#gulf cost

[gulfshoresgetaways]

Gulf Coast Beachfront Vacation Rentals we’ll explore the allure of Gulf Coast beachfront vacation rentals, the top destinations for a beachfront getaway, and the various options available to make your Gulf Coast vacation a truly memorable one.

[topnotchquark]

They are considering selling Dorna Sports?!?! At a valuation of £2Bn only?????

[lionheartlr]

Discover Bahrain: Your Ultimate Travel Guide

Welcome to Bahrain, a gem in the Arabian Gulf offering a rich tapestry of history, culture, and modern attractions. This guide will provide you with everything you need to know to plan an unforgettable trip to Bahrain. A Brief History of Bahrain Bahrain, an archipelago of 33 islands, has a storied history that dates back thousands of years. It was once the center of the Dilmun civilization, one…

[gulfcoastinspired]

A Comparison of Cajun and Creole Cooking

Creative Cuisine: Culinary Creations from Gulf Coast Kitchens Welcome to the flavorful world of Gulf Coast cuisine! Nestled along the southern shores of the United States, from Louisiana to Alabama, lies a culinary landscape rich in history, culture, and, most importantly, delicious food. At the heart of this gastronomic journey are two prominent styles of cooking: Cajun and Creole. These…

[blueboyluca]

Among the tens of thousands of people who risked their lives to stay home, fear of abandoning their animals was a primary reason for that decision. But even after the levees broke and thousands of men, women, and children were stranded on their rooftops, sometimes for days, rescuers did not allow the displaced to bring their pets into emergency facilities. Some residents had to be forced at gunpoint to leave their companions behind.

...

"There is a class issue involved here," Karen Dawn, an animal advocate, wrote in The Washington Post. "While Marriott hotels welcomed the pets of Katrina evacuees as ‘part of the family,’ people who had to rely on the Red Cross for shelter were forced to abandon that part of the family or attempt to ride out the storm. It cannot be denied that many poor people are dead as a result of 'no pets' policies."

...

"There’s no question that the pit bulls were separated out and treated differently [during the rescue effort]," a woman named Molly Gibb, who traveled to the Gulf to help lost pets after the hurricane, told me. "The media has done a very good job of 'de-dogging' the pit bull." Gibb would later foster a shy red-and-white pit bull that had been found tied to her dead owner, who had drowned. When the dog was picked up, she was wearing a fancy leather dress collar with metal studs on it, something Gibb recognized must have cost a good amount of money. "That man gave his life to save his dog," Gibb said, her voice trembling, "and other rescuers were complaining about what kind of collar she had on." (Later, the dog would be adopted by a pastor who took her to church with him on Sundays. He named her Faith.)

— Bronwen Dickey, Pit Bull (2016)

[iww-gnv]

Article date: September 30, 2024

NEW YORK -- The union representing U.S. dockworkers has signaled that 45,000 members will walk off the job at midnight, kicking off a massive strike likely to shut down ports across the East and Gulf coasts. The coming work stoppage threatens to significantly snarl the nation's supply chain, potentially leading to higher prices and delays for households and businesses if it drags on for weeks. That's because the strike by members of the International Longshoremen's Association could cause 36 ports — which handle roughly half of the goods shipped into and out of the U.S. — to shutter operations. ILA confirmed over the weekend that its members would hit the picket lines at 12:01 a.m. Tuesday. In a Monday update, the union continued to blame the United States Maritime Alliance, which represents the ports, for continuing to “to block the path” towards an agreement before the contract deadline. “The Ocean Carriers represented by USMX want to enjoy rich billion-dollar profits that they are making in 2024, while they offer ILA Longshore Workers an unacceptable wage package that we reject," ILA said in a prepared statement. “ILA longshore workers deserve to be compensated for the important work they do keeping American commerce moving and growing." ILA also accused shippers of “gouging their customers" with sizeable price increases for containers over recent weeks. The union said that this will result in increased costs for American consumers.

Read the rest here.

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #36

September 27-October 4 2024

President Biden and Vice-President Harris have lead the federal response to Hurricane Helene. President Biden's leadership earned praise from the Republican Governors of South Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, and Georgia, as well as the Democratic Governor of North Carolina and local leaders. Thousands of federal workers are on the ground in effected communities having given out to date over 8 million meals, over 7 million letters of water. Both President Biden and Vice-President Harris have been on the ground in resent days meeting with effected families. During her trip to Georgia Vice-President Harris announced that the federal government will reimburse state and local government 100% of the costs from Hurricane Helene.

A strike by the International Longshoremen’s Association that briefly shut down ports on the East Cost and Gulf ended in a tentative deal. Both sides thanked Acting Secretary of Labor Julie Su and Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg for helping push the deal through. President Biden and Vice-President Harris had expressed solidarity with the works when the strike was announced and President Biden directed Secretary Buttigieg to take the lead in pressuring management to make a deal with the Longshoremen. The ILA got a 62% raise as part of the agreement.

Vice President Harris announced new actions to help those struggling with medical debt. This actions include new standards from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau on debt collection. the CFPB plans on requiring debt collectors to confirm debts are valid and accurate before engaging in collection actions. As well as cracking down on debt collectors that collect on debt that is not owed by patients. Other actions included an announcement by the DoD that it was reducing pricing for civilians who get medical treatment at DoD hospitals and a track down on tax-exempt hospitals who are required by law to offer financial assistance but often do not. These steps come after Vice President Harris in June announced plans to remove medical debt from credit scores. Following the Vice President's call to action North Carolina moved forward a plan to eliminate medical debt for 2 million people in the state. President Biden's American Rescue Plan funds have been used by state and local Democrats to eliminate $7 billion dollars in medical debt.

The Department of Transportation announced $62 Billion in infrastructure funding for 2025. Thanks to the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law passed by President Biden this will be $18 billion dollars more than was spent in 2021. The Biden-Harris Admin has helped support over 60,000 infrastructure projects across all 50 states, rebuilding roads and bridges, breaking ground on America's first high speed rail, updating ports and airports, and breaking high speed internet to rural communities.

The Department of Transportation announced $1 Billion dollars of investment in America's passenger rail future. This comes on top of $8.2 billion in investments announced in December 2023. The funds will help expand and modernize intercity passenger rail nationwide.

The Departments of Energy and Agriculture announced a $2.8 billion joint project to bring 100% carbon pollution-free energy to the rural midwest. The DoE is investing $1.5 billion into helping bring the Palisades Nuclear Plant in Michigan back on-line. Shut down in 2022 plans to refit and reopen it to allow the plant to keep generating clean energy till 2051. Once back online the Palisades Nuclear Plant will help stop an anticipated 4.47 million metric tons of greenhouse gas emissions a year, or 111 million metric tons of greenhouse gas emissions over its lifetime. The USDA is investing $1.3 billion in two rural electric cooperatives, Wolverine Power Cooperative and Hoosier Energy, which cover rural communities in Michigan, Illinois, and Indiana. This investment will help Wolverine and Hoosier connect to the Palisades Plant, reduce prices for customers, and reduce climate pollution, putting Wolverine Power on the path to be 100 percent carbon-free energy before 2030.

The Treasury and the IRS announced that 30 million Americans, across 24 states will qualify for free direct filing of their taxes in 2025. The IRS says that the average American spends $270 dollars and 13 hours filing their taxes. Thanks to the Inflation Reduction Act, passed by President Biden with Vice President Harris' tie breaking vote, Americans will be able to file their taxes quickly and for free directly with the IRS. Tax payers in Alaska, Arizona, California, Connecticut, Florida, Idaho, Kansas, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wisconsin, and Wyoming will in 2025 be able to use direct file.

The USDA announced $7.7 billion in funding for Climate-Smart Practices on Agricultural Lands. This represents the single biggest investment in these programs in USDA history. Since implementation began in 2023 this conservation assistance has helped over 28,500 farmers and ranchers apply conservation to 361 million acres of land.

The Department of Energy announced $1.5 billion in investments in transmission infrastructure to help ensure our grid is reliable and resilient. This will help support nearly 1,000 miles of new transmission lines across Louisiana, Maine, Mississippi, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. These lines will bring 7,100 MW of new capacity and create 9,000 good paying union jobs. Studies find to keep up with growth and meet our climate goals of carbon free energy the US will need to triple the 2020 transmission capacity by 2050. This is an important step to meeting that goal.

[irfanfarooqi]

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[banyangulf-if]

"Feed on life as it feeds on you."

Answering a house sitting advertisement for a wealthy family friend, you make the journey to Southern Florida to fulfill a contract of seven weeks in exchange for enough money to float you comfortably through your final year of university. With keys to a mansion just a few hours from the beach and the promise of solitude under the Florida sun, you’re set for the summer of a lifetime – until you show up to the house and find out your employer is dead. 

Unbeknownst to you, something hidden in the mansion calls for your claim – something many are willing to kill to possess, regardless of if you are caught in the crossfire. Attempt to leave and live ignorantly, blissfully under a veil of paradise, or capture what riches live hidden in secret. 

Banyan Gulf by V. Lovisa

Customize yourself, the Main Character. Choose your name, appearance, gender, pronouns, and a variety of other factors throughout the story. 

Interact with and influence your relationship with a cast of five main romanceable characters and other side characters. 

Form alliances, or work on your own to uncover the secrets that await you. 

Decorate the room you stay in at your employer’s mansion. Choose wall color, bedding, decor, and special personalized elements to help you feel at home during your stay. 

Choose your attire for formal events and other select scenes. 

Determine your motivations – does money, fame, love, or something deeper drive you to find what lies hidden in the mansion? 

Luisa Morales (she/her) – Ambitious as she is brutally honest and determined, Luisa is an entrepreneur at heart. She aims to someday open her own tattoo shop, she’s been practicing tattooing since she turned 18. Her best friend Drew has become her practice canvas, since she’s run out of room for more work on her left arm and can’t tattoo left-handed. Luisa intends to make it big on her dreams, no matter the cost, and desires to create a sturdy and steady life for herself doing what she loves. She is 24 years old and 5’2. Luisa is Mexican, with brown eyes and long wavy hair that she’s dyed dark cherry red.

Drew Robins (he/him) – When he’s not working at his family’s restaurant or deliberately annoying his best friend Luisa, Drew is a recreational hobby addict. From drawing to sports to drink mixing to mountain climbing, Drew has tried just about everything. He aspires to create a life where money isn’t a concern and he can pursue every one of his passions freely. Drew is 24 years old and 6’1. He is white, with messy blond hair and pale blue eyes.

Lorelei Wildes (she/her) – Once the most popular person in Banyan Gulf due to the extent of her family’s riches but now socially disgraced due to a family scandal, Lorelei is burnt out of the city. Her one aspiration now is to escape, buy herself a house so grand it’s a step short of a vacation resort close to the beach, and live in the most luxurious way possible. Lorelei is drawn to everything beautiful, everything restful, everything perfect. She is 23 years old and 5’8. Lorelei is white, with green eyes and light brown hair that almost reaches her waist.

Oscar Carter (he/him) – An aspiring screenwriter and film director, Oscar has his sights set on becoming the most renowned filmmaker in the world. It’s a sizable ambition, one many have told him is impossible, but through it all Oscar has remained a dreamer, an artist, and is making progress on his aspirations through directing music videos and short films. Oscar is 22 years old and 5’11. He is black, with dark eyes and black locs that reach just below his collarbones.

Ronan/Ruby Hall (he/him OR she/her)– With their eccentric sense of humor and work as a chef and part-time graphic designer, Hall is known for their individuality and drive to live in their own way. In the back of their mind they hold the goal of being a full-time artist someday when they have the time and focus to give to creating. For now, they’re content to live in their own chaos. Hall is 25 years old and 5’9. They are mixed Thai and white, with light brown eyes and black hair (an overgrown mid fade for Ronan, and hair that reaches just below her collarbones for Ruby). 

POLY ROUTES:

Lorelei & Oscar – The love they once shared has faded, but is not yet lost. Only you might ignite what lies dormant between them, if you so wish. 

Luisa & Ruby/Ronan Hall – Their relationship could never feel complete without the warmth you bring to unite them.

Banyan Gulf is an interactive fiction game that is intended for mature audiences. The game includes many potentially upsetting themes, such as foul language, smoking, drinking and recreational drugs, general violence, weapons (knives, guns, etc), death, murder, suicide and suicidal ideation, cannibalism, gore, and optional romantic and/or sexual content. Please be mindful of these warnings when considering if Banyan Gulf is right for you. 

DEMO TBA

[joy-haver]

Last night, all the dockworkers of the East and Gulf Coasts stopped working, and declared that they won’t go back until they are promised a fair wage and stable employment.

I admire the courage, community building, and dedication that strikes like these require, and have the utmost respect for the organizers. If they win their demands, it will help raise the standards for workers across the board, make shipping safer, ensure easier transfer of products, and higher safety standards for workers and consumers alike.

As these companies fleece us of our wages and rob us in the stores, as poor and working class people do all the work while a few rich folks take all the gains, it is lovely to see some folks fighting back, and doing it at scale.

News outlets and fear mongers will say that this strike will raise prices. They say it will make your medication scarce, and formula hard to find. There is some truth to that. But it is also a narrative designed to make you spineless, selfish, and traitorous. The people telling you this do not care if you live or die. They don’t care about your medication. They only care that they don’t have to raise the pay of their employees. They only care that this might cost them money, keep them from buying a private island or a yacht.

Remember, it is not the dockworkers who are forcing this scarcity. The dockworkers know that if things go on as they are, scarcity will only grow. Wages will fall, no one will be able to afford the things that you are so scared of losing. Standards in shipping will fall, causing delays, improper storage of goods, and lost cargo. What they are doing is, in part, to prevent that.

Domestic supply of most necessities is high enough to withstand many months of strikes. Even if it runs out in stores, someone in the community probably has what you need. In times like these, using mutual aid efforts to meet our own needs and needs in our communities is a way we can stand in solidarity. Making baby food, sharing formula, distributing breast milk, converting school labs to medicine production, sharing stockpiles, these could save lives and ease the burden of the strike, letting the workers stand strong and without contention from our communities.

If you want this strike to end soon, the best thing you can do is show support to the dockworkers, lower demand on these goods, and put pressure on the bosses to accept their demands.

We can live in a better world. We just have to remember to be on each others team. The team of human liberation - not the team of corporate profit.

[pin-k-ink]

oasis // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ unprotected sex, making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, biting, daddy kink, so much fluff ugh

wc ⇢ 3k

The sight that awaited Hoshina when he entered the bedroom made his heart lurch straight into his throat. There you were - his entire world contained in one breathtaking picture.

You laid curled on your side amidst the rumpled sheets, features soft and radiant with the peacefulness of new motherhood. Cradled protectively in the basin of your body was the tiny, squirming bundle that was Setsuko, his newborn daughter. His legacy and heir, barely a few weeks old.

As Hoshina watched from the doorway, frozen in quiet reverence, you brought one finger up to gently trace the fine wisps of violet hair dusting Setsuko's scalp. The tender gesture made his chest constrict almost painfully, throat thickening beneath a swell of emotions he could scarcely put words to.

Here were the two most precious beings in his life, relaxed and at peace despite the shadowed mantle he wore daily to keep you both sheltered. His spirit had always focused on defending faceless citizens, upholding justice through strength. But now, in the wake of Setsuko's birth, that driving purpose had become laserbeamed onto safeguarding your beatific smiles no matter the cost.

You seemed to sense his presence at that point, eyes fluttering up to find Hoshina with a look of such pure, untarnished adoration that it stole what little remained of his breath. A soft, welcoming curve bloomed across your lips as you shifted your body weight carefully to avoid jostling Setsuko's slumbering form.

"Hi, honey," you murmured in a hushed tone, gesturing him over with a tilt of your head. "Setsuko was just drifting off again after her evening feeding."

Hoshina didn't require any further prompting. In two strides he crossed the room to sink down on the mattress edge, unable to tear his eyes away from the downy perfection of his daughter's features. She made the most adorable little mewling sounds on each exhale, lips pursing and tiny fists curling against the swell of your breast almost instinctively.

"God, she's beautiful..." he rasped out in a voice rendered gravelly by the sheer immensity of emotions swirling inside. "Just like her mother, radiatin' more beauty and light than this world deserves."

You blushed prettily at the open avowal, the tips of your ears pinking in that way Hoshina always found impossibly endearing. Cautious of disturbing Setsuko, he leaned over to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before trailing his lips down the delicate slope of your nose. When he reached your mouth, however, the softness fractured into a brand of heat and naked yearning that made you suck in a trembling breath through your nostrils.

Hoshina’s palm came up to cradle the line of your jaw, calloused thumb skating over the lush swell of your lower lip in an achingly gentle caress. His tongue swept past the seam with unhurried relish, savoring your unique bouquet like a man delirious with thirst rediscovering an oasis after years of bleached bone aridity.

You melted against his questing lips with a hushed keen, senses flooding with the overwhelming secondhand reminder of how much you had ached for this particular brand of attention during your recovery period. Hoshina refused to be separated from you both during those early weeks, but there was a vast gulf between sleeping beside your exhausted forms each night and...this.

Finally, the smoldering brand flickered and caught into new, blazing life as Hoshina delved deeper, robbing your breath straight from your lungs. You could feel the first telltale sparks of desire rapidly coalescing into raging wildfire deep in your untouched core, crying out for the balm only he could provide after so many barren weeks apart...

Before either of your urgencies could consume what fragile restraint remained, Setsuko let out an aggrieved whimper between your tangled bodies. You broke apart with a trembling gasp, pupils wide and molten in the dimness as Hoshina hovered over you both. Even thoroughly addled by reawakened hunger, his first instinct compelled him to gently gather up the tiny, squirming bundle and rise fluidly to his feet.

"I'll take our little girl down the hall so Mama can get some proper rest," he murmured in a tone made of pure gravel and smoke. You could only nod breathlessly, limbs liquefying as Hoshina treated you to one final, scorching onceover.

"Don't worry, sweetheart..." the fingers of his free hand ghosted along your jawline in a smoldering brand of possession. "Soon as our girl is down for the night, I'll be back for ya. We've got some...catchin' up to do."

And just like that, he was gone - slipping through the door with Setsuko nestled securely in the protective cage of his arms. You slumped back against the tangled sheets in a daze, thighs clenching convulsively at the unspoken promise of ravishment hovering in the air.

Hoshina returned from settling Setsuko in her crib with an unmistakable hunger burning in his eyes. The second the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, he stalked towards the bed like a prowling predator homing in on its prey.

"She's down for the night," he rasped in a low gravelly timbre that made heat unfurl through your core. "Which means yer all mine again, pretty girl."

You shivered at the undisguised yearning blazing in his stare, suddenly hyperaware of how the sheets had tangled around your legs leaving most of your body exposed. Hoshina drank in every inch hungrily - the tousled spill of your hair across the pillows, the dusky peaks of your breasts cresting above the cotton barrier, the taut feminine curves he'd been denied for too long.

A trembling whimper slipped free as he reached the edge of the mattress and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his fatigues. "Shiro..." you breathed out in a needy rasp. "I've missed you so much..."

Rather than responding with words, he simply held your heated stare as the coarse material pooled around his ankles. You felt your mouth go dry at the sight of his powerful, muscular frame on full display, those sinewy thighs and chiseled abs just begging to be traced with greedy palms and hungry lips. Most of all, your gaze was utterly transfixed by his thick, iron-rigid cock jutting from the thatch of dark curls at the apex of those toned legs.

A fresh gush of slick arousal flooded your aching sex at the reminder of what pleasures that delicious looking cock could provide after too many barren weeks. Unconsciously, your thighs parted in a wanton offering as Hoshina crawled over you with leonine grace, careful not to brace his full weight into the cradle of your hips.

"Let me look at ya, baby..." he rumbled in a tone thick with naked reverence. Gentle but insistent, he peeled the filmy top away until your heavy, swollen breasts spilled free. Hoshiro looked utterly ravenous beholding them, drinking in every intimate detail and subtle change with smoldering intensity.

You instinctively arched into his exploratory caresses as those massive, callused palms mapped every new ridge and sloping curve with aching tenderness. Hoshina’s touch ignited sparks of electricity under your hyper-sensitized skin, stoking you into a squirming, mewling mess within moments.

"God, yer so fuckin' gorgeous..." he growled with clear possession as his mouth blazed a path along your tingling sternum. "These tits, this sumptuous waist and hips..."

One large hand splayed across the slight swell of your lower abdomen reverently, fingers flexing against the firm plane in silent appreciation. "It's like you were sculpted solely for takin' and keepin' my seed buried deep inside..."

You whimpered brokenly at the raw, unfiltered lust lacing his rasping timbre. Your entire body seemed to thrum and ache in symphony with the molten promise held in those few rumbling words alone.

"Show me where ya need me most, baby girl..." Hoshina demanded, voice dropping into a gravelly octave that seemed to reverberate straight through your nerve endings. "Guide Daddy's hand to that needy little cunt so I can get my mouth on ya..."

Trembling, you hooked one knee over his bulging shoulder and laced your fingers through his soft purple locks. With his molten, indigo gaze locked hungrily on yours, you used your grip to guide Hoshina’s awaiting lips down to the drenched, throbbing apex of your sex.

He groaned explosively at the first hint of your heady, musky essence teasing his nostrils. You cried out in turn as his hot tongue lashed a broad stripe against your swollen folds without preamble. Hoshina latched onto your aching clit with bruising suction, growling like a starving beast as he lapped up every honeyed drop greedily.

"That's it...let Daddy drink from that sweet fountain, gorgeous," he panted hoarsely against your sensitive flesh, forcing every syllable to vibrate straight into your tingling core. "Been too fuckin' long since I got to savor my favorite treat..."

His words dissolved into low, filthy encouragements muffled by the messy seal of his gluttonous mouth working you with increasing ardor. You bucked and writhed uncontrollably, fingers fisting in his hair as your climax crested in rapturous waves of release. Hoshina clutched your jerking hips like a vise, refusing to allow even an inch of space as he guided you through the mind-numbing pulses with practiced skill.

Only once you went boneless with satiated aftershocks did he drag himself up to hover over your limp, dazed form. Face slick and shining with your essence, he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, making you taste the tangy sweetness on his lips and tongue.

"Stay right there, baby girl..." Hoshiro rumbled against your swollen mouth as he shrugged out of his shirt impatiently. "This was just the opening act for all the ways I plan on devourin' every inch tonight..."

By the time you recovered enough awareness to watch the rest of the show, Hoshina had stripped completely bare. Your breath caught at the breathtaking sight, eyes drinking in every glorious ridge and muscle flexing across his sculpted body. He was a veritable demigod come down from on high to worship and ravish your humble form...and you had no intention of ever taking such blessings for granted.

When you reached out to wrap your fingers around the steel-hard girth of his cock, Hoshina shuddered as if electrified by the touch. The sound was nearly drowned out by the low, guttural moan he released into your mouth as you began to stroke him languidly.

"You'd better stop that, gorgeous..." he warned in a voice thickened with lust, pupils blown to utter blackness. "As much as I'd love to finish all over that sexy tummy, it's been too damn long since I buried myself in your sweet pussy."

The vulgar promise made you whimper and squirm, hips arching instinctively as Hoshina settled his solid weight into the cradle of your thighs. One massive hand braced into the mattress at the side of your head, while the other curled beneath your thigh to hook around the back of your knee.

Your hands came up to clutch his bulging biceps, nails digging into the flexing muscles as the blunt tip of his cock pressed insistently at your entrance. Your walls rippled in anticipation, eager to be filled to the brim with his pulsating, velvety length once more.

"Look at me, baby girl," Hoshina commanded in a gravel-thick tone as he began to press inside inch by glorious inch. "Need to see those beautiful eyes as I claim what's mine..."

You obeyed without question, the world narrowing to a pinpoint as your gaze locked. Nothing else existed but him, his cock and the way he filled and stretched and soothed the empty ache inside. You could feel your entire body fluttering and clenching around him, already dangerously close to the razor-sharp precipice.

"Fuck...that's my girl..." Hoshina gasped out shakily, eyes blazing with pure worship as he sank deeper, until the base of his cock was flush with your quivering folds. He remained motionless for several agonizing seconds, his body shuddering with the strain of holding back the primal urge to rut into you hard and fast.

But he had no intention of rushing, of giving into the selfish impulse to chase his own pleasure. Tonight, his focus was entirely on you. On lavishing his beautiful, brilliant, resilient girl with the pleasure she deserved after months of self-sacrifice and devoted care.

So rather than immediately beginning to piston his hips, Hoshina shifted his weight onto one arm and brought his free hand down to trace the seam of your mouth with his thumb. You opened up eagerly, sucking the thick digit in past the knuckle until his eyes narrowed with unmistakable heat.

"That's my good girl..." he crooned in a voice made of pure gravel and smoke. "Just like that, baby..."

You moaned softly around his finger, tongue laving the callused pad with languorous strokes. Your inner walls fluttered and clenched in response to the sheer eroticism, and the answering growl resonating in his chest only added to the heady rush.

"Fuuuuck...ya have no idea what ya do to me, gorgeous," Hoshina panted raggedly, hips finally starting to rock at an achingly slow pace. "You’re Daddy's everything, baby...my whole goddamn universe. And now I'm gonna worship and fuck every single inch of you..."

The last thread of his control snapped like an overtaxed elastic band. Your resulting cry was muffled by the thumb still hooked between your teeth, the sound morphing into a throaty whine as his hips slammed forward relentlessly.

"I've got ya, baby...just hold onto me," he gritted out between harsh, labored pants. His entire body flexed and rippled with the strain, sweat-slick muscles bunching and contracting with each forceful thrust. "Let Daddy take care of his precious girl..."

All you could do was cling to his massive frame, legs wrapped tightly around his pistoning hips as he pounded into your dripping cunt mercilessly. Each punishing stroke hit the perfect angle to make your vision blur and stars erupt, pleasure coiling and spiraling tighter with every deep, measured pump.

Hoshina could feel his orgasm coiling like a molten fist in the pit of his gut, every muscle drawn taut with the effort of staving off the inevitable release. But the way your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, and the helpless mewls spilling from your slackened mouth...it was all too much.

"Baby, I can't...fuck, I'm gonna-" Hoshina growled out hoarsely, burying his face in the sweat-damp hollow of your neck.His stomach dipped with the effort of staving off his own imminent climax, hips faltering as he struggled to regain some semblance of control.

"Don't stop...please, Shiro...oh God, I'm so close," you begged shamelessly, fingers clawing desperately at his shoulders and biceps. "I need it...need you...so much, Daddy, please-"

Those final broken, pleading words shattered the tenuous grasp of his restraint. A guttural, animalistic snarl ripped from his throat, and suddenly the entire bedframe was shuddering beneath the force of his frenzied rhythm.

You arched your back like a bow, eyes rolling back as he drove into your spasming channel at a bruising pace. Hoshina's name fell from your lips in an endless, broken litany, until the sound of his voice broke through the haze of white-hot pleasure.

"Give it to me, baby...I need ya to come all over Daddy's cock. Let me feel ya..." he gritted out between harsh, labored panting, hips slamming and grinding erratically. "Please, I can't- Fuck, I'm gonna- Ahh, baby, I'm comin'!"

He managed to stave off his own impending release for one last, torturous second, just long enough to feel you explode around him. Your entire body convulsed, muscles tensing and releasing in a series of rhythmic, powerful spasms. Hoshina groaned into the curve of your shoulder, his teeth sinking deep into the tender flesh as his hips jerked and ground into you desperately.

His release flooded your depths in a thick, scalding rush, each twitching pump of his cock spilling more seed until it dripped and oozed around the seal of his girth. You were utterly boneless beneath him, trembling and mewling helplessly as he rutted and ground his way through the last tremors of climax.

By the time the blinding rush receded, the pair of you were drenched and panting. You were both completely drained, bodies trembling and flushed in the aftermath of that incredible, mind-blowing connection. Hoshina rolled to his side, gathering you in his arms protectively as he struggled to regain a semblance of equilibrium.

You were a perfect, lax bundle of pliant warmth nestled against his chest, and Hoshina felt his heart swell at the sight. After a few moments, he finally regained enough of his senses to gently nudge your chin up so he could gaze directly into your beautiful, sated eyes.

"Hey," he murmured in a low rasp, lips curling into an affectionate smile.

"Hey yourself," you breathed back with a matching smile. Your entire body was still tingling with the lingering aftershocks, but nothing was quite as potent as the adoration radiating from the man holding you.

"God, I missed ya..." Hoshina sighed, expression melting into one of pure contentment. He brought a hand up to gently trace the elegant contours of your face, committing every minute detail to memory all over again.

"Me too," you sighed dreamily, arching into his palm like a kitten begging for affection. "That was amazing...but we're going to have to invest in a new bedframe tomorrow."

"Worth it," he growled possessively, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your face up. His kiss was sweet and unhurried, lips slanting with languid relish as he explored the contours of your mouth.

When the pair of you finally surfaced for air, your cheeks were flushed and your pupils blown wide. "I'm sure Setsuko will be asleep for a while," Hoshina said with clear reluctance. "How about a nice hot shower to relax and then we'll get some much-needed sleep?"

"You always have the best ideas," you replied with a contented sigh. "But if we shower together, there's a strong chance we won't get any sleep at all."

"I'm a big fan of the occasional sleepless night," Hoshina growled playfully, hands sliding down to cup the round curves of your ass. "Besides, the best part about a shower is gettin' ya all cleaned up before making a filthy mess of ya again."

[northgazaupdates]

The Abu Saqer family is trying to evacuate Gaza for Egypt. They hope to find safety and to rebuild their lives and pursue their dreams. They write,

everyone in our family has a dream to fulfill, and has something he/she is passionate about:

Mohsen Abu Saqer, a 50-year-old father who suffers from a number of chronic diseases, wants to see his family members achieving their dreams peacefully, also, he wants to live in peace, as he has seen it all, the two intifadas, the Gulf wars, Gaza wars, etc...

Safinaz Al-Baghdadi, a 50-year-old mother, has the same dreams as our father, she is a UN employee, throughout 25 years, she has taught many students, she left her impact on a lot of them, as most of them are still in contact with her.

Yahia Abu Saqer, the older son, and a teaching assistant at the Islamic University of Gaza, and a student who is trying to obtain a master's degree in Data Science, unfortunately, the Islamic University of Gaza has been bombed and severely damaged, and his dream to become a data scientist has faded away.

Hala Abu Saqer, a 22-year-old Biotech specialist, her dream was to complete her studies abroad, but the ongoing war has made this impossible for her.

Ibrahim Abu Saqer, a 21-year-old college student, dreams of becoming a dentist, after 4 years of hard work, and high expenses, the war has made all of that go in vain, he is so depressed because of his lost effort.

Haia Abu Saqer, an 18-year-old high school graduate, won a scholarship in Turkey, as she dreams of becoming a psychiatrist, to cure the damaged souls of Gazans because of all of those wars and the 17 years of blockade, but with this war starting out of nowhere, she can't go out to Turkey.

Deema Abu Saqer, a 17-year-old high school student, her dreams are simple and innocent, as she wants to get a high average in her final year of high school, so she can celebrate her success with her family and relatives.

If you can spare any funds, please consider sharing them with this family. The cost for evacuating 7 people to Egypt is very high, but they are making good progress. They are hoping to reach $35,000 by Eid, which will begin this year on Wednesday April 11th. Let’s help them reach their goal!

Thank you all❤️

[collapsedsquid]

The Darién Gap was thought for centuries to be all but impassable. Explorers and would-be colonizers who entered tended to die of hunger or thirst, be attacked by animals, drown in fast-rising rivers, or simply get lost and never emerge. Those dangers remain, but in recent years the jungle has become a superhighway for people hoping to reach the United States. According to the United Nations, more than 800,000 may cross the Darién Gap this year—a more than 50 percent increase over last year’s previously unimaginable number. Children under 5 are the fastest-growing group. The U.S. has spent years trying to discourage this migration, pressuring its Latin American neighbors to close off established routes and deny visas to foreigners trying to fly into countries close to the U.S. border. Instead of stopping migrants from coming, this approach has simply rerouted them through the jungle, and shifted the management of their passage onto criminal organizations, which have eagerly taken advantage. The Gulf Clan, which now calls itself Ejército Gaitanista de Colombia, effectively controls this part of northern Colombia. It has long moved drugs and weapons through the Darién Gap; now it moves people too. Everyone who works in the Darién Gap must be approved by the cartel and hand over a portion of their earnings. They have built stairs into hillsides and outfitted cliffs with ladders and camps with Wi‑Fi. They advertise it all on TikTok and YouTube, and anyone can book a journey online. There are many paths through. The most grueling route is the cheapest—right now, about $300 a person to cross the jungle on foot. Taking a boat up the coast can cost more than $1,000.

[...] Guides and porters follow the migrants in the jungle with their iPhones rolling, asking, “Do you feel good?” and “Have we treated you well?” They film incessantly during the first day of walking, when people are still able to conjure a smile. (Even I ended up in one of their videos.) They post the videos on social media, selling trips across the jungle as if they were joyful nature walks. The profit motives of the cartel have become yet another factor fueling migration. [...] The porters we had paid to continue on with us told us to stay close together because bandits were thought to be intimidated by large groups. Later, we learned that was false—they were in fact targeting large groups, perhaps because it was more efficient than robbing a handful of people at a time. Our anxiety grew when we passed a couple of abandoned backpacks. We pushed through thicker and thicker brush until I realized there was no longer any sign of a path. One porter accused another of leading us astray. They started arguing, until a third hissed, “No yelling!” We turned around, but a bottleneck formed in front of a fallen tree trunk. One of the porters shouted for us to hurry: “Grab the kids and go!” [...] Most of the migrants I met in the processing line told me they’d been robbed by bandits at a checkpoint within a day’s walk of the community. The women said they’d been groped; some said they’d been digitally penetrated under the guise of a search for hidden cash. Panamanian border officers standing nearby showed no interest in investigating. Indigenous leaders say they have asked the government for help addressing crime against migrants, but the situation seems to be getting worse. In February, Doctors Without Borders published a report on sexual violence against migrants in the Darién Gap, showing a frequency more typical of war zones. Soon after, the government kicked the organization out of the area.

[koiiiji]

halloween special! fantasy AU

tw ; long post, hints of unhealthy behaviour

starring ; Sangho Choi, Yoo Wooin, Joker, Kwon Hyuk, Chris d'Char

author's note i feel like i went a little too far.... MDNI!!! AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS DNI, I WILL BLOCK YOU

Sangho Choi

dark elf

the aftermath of the battle lay heavy on the camp. bodies of the wounded were scattered across the muddy grounds, the air thick with the scent of blood and ash. Sangho strode through the chaos, his armor still smeared with grime and blood, his expression unreadable, calm as always. the Moriquendi (dark elves) commander moved like a force of nature, cold and unwavering — a stark contrast to the exhaustion that gripped his troops.

he had led them to victory, but at a cost. the dead outnumbered the living, both the humans and dwarves who fought alongside them counted their losses, and just as the Moriquendi mourned dead ones in silence. Sangho, ever composed, was the eye of the storm, his reputation as a warrior known throughout the realms. despite the losses, his people looked to him with deep respect. they always had.

he had earned that respect — not through birthright or privilege, but through sheer strength and leadership. the Moriquendi might have been forsaken by the gods, forgotten and separated for centuries, but Sangho had become their pillar of power, their anchor, the one brought them all together again. his connection to his people was ironclad, built not on divine grace, but on blood, grit, and unrelenting will.

Sangho had no need for magic, for poetry, for the lofty ideals of the highest elves. he had the blade. and that was enough.

but as the silver banners of the Calaquendi approached the camp, a bitterness stirred in his chest. he stood tall, his posture rigid as he watched them ride in — untouched by the dirt, by the blood. their horses were pristine, their armor shining like the stars, and their faces were serene, as if the horrors of war had never touched them.

they hadn’t fought in this battle. they had only come now, after the dust had settled, with their supplies, their medicines, their immaculate presence. it was an insult, in a way, a reminder that they saw themselves as above it all.

but it wasn’t the Calaquendi warriors that made his jaw tighten.

it was you.

you rode at the front of the procession on her snow-white horse, a figure of grace and elegance. the princess. your silver hair cascaded down your back, catching the last rays of the setting sun, and your soft eyes surveyed the camp with a quiet sadness. you was everything the Calaquendi were — untouched, unearthly, and so far removed from the blood and dirt that clung to Sangho and his people.

it had been years since he had last seen you, but the sight of you was enough to stir something deep within him. something he had long tried to bury...

he had been a young elf then, barely into his teenage years, when he had been granted the rare privilege to train under the Calaquendi’s finest warriors. it had been an honor, or so everyone had told him. a rare opportunity for a Moriquendi to learn from the higher elves, to study the art of combat, leadership, and strategy.

they had treated him like a curiosity — an outsider, lower. he had heard the whispers, felt the judgment. the older elves had made no effort to hide their disdain for the Moriquendi, for the path they had chosen long ago.

but you had been different. you had shown him kindness, even as a child. your curiosity about him had seemed genuine, your warmth in stark contrast to the cold indifference of her people.

you had even tried to teach him magic once, your face full of innocent excitement. "it’s simple, Sangho," you had said, hand glowing with a soft, golden light. but the magic had never come for him. his people had no connection to it, no divine light in their veins. the magic that flowed so easily for you would never be his. he had felt like a shadow in your presence, a reminder of the gulf between them.

and though you had never mocked him for it, it had planted a seed of resentment in him that had only grown with time.

Sangho tore his gaze away from you as your contingent dismounted. his expression remained cold, controlled. he had long mastered the art of concealing his thoughts, of keeping his emotions locked behind a calm exterior. but seeing you again — untouched by the war that had scarred him and his people — it stirred something dark inside him. a flicker of jealousy. of anger.

and yet, something else.

you approached the gathered commanders, your voice soft but clear as you addressed them. "we have come to help," you said, tone calm, diplomatic. "our healers will tend to your wounded. we have brought provisions, weapons, and aid for the battles ahead."

Sangho stood at a distance, watching you as you spoke. his armor was still stained with the blood of his enemies, a stark contrast to your pristine appearance.

and as he watched you, that familiar ache stirred in his chest, the same one he had felt all those years ago when you had smiled at him and tried to teach him what he could never possess. you was everything he resented, everything he envied.

and yet, he could never bring himself to hate you.

you caught his gaze, soft eyes meeting his across the camp. for a moment, the world seemed to still. your lips curved into a small, familiar smile, the kind you had given him all those years ago — full of warmth, of recognition.

"Commander," you greeted him, voice gentle echoed in his head. the sound of your voice, calling his title in his head, sent a chill down his spine.

he inclined his head slightly, his expression remaining cold, though his heart raced beneath the surface. "Princess," he replied, his voice low, edged with a bitterness.

Yoo Wooin

pirate

the cliffs were a place of solitude, where you often came to escape the noise of the coastal town. tonight, however, when the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, and dark blue heavy clouds foreshadowed the storm, the wind screamed through the rocks, carrying whispers of danger as you peered out at the sea. moon wasn't shown yet, but the crashing waves couldn't hide it from your gaze — the legendary ship.

it looked like something out of a nightmare. dark hull was barely visible in the distance, but it's tattered black sails were unmistakable. the ship that had haunted the town’s legends for centuries.

you had only meant to look. just a glimpse, out of curiosity. no one could have warned you how close it would come to shore tonight.

as you turned to head back up the cliffs, the sharp crack of twigs underfoot made you freeze. before you could even gasp, rough, filthy hands clamped over your mouth. the scent of sweat and saltwater hit your nose as you struggled, panic surging through veins.

“shhh, lass, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” a gruff voice snarled in your ear.

your eyes widened in terror as you was yanked backward, feet sliding helplessly on the slick, rocky ground. two men held you tightly, their laughter low and malicious. one of them, burly and reeking of rum, grabbed your wrists, twisting them behind your back painfully as the other kept his filthy hand pressed firmly over your mouth.

“look what we found wanderin’ near the cliffs,” the first man sneered. his breath was hot and foul against your cheek. “tet the captain’ll like this one. she’s a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

terror tightened in your chest as they dragged you down the narrow path, where was the boat beached.

your muffled cries lost to the storm.

your heart raced as the ship came into view again, when your kidnappers rowing back to the ship, and all the warnings from the townsfolk echoed in your mind. the ghost ship wasn't just a story. it was real — and you were being taken aboard.

the men hauled you up onto the deck, laughing and exchanging crude comments about you as they did. wood beneath your feet was old, splintered, and smelled of rot and seawater. panic surged in your chest as you was thrown down onto the deck, your wrists still bound with some dirty rag behind you, mouth dry with fear.

your breath came in short gasps, and when you looked up, your blood ran cold.

there, in the shadows, was him.

Wooin stood at the helm, leaning casually against the ship’s railing with an almost lazy posture, his black hair tousled by the storm, his shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. his eyes were sharp — too sharp — and his grin was… wrong. wicked. crazy. it was a smile that held danger, and something far darker. and before you could even struggle to your feet, his sliced through the air, dark and sharp.

“now, now, what have we here?”

“looks like you boys brought me a little gift,” he drawled, eyes locking on you with a gaze that sent shivers down your spine. “and here i thought tonight was going to be boring.”

pirates laughed as they shoved you closer to him. “caught her spyin' near the cliffs, Captain. figured you'd want first dibs”

Wooin crouched down in front of you, his grin widening as he looked you up and down. his gaze was dark and predatory, lingering a little too long on your trembling form. he leaned in close, the scent of seawater and smoke clinging to you as he cocked his head.

“you wanted to see the ship up close, sweetheart? well, too bad, we don't let go of such precious things like you back,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “though i gotta say, you’re braver than most. or maybe just stupider.”

his fingers trailed along your cheek, smudging the dirt the other pirates had left behind. his touch was cold and sent a wave of fear rippling through you. “you’ve got a pretty little mouth,” he mused darkly, thumb brushing against your lips. “i bet it can do real sweet job, don’t it?”

you jerked your head back, heart pounding wildly in your chest, but that only made him laugh.

“oh, feisty, i like that.” Wooin’s grin twisted into something even darker, and his eyes flickered with amusement. “you might last longer than i thought.”

he stood up, his hand curling around your arm as he pulled you to your feet in one quick motion, yanking you against him. “what's your name, little mouse?” Wooin asked, his voice soft, almost sweet. but the sweetness was poisoned, mocking. when you didn’t answer right away, his grin faltered, and his expression twisted with impatience.

before you could speak, Wooin's hand shot out, gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes were wild now, gleaming with something dangerous and unhinged.

“don’t be shy now,” he growled, his fingers digging into your skin. “you’re gonna tell me your name, or i’ll have my boys get it out of you another way. and trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want that.”

your heart raced, and you managed to stammer, “it’s [y/n].”

“good.” Wooin released you with a smirk, standing back up. he turned to his crew with a wicked grin. “what do you think, boys? think we can make use of her?”

the pirates around you roared with laughter, and Wooin stepped back, letting his eyes wander over your form again with a wild glint. “don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll make sure you’re well taken care of. you’ll just have to earn your keep.”

he threw a wink at you, but it wasn’t charming. it was crude, full of filthy implications. “we’ve got plenty of work for pretty things like you aboard the Sabbath.”

you struggled against the ropes around your wrists, heart pounding as you felt the weight of his words. there was no escaping the look in his eyes — dark and unrelenting. this wasn’t just a game to him. it was a hunt. and you was his prey.

but then, just as quickly as his touch had been possessive, he pulled away, mercilessly ripping off your outer dress, which you covered yourself with, slipping out of the house, leaving you only in a thin, white night dress. he slowly held the cloth to his nose, inhaling the scent of perfumes and oils, rolling his eyes with perverted pleasure. the second later he turned to his crew, spinning on his heel and threw the coat into a crowd of pirates. “still warm and smell like woman, boys” he barked to his men, his tone light but commanding.

the crew burst into vile, disgusting laughter, stretching and tearing the fabric, trying to snatch a piece for themselves, while the captain took the main delicacy.

Wooin grabbed your arm, roughly dragging you after him in captain's cabin, and shot you just one look, his grin sharper than ever. “I’ve got a few things to take care of, sweetheart. But don’t worry. I’ll find time soon to… get to know you better.”

Joker

hunter

the forest was thick, dark, and damp, its shadows pooling like ink beneath the heavy canopy. you’d been warned to stay away from the hunter’s paths, to keep to the glades where the light filtered through, safe among the trees and the chattering birds. but curiosity and confidence had tugged you deeper into the wild, to places no forest nymph dared venture. and now here you were — ensnared, tangled like prey in a coarse net that cut into your skin each time you struggled.

you’d heard the rumors, all the horrific things that were said of him. some called him a monster, some a demon, a creature more vile than ogres, with hands heavy enough to crush bone and a heart darker than the forest’s shadowed depths.

a man.

rumors said he hunted fae-folk for sport, skinned nymphs and fauns alive to sell their wings and antlers and sometimes even kept it as twisted trophies. so you lay frozen, terror blooming inside you as footsteps approached, slow and deliberate, until he was there, looking down at you with a gaze as indifferent as a hawk's, cold and calculating.

“caught yourself in a trap, didn’t you?” his voice was low, almost lazy, devoid of emotion but carrying a harsh edge that set your heart racing faster. he crouched, studying you with the cool, detached interest of a creature observing something wounded, something lesser.

you couldn’t hold back a soft whimper, the plea tumbling out in a trembling whisper. “please… please don’t eat me… or… or sell me, or… take my wings.” your voice shook, barely above a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. every ounce of courage had leaked from you, leaving only desperation.

his expression remained unchanged, his eyes traveling over you without a hint of sympathy or mercy. he clicked his tongue, almost in disdain. “sell you or eat you, huh?” he scoffed softly, as though the very idea bored him. “too small to do any of this to you...”

he leaned closer, his face shrouded by the hood he wore, but even then, you could make out the glint of something dangerous in his gaze, a still cruelty inherent to human, that made your skin prickle. he pulled a long, thin knife from his belt, its blade dull and wicked-looking. your heart pounded faster, your breath quick and shallow as he dragged the blade along the net, slicing through its binds with practiced precision.

but he didn’t stop with the net.

as he worked, he let out a slow, almost mocking sigh, his tone low and chillingly void of anything warm. “i never thought fae-folk would be this… naive. falling right into a trap. maybe all those rumors are true. that you’re not as clever as you all like to pretend.”

he cut through the last of the net, letting it fall loose around you, and before you could think to scramble free, he had you by the wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that felt like iron. you writhed, pulling against his hold, but his strength was unyielding, and his gaze never shifted, never softened.

“look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself, though there was a cruel twist to his voice. “tiny thing… so fragile.” the knife moved again, glinting faintly as he drew it closer, tracing it along the edge of your silken garb, dragging it just close enough to raise the fine hairs on your skin.

the first cut was slow, methodical, stripping you of the flimsy fabric with a disturbing calm, his face as devoid of emotion as it had been when he’d found you. his touch was cold as he worked, peeling away every last layer of your garb until your skin was bare beneath the dappled light filtering through the foliage of the trees.

your throat tightened, a frantic plea catching in your throat as he studied you, his gaze a chillingly dispassionate assessment of your form. “what are you so afraid of?” his question was flat, the hint of a smirk nowhere to be found, replaced instead by an unsettling, empty gaze. “i told you i wouldn’t eat you. or sell you.”

he tilted his head, as though considering something, his eyes roaming over you with a detached curiosity, nothing soft or familiar to be found in that stare. “i’ve seen plenty of your kind before,” he continued. “fragile little things. quick to beg, easy to break.” he tightened his grip on your wrists, as his other hand slips to your chest, cupping one and tweaking your nipple, watching as you flinched, his expression as cool and collected as before.

with a final, dispassionate glance, he dropped your wrists, letting you fall back against the forest floor. you felt the earth cold against your skin, and for a moment, you dared to believe he might leave, that his curiosity had passed.

but he didn’t move. he just stood there, studying you in silence, as if weighing his options, calculating something you couldn’t comprehend. finally, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper, chillingly calm.

“run.”

Chris d'Char

draugr (scandinavian zombie)

the moment you stepped into the cave, you felt something watching. air was thick with the scent of earth and decay, damp and oppressive, pressing down as you pushed further into the cavernous dark. your heart pounded, but you pressed on, forcing yourself to ignore the prickling dread. you were here for a treasure whispered about in a village. most wouldn’t have dared come this far.

yet, the stories didn’t come close to capturing the reality.

the flicker of your torch swept across a wide, shadowy space — a stone altar strewn with tarnished gold and faded relics. you were about to reach out when the cave itself seemed to exhale, a sound so low and menacing that it sent an icy jolt straight through you. and then he emerged from the shadows.

the figure was massive, towering, and unmistakably dead. his armor, dark and corroded, seemed to weigh him down, each piece like ancient, heavy iron strapped to bone. his shoulders were broad and hulking, and he moved with an unnatural stillness that made every muscle in your body seize in place. the hood shadowed most of his face, but his eyes… they gleamed green, faintly lit with a supernatural glow that pierced the darkness with an intensity that made you want to run.

but you couldn’t.

your legs felt rooted to the ground, every part of you alive with a fear that bordered on primal. his gaze fixed on you, narrowed and piercing, and he moved closer, each step slow, deliberate. the sound of his boots echoed against the stone walls, mingling with a faint rasping that you quickly realized was his breath — deep, hollow, and cold as death itself. the closer he came, the more you felt the chill radiating from him, a cold that soaked through your skin, settling into your bones, making you feel like prey frozen in the gaze of a predator.

“you…” his throat, mouth and vocal cords were clearly damaged, and sound coming from him was more like wheezing and coughing with something rumbling, a sound coming from his chest. yet it was a deep enough, gravelly rasp that sent an involuntary shudder down your spine. each word felt like stone grinding against stone, a sound that wasn’t meant for the ears of the living. “another thief come to desecrate my tomb?”

he loomed over you, nearly a foot taller, and though his face remained mostly hidden, you could see the lines of hardened bone, twisted by time. he looked like something that had clawed its way out of the underworld, not just some story told to frighten children. you could feel his anger like a physical force, pressing against you, filling the air with a menacing weight that made your breath hitch.

“i —” you stammered, barely managing to find your voice. your hands shook, your mind racing with excuses, explanations — anything that might soothe the wrath of this ancient creature. “i didn’t think — i mean, i didn’t know you were… real.”

the words sounded foolish, childish, even to you, but you could feel his gaze intensify, piercing and unwavering.

“you mortals never think,” he growled, taking another slow, deliberate step toward you. you pressed back against the cold stone of the altar, every instinct screaming to run, yet trapped by his gaze. “and yet you come, chasing gold and glory. seeking what you have not earned.” he let his words hang in the air, thick and heavy with disdain.

as he spoke, you noticed the faint gleam of a blade strapped to his side, its edge worn but sharp, and you had no doubt it would slice through you in a heartbeat if he chose to use it.

“what… drives a mortal to invade a place meant for the dead?” he croaked, his tone less angry now, but still dripping with suspicion. there was a twisted curiosity there, mingling with his disdain, as though he were scrutinizing you, searching for an answer that would make sense of your presence here.

you swallowed, trying to steady yourself enough to speak, though your voice trembled as you answered. “i… i heard about the treasures here. i thought it was just…story. just an old story to scare children.” you hesitated, meeting his gaze as best you could, even as a chill washed over you, every inch of your skin prickling with fear. “i didn’t think… that it would be guarded.”

he tilted his head, an unreadable expression crossing his shadowed face. his lips twisted into what might have been a sneer, or perhaps a smirk — it was impossible to tell. “it was men who came before,” he hissed, almost to himself. his gaze flickered over you, as though he were assessing something different, some detail about you that set you apart from the others who had come before. “yet here you are. foolish…”

his tone was chillingly indifferent, a touch of dark amusement cutting through his fury. as he took a final step, closing the distance between you, you could feel his cold breath brush against your face, a touch that felt like a warning as his eyes bore into you. his voice dropped to a low, rumbling whisper. “do you know what fate awaits those who disturb the peace of the dead?”

you shook your head, not trusting your voice. every instinct screamed to flee, yet you were captivated by your own terror.

Chris’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and in that silence, you sensed something change. he was still terrifying, still monstrous, but a flicker of curiosity had joined the malice in his stare. it was as if your presence had stirred something within him, something that hadn’t stirred in centuries.

“tell me, mortal,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful, “what makes you any different from the fools who came before you?”

and as his eyes met yours, sharp and unyielding, you felt as though you were being weighed, measured by an ancient creature. he was no mere guardian, no simple guard to be outrun or outwitted. he was a spirit bound by death and anger, as much a part of the treasure he guarded as any piece of gold. and yet, against every instinct, every shred of reason, you felt the barest hint of intrigue flicker in his gaze.

Kwon Hyuk

poltergaist

moving into the apartment was a compromise between your budget and your nerves. the place wasn’t much — peeling paint, narrow halls that sighed with age, the endless creaks that echoed even when you were alone. but rent was cheap, and as a student, you needed cheap more than you needed comfort.

it started innocently enough — little things, easily explained. doors closed just after you left them open, faint scratching sounds from within the walls, lights flickering overhead. you convinced yourself it was nothing, brushing it off as an old building settling. but then, the noises became louder. clearer. as if someone — or something — was listening, waiting.

the feeling of being watched crept into your bones. you’d catch glimpses in the corners of mirrors, shadows moving when you were perfectly still. a prickling sensation would crawl up your spine when you turned off the lights, only to grow stronger, more pointed. some nights, as you lay in bed, you swore you could feel cold air ruffling your hair, a whisper-light touch that disappeared when you jolted up to check. each time you looked, the room was empty, but the feeling of dread lingered, thick and oppressive.

then, it escalated.

you came home one evening to find the kitchen in disarray — cups and plates carefully stacked into a pyramid on the counter, all balanced so precariously that you only had to breathe near them for it to come crashing down. it felt like a taunt, a child’s game, and yet it left your hands shaking. you cleaned it up, all the while feeling the icy weight of unseen eyes watching, almost amused.

in the following days, the disturbances grew darker. doors no longer merely closed but slammed, hard enough to rattle the walls. your belongings would appear in places you’d never left them — your phone in the freezer, your books stacked upside down, your shoes arranged in pairs by your bed. one night, you found the word HELLO written across the bathroom mirror in streaks of condensation, though you hadn’t showered.

each night became a test of endurance. scratches appeared on the walls, faint at first, but then louder, more insistent, like nails scraping down to get your attention. the sound would follow you from room to room, echoing in the dead silence, growing fiercer when you tried to ignore it. then the lights began to flicker not randomly but in patterns, on and off in a slow, mocking rhythm that felt like it was waiting for you to notice.

and you did.

one night, exhausted and desperate for sleep, you turned off the lights and crawled into bed, willing yourself to ignore the eerie sensations that had become part of your every day. just as you started to drift off, you heard floorboards creaked, as if someone was cautiously tiptoeing closer and closer to the bed. a weight pressed down on the foot of the bed, heavy and cold, slowly sinking in beside you. your body froze in terror, heart racing as you held your breath. the bed dipped, creaking under an unseen presence, as if someone had settled right next to you.

you lay still, paralyzed, as icy fingers trailed up your arm, tracing your skin with a sensation so foreign, so unnatural, that it sent a chill down your spine. the cold touched your cheek, feather-light and lingering, like the brush of lips against your skin. your breath hitched, and the room fell silent. the pressure lifted, but the feeling of something lurking stayed, hovering just outside your reach.

that was when the messages began.

written in dust on your desk, scrawled in barely-there letters:

miss me? i’m here.

they showed up on your bathroom mirror, traced in streaks of moisture, smeared across your textbooks in faint pencil. each word a reminder that you were not alone, that he was there, hidden in the shadows, watching, listening.

one evening, exhausted and drained, you decided to ignore the signs. you’d convinced yourself that it was all in your head, a trick of nerves and exhaustion. but that night, he grew angry.

the temperature in the room plummeted, your breath misting in the air. walls shuddered as something invisible began slamming doors, cabinets, drawers, every corner of the apartment alive with rage. a framed photo fell from the wall, shattering at your feet, its glass shards scattering like ice. you stumbled back, your heart racing as the lights flickered, plunging the room into pitch black.

and then, in the silence, you heard it: a low, chilling whisper close to your ear, so close that it brushed against your skin.

don’t ignore me.

you screamed and stumbled away, turning on every light in a panic. but the apartment remained quiet, the air heavy with a quiet menace that settled into your bones, making it clear that the walls themselves seemed to cling to you. and as you glanced back at the broken glass, you saw a final message scratched into the dust beneath your feet:

i wanna play.

and you knew, with a sickening twist in your stomach, that this was no ordinary haunting. that he — whoever he was — wanted you there, bound to the apartment just as he was, with a twisted affection buried in every scrape, every chill, every whisper.

MASTERLIST

[hadeelchilds]

As we see what is happening in Lebanon, in Gaza we have been suffering the same massacres and genocide for almost a year, our suffering we do not know when it will end.

We have been cut off from food and medicine, since the first week we were forced to leave our homes and go to the south, and since we left our homes we have been moving from one place to another in search of a safe area to shelter our children and protect them from the enemy's massacres.

Where is the humanitarian community??

We are in dire need of help, my small family and I want nothing but safety and to live in peace.

My husband and I had a startup company, we worked in the field of programming systems, websites and electronic marketing, and our work was online and all our projects were for the Gulf countries and Saudi Arabia.

Since the war started, our company was bombed from the first hour, including our laptops and the company's devices, and we lost the trust of our customers due to the long period of power and internet outages. We are now without work, without shelter, without food. We carry our small tent over our heads and we move with our children, Mira and Nadia, from one place to another in search of safety that we have not found yet.

What injustice must we live through for the human community to help us!!

We are not used to asking for help from anyone, but what forced us were the circumstances we went through. How will we feed our children? How will we provide them with shelter?

All this while I am in the seventh month of pregnancy and I suffer from the risks and fears of childbirth under these circumstances, as epidemics and diseases have spread and there is no clean water to drink and no treatments for pregnancy.

I came to the Tumblr community thanks to the experience and you were the best community I have reached, any support or help whether through donations or sharing is like salvation for me and my family. 🙏

I need help not only to travel but also to provide food, treatment and shelter for me and my family, so please support my little family, 5€ is not a cost for you but its total helps me a lot in reaching my goal.

Thank you very much to everyone who helped me whether by donating, sharing or even asking about our conditions 🙏

[probablyasocialecologist]

London did try to cobble together a three-part strategy for a sustainable, if vastly reduced, postwar empire: first, consolidate smaller colonies into cost-effective confederations; next, control their exports to capture hard-currency profits; and finally, cling to military bases critical for imperial defense. For instance, it merged nine sultanates and two crown colonies into the Federation of Malaya to control the US dollars earned from its rubber exports, which provided, by 1952, 35 percent of Britain’s net balance of payments with the dollar area. So critical was this cash flow that London dispatched 50,000 troops, who would fight for a decade to crush a communist revolt and keep Malaya in the British Commonwealth. Similarly, the Central African Federation combined three colonies to secure the dollars from Zambia’s copper exports while supporting a small number of white settlers in Zimbabwe (then Southern Rhodesia), who had been allocated 50 million acres of farmland, compared to only 29 million for Africans. In the Persian Gulf, British Petroleum explored for oil while British advisers led seven sheiks into a federation that later became the petro-rich United Arab Emirates. Over the longer term, the Federation of Malaya and the United Arab Emirates proved relatively stable independent states, while their Central African counterpart broke apart, after mass protests and inept colonial repression, into the nations of Malawi, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.

Alfred W. McCoy, To Govern the Globe: World Orders and Catastrophic Change