#in the sides of the north:

[nonbinary-vents]

I remember that when everything was happening with Noah Schnapp, so many people were saying that ‘he’s a white coloniser!’ ‘he’s clearly European!’ and ‘how are we supposed to think he’s indigenous to the Middle East when he looks like that?!’ They were screaming so much about he couldn’t possibly be from the swana region due to being pale, despite the fact that… wait for it…

Noah Schnapp is a Moroccan Jew.

The exact the same thing happened with Jerry Seinfeld too, despite him being a Syrian Jew.

But what this tells me is that so many American and European leftists fundamentally do not understand what North Africans and Southwest Asians look like. They do not understand that many Middle Eastern groups are pale, many Middle Eastern groups share features with Europeans— I mean, the Middle East literally borders Europe, did you not expect us to have similarities? This stretches back to the ancient world too. We know that in Yehuda there were gingers, as shown by King David*. Iirc, studies on Rameses the second’s remains show that he most likely had an olive tanned complexion and reddish-blondish hair, similar to a European Mediterranean look— which makes total sense seeing as Egypt is literally a Mediterranean country as well

It’s not just Jews. Persians, Kurds, Assyrians, Copts, Amazigh, Arabs from the Arabian Peninsula**, all of these ethnic groups are incredibly diverse in their features, even without any significant genetic influence from other areas. You cannot just project American and European black and white concepts of race onto the Middle East and act as if that is reality. The world is not split into pale people in the north, brown people in the middle, and black people in the south, and if you genuinely believe that then you really need to look at some pictures of the groups that you’re claiming to be the defender of. Please. I’m so tired of this bullshit lol

*I know that the historical evidence for David is shaky at best and we’re not sure if he was real or not (I personally believe it’s a King Arthur sort of situation where there was a real person here that got turned into legend), what I’m trying to say is that if the Ivrim could have a figure like this who was ginger, then the Ivrim clearly had gingers. Nobody come for me please

**not adding other Arabs because there tends to be genetic mixes with other groups, and my point is about how even without distinct genetic markers from each other, middle easterners groups can turn out with a super intense variation in appearance, especially skin tone

[hauntedorpheum]

Old Hollywood having a gay old time!

[mike-milkyway]

Gotta appreciate how Black Leg "I'm unlovable, you deserve better than being burdened with me" Sanji is one of those characters that gets shipped with everyone and their moms. Rightfully so, because everyone wants him, he's just very blind to how amazing he is.

[youryurigoddess]

Kind reminder that the A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop was designed by Aziraphale as:

An Eden to return to — for him to guard, for Crowley to feel safe in;

A giant compass showing the directions of the world.

No matter how lost either of them is, they’ll use it to find each other.

[korraofthereef]

Screw Marvel’s What If, I need an Arcane what if:

What if Little Man never told them about the job

What if Powder didn’t go with Silco willingly

What if Powder never showed up to ‘help’

What if Claggor and Mylo survived

What if Caitlyn grew up in The Underground

What if Jayce never got help from that wizard guy

What if Silco and Vander never threw away their friendship

What if Vi and Powder’s parents never died

What if Jinx wasn’t schizophrenic

What if Sevika didn’t lose an arm

What if Vander never took in Powder and Vi

What if Silco traded in Jinx for his Nation of Zaun

Maybe let’s not think too much about this

[herpsandbirds]

Western Side-blotched Lizard (Uta stansburiana elegans), family Phrynosomatidae, Southern CA, USA

photograph by Andrea Kreuzhage

[snototter]

A Pacific white sided dolphin (Lagenorhynchus obliquidens) in Cordell Bank National Marine Sanctuary, California

by NOAA/Jamie Hall

[mercerharlan]

Cold Spring Park neighborhood of Milwaukee

November 2018

[sheepthatgobaa]

he's just a guy

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.

.

one for @lonely-north-star too lmao

[inatungulates]

Pacific white-sided dolphin "Lagenorhynchus" obliquidens

Observed by anudibranchmom, CC BY-NC

[mspeevee]

This month's bus pass keychains...

[babybells123]

(ASOS, Sansa II)

(ASOS, Jon XII)

[faaun]

what draws you back to your country what draws you back to your land when i was a kid i told myself if i ever left iran i'd never go back 2 years into living in the UK i started looking at news on iran again 10 years in and i visited it for the first time again and today i heard an iranian mother talk in farsi to her child on the train to london the way my mother used to and i wanted to cry i wanted to ask her whether they're still cutting the mountaintops whether the lakes are still drying today i showed the person i was with pictures of waterfalls and palaces and forests and snow-white north something odd pulls me back with increasing force i can't ignore it ever again

[spinus-pinus]

Chestnut-sided Warbler Setophaga pensylvanica

6/12/2024 Orange County, Vermont

Matt Felperin via iNaturalist, CC-BY

[wowbright]

Anderson’s Guide to the Birds of North America, Chapter 1: Lover Boy

Summary: Fourteen scenes from the lives of Blaine Anderson, grad student and avid birder, and Kurt Hummel, clothing designer and Vogue writer, from before their first meeting in the spring of 2020 through falling in love.

Note: Back during the COVID lockdowns I wrote a couple hundred words of Klaine lockdown meet-cute. I thought I would write more, but I guess I didn't feel like writing about the COVID lockdown during the COVID lockdown, so I never did and I never posted the tiny bit I had written. Thanks to Klaine Valentine’s Challenge 2025, I’m finally doing the thing! I'm trying to keep each chapter to around 500 words. Thanks @spaceorphan!

AO3

~~~

Chapter 1: Lover Boy

Blaine was going to go insane.

He knew he should be grateful. He had it better than a lot of other people. He didn't have to worry about where his next paycheck was coming from, because he didn't get a paycheck, because he was an idiot who had, for some reason, decided his fascination with birds was enough to carry him through another five years of school at minimum after completing college. More to the point, he received monthly distributions from a trust fund his grandparents had set up for him in their wills, and though it didn't make him filthy rich, it gave him enough to live on without having to worry about finances.

But he never would have moved in with Cooper if he���d known they'd be locked up together for weeks (or would it be months?) on end. He loved his brother, but his brother was a lot. At least they had separate bedrooms, plus Cooper had the recording studio and was staying fairly busy with audiobook work. Unfortunately, Cooper did not keep all of his acting and voice exercises to the studio. Nor did he keep his opinions to himself, no matter how many times Blaine said, “I'm not changing what I'm making for dinner,” and “This is what I choose to wear and your opinion has no bearing on the matter,” and “I'm sorry you can't go to the gym, but no, you do not have my permission to use me as a dumbbell for bench presses.”

Blaine was spending increasing amounts of time shut in his bedroom with ear plugs and noise canceling headphones on, working on compiling and coding his field research notes and, when that became too tiresome, checking recently submitted species sightings on ebird.org for potential errors.

Today, he was listening to his Upbeat Sexy With a Twist of Romance playlist—the one he used to listen to while getting dressed for a night out on the town. Oh, what a different time that had been. Now instead of gelling his hair while crooning along to Freddie Mercury singing Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy, whatcha doin’ tonight?  while hoping to get laid or better yet find love, he was bobbing along to the song while entering numbers into a spreadsheet.

But that could be good, too. The rhythm of the music combined with the spreadsheet sent him into a near hypnotic trance that made him forget time and boredom and COVID. It was as close as Blaine got to heaven these days.

A sudden weight on his shoulder jarred him out of his trance.

His brother period of course. Just when Blaine’s mind had found some semblance of peace, Cooper had to disturb it.

He removed his headphones and one ear plug. “What is it, Coop?”

“New lockdown project: I’m going to turbocharge my manscaping routine. I need waxing tips.”

“You interrupted my work for that?”

Cooper waved at the computer screen dismissively. “You should be thanking me. That must be incredibly boring. What do all those numbers even mean?”

Blaine looked at his brother. He looked at the numbers. He looked at his brother again. “I mean this with all due respect, but I seriously want to kill you right now.” He closed his eyes. He took a breath. “I'm going for a walk.”

Blaine had already been for a walk that morning. It was the migratory season, so of course he had. He’d gone out with his binoculars as soon as the sun started twinkling over the horizon. He’d ticked off twenty-seven species, including his first American redstart of the season along with plenty of palm and yellow-rumped warblers, but apparently two hours of birding in the morning wasn't enough to keep him sane.

He jumped from his chair, pulled on a jacket, and grabbed his binoculars. “I'm going to walk until I no longer feel murderous. Love you!” The door slammed behind him.