#Australian Terrorist

[simeonscott]

Jungle Patrol.

[news4dzhozhar]

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Here is an example:

Israel: *conducts an indiscriminate terrorist attack that kills an 8 year old girl.*

Australian National Broadcaster: *cheers*

It's really just not fair how obviously the world devalues arab lives. All these news stories call the pager explosions as "impressive"... it's just not fair. I don't know how else to say it. It's not fair that arab deaths are celebrated on an international scale.

[bisexualforestfire]

It’s so weird learning about 1940s-1990s Israel vs Palestine with everything going on.

It just feels like:

Palestinian people do something a little bit rebellious (not counting anything that’s Pal on Pal or any terrorism) and then the Israeli army just shoots out live amo

It just constantly feels like you’re with a really dramatic friend who overreacts all the time

[xtruss]

Folks! See The War Crimes of The Terrorist, Fascist and Genocidal Zionist 🐖 🐷 🐗!

Palestinian outlets have reported that an Israeli attack on a vehicle south of Deir al-Balah in central Gaza killed five aid workers affiliated with World Central Kitchen (WCK).

According to the reports, the organisation was coordinating with Israeli authorities preparing to receive its first aid ship coming to Gaza via sea. Just today a ship arrived in the newly created pier by Israel and WCK was offloading it and working to distribute it.

Four of the five killed are British, Australian, Polish and Palestinian. The nationally of the fifth person still unknown.

The Isra-heili Terrorist Military has not yet commented.

[chaosordoffl]

Holding up the alleged acts of October 7 as reason enough for the discriminate indiscriminate slaughter when over ten times that have been killed. As if we haven't seen the ministers, media, influencers, soldiers, and random socmed traulers baying for more blood. As if the land theft and person theft haven't been ongoing for decades. As if Bibi didn't hold up that genocidal map. As if we haven't seen the laughter at the death and suffering of children. Like,,,, you know we can see you? Right?

[brexiiton]

Teen 'cannot remember' stabbing father to death at Melbourne train station

By Cassandra Morgan, AAP, 3:46pm Oct 2, 2023

A teenager who fatally stabbed a father at a train station in Melbourne's outer suburbs says he has no recollection of the deadly attack.

The 19-year-old, who was 17 at the time of the stabbing, was drunk and potentially on drugs when he approached 40-year-old Adam Cassar at Melton train station in the early hours of December 29, 2021.

Cassar appeared to be in the middle of changing clothes before the teenager followed him with a large knife and stabbed him, leaving him with a 10-centimetre wound.

Police at the scene in Melton South after the attack. (Nine)

The 40-year-old ran off and made it to a nearby house where he ultimately bled to death, while the teenager appeared none the wiser about the man's death and left the station with a group of boys, a Victorian court was told on Monday.

The teenager had no recollection of the attack because he was affected by alcohol and likely drugs at the time, his barrister said.

"We have no instructions, because he has no memory," the barrister told the court.

The teenager - who cannot be identified because he was underage at the time of the stabbing - came from his home in NSW to Melbourne in December 2021 to visit his mother.

The pair had a fractured relationship given she had abandoned her son, and whatever he hoped to get out of their meeting didn't eventuate, the teenager's barrister said.

Instead, he "wrote himself off then wound up at the station" before stabbing the stranger for an unclear reason and looking for a way back to his mother's home.

The teenager was extradited from NSW to Victoria, where he was in May this year found guilty of manslaughter.

Cassar's daughter, who lives interstate, said she and her father didn't always see eye to eye, but his killer took away his chance to make things right.

In a victim impact statement she read to the court, she described the teenager as heartless and said she didn't think she would make it to court years after her father's death as she struggled with depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts.

"He stripped away my dad's opportunities of finding love, meeting my future children one day and even seeing me get married," she told the court.

"I don't think any mother should have to help their child bury their father when they're 20 years old."

The now 22-year-old started studying mental health before her father's death in a bid to ultimately help people like him, but struggled to continue with the course in the wake of his killing, she said.

Cassar's father also required full-time care after his son's death.

The teenager's barrister said the 19-year-old's feelings of abandonment led him to use alcohol and drugs, and his recent diagnosis of ADHD went some way to explaining his impulsive decision making.

A judge is due to sentence the teenager later this month.

Readers seeking support can contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or beyond blue on 1300 22 4636.

[hlmoorewrites]

We didn't even get a chance to mourn.

I saw news articles about people celebrating the slaughter of 1400 innocent people, hours before I even had a chance to really understand the extent of the atrocities Hamas committed.

My mother was the one who told me that she had finally heard from her relatives in Israel - that her cousin managed to hide in a closet with her newborn baby and dog while she heard Hamas terrorists ransacking her home.

And people were fucking celebrating. Handing out candy in the streets. Lighting flares and fireworks.

The State Premier arranged for the Sydney Opera House to be lit up in blue and white in commemoration and solidarity for the attack. We didn't even get a chance to gather on the steps of the Opera House and mourn because a fucking Pro-Palestinian rally rioted that same day through the city and the crowd chanted "Gas the Jews". Israel hadn't even declared a retaliation yet. We hadn't even learned how many hostages were taken.

I was mocked and belittled by a prominent Australian politics blog right here on Tumblr because I begged it to include just one line about the hostages, amidst their essay calling for a ceasefire.

We didn't even get a chance to mourn. Instead, we had to bury the grief and go on the defense, to once again advocate for Israel's basic right to exist, for Israel's right to self defense, for the hostages, for the safety of the Diaspora.

We didn't even get a chance to mourn.

I will never forgive the world for that. Never.

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 8 April 2013, former Conservative prime minister Margaret Thatcher died. Street parties broke out across the UK, particularly in working class areas and in former mining communities which were ravaged by her policies. Her legacy is best remembered for her destruction of the British workers' movement, after the defeat of the miners' strike of 1984-85. This enabled the drastic increase of economic inequality and unemployment in the 1980s. Her government also slashed social housing, helping to create the situation today where it is unavailable for most people, and private property prices are mostly unaffordable for the young. Thatcher also complained that children were "being cheated of a sound start in life" by being taught that "they have an inalienable right to be gay", so she introduced the vicious section 28 law prohibiting teaching of homosexuality as acceptable. Abroad, Thatcher was a powerful advocate for racism, advising the Australian foreign minister to beware of Asians, else his country would "end up like Fiji, where the Indian migrants have taken over". She hosted apartheid South Africa's head of state, while denouncing the African National Congress as a "typical terrorist organisation". Chilean dictator general Augusto Pinochet, responsible for the rape, murder and torture of tens of thousands of people, was a close personal friend. Back in Britain, she protected numerous politicians accused of paedophilia including Sir Peter Hayman, and MPs Peter Morrison and Cyril Smith. She also lobbied for her friend, serial child abuser Jimmy Savile, to be knighted despite being warned about his behaviour. Margaret Thatcher was eventually forced to step down after the defeat of her hated poll tax by a mass non-payment campaign. Pictured: Jimmy Savile welcoming Thatcher to hell, reportedly. Learn more about the great miners' strike of 1984-5 in our podcast series: https://workingclasshistory.com/tag/1984-5-miners-strike/ https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=605239344982618&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[charliemwrites]

Introducing: Rook “Duke” Alistair

(Just a little character intro before she makes a proper appearance in the SpecGru fic)

It’s 2am.

It’s 2am and Kate’s phone is buzzing. A rapid, violent bzzt-bzzt-bzzzzzzt pattern that shakes the few other items on the nightstand. Incessant. Important.

She plucks it off the charger already wide awake, propped on one elbow to block some of the screen light from reaching the other side of the bed.

“Laswell,” she answers, hushed.

The voice on the other end is not. “Gooood mornin’, boss.”

“It’s 2am, Duke.”

“It’s 2:17 to be precise.”

Kate doesn’t bother to check the clock. “You're calling for a good reason, I assume.”

“Of course!” In the background, there’s a computerized ding. Then the clacking of a keyboard. Duke continues, still bright as birdsong, “I have a lead on that terrorist cell. Not - hold on - Nelson, put my slushee back in there I’ll get it in a damn minute! Anyway, not the one with the ugly flag. The one with the dumb name.”

Nelson, Kate thinks vaguely, is going to get mysteriously transferred if he doesn’t stop messing with a certain tech’s frozen treats. This is the third time this week.

“The Gun Fathers?” she offers.

“Haha, yeah them!” More clicking. A thump and a yelp in the background. “They’re planning on taking some exchange students hostage in Russia.”

Kate’s slips out of bed, phone held in place with her shoulder. Sighs a little wistfully at her wife’s sleeping form, but duty calls. She’ll make this up to her - dinner at that nice tapas place, maybe. Duke can get them a reservation.

“What students?”

“Working on the individual files now, but it looks like a fun mix. Some Australians, some Brits, a bunch of US citizens… ooh, someone from France, that’s rough.”

Hell, that’s a lot of governments to coordinate with.

“Where?” Kate asks, tugging her socks on.

“Looks like they’re going to grab them from a hotel in the Caucuses. Caucuses? Cauc-ussies? Cucksies?”

She pauses to drop a gentle kiss to her wife’s cheek, then pads out of their bedroom. The house is dark, cool. She navigates without light, stepping into her shoes.

“How many?”

The cats stretch as she passes through the living room, snatching her shoulder holster out of the hall closet.

“16 students total, not sure how many terrorists. Aw, is Chauncey awake? Give him a smooch for me! These dummies usually go for a ratio of three innocents to one dummy though. Ugh it’s not a round number.”

More clacking. The sound of a plastic rapper through the earpiece. Duke’s broken out the candies then.

“What else have you got for me?”

“It looks like we’ve got about 35 hours until they move in. But! We confiscated their new supply of guns during that border raid soooooo—” she clicks her tongue, the typing sounds get much louder and faster for a moment. “They should be… pretty… low… on… ammo…”

A pause Duke seems to focus on something. Kate takes the opportunity to finish’s dressing, keys in her hand. She pats Chauncey and Augustus as she passes them.

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” she says.

A hum. “Eleven, actually. I have the traffic system pulled up.”

Of course she does. Laswell would tell her to stop doing that if she thought it would do any good.

“I’m sending a bunch of files your way,” Duke adds. “Drive safe and give Chauncey that damn smooch!”

The phone beeps as the call disconnects. When Kate looks at her phone screen, she’s got a small library of information waiting for her. Names, locations, pictures and security feeds - and a note promising more on the way.

Next

Masterlist

[opencommunion]

When I refer to zionists as textbook genocide denialists, btw, I'm talking about literal textbooks I was assigned in my genocide studies classes. Here's an excerpt from one, Genocide: A Comprehensive Introduction by Adam Jones, detailing common genocide denialist arguments. I've bolded arguments that I've personally heard from zionists (including ‘neutral’ fence-sitters, who are on the side of the oppressor by default) — during the current Gaza genocide, but also in reference to the entire history of the genocidal zionist occupation. It's important to learn to recognize these arguments and call them what they are, genocide denial, rather than excusing denialists as simply misinformed or misguided.

"Among the most common discourses of genocide denial are the following: 'Hardly anybody died.' Reports of atrocities and mass killings are depicted as exaggerated and self-serving. ... Photographic and video evidence is dismissed as fake or staged. Gaps in physical evidence are exploited, particularly an absence of corpses. Where are the bodies of the Jews killed by the Nazis? (Incinerated, conveniently for the deniers.) Where are the bodies of the thousands of Kosovars supposedly killed by Serbs in 1999? (Buried on military and police bases, or dumped in rivers and down mineshafts, as it transpired.) When the genocides lie far in the past, obfuscation is easier. Genocides of indigenous peoples are especially subject to this form of denial. In many cases, the groups in question suffered near-total extermination, leaving few descendants and advocates to press the case for truth. 'It was self-defense.' 'The onset of [genocidal] killing,' wrote Jacques Sémelin, 'almost always seems to involve this astounding sleight of hand that assimilates the destruction of civilians with a perfectly legitimate act of war. From that moment on, massacre becomes an act of self-defense.' Murdered civilians - especially adult males – are depicted as 'rebels,' 'brigands,' 'partisans,' 'terrorists.' The state and its allies are justified in eliminating them, though unfortunate 'excesses' may occur. Deniers of the Armenian genocide, for example, play up the presence of armed elements and resistance among the Armenian population – even clearly defensive resistance. ... Genocide may also be depicted as an act of pre-emptive self-defense, based on atrocities, actual or alleged, inflicted on the perpetrator group in the past – sometimes the very distant past. Sémelin, for example, has explained Serbs’ 'insensitivit[y] to the suffering they caused' in the Balkan genocide of the 1990s in terms of their inability to perceive any but 'their own woes' ... A substrategy of this discourse is the claim that 'the violence was mutual.' Where genocides occur in a context of civil or international war, they can be depicted as part of generalized warfare, perhaps featuring atrocities on all sides. This strategy is standard among the deniers of genocides by Turks, Japanese, Serbs, Hutus, and West Pakistanis – to name just a few. In Australia, Keith Windschuttle used killings of whites by Aboriginals to denounce 'The Myths of Frontier Massacres in Australian History.' ... Sometimes the deniers seem oblivious to the content of their claims, reflecting deeply embedded stereotypes and genuine ignorance, rather than malicious intent – as with the CNN reporter who blithely referred to the world standing by and 'watch[ing] Hutus and Tutsis kill each other' during the Rwandan genocide of 1994.

'The deaths weren’t intentional.' The difficulties of demonstrating and documenting genocidal intent are exploited to deny that genocide occurred. The utility of this strategy is enhanced where a longer causal chain underpins mass mortality. Thus, when diverse factors combine to cause death, or when supposedly 'natural' elements such as disease and famine account for many or most deaths, a denialist discourse is especially appealing. It buttresses most denials of indigenous genocides, for example. Deniers of the Armenian and Jewish holocausts also contend that most deaths occurred from privations and afflictions that were inevitable, if regrettable, in a wartime context – in any case, not genocidal.

'There was no central direction.' Frequently, states and their agents establish deniability by running off-duty death squads, or employing freelance forces such as paramilitaries (as in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Darfur), criminal elements (e.g., the chétés in the Armenian genocide), and members of the targeted groups themselves (Jewish kapos in the Nazi death camps; Mayan peasants conscripted for genocide against Mayan populations of the Guatemalan highlands). State attempts to eliminate evidence may mean that documentation of central direction, as of genocidal intent, is scarce. Many deniers of the Jewish Holocaust emphasize the lack of a clear order from Hitler or his top associates to exterminate European Jews. Armenian genocide denial similarly centers on the supposed freelance status of those who carried out whatever atrocities are admitted to have occurred.

'There weren’t that many people to begin with.' [*] Where demographic data provide support for claims of genocide, denialists will gravitate towards the lowest available figures for the targeted population, or invent new ones. The effect is to cast doubt on mortality statistics by downplaying the victims’ demographic weight at the outbreak of genocide. This strategy is especially common in denials of genocide against indigenous peoples, as well as the Ottoman genocide of Christian minorities.

'It wasn’t/isn’t genocide, because ...' Here, the ambiguities of the UN Genocide Convention are exploited, and combined with the denial strategies already cited. Atrocious events do not qualify as 'genocide' … because the victims were not members of one of the Convention’s specified groups; because their deaths were unintended; because they were legitimate targets; because 'only' specific sectors of the target group (e.g., 'battle-age' men) were killed; because 'war is hell;' and so on. 'We would never do that.' Collective pathological narcissism occludes recognition, or even conscious consideration, of genocidal culpability. When the state and its citizens consider themselves pure, peaceful, democratic, and lawabiding, responsibility for atrocity may be literally unthinkable. In Turkey, notes Taner Akçam, anyone 'dar[ing] to speak about the Armenian Genocide ... is aggressively attacked as a traitor, singled out for public condemnation and may even be put in prison.' In Australia, 'the very mention of an Australian genocide is … appalling and galling and must be put aside,' according to Colin Tatz. 'A curious national belief is that simply being Australian, whether by birth or naturalisation, is sufficient inoculation against deviation from moral and righteous behaviour.' Comedian Rob Corddry parodied this mindset in the context of US abuses and atrocities at Abu Ghraib prison near Baghdad. 'There’s no question what took place in that prison was horrible,' Corddry said on The Daily Show. 'But the Arab world has to realize that the US shouldn’t be judged on the actions of a ... well, we shouldn’t be judged on actions. It’s our principles that matter, our inspiring, abstract notions. Remember: just because torturing prisoners is something we did, doesn’t mean it’s something we would do.'

'We are the real victims.' For deniers, the best defense is often a strong offense. With its 'Day of Fallen Diplomats,' Turkey uses Armenian terrorist attacks against Turkish diplomatic staff to pre-empt attention to the Turkish genocide against Armenians. In the case of Germany and the Nazi Holocaust, there is a point at which a victim mentality concentrating on German suffering leads to the horrors that Germans inflicted, on Jews and others, being downgraded or denied. In the Balkans, a discourse of genocide was first deployed by Serb intellectuals promoting a nationalist–xenophobic project; the only 'genocide' admitted was that against Serbs, whether by Croatians in the Second World War (which indeed occurred), or in Kosovo at the hands of the Albanian majority (which was a paranoid fantasy). Notably, this stress on victimhood provided powerful fuel for unleashing the genocides in the first place." * Zionists make two demographic claims to deny genocide, and specifically to deny the Nakba: the first parallels what Jones says here — that there weren't many (or even any) Palestinians ("Arabs") in Palestine to begin with, and/or mass expulsions were actually voluntary migration. The second is a reversal, where zionists point to demographic data and claim that Palestinian population growth must mean genocide never occurred (as if genocide survivors aren't capable of having children). For further reading on Nakba denial specifically, Nur Masalha's work is a good place to start, especially The Palestine Nakba (2012), Politics of Denial (2003), A Land Without A People (1997), and Expulsion of the Palestinians (1992).

[xtruss]

Former Australian Premier Paul Keating © Mick Tsikas-Pool/Getty Images

Former Australian Prime Minister: North Atlantic Terrorist Organization (NATO) Is ‘Malicious Poison’

Paul Keating has argued that the military bloc should remain confined to Europe and the Atlantic and not try to expand into Asia

North Atlantic Terrorist Organization (NATO) has no place in Asia and should stick to its original focus, that is the security of the Transatlantic region, Former Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating has argued. The Labour politician, who served in office from 1991 to 1996, also warned against attempts to “Circumscribe” China.

In his statement published on Sunday, Keating appeared to refer to a recent report in Politico, which claimed French President Emmanuel Macron had blocked North Atlantic Terrorist Organization’s plans to establish a liaison office in Japan.

The former premier lauded the French head of state for “Doing the World a Service” by apparently emphasizing the military bloc’s focus on Europe and the Atlantic.

According to Keating, the alliance’s very existence past the end of the Cold War “has already denied peaceful unity to the broader Europe.”

A Criminal Family Photograph on the first day of the 2023 North Atlantic Terror Organization (NATO) Summit on July 11, 2023 in Vilnius, Lithuania 🇱🇹. © Paulius Peleckis/Getty Images

Exporting such “Malicious Poison to Asia would be akin to Asia welcoming the Plague Upon Itself,” he insisted. The former prime minister warned that NATO’s presence on the continent would negate most of the region’s recent advances.

Keating went on to describe North Atlantic Terrorist Organization Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg as the “Supreme Fool Terrorist” on the international stage who is conducting himself like an “American Agent.”

He cited a comment Stoltenberg made back in February when he called for the West not to repeat the “MISTAKE” it had made with regard to Russia, suggesting it should work to contain China.

The former Australian leader noted that the NATO chief conveniently ignored the fact that “China represents twenty per cent of humanity and now possesses the largest economy in the world.” He added that Beijing, unlike Washington, “has no record of attacking other states.”

Over the weekend, Politico cited an anonymous Elysee Palace official who claimed that Paris is against NATO expansion beyond the North Atlantic. “NATO means North Atlantic Terrorist (Treaty) Organization,” the French presidential staffer reportedly emphasized.

Back in May, the Japanese ambassador to the US, Koji Tomita, revealed that his country was working toward opening a NATO liaison office in Tokyo, which would become the bloc’s first in Asia. Prime Minister Fumio Kishida confirmed the plans to Japanese lawmakers, noting that Tokyo did not intend to join the US-led organization.

Commenting on the news, Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Mao Ning advised NATO against “Extending Its Geopolitical reach.” The diplomat pointed out that the “Asia-Pacific does not welcome bloc confrontation or military blocs.”

— Monday July 10, 2023, RT

[ashascoven]

❃☆ showering w/ the pyromaniac rat man ☆❃ pt. 1

☆ so hi!! um!! welcome to my first fanfic lolz (im nervous about posting this can you tell ?!?! o(*°▽°*)o)

☆ im rlly new to posting on tumblr, but ive been reading fanfics on here for a WHILE!! it's inspired me to write a silly one about my favorite lanky robber <3 if theres any mistakes, PLEASE hit my line abt it (i beg)

☆ here is part 2, which is smut/nsfw, also on my profile!

☆ FANFIC DEETS! junkratxreader ☆

reader is a female who's known for working with plants

VERY lengthy build-up fanfic (LOTS of reading, buckle up yall)

fluff??

emotional stuff, but nothing intense (??)

first time writing an australian accent, pls lmk if anythings weird!!

hope u enjoy :,D

“Hggshmmshh.. peeaachh c-c.. cobbler.. mmh.. eeheeheeheh!! Piee..”

“Dammit! Move over, rat-ass!” 

You felt as if you had finally managed to doze off only a couple minutes ago. 

One second you're about to drift away into a somewhat decent sleep, counting flying sheep and letting your drool start to fall.

The next, you're getting whacked in the head with a metallic hand or shoved by a wooden peg in one of your sides.

Having to share a bed with a loudly snoring pyro-freak who reeked of gunpowder and body odor was not a promising night of rest, especially in a room of pure humidity and sweat. 

The mattress beneath you two was unbalanced and squeaky, the walls surrounding it adorning overgrowing vines and tears in its paper.

His twisting, turning, n’ noises didn't make it any better, but it was kind of reassuring in the sense that you weren't sleeping alone.

When was the last time he even showered anyway? 

Does this man know how to?

How does he sleep like this?

The more you questioned the Australian in your head, the more his body managed to keep sprawling across the queen sized mattress you two shared. 

Both his normal and prosthetic limbs jabbed at your back, his armed belt straps and gauntlets not contributing to your comfort whatsoever. 

“Fucking- MOVE!”

You gripped at the bed and gave him one kick in the ass with your bare foot. 

The maniac yelped himself into a giggling fit, somehow still remaining asleep. 

God, what's his secret to being such a happy sleeper?

With one last scoff, you nearly pushed him off of the bed, but you didn't think twice about it.

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your previous position with your back facing him, crossing your arms and trying to let your eyes close again.

You thought about the mission you two were given together, recalling it hundreds of times in your head to hopefully quench at your inability to have a comfortable sleep.

Back at one of those Overwatch HQ meetings, they discussed wanting to try something new while still maintaining everyone's duties. 

Experimenting with how different heroes and scientists worked one-on-one with one another for “observational purposes,” they said.

Gibberish about increasing the rate of productivity within our cause by cutting down our dispatched team sizes.. 

“More groups of heroes can get sent out on more missions if distributed differently..!”

Blah-blah-blah..

You ignored all of the blabbering at the time, your ears only ever being open for what sounded most important and intriguing.

“It'll be an educational experience for great future references-” 

You reaaaallyy didn't think you'd be in one of the duo dispatches, yet here you were, somehow still in the flesh.

All that was asked of you both was to keep a watch out for anything suspicious at some abandoned town in the middle of who-even-fucking-knows.

Wooden huts n’ houses that were falling apart, yet they somehow still formed and held a small community of humble elders.

Supposedly, this place was a possible target of some well-feared terrorist group, and “Grandpa Jack” wanted you two to scout.

Discussion about exposed plans for making sure as many innocent people as possible experienced war “too” made your blood boil. 

It didn't make sense to you, the whole “no pain, no gain” mindset.

Clearly these people chose to live all the way out here to get AWAY from the danger, why force that on some old people anyway?

With their lack of clean drinking water and functioning power in an empty desert, you were sure they've already seen enough.

“Haven't we lost thousands of innocent civilians already? Omnic or not, they can't just keep coming up with all of this frivolous shit and throw it at us..!”

You grumbled to yourself outloud, unconsciously turning to face the ultimate rat that was laying behind you.

“Why would they send us here if they KNEW there were people out here who needed help? Wasting precious time by sending two of us out here instead of a whole team is beyond me, honestly! We'll just keep getting killed and..” 

Your eyes ended up catching onto your distorted reflection on the goggles that Jamison wore to bed.

It made you trail off and unball your fists, causing you to think about the old people again.

You thought about how much you were gonna get onto HQ's ass to seek a better home for them all.

They were sweet to you and Jamie, and you were pretty sure he would try to take one or two to keep as parents of his own.

Considering he didn't have any living ones anymore, it would check out.

Your eyes wandered off onto the flickering of the dying light bulb hanging bare off the ceiling.

The bulb hung right behind mister sleeping beauty, holding on by torn wires.

You were surprised your sleeping partner hadn't managed to somehow pull it down in his sleep yet. The thought made you smile for a bit, letting your face rest.

Then, your hand reached up to Jamison's face. 

You didn't think much about it since your mind was more on other things still, but you unconsciously held his cheek.

You watched as he smiled in his sleep, gently putting his own hands on yours and nuzzling into your touch. 

The feeling of his rough palm against your skin along with the metal of his other one sent a chill through your body, but you didn't pull away.

Just looking at him resting like a baby put your mind at ease for a bit.. It helped calm your grumpiness from not being able to sleep these past few nights.

It’s been the longest mission yet, and also the first one that you’ve slept together with a person you were sent with.

You ran your thumb over his lightly chapped bottom lip, your mind finally winding itself down.

You two had somewhat of a record of being assigned missions together, but you were never as close to each other as this. 

Something about the way your silly acquaintance slept carelessly in front of you was strangely inviting.

You swallowed your emotions and repressed your urges to suddenly hug the rat man, drawing your thumb lower to his chin. 

You ran it over his speckled face hair, still letting him hug your arm. 

“Mmmmh.. G-gosh, so.. so waaarmm..! waarmm like a maarshmaallooww.. eheeh..!!”

He chuckled in his sleep as his hugging turned into more aggressive snuggling.

It made you wonder if he'd remember anything once he woke up.

Outside of those thoughts, you were heavily caught off guard.

You didn't know if you wanted to comfortingly rub at his hair, continue holding his face, or try to hug him entirely.

Internally? You wanted to do all of those things, but it didn't feel right yet.

Despite all the deep talks you've had with Jamie on the drives and flights to missions together, you guys were still just friends at work, right?

Would it be weird to treat a friend as such? 

Did he think you two were even friends?

You always had a tendency to overthink the simplest of things.

Questions would fog your mind the split second a minor inconvenience popped up, you struggled to help that “problem” all your life.

Yet, your time spent with him so far made it feel like your questioning wasn't a problem at all. 

You always wanted to know the specifics and the “why” or “how” in anything that interested you.

Jamison was similar. He fed into your talks about figuring out what's after death, your master-list of alternatives to milk JUST for enjoying it with cereal. your wonders about what being an omnic felt like, and even your rambles about plants having feelings.

He was so invested into the plant talk that he now avoids stepping on anything green to show you that he cared about nature's heart too.

He admired your outlook on everything, the way you approach things by being your real self.

He also liked that you didn't look down on him for having an explosive personality. 

Everyone else at HQ had something against the lanky robber, but you didn't hate him at all. You two matched each other in the way that you were both transparent and almost always had a fixation or a story to share.

His eyes practically turned into sparkles whenever you two got into your deep conspiracy talks because no one else bothered to entertain his yappering about bombs, especially with mutual ranting about something else.

It was nice, soo..

You guys had to at least be friends, right?

“Mate! Earth’s waitin’ for your grand return! Ya aren’t dead yet.. Are ya, plant woman?”

Friends.. Yeah. You thought you two were cool buddies for all it’s worth.

“Aye! I knooow, me charmin’ physique’s too much to take in aaall at ooonce but-!”

It’s crazy how you were thinking about his eyes sparkling because.. Huh, how come they’re doing it right now?

“I can’t have ya dyin’ on me yet.. Ain’t no doctors around to come and shock ya awake!”

Gosh, who knew the local bombardier had such a twinkle to his eyes anyway?

“Is yer brain workin’? Want me to.. rewire it for ya?”

Twinkle.. twinkle.. twinkle..~

“Well, she’ll be apples! Ya goootta snap outta it mate! What is it ya want this time? An autograph? Some lollies? Aye! Aye..!”

You were so zoned out into the thought of his eyes, you didn’t even register that you were now actually looking at them; he had woken up.

Your hand was still on his face too, but he wasn’t hugging it anymore. 

His robotic right hand was knocking the top of your head lightly while his skinned left one was holding your cheek. 

His facial expression was one of concern despite his messy blonde hair and some drool glistening off the side of his mouth.

With the way he clearly scooted closer to you, you two were actually really close to each other this time.

“Woaahh.. Ooh.. Oh..? OH!!” You froze up again, covering your mouth and (almost literally) getting knocked out of your trance.

“Whew!” Jamison sighed in relief.

“There's me’ plant woman! Turns out me charm was too much for ya to handle afteraaalll!” He chuckled, quickly shifting into a lounging model pose and striking you a sly grin.

“O-Oh.. Oh my gosh! H-How long was I like that?” You panicked a little, wiping sweat from your forehead and quickly rubbing it into the tail of your shirt.

“Since me eyes opened up! Let's say.. ‘bout half a’ hour?”

“H-half an hour?!?”

“Yeah! Are ya alright? Did ya think me eyes were THAT gorgeous?” He chuckled, rubbing his chin. 

“Pshh..” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms once again.

“It’s alright if ya think so! I think so too! But, ya aren’t allowed to tell me fans that! Ehehe~!” He grinned, suddenly wrapping his arms around you and jokingly snuggling his head against the top of yours.

“E-eugh!! Fans my ass! Wait until they find out that you probably don't even wash yours, you stinky!” You exclaimed, trying to push your way out of his arms but to no avail.

“S-stinky?!?! Hey-! There's a’ supa’ top secret special essence in me junker way o’ livin..! T-the cleanest ya'd ever know!! How 'bout ya take a smell~!??” He challenged, immediately shoving his arm pits in your face and keeping you in his grasp.

“GOD! Quit it!! You smell terrible-! Ugh!!! Let me go right now!”

“Nuh-uh! Hatin’ on me wondrous magnificence ain't nice!”

“Your breath's gonna kill me, you bastard! Agh!! You literally need a bath!!!” You were muffling into his arms, trying to push him away even harder. 

You managed to push yourself upwards, but you still were trapped in his grasp as he giggled n’ snuggled away. 

As much as you hated to admit it, his silliness was really comforting, charming in it's own way even.

Yeah.. he didn't smell the best, but!!.. He was kind of fun to be around. It was hardly ever boring around the rat man.

“Fine, whatever,” You sighed, no longer fighting to leave his sweaty arms.

“Your eyes are.. nice to look at. Anyway, I'm tired and somehow comfortable in this position so if you move weirdly, I'm pushing you off the bed.”

He loudly gasped, his eyes widening and sparkling so much so that you could've sworn staring directly into them would've blinded you.

“Y-ya really m-mean it?!!?!! A-about.. me eyes?!? OoooOOoohh~! I.. H-How I could jus’ kis-”

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his head. His face was buried into your chest while his arms were still around you.

You felt him freeze, his immediate blush against your chest practically able to burn through you. He didn't scream or pull away, just sat there for a bit, shocked at someone hugging him back for once.

You sighed out again in content, now leaning your face on top of his head. His hair felt surprisingly soft against your cheek, but he still smelled bad.

“God, you smell so terrible.. but.. you're kinda.. comfy and..- Okay you're actually very comfy what the hell.” 

You gushed, your leaning turning into you practically snuggling against his hair.

The rat man stayed frozen in his position, shock taking over his body. For once, it wasn't one of those triggering shocks that turned his trauma into adrenaline; it was a.. refreshing kind of shock? The kind that was making him realize how starved from affection he really was for so long.

He felt like a deer mesmerized by headlights.

“If only you didn't move so much in your sleep, tsk tsk.. I can totally get over the strong burnt tire smell for how snuggly your hair is thoug-”

“Ihh shay..”

He suddenly muffled through your chest, but quieter than his normal tone.

“Eh?”

One of his fingers twitched.

“..Ihh shay shihh!”

“Fucking- Get out of there and spit it out!”

You pouted, pulling his face out of your chest’s cave to look him in the eyes and hear him properly.

“I-I’ll stay.. still! m-mighty still.. i-if ya keep on.. rubbin’ that pretty face on ma’ skull.. p-please? please mate!!”

‘Absolutely the fuck not!’ is what you almost instinctively said, but something about this weird man’s vulnerability around you gave you a feeling his request wasn’t ill intended. 

He nudged you into a softer tone towards him for the night, so you silently raised a brow. He kept pleading, his sparkling eyes bouncing between you and the rest of the room.

“I-I ain't had anyone.. touch me ‘air, l-let alone me whole body i-in years! Feels comfortin’- so- i- uh- p-please mate! i won't be buggin’ ya’ rest any longer i-if ya felt kind ‘nough to.. perhaps grant me thee honor-!?”

“I’m doing it, so hush up.”

“Y-yes m’lady”

He quickly blurted out, before burying his face back in-between your chest with a relieved giggle.

“Hah, for someone who goes by being a rat, you're sure acting like a puppy right now.”

“Y-ya really think so!?”

“Yeah sure, but- hmph, the ‘junk’ part still applies. I'm so close to dragging you into a bath myself..”

“>:(“

“Wait.. This kinda gives me an idea..” 

A mischievous grin growing on your face as you mumbled to yourself.

“Whaddya say?”

He grumbled, oblivious to your scheming. You slowly tried pulling away from him, but to no avail.. He unconsciously scooted closer into your arms with each pull.

“..nothing, ratty-poo.” 

You pushed him away quickly with your hands now gripping his shoulders.

“A-ay mate! W-whaddya push me away foorrr? I was enjoyin’ me time in there.. :(“

He yelped in response, his arms now crossing with a pout.

“No more snuggling until you take a bath!”

“W-whuh!?”

“I'm not cuddling your hair until you wash it.”

“..noooo :((“

“No shower, no snuggle!!”

“:(((... Fine..”

“W-wait- You're giving in that easil-?”

“JUNK ATTACK!!!!”

He yelled, diving back into your chest with his arms around your waist once again. You scoffed, not cuddling or holding him back.

“Rat-ass.”

“Y-yes m-m’lady..??”

“I'm giving you five seconds to get off of me, or I'll kick you off.-”

“N-no!! P-please mate!-”

“I'll go and grab a bucket of ice cold water to throw at you so help me you don't mov-”

You've never seen a tall grown man back up to the edge of a bed so quickly.

“GO.”

You yelled, pointing violently at the bathroom door.

“NEIN!”

“I SAID GO!”

“NO!”

“You want more cuddles from me, right, ratty-poo..?~”

Your tone softened as you twirled your hair and pleaded your eyes at him.

“I- u-uh- y-yes m-m'lady but-”

“THEN GO BATHE!”

He whined another ‘no’ in response, crossing his legs and arms while looking away.

You sighed, before crawling across the bed and hooking your arm around his.

“Lord.. What am I gonna do with you..”

“W-well I- AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!”

“GET YOUR ASS IN THAT SHOWER JAMIE!!”

You yelled again as you held him in a headlock position.

As he whined, you held him there for a bit, thinking.

“Hmm..”

“You l-let go of me t-this instant mate! T-the junkers back in me home town w-wont be pleased with how you're behavin’ towards me greatnes-”

“What if we took a bath together?”

“-and once they find out what you've- huh-!?!”

“You and me, we bathe together. I'll literally help you clean up if it means you won't stink in bed.”

You said casually as you quickly faced him towards you and dropped him onto the bed. He landed on his back with his arms above his head while you sat on top of him.

Questionable position if you may, but you dare not complain about the view.

He was too in shock to notice it either.

He stared at you wide eyed. 

He opened his mouth and put a finger up to say something multiple times, only to close it with more thought and look away, his finger curling up and down with each pause.

He thought about the offer for the long time.

Then, he rubbed his chin. You watched carefully, not letting your guard fall in case he felt like randomly wrapping himself around you again.

“Hmph.. if t-that’s what it'll take.. then I suppose a.. mighty handsome fella like me.. wouldn't mind bathin’ with a.. pretty.. f-flower woman like you!”

“Uh huh..-”

“B-but under one of me’ own conditions!”

“.. you're what now-”

“Bath cuddles?”

He clapped his hands together in a praying motion, pleading with those damn sparkly eyes again. It's like he just does it in command at this point..

“God, what are we, a couple?”

You yawned with closed eyes. 

“I-I.. W-well! Your one an’ only gentleman of’uh bombardier wouldn't complain!”

He nervously smiled and blushed, his gold tooth shining comically as he said that.

It earned a giggle out of you, followed with covered mouth mumbling.

‘You’re so silly, it's kind of attractive..’

“Whaddya say, me’ pretty plant-y mistress?”

“I said, you're so silly, it's kind of.. u-uh- cool-? I guess??!? I don't- Mistress!?- I- W-whatever- C’mon, let's go! Into the baaathh we goo..! C’mon c’moonn..”

You spurted out, getting up and dragging him by the arm into the bathroom. 

You didn't really think through the fact that.. this man would be so close to you while you two were undressed.

Oddly enough, he didn't give the vibe of someone who'd try anything, but it was still weird. 

One second you're forced to share a bed with this guy.. And the next? You've convinced him to take a shower with you??? Weird..-o!!

When you two made it, you both kind of just stared at the bathroom and each other for a minute. 

It was a decently sized room, but the entirety of it was a shower.. literal shower room?.. whatever.

There wasn't a sink or toilet like the bathrooms you were used to. 

Instead, there was just one large shower head in the center of the room, a drain in a corner, and tiles that patterned the floor and walls in a creamy gradient. The two handles for the shower were next to the doorway, labeled for their temperatures.

There were also two slim windows higher up on two walls facing each other, slightly cracked for the steam.

The only light you guys had came from either these windows, or from the doorway to the room you shared, so it was acceptably dim.

Some vines creeped through corners here and there, but it was surprisingly much cleaner than the rest of the hut you guys stayed in. The non-direct warm lighting really set the vibe.

As you turned both of the handles halfway, you watched in surprise as the rat man happily stripped at whatever he had on, going for a dive on the shower floor as if it were a kid’s waterslide with a ‘yippee!!’

It immediately followed with a groan of pain from him, and a reactive facepalm from you.

With a sigh of ‘Oh, what I'll even do with him..’ (ironic), you quickly undid your hair and stripped off your clothes while he wasn't looking.

He swiveled around right as you finished, watching in awe as you awkwardly shuffled onto the floor next to him with a travel sized bottle of soap and a mini loofa.

“S-ssheesh..” he gaped, “what a beautiful woman..”

“T-thanks, b-but don't look too hard, silly guy.” You joked lightheartedly and rolled your eyes, your initiative agenda from before going out of the window because of the attractive man in front of you.

The hot steamy water combined with how it washed away some of the rat man’s dirt made his revealed skin slightly harder to not drool over..

..but you fought any urges or sudden fantasies you had right then and there. 

‘It’s just the lack of sleep getting to me,’ you quickly scolded yourself in your head, ‘.. there's no way I shoul- COULD see him like that, yep..’

“You're.. not too shabby yourself..” You muttered to get it out of your system, painfully controlling your hands from wandering. Thankfully, he probablyyy didn't hear you. 

With that, you were getting to work with your soap on his arms, trying not to think too hard about the man before you.

“Caaan I have me cuddlin’ time with ya noooww, plant womaaan?”

“Noo! I just started with you and I'm not done yet, rat-head.. Be patient n’ be quiet.” You grumbled, finishing his arms and scrubbing his back like a concerned mother.

“Pleeeaaaaseeee…????” He covered his eyes and whined as you made way to his torso with your loofah. The scrubber was barely holding on and you weren't anywhere near finished..

“Don't make me tie you down in here just to get you clean, bastard..” You threatened, moving from his back to his front side. You held at one side of his torso, scrubbing away.

He moved his hands from his face to his sides, looking down at you with that puzzled gaze once again. You glanced up at him with a raised brow before looking back down at your work.

You weren't actually all too irritated. Tired, yes, but it was actually kind of destressing being able to work your hands at something like this. 

You were also literally.. bathing a grown ass man, but you'd be lying if you said anything about preferring to be at home, bored and alone.

At least this mission gave you some kind of purpose, and alongside an entertaining goofball as well. It could be much worse, but it really wasn't bad at all which you liked.

Suddenly, he started patting your head, a close eyed grin on his face.

“Oouuhh… M-mate, ya know.. Thanks a lot for this! I appreciate ya’, I really do!”

“Don't sweat it, poo-face, you were already sweating enough in bed anyway..” You chuckled with another playful eye roll.

“If you weren't gonna bathe yourself, something had to be done for BOTH OF us to catch some rest for the mission, and goddess KNOWS I can't sleep with a loud stinky man..” You responded mindlessly, gently grabbing his face by his jaw and scrubbing his neck.

“It gets.. hard sometimes,” he threw his head back with a sigh, “I know I'm supposed ‘tuh.. do it all me’ self but, I lose me’ mind to the world o’ bombs!” He chuckled.

“You don't say…” You coughed with sarcasm, still listening and cleaning. He's used to your personality by now, and he knows you never really mean any harm.

��Oh, but I do! Even with me’ prosthetics, it jus’ makes it harder n’.. I could never fancy the time to.. uh.. keep takin’ em’ on n’ off..”

“..It bugs me, the pain, it's a reeaall.. buggin' feeling, both in me’ arms n’ legs.. n’.. the mind. It does somethin’ to ya, makes people call ya crazy!” He gestured by wiggling his normal arm, then his robotic one in comparison. 

You put his arms down like an annoyed cat, but you weren't actually annoyed, just trying to reach over him to attempt washing his hair.

“..but really ‘m not.. I.. I just resort to.. expressin’ what takes it all away.. and uh! bein’ me!, ya’ kno- Aauh.. T-that feels.. holy..” He cut himself off, sighing in relief. You had bowed his head under the running water for you to better reach him, unknowingly giving him a more direct view of your bare chest. 

“A-Anything to take me’ mind off the.. A-ahem-.. the uh.. rot.. the distinct feelin’ of not bein’ the same as everyone else.. anymore.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly trying not to stare as he spoke, but you didn't think much about it.

“People stay clear of me all the time! N’ they think I don't be noticin’ b-but I do!” He ran a hand through his hair after you moved down to his legs.

“It hurts, but.. I just keep doin’ me’, I try not to stay in me’ past, live for me’ mum, n’ keep it movin’!”

“Oh! That's also why I like ya’ mate!” He smiled, throwing up finger guns.

“Whuh- Really?” You looked at him.

“Yeah! You don't treat me funny for me’ quirks! You always seemed like.. a couple screws loose in somebody’s noggin never bothered ya’! Me’ motors don't drive ya’ wild, do I?” 

“Pshhh… You definitely drive me crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm never down for a wild adventure with you, rat-ass.”

“See? Ya’ get me! I know your tired n’ all, n’ I'm sorry for takin’ away from your beauty rest like this but..” He scratched his chin and sighed, looking to the side.

“Thanks mate, r-really..” He mumbled, shuffling closer and wrapping his arms around you for a genuine hug.

“I- U-uh-.. Your.. welcome? All I've done was treat you like.. a normal human being? As you.. should be?” You awkwardly hugged him back, confused.

You pulled away, your hands on his shoulders.

“Despite our friendship, I don't know what it is you've REALLY really been through, but no matter how tired or over it I may seem, I still think you're hella cool of a guy.” You warmed up to his hug, patting his back.

“Whenever you wanna chat about.. literally anything in the world, you know who to come to, silly.. Seriously, don't ever sweat it.” You smiled and yawned, going back to washing his upper body off for a second, more gentler time. 

You were surprised he didn't question the hot water in hot weather or how quickly it managed to cool you guys off. It was definitely making you more sleepy though.

“T-thanks, plant woman..” He wiped away a tear, sighing with a contentful “aah” as you tended to him. He leaned back, taking in the feeling of your care.

“Ya know, you're reeaaal good at this.. are ya’, perhaps, experienced ‘n bathing other people?” 

“Wh- This is.. how baths are meant to be taken, no?”

“T-together??!? Mate, I’d kill to have this luxury of bein’ cleaned by ya’ like this all the time!!”

“Whuh- No! I m-meant.. the soap and water, you fucking peanut.”

“Ooh.. W-well!” he pointed a finger up, “I don't care ‘bout standin’ under some lousy water for a’ hour! But.. ya’ make me want to if it means you'll be the one cleanin’ me!”

“You're an adult, Jamie.”

“Don't forget me’ prosthetics-”

“They're literally waterproof sealed..”

“How would ya’ even know that!?”

“You told me this in our past rant sessions, twice I might add.. Something about avoiding radiactiv-”

“Screw you, mate! ( ` ﾛ ´ )”

“..You probably would though. (>ᴗ•)”

☆ if anyone actually makes it this far, tysm for reading!! feedback is 100% welcomed and appreciated <33

☆ i promise ill get the smut out for this eventually.. ill also make a pinned request post soon!! with graduation coming up, im a bit busy :((.. BUT ITLL ALL COME!

☆ ^^ update, here it is!!

☆ enjoy ur day/night yall! eat, stay hydrated, and keep loving junkrat fr ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Deirdre Bardolf

Published: Dec 14, 2024

Civilian death counts in the Israel-Hamas war have been inflated and distorted to portray Israel as deliberately targeting innocent civilians, a new study found.

The report from the UK-based Henry Jackson Society found that news outlets failed to distinguish between civilian and combatant casualties and relied on manipulated statistics from the Hamas-run Health Ministry when reporting on the war.

Gaza officials claim more than 44,700 people have been killed following the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks on Israel, but does not acknowledge that upwards of 17,000 were Hamas terrorists — a fact the media often omits, the study found, citing Israeli and US military and intelligence reports for its data.

The “Questionable Counting” study, published on Saturday, charged that the ministry overstated casualty data by including natural deaths and over-reporting the numbers of women and children killed.

Men were included on lists of women killed in the conflict, while adults were included on counts of child deaths, researchers found.

“This misclassification contributes to the narrative that civilian populations, particularly women and children, bear the brunt of the conflict, potentially influencing sentiment and media coverage,” said Andrew Fox, the study’s author.

Around 5,000 natural deaths appear to have been added to the list of casualties, including cancer patients who later appeared on lists of those still receiving treatment, researchers said.

The errors have “led to a narrative where the Israel Defense Forces are portrayed as disproportionately targeting civilians,” the report states.

The investigation looked at all articles with Gaza fatality statistics published from February through May 2024 across eight major outlets: CNN, BBC News, The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Guardian, Associated Press, Reuters and the Australian ABC.

==

yOU'rE kIDDiNG!! hOW cOuLD tHiS hAVe hAppENeD?!?

The only thing shocking is how low the combatant to civilian rate is. And that's entirely due to the skill of the IDF.