 800, a very high percentage (40%), although other studies estimate 32%. At any rate, it’s higher than the average losses for the International Brigades (27%). The most notorious victim was Blagoje Parović [Šmit, nom de guerre], part of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia’s Central Committee and political commissar of the XIII International Brigade, who died the first day in the Battle of Brunete. His remains were buried in the Fuencarral cemetery.

There were 16 Yugoslav women in the Health Services. The oldest was 43, while the youngest were only 22 years old. Most of the female volunteers arrived in Spain in 1937, from the Kingdom of Yugoslavia or countries such as Algeria, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, France, and Uruguay. Some of those women had been active agents of the worker movement or even members of the CPY before leaving for Spain. Those who lacked medical training attended a preparation course beforehand. They worked in the hospitals of Murcia, Albacete, Benicasim, Denia, Madrigeras, Vic, and other cities. Avgust Lesnik writes: “There were 16 women: doctors Adela Bohunicki, Nada Dimitrijević-Nešković, and Dobrila Mezić-Šiljak, [as well as the nurses] Ana-Marija Basch (Baš), Olga Dragić-Belović (Milić Milica), Elizabeta-Liza Gavrić, Marija-Peči Glavaš, Marija Habulin, Lea Kraus, Tereza Kučera, Lujza Pihler (Demić Borka), Ottilia Reschitz-Zanoni, Ana Seles-Brozović, Kornelija Sende-Popović, Eugenia Simonetti, and Marija Šneeman”.

Borka Demic (right) in the Pasionaria Hospital of Murcia (colored by Tina Paterson)

If I were to be born again, I’d continue fighting for the ideals of my youth. Then, nothing was difficult and I don’t regret anything (Borka Demic)

The Yugoslav volunteers in the various units and arms

After the formation of the International Brigades, the Yugoslav volunteers were distributed throughout different units. For instance, the Edgar André battalion had 36, the Thälmann had 93, Garibaldi had 40, and Chapaiev had 78. The main body of Yugoslavs, however, were first integrated into the Balkan company of the Dombrowski battalion (120), and immediately after, into the Dimitrov battalion. By early 1938 a good portion of the Yugoslavs were integrated into two of the 129th Brigade’s battalions: Dimitrov (191) and Djaković (150). They were also a part of the 45th International Division (108)

There was Yugoslav presence in various arms and services: 4 in aviation; 12 in transport units, 1 in the navy, 33 in the International Brigades’ health service, and 26 in the guerrilla groups (one of the most experienced of which was Ljubomir Ilič). More important than this was their presence (131 members) in the artillery arm, of which there were 21 in the heavy artillery Slav Group, 22 in the 2nd heavy artillery Škoda Group’s Liebknecht Battery, 18 in the 3rd heavy artillery Group, 38 in the 4th anti-tank Group’s Stjepan Radić battery, 6 in the 35 Division’s Ana Pauker artillery Group, 5 in the 45 Division’s Rosa Luxembourg artillery Group, and 21 in the Gottwald battery. Furthermore, 65 Yugoslavs fought in the Spanish units of the Republican Army. (Avgust Lesnik)

They fought in almost every front in Spain, from the defense of Madrid to the very last battles of the retreat into France (Januray-February 1939) being an example of fearlessness and courage, because of which a good part of them received war medals from the Spanish Republican Government.

The Dimitrov battalion until December 1937

As has been explained in another article, the Dimitrov battalion was formed in January 1937 in the instructional base in Mahora. They entered battle the 12th of February in the Jarama battle, which finished the 27th of that same month. Then, until mid June, it stayed covering that from with the other battalions of the XV International Brigade.

After a two week rest in Ambite (Tajuña valley), the XV Brigade travelled to Madrid’s north to take part of the first great republican offensive in Brunete. Combat started during the night of the 5 to the 6th of July. The XV International Brigade was a part of, along the XIII and 16 BM, the XV Division under general Gal’s command [János Gálicz, a Soviet-Hungarian officer who also led the Lincoln Battalion]. The mission was to take the heights of Romanillos (XIII IB) and Mosquito (XV IB). It wasn’t possible because operations were slow and the brigades could not take the important francoist positions. The Dimitrov went as far as taking the Miraval Olive Grove, but in the 18th of July, when the first francoist counter-offensive commences, they lost it. Since that point, the republican positions began to retreat until the 22nd, when they were forced to cross back through the Guadarrama river. The XV IB was relieved the 26th of July and went back to where they began the offensive.

In late July, the Dimitrov returned to Ambite (Tajuña valley) and was able to reorganize: the battalion, that had arrived with 143 combatants, reached 563. In this way, in the 24th of August, it threw itself with renewed force against the Aragonian village of Quinto, which fell 26th. During the taking of the village and the Purburell hill, which defended them to the east, the Dimitrov battalion’s courage stood out. The same was true in the fierce week-long combat to subdue Belchite.

After this battle, the Dimitrov was detached from the XV Brigade and, during the few following months, was a part of, along with the Djuro Djakovic battalion, the 45th International Division’s Reserve Group. It was a period that they dedicated to military education and to the surveillance of the Huesca Front from the second line. In January 1938 they received the order to transfer to the Southern Front. Close to Almadén, in Chillón, the last International Brigade was formed, the 129th; composed of these two battalions plus the newly created Masaryk battalion.

The Djuro Djakovic Battalion

Composed primarily of Yugoslav volunteers, plus a few Czechoslovaks and Bulgarians, adopted their name in memory of that Croat revolutionary and member of the CPY, tortured and executed in 1929 by order of the king and dictator Alexander the First.

It was formed in April 1937 from the Balkan Company of the Dombrowski battalion. This Company had participated, with the Dombrowski, in the Defense of Madrid and in the battles of Boadilla, Jarama, and Guadalajara. Its excellent conduct pushed general Lukács [Béla Frankl, or Máté Zalka, nom de guerre Pál Lukács, a Hungarian veteran of the Russian Civil War, where he fought alongside the Bolsheviks, he died 2 months later in Huesca], leader of the XII IB, to convert the Company into the core from which the new Djure Djakovic battalion would arise. Its first combat happened in April 1937 in Santa Quiteria, in the Aragon Front, along the Rakosi battalion and the Karl Marx Division.

It returned to Carabaña (Madrid) to reorganize under the command of Bulgarian captain Jristov, and marched to Roquetes in June (close to Tortosa) to join the 150th IB (Dombrowski Brigade), formed in May from the Dombrowski, Rakosi, and André Marty battalions. This brigade plus the XII IB formed the 45th division, under the command of General Kléber [Manfred Stern, nom de guerre Emilio Kléber, a Ukranian Jew member of Soviet military intelligence], was sent to Madrid in early July to take part in the Brunete offensive as a reserve unit to the XVIII Army Corps.

The Djakovic battalion did not have any special role in Brunete, but it did in the following offensive towards Zaragoza (24th of August - 7th of September), as was expressed in Wladimir Stopczyk’s final report as Commissar of the XIII IB: “It has been told to me how, when they had been encircled and cut off there was no panic whatsoever, nor any case of disobeying an order. They conducted themselves with an equal parts spirit of sacrifice and discipline, as they continue to do so, as well as the soldiers of our Brigade’s other battalions. I have to specially remark the Djakovic battalion’s attitude who, despite the heavy losses suffered in the last scuttles, with intense fire from fascist artillery and aviation, maintained a dignified and heroic attitude”.

Both in this instance as in the October attack against Fuentes de Ebro, this battalion suffered many losses. Afterwards, the Dimitrov and Djakovic battalions were designated as the 45th Division’s Reserve Group. This division, from October 1937 to January 1938, remained in the Litera region as reinforcement of the first line at the Huesca front.

The 129th International Brigade

In February 1938, these two battalions, with the predominantly Czechoslovak Masaryk battalion, formed the 129th IB, in Chillón, close to Almadén. It was led by the Polish Wacław Komar [born Mendel Kossoj, known in Spain as Wacek Komar, a Jewish survivor of the Holocaust and member of the Polish Communist Party until his retirement in 1967]. In addition to these battalions, the 129th IB had at its disposal an anti-tank battery made up of Yugoslavs, a mortar company and a cavalry squadron. In late March 1938. the 129th IB was transferred to the area around Morella, where it suffered heavy losses. The fascist troops led by general Aranda and the Italian Divisions advanced with numerous human and material resources, and the three battalions suffered severe losses. To this, the errors of the Republican command must be added, despite which the volunteers fought with high valor. Finally, in the 4th of April, the 129th evacuated the fort of Morella and retreated to rebuild its forces in Benassal, northeast of Castellón.

Yugoslav volunteers of the Djakovic battalion during the strategic retreat in Teruel

Once rebuilt and rearmed (the brigade once surpassed 2000 members), it initiated a series of defensive combats in the 17th of April in the province of Teruel in the context of the battle of the Levant. The scarcely-known feat began in Ejulve, in the province of Teruel’s north. For three months, these volunteers had the leading role in a strategic retreat of 225km [139.8 miles], through the mountains of Teruel, which brought them up to the Javalambre front, passing through Mora de Rubielos. In this last front, the 129th IB kept the defense and carried out a few attacks, highlighting the 18th of September attack to take the road from Teruel to Sagunto, the last swan song of a brigade that covered itself in glory during its short 7 month lifespan.

The Yugoslav volunteers at the end of the war in Spain

The international volunteers were disbanded in the 24th of September. In the center-south area it was done 2 weeks after, in early October. Those who remained in the Catalan region were concentrated in Campdevanol, north of Ripoll. A good part of the Yugoslavs, presents in the 129th IB and the artillery units, were concentrated in the Admiral’s headquarters in Valencia. In December, they were transported to Almusafes until they were able to travel to Barcelona by boat the 20th of January.

Days later, before Barcelona’s fall and the coming republican collapse, most of the Yugoslavs offered themselves as volunteers to help in the task of preventing the fascist advance, which they did from the 26th of January until February 6th. This is how Svetsilav Dorevic told it: “The end of our fight has come, the internationals’ last compromise was to help the Spanish fellows to contain the enemy at least a little bit, so the evacuation that had to be done could be done without panic and in order, so it did not fall prey to the enemy, as well as to prevent the capture of people at risk of death”.

After, came the concentration camps in Argeles sur Mer, Saint Cyprien, Collioure, Gurs, and others. Many managed to escape, others were transferred to the French work camps, others to the French resistance, as well as the resistance in other European countries. The metallurgical worker Koturović (“Cot”), of Belgrade, was a legendary hero of the French Resistance Movement, in which Ljubomir Ilič, Vlajko Begović, and Lazar Latinović also played a marked role.

Almost 350 were able to return to Yugoslavia, of which 250 joined the partisan fight beared by Tito [Another international volunteer] and the CPY. Around 150 perished in the national liberation war from 1942 to 1945. Many of those organized insurrections, led guerrilla detachments, or were unit chiefs. Because of their merits in the fight against the fascist invaders, the Popular Hero of Yugoslavia medal was awarded to more than 50 ex-combatants of the International Brigades, amongst which were Franc Rozman, Koča Popović, Kosta Nadj, Vladimir Popović, Peko Dapčević, Iván Rukavina, Danilo Lekić, Dušan Kveder, Veljko Kovačević, Srećko Manola, Vlado Cetković, Vojo Todorović, Otmar Kreačić, and Vicko Antić. All the rest were awarded with high medals.

[shesmyboot]

Baby Severide - Chapter 1: Growing an Entire Human

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader Summary: When Kelly accompanies you to an OB appointment, the doctor brings some unexpected news.

Words: 1,569

Warnings: Doctors appointments, not great writing

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: The first chapter of a few. The entire fic isn’t quite done yet. Honestly, I wrote this for me, so if you like it, great, let me know. If not, great too, just don’t tell me. Medical info and such may not be right, sorry :) tagging some friends and mutuals as to celebrate my return to writing

Next Chapters: Chapter 2

Tags: @morganupstead @district447 @mustprotectmattcaseyatallcosts

——

“Hey babe, you home?” Kelly called for you as he opened the apartment door.

“Hey I’m here,” you sighed as you chuckled softly.

“How are my two favourite girls doing?” He asked, setting his duffel bag on the floor before coming to snuggle up with you on the couch. 

“We’re ok, feeling like a beached whale though, baby.” 

“We are in the home stretch. Take it easy these last few weeks.”

“Oh we’re taking it easy all right. I sat on this couch all day and did nothing, but watch The Bachelor,” you laughed, “how was shift?”

“A car wreck, nothing major. Then I came home early for you,” he leaned over and gave you a peck on the lips before getting up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” You gave Kelly your best puppy dog eyes.

“Well I thought I was going to shower,” he chuckled.

“Can you get me some water and a snack?” 

“What about water and some breakfast?”

“Oh, the baby could really use some of your bacon and french toast.”

“You sit here, I’ll make us some french toast.”

“Don’t forget the bacon,” you teased as he went to the kitchen to start preparing your feast.

—

“Breakfast on the couch or the table?” Kelly called, plates clanging in the background.

“How about from our bed?” You laughed back, “I’ve had a long day.”

“You’re growing an entire human, that’s a long enough day as it is without you having to work from home too,” he brought the plates to your night stands and came back for you. 

You got up from the couch with his help and started to waddle over to the bed. 

“Hopefully only another few hours of working from home,” you sighed, getting under the quilt your mom made you as a wedding gift. 

“Heard from the doctor yet?” He asked, sliding into the bed with a coffee in his hand. 

“Called this morning. She got a cancellation for this afternoon at 3 to do another ultrasound and checkup so I don’t have go by myself,” you replied, digging into your stack of french toast. 

“Our daughter is the luckiest,” he leaned down to kiss your belly. 

“With your as her daddy, I have no doubt,” you moved your plate to your night stand and rested your head on his shoulder. 

“As of now, I’ll only be away for one more shift before she’s born.”

“How long is Boden giving you for paternity leave?”

“I’m only going to take six weeks. Then I’m gonna use up some furlough, so I’ll be off with you for about eight weeks.”

“I thought you had more time saved up.”

“I get 12 weeks every two years. If we have more kids, I want to have the time to be off both times, baby.”

“I don’t know if I want them that close together though,” you laughed. 

“Never know. We didn’t expect this one.”

“That’s true I guess. Hey, what time is it?”

“1:28, why?”

“I have a call at 1:30.”

“What do you need for it?”

“Just my laptop and AirPods.”

“I’ll grab them for you quick.”

He walked across the bedroom to the desk and brought you your things to start your call. He wondered out of the room so you could present in peace. 

Kelly walked back into your bedroom near the end of your call. You were just saying goodbye to some coworkers since your maternity leave officially started as soon as your call was finished. You closed your laptop and put it to the side.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“One thing first,” you smiled.

“Which is…?”

“Can you tie my shoes please?” You laughed.

“Of course, but let’s get going. I haven’t seen the baby in a couple months.”

“I know, I know, my shoes are on the floor by the door.”

“Let’s get you up then, we’ve got to go.”

—

As you pulled up to the doctor’s office, a flutter of excitement filled your heart. Walking into the office, you always dreaded that the OB’s office was on the second floor. You had a seat and waited your turn. Kelly always made sure you were there early after all. 

“Mrs Severide?” A nurse called.

You stood up and Kelly held your hand into the exam room. 

“There’s a gown on the bed with a blanket. Please put the gown on, the doctor will be in soon,” 

“Thank you,” Kelly smiled.

The nurse left the room and you stood by the bed. Kelly sitting in the chair by your side. You started to change and your husband tied the sides of your gown together for you. He helped you onto the bed, draping the blanket over your legs and belly.

There was a knock on the door, “Hi, it’s Dr Calhoun.”

“Come in,” you answered.

Dr. Calhoun closed the door behind her as she came into the exam room. 

“How are the parents-to-be feeling today?” She asked.

“A little wobbly, but happy to finally be on maternity leave,” you laughed.

“And how are you feeling, Kelly?” 

“A little nervous, but excited,” he replied.

“Any concerns with the pregnancy since we last saw you? From either of you?” Dr Calhoun asked, pulling up your chart on the computer.

“Nothing that I’ve noticed. Just really tired,” you replied.

“That is to be expected, you’re in the home stretch.”

“Kelly said the same thing,” you laughed, “it does help my case of getting him to cook for me when he’s not on shift though.”

“Sounds like you’re doing well then,” she laughed, “let’s take a look at this baby girl.”

She pulled the ultrasound wand and gel out. Kelly held your hand.

“It’s gonna be a little cold, I’m sorry,” she announced. 

She squirted the gel onto your belly and flicked the machine on. Swirling the wand around your belly, she turned the screen so you could see the image.

“She’s bigger than the last time I’ve seen her,” Kelly laughed, kissing your hand. 

“She has grown a lot in the last month or two,” you smiled, “how’s she looking?”

“Active and growing well. Do you mind if I ask you guys something?” Dr Calhoun asked.

“Sure, is something wrong?” Kelly asked.

“Not at all. How big were you both when you were born?” She replied.

“I believe I was just under seven pounds, and I think Kelly’s mom said he was over 9 pounds. Why?” You replied.

“Your daughter is measuring larger than what we had originally thought. Almost nine and a half pounds. I’m worried about the risk of shoulder dystocia, and I’m thinking it may be easier on you and your baby if you opted for a c-section in the next week or two. A c-section isn’t an easier way out though and the recovery may be difficult.”

“But I’m only 36 weeks, shouldn’t we let her mature a little more?”

“Given her size already, she should be okay to deliver even tomorrow.”

“Kelly still has another shift left before he’s on leave. I don’t think I’m-“ you were starting to shift around on the bed.

“Babe, I’ll take some more furlough. It’ll be okay. Let’s just focus on you and the baby right now,” Kelly stroked your hair, “we’ll be okay.”

“Your baby has grown very well. I am not as worried about her progression as I am about your ability to recover and your baby’s risk of complications. I’ll give you a minute,” Dr Calhoun replied, walking towards the door, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She closed the door behind her and tears filled your eyes. 

“What do you think we should do?” Kelly asked.

“If the doctor thinks this is what’s best, I think we should do it,” you wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I make such big babies,” he laughed, rubbing your belly.

“Just means we get to meet her sooner. I think we should do this.” 

“When do you want to schedule it?”

“After your next shift. Make sure you don’t have to take any more time off.”

“I would happily take more time off for you and our little girl.”

“Thank you,” your eyes started to swell with tears of joy. 

“Knock knock,” Dr Calhoun said, entering the exam room, “have you made a decision or would you like more time?”

“I think we’ve made a decision,” you smiled, “let’s do this as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll leave some paperwork with the nurse at the desk. She’ll get you booked in and give you some instructions. See you both soon. Rest up. Oh and, as always, give us a call if something happens or if you have questions.”

“Thank you Doctor Calhoun.”

Dr Calhoun left the exam room and Kelly helped you change. You made your way to the front desk and booked your c-section. Saturday at 11:30am. Two days away.

Leaving the office, you felt excited. As Kelly started to drive you home, you noticed he seemed excited, but nervous.

“Hey, do you want to stop by 51 on our way home?” You asked, “to tell them the news?”

“Do you mind?” 

“Not at all. Then it gives you a chance to talk to Boden.”

Kelly made a u-turn back in the direction of the firehouse. You were only a few minutes away. He smiled from ear to ear as you pulled up. 

[gusty-wind]

CHILLING REPORT FROM HOLLAND'S Prime Minister Geert Wilders

Every word in this paper has deep thought-provoking effects.

Dear friends,

Thank you very much for inviting me. I come to America with a mission. All is not well in the old world. There is a tremendous danger looming, and it is very difficult to be optimistic. We might be in the final stages of the Islamization of Europe. This not only is a clear and present danger to the future of Europe itself. It is a threat to America and the sheer survival of the West. The United States was the last bastion of Western civilization, facing an Islamic Europe.

First, I will describe the situation on the ground in Europe. Then, I will say a few things about Islam. To close I will tell you about a meeting in Jerusalem.

The Europe you know is http://changing.You have probably seen the landmarks. But in all of these cities, sometimes a few blocks away from your tourist destination, there is another world. It is the world of the parallel society created by Muslim mass-migration. All throughout Europe, a new reality is rising: entire Muslim neighbourhoods where very few indigenous people reside or are even seen. And if they are, they might regret it. This goes for the police as well. It's the world of head scarves, where women walk around in figureless tents, with baby strollers and a group of children. Their husbands, or slaveholders, if you prefer, walk three steps ahead. With mosques on many street corners. The shops have signs you and I can not read. You will be hard-pressed to find any economic activity. These are Muslim ghettos controlled by religious fanatics. These are Muslim neighborhoods, and they are mushrooming in every city across Europe . These are the building-blocks for territorial control of increasingly larger portions of Europe , street by street, neighbourhood by neighbourhood, and city by city.

There are now thousands of mosques throughout Europe . With larger congregations than there are in churches. In every European city, there are plans to build super-mosques that will dwarf every church in the region. Clearly, the signal is: we rule.Many European cities are already one-quarter Muslim: just take Amsterdam , Marseille, and Malmo in Sweden . In many cities, the majority of the under-18 population is Muslim. Paris is now surrounded by a ring of Muslim neighbourhoods. Mohammed is the most popular name among boys in many cities.

In some elementary schools in Amsterdam the farm can no longer be mentioned, because that would also mean mentioning the pig, and that would be an insult to Muslims.Many state schools in Belgium and Denmark only serve halal food to all pupils. In once-tolerant Amsterdam gays are beaten up almost exclusively by Muslims. Non-Muslim women routinely hear 'whore, whore'. Satellite dishes are not pointed to local TV stations, but to stations in the country of origin.

In France school teachers are advised to avoid authors deemed offensive to Muslims, including Voltaire and Diderot; the same is increasingly true of Darwin . The history of the Holocaust can no longer be taught because of Muslim sensitivity.

In England sharia courts are now officially part of the British legal system. Many neighborhoods in France are no-go areas for women without head scarves. Last week a man almost died after being beaten up by Muslims in Brussels , because he was drinking during the Ramadan.Jews are fleeing France in record numbers, on the run for the worst wave of anti-Semitism since World War II. French is now commonly spoken on the streets of Tel Aviv and Netanya , Israel . I could go on forever with stories like this. Stories about Islamization. A total of fifty-four million Muslims now live.

San Diego University recently calculated that a staggering 25 percent of the population in Europe will be Muslim just 12 years from now. Bernhard Lewis has predicted a Muslim majority by the end of this century.

Now these are just numbers. And the numbers would not be threatening  if the Muslim-immigrants had a strong desire to assimilate.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Were any French Revolution figures involved in duels and what was the general attitude towards dueling by the revolutionaries? (I know plenty of French historical figures who participated in duels before and after the French Revolution but it seemed less popular during the republic?)

According to the article Duelling in eighteenth-century France: Archaeology, Rationale, Implications(1980) by George Armstrong Kelly,  ”the great majority of ”patriots” abominated this feudal survival, but they found it less than simple to legislate manners.” On February 3 1791, the deputy Chevalier introduced a new law against duels, which carried, despite opposition from the right. One year later, September 17 1792, the Legisaltive Assembly did however pass an act of indulgence agaisnt all cases of duelling that had transpired since July 1789, giving as its reason that ”political and patriotic considerations might have legitimately provoked such combats.” But two years after that, July 17 1794, the National Convention, after determining that no existint legislation had dealt with duelling, instead decreed that a committee ”examine and propose means of preventing duels and the penalties to assign those guilty of duelling of provoking it.” According to Armstrong Kelly, under the ”Jacobin regime,” renewed attemps were also made to eradicate duelling in the armies.

When it comes to individual revolutionaries attitudes towards dueling, Armstrong Kelly notes two known duels between actual deputies of the National Assembly:

In the first case, it was Cazalès, the spokesman for the ultramonarchists, who delivered the injure to Barnave, then the spellbinding young speaker of the Left, having called him a "tramp" and a "brigand." The duel was fought, à l'anglaise, with pistols in the Bois de Boulogne on the morning of 11 August 1790. Despite the courteous disposition of the two men toward each other personally, they fought lethally. Eventually Barnave managed to wound Cazalès on the forehead. Surprisingly, the duel cemented a friendship across political barriers, and the two antagonists were mutually hailed with applause when they greeted each other next in the Assembly. Barnave's victory won him much popularity, especially in his native Grenoble. In the second case, the well-known friend of Barnave and future Feuillant Charles de Lameth, though avoiding the consequences of one injure by a young officer named Chauvigny de Plot, could not ignore the ensuing insults of a deputy of the Right, the due de Castries, son of the marshal. Their combat took place with swords on the Champ de Mars on the afternoon of 12 November 1790; Lameth was painfully wounded on the left hand. Though a literary descendant of the due describes the encounter as "a simple explanation between gentlemen,” more serious political implications were attached to the act, for Lameth, though a noble, was at the time a popular spokesman for the Left. Word was passed that Castries's sword had been poisoned, and on the following afternoon a large, angry mob sacked the Hôtel de Castries on the rue de Varenne. The following evening Castries left Paris for exile. Important political repercussions attended this episode, gravely damaging Mirabeau’s rapprochement with the Court.

He furthermore notes that both Brissot and Louis Sébastien Mercier wrote  about duels in the 1780s, both celebrating the fact that the amount of the them had been waning during the reign of Louis XVI and contributing this to ”philosophy” or ”the spirit of the century.” Nicolas Guénot, future agent of the Committee of General Security, "was in and out of prison throughout his [military] service [1775-1783]; and in one of the brawls in which he was involved and in which sabres were drawn, he was severely wounded in the left arm, the use of which he never fully recovered." Finally, in July 1790, Barère inserted some remarks about dueling in the journal Le Moniteur, complaining that ”the egislators are witnessing how a feudal practice is surviving the destruction of feudalism,” and calling the duelist ”a wild animal who should be handed over to the discretion of the constituted authorities of protection” and ought to even be declared an outlaw. Armstrong Kelly uses Barère’s demand as ”unquestionable evidence” that during the revolution, ”the French were continuing to draw their swords against one another”

[raindailies]

the chase is over. ᝰ.ᐟ

HACKER!SHU YAMINO x CRIMINAL!READER ──★ ˙ ̟ !!

INFO: you've been playing a game of chase with an infamous hacker who goes by Shu. He's finally caught up to you, after years. What will you do?

WARNINGS: major character death, angst no comfort, descriptions of blood, suicide ; no use of y/n

A/N: i wrote this at 12 am on a school night with a french test tomorrow so this is probably rlly shit spare me

English isn't my first language - so excuse any grammatical mistakes and bare with me here (╥_╥)

words:

𝐒𝐇𝐔 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 ✦ !

Who would've thought things would end like this?

Roughly 3 years ago, while simply robbing a small shop just down the road, you met face to face with an infamous hacker. You managed to slip out of his grasp then, but he had made it his mission to catch you with all his might - though you were a difficult one to deal with. You always ran away somehow, and it was like a never ending cycle.

Or so you thought.

He'd come close to catching you, and you'd slip away right as he's about to get you. You'd come close to finding out where he lives and boom it's actually a random garage. It was like a cat and mouse game. Over. And over. And over again.

A never-ending game.

Until it ended.

There you two were face to face with the man that has been hunting you for 3 consecutive years. You both standing on a rooftop, you stand near the edge of the rooftop, while he stands firmly in the middle. You have nowhere else to go. He finally caught you. He should feel proud, and satisfied, right? That's what he thought too.

"Looks like I lost" you smile, turning back to him.

"..don't say that." Shu mumbles, as his purple eyes interlocked with yours.

you smile.

he frowns.

"When are they arriving? The police, I mean." you chuckle bitterly, facing the man that you've been dreading to kill, but now that he's in front of you, you feel something else entirely.

Shu frowns, silent.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't call the police, you must have." You knew he did.

"..are you really okay with this?" he mumble.

"No, not really. I wish our game went on for longer." You smile, dryly. "I had fun you know? Despite everything, the game was the highlight of my days"

"..it was mine too" he admits, his head low.

"you know, I never saw you close up" You turn to look at him, closely. His eyes reflected the midnight blue skies behind you. His purple eyes stare back at you, and the wind is softly blowing his hair around. He was charming, quite more than you had remembered.

"you're pretty." You breathe out, as you observe his flushed face.

"I- what. Uh.. you're. You're pretty too.." He finally mutters, his voice shaking as he avoids your piercing gaze. It wasn't a lie, no, in fact, he thought you were drop-dead gorgeous when he first saw you years ago. Ever more gorgeous now, his gaze is fixated on your figure.

"I take it you're not very happy. Why is that? Aren't you happy to finally be catching me after all that time? I must've been a pain in your ass, I apologize." You softly chuckle, though tears were threatening to spill at that point.

"..no. No not really. I- Thank you. Thank you for just..being you. It was really fun." He sighs as he comes to the realization of his own feelings. He thought it was just the adrenaline during those chases, but it was butterflies.

"whoop, there they come." You laugh, your eyes peering down at the police cars and sirens heading your way.

"I'm sorry." To your surprise, you look back, to see Shu with tears running down his eyes.

"Wh- no don't be sorry! I knew this day would come anyway." You quickly waved his tears off.

"I've grown to really like you over all that time Shu." You spoke again, this time, approaching him softly. As you stood near him, your hand brought his face to look at you in the eye, but tears were blinding his sight.

You sigh, using your thumb to wipe away some of his tears. "I'm sorry for everything I've done, maybe in another universe, we could've been friends, or more." you smile softly at him as his eyes widen in the realization of your next actions.

You quickly pulled him in for a hug, tightly, as Shu very quickly returned the favor. He hugs you back while sobbing on your shoulder, his weight falls on you.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles through his tears.

"Don't be. I'm just glad we got to meet each other" You laugh softly, as the police come closer with each passing second. "In another universe, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good good, I'm sorry for this." You spoke lightly, softly tearing yourself away from the hug as the noises from the sirens and police yelling got louder by the minute. Shu's eyes widen in shock as he realizes your intentions now.

"no wait-!" He calls out to you, his legs just had to be so numb that he couldn't move. His breathing got rapidly faster as he saw you going closer and closer to the edge of the building.

one step.

another.

"thank you for being with me Shu! Our time together was short but the best I could ever ask for." You exclaim from the edge of the building.

Shu's ears were ringing, and everything in his body urged him to run at you.

"I love you." Your last words were uttered, and you finally let your body fall back.

in another universe, we'd be inseparable. But not this one.

© 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms in any way, shape, or form without my permission. if found, you WILL be blocked.

❝𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.❞

[wumblr]

vanilla production facts

it is an orchid

the flower blooms one day per year and must be manually pollinated. pollination causes the base of the flower to swell almost immediately, from there it takes weeks to develop into a seed pod

vanilla costs about $300/lb. this being the pulp of the fruit itself, the extract we are familiar with is dilute. second only to saffron for expense. the price also tends to fluctuate greatly depending on the abundance of any given year's crops

there are three strains of cultivated vanilla. cultivation dates as far back as the totonac people in the 12th century, who live in present day veracruz, on the eastern coast of mexico. the olmecs may have also used wild vanilla in cooking thousands of years earlier

vanilla was cultivated in european botanical gardens but not really used much for 300 years after the colombian invasion of mesoamerica until finally some idiot realized the melipona bee doesn't live there, which may not have even been the correct type of bee (possibly euglossine)

five years later (1841) a 12-year-old slave named edmond albius on the island of reunion figured out how to manually pollinate the flowers, which is an extremely delicate and difficult process. some french botanist claimed to have invented this process, and people believed him for over a century

the aroma doesn't develop until after the seed pod is harvested and processed. it must be sorted, graded, blanched, then alternately sweated and dried for 15-30 days. the blanching halts fermentation, which makes one wonder, what is a fermented vanilla seed pod like?

synthetic vanillin is derived from eugenol, from clove oil, and lignin, from any number of sources. the vast majority of synthetic vanilla is made from wood creosotes which occur as a product of lignin pyrolysis (fire). its major source is, like anything, the petrochemical industry, which requires heat to fractionally distill oil into several byproducts (kerosene, naphtha, gasoline, etc). which is to say, 85% of synthetic vanilla is made from the wood smoke of the oil industry. you might be inclined to ask "doesn't this pollute" which, if you recapture the smoke to sell its particulate creosotes to synthetic vanilla producers, no, i guess not really, or "why don't they use oil to heat the oil" because it is more profitable to sell the oil and burn wood to make it, obviously

it is difficult to tell the difference between natural and synthetic vanilla in baked goods, because the baking process burns off the distinctive notes, most of which differ by growing region (tahitian vanilla is floral, indonesian vanilla is smoky, mexican vanilla is woody or spicy, bourbon vanilla from reunion has an alcoholic richness)

price markup occurs not at the point of farming, but after the point of curing. there is no set price for green vanilla beans, but there is a set price for dried vanilla beans, after they have passed through several middlemen from farmer to broker to curing. after this point, they are marked up several more times before finally making it to grocery store shelves in the form of bottled extract

in 2017 a cyclone destroyed maybe 30-80% of madagascan vanilla crops, where possibly as much as 60-80% of the global supply of vanilla is grown. in the 5 years since then, the price has not recovered, but boy howdy, have the labels gotten more fancy in specifying when it's from madagascar, haven't they?

70% of madagascar lives below the poverty line, despite the island producing the majority of the world's supply of the second most expensive spice

by volume, the number of vanilla beans imported to the united states every year is nearly two for every single member of the population (~640m, for a ~330m population)

anyway stop pouring a whole bottle of it into a cup for a joke what the fuck is wrong with you people i hope to god that ibuprofen potion post was staged with some vaguely brown liquid. also the word vanilla etymologically derives from the latin vagina meaning sheath ok bye

[wisteriagoesvroom]

unnecessarily specific headcanons for college!AU f1 drivers, part 1

charles

- major: marine biology

- always asks you to save you a seat at the caf and watch his bag then disappears for an hour and a half. when you have to run to your next class you find him on the quad and he’s made four new friends and is playing football and is super apologetic that he forgot his bag. you only forgive him because he’s so charming

- dorm room is a bit of a disaster. sports and pop culture memorabilia everywhere with no particular regard for look or feel, it’s just vibes

- makes music in his free time tho is not above making people listen to his lofi mixes on ableton

- has a t shirt tan from always being out doing fieldwork

- doesn’t make a big deal about studying but is constantly on JSTOR and tops classes rankings all the time. knows the librarians on a first name basis. crosses over with max in a lecture and ends up debating him every lesson about some soil degradation minutiae that runs way beyond class time

- often forgets to call his family, but when they do speak, the conversations last hours

- flirts with anything that moves. knows he can cash in the relationship capital at some point but it’s not malicious, just strategic

- is close friends with Pierre. they constantly speak rapid fire French to each other and gossiping about people in front of them when they think nobody understands

- definitely gets caught by the local paper for climbing the historical bell tower on the last day before graduation

max

- major: geography

- writes a shockingly good first year thesis. so good that he fucks over the bell curve for everyone else and thus alienates most people

- blatantly abuses the open office hours to go argue with the profs about pedantic points from their seminars. they actually fear him and respect him in equal regard

- will talk about the geographies of war and peace in such unnecessary detail that most people at student parties know to avoid him so as not to get maxsplained at the fruit punch

- knows only how to make 5 dishes and keeps making the same few (one of them has potatoes and raisins in it. his dorm mates do not know how to feel).

- is all about efficiency. definitely abuses a 12-in-1 shampoo and this is a detail he will never live down even when everyone graduates. at one point he resorts to eating “prepacked food” until someone (probably his TA Daniel) points out that those are army rations that you normally heat up in like, the desert

- spots a statistical error in one of the papers in year end finals, and correctly challenges their prof wolff on it. prof wolff doesn’t like that one bit.

george

- major: finance

- head of student union and will not shut up about it

- won on a platform that de-emphasised radical politics in favour of “real hard hitting issues that affect our campus welfare” including alumni fundraising

- is in fact very close with the alumni. so much so they find him annoying but will still donate every time he asks them to open their pockets for better decor in the dorms or whatever

- will one day end up running the regional arm of a Fortune 500 investment bank, before he runs for political office because someone told him he couldn’t do it and he wanted to prove a point

- gets too drunk one day and ends up running half-clothed around the quad singing adele very off key. will pay a PR specialist a huge sum when he’s older to have this scrubbed from the internet

- his friend Alex teases him about his swottiness constantly. alex is not part of the student union but somehow everyone on campus knows him anyway and loves him

alex

- major: maths and statistics

- is such a nice dude that the cafeteria workers actually smuggle him secret (and more ethnic) food on the side

- will quietly put his hand up in a lecture and say “respectfully, this is why the combinatronics sequence should be…” and is usually right

- one of the very few members of the overwhelmingly white college campus who can dance, and meets his partner lily at the ballroom dance club or something. has waltzed with George when drunk too. (Alex leads. George is not really happy about it)

- keeps a running excel sheet of who wins the drinking games at the silverstone dorm, where the gang regularly meets

- got in on an aid scholarship and never brags about it. but everyone is aware and knows he is one of the best people ever.

- posts a lot of BeReals about his cat who he misses dearly

I could do more of these but i will stop for now because I don’t know who else wants to read these extremely self-indulgent brainrot thoughts 🤷🏻‍♀️

(i was self indulgent. part 2 here.)

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Charleston

The Siege of Charleston (29 March to 12 May 1780) was a major military operation during the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). Hoping to establish a foothold in the American South, British commander-in-chief Sir Henry Clinton led an attack on Charleston, South Carolina, capturing the city after a six-week siege. It was one of the worst American defeats of the war.

Background: Britain Invades the South

For the first three years of the war, British strategy had focused on the northern United States, with most of the fighting taking place in the New England colonies and Middle Colonies. But after several British campaigns in the north met with failure, Britain shifted its attention to the American South. The south was supposedly bursting with Loyalists, who were awaiting the arrival of a British army to revolt en masse and cast off their revolutionary governments. Additionally, the south produced most of the profitable cash crops of the United States, including indigo, rice, and tobacco. The Americans were using the revenue from these crops to purchase war supplies. If the south were to fall under British control, therefore, the Americans would be less capable of funding their war effort.

Sir Henry Clinton, commander-in-chief of the British army in North America, decided to probe the American defenses in the south before committing to a full-scale invasion. In November 1778, he dispatched a small expeditionary force of 3,500 men to seize control of Savannah, Georgia. On 29 December, after a brief skirmish with the Americans, the British captured Savannah before consolidating their foothold in the south by occupying the surrounding towns. But their control of Georgia would not go unchallenged, as Major General Benjamin Lincoln, commander of the Southern Department of the Continental Army, was determined to prevent the state from falling back under British subjugation. After joining forces with 4,000 French troops under Charles Henri Hector, Comte d’Estaing, Lincoln laid siege to Savannah on 16 September 1779. But the siege took longer than anticipated and d’Estaing, anxious that his fleet was left vulnerable to British attack, grew impatient and ordered a direct assault. However, the Franco-American assault on Savannah, which took place on 9 October 1779, was bloodily repulsed. The dispirited allies abandoned the siege of Savannah shortly thereafter, leaving Georgia in British hands.

When Clinton heard the news of the British victory at Savannah, he was elated, referring to it as “the greatest event that has happened in the whole war” (Boatner, 988). The Savannah experiment having proved successful, Clinton immediately turned his attention toward a larger prize: Charleston, South Carolina. Boasting a population of 12,000 residents, Charleston was one of the four most important cities in British North America (the others being New York, Boston, and Philadelphia). It was the largest city in the south, its bustling port the center of much of the region’s wealth. Clinton himself had tried to capture it three years earlier but had been defeated at the Battle of Sullivan’s Island (28 June 1776); he was not about to let the city defeat him a second time. On 26 December 1779, Clinton placed German General Wilhelm von Knyphausen in charge of British-occupied New York City, leaving him with 10,000 men. Clinton, his second-in-command Lord Charles Cornwallis, and the remaining 8,500 British and German soldiers then boarded a fleet of 90 transport ships sitting in New York Harbor. Escorted by 14 Royal Navy warships under Vice Admiral Marriot Arbuthnot, the transports then weighed anchor and set sail for Charleston.

Continue reading...

[chaos-coming]

We settled out of court for the money he owed me plus 6 weeks of salary, which is less than i wanted but nowhere did i actually sign that i waive my right to give my case to the government anyway, so...

Going into negotiations with my shit ass manager today... been having anxiety sweats all morning