#military ribbons

[pinitcard]

[tuttomilitare]

[githjanken]

so at worldcon all the future bids also had tables and ngl but i wonder how worldcon justifies being “for the future” when one of the bids for 2027 is actively committing a genocide at this moment in time

[arctic-reptile]

sukekiyo SUPERNOVA KAWASAKI day 2 (08.04.2024)!! god they all look amazing

kyo from instagram, yuchi and takumi from twitter :]

[sysig]

They need long hair, and to put it in a bow! (Patreon)

[oldinterneticons]

[pluckyshroom]

birfdet gift for @tactical-whorefare

fancy party

[whispering-kavka]

gross/scary under the cut !

so today my dad had a house showing scheduled w/ a potential buyer and i wanted to come with him to see if there's any cool stuff my grandma had (she did and i brought some of them home ^-^ i now have a cute silver/mirror-like tray, a decorative fruit bowl and a fish pitcher!!) so he was just telling the guy about the house and i was just looking around on my own time we ended up kinda splitting, they left the upstairs as i was done with the ground floor, and went to the basement while i went upstairs and here comes the horrid part so the house has many holes in the roof meaning it's very uh. wet in there. one room (kitchen??) had a small pond forming there . but then to my horror i saw the cobwebs. there were so many of them . that on it's own wouldn't be terrible, of course spiders run wild when there's nobody around ! but they were just so . large and they were hanging from places i really wasn't used to seeing them in. that was only a bit unnerving but then i found the spiders. in total, there were only two alive daddy longlegs on the ground floor. the absurd amount of huge spider corpses were almost everywhere. and completely covered in fluffy white mold. after i noticed that fuzz i got real worried about touching any and all cobwebs because 1) GROSS 2)DANGEROUS MAYBE?

obviously mold grows on everything when the right conditions are met but like. it was really spooky seeing all those spiders like this 😰

now a smart person after witnessing that would go "huh! better leave and not come back any time soon :)" but as we all know i have about 1 braincell to my name and wanted to see what the attic looked like NEWSFLASH IDIOT IT'S ALSO FULL OF HUGE COBWEBS AND DEAD SPIDERS COVERED IN MOLD . also i managed to ram my head right into the roof while i was entering and tbh that's probably for the better because the attic was dark as hell and my phone flashlight was too weak for that darkness. but i did get a glimpse of all the same things i've screamed about before but somehow the one spider was even bigger than the others . must've had a good life there before the mold hit . but that was the moment i decided i was done with it and went downstairs only to find out that the door is fucking locked . that entire trip felt like a goddamn tma episode but thankfully the door's lock just got a bit jammed and my dad came to rescue me after i called him :')

so after being repeatedly spooked by scary mold, hitting my head hard enough to feel my teeth rattle and getting locked in, you'd think "yeah that's enough for kavvie for today :)" but you'd be WRONG because i also wanted to see the basement and [literally nothing new. more dead spiders and cobwebs.]

in conclusion, i would be perfectly fine if the spiders were alive and not consumed by the mold thank you and goodnight

[pinitcard]

[tuttomilitare]

[activevirtues]

one time my partner and his best friend were having a conversation about what qualified as a trophy and in response I spent 90 minutes researching and developing the following chart

anyway thanks for polls tumblr i'm sure nothing bad will come of this

Giving this website full of autistics obsessed with ranking and categorising stuff a poll option is like giving rats one of those buttons that makes cocaine

[jcbveteran]

Thank you for?

What is going on, the new band wagon surfaces.  This suicide prevention stuff is BS the only reason for it is to get some group, money or to make themselves feel good while their actions produce nothing beneficial for a veteran.  Just like this crap the yellow ribbons, that makes the family perhaps feel something, but what.

The revolting comment idiots make " THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE", that has become another comment people rattle out of their mouths but their actions towards veterans proves otherwise.

What is going on???  All this time they called race discriminatory, age as being illegal to question basically who cares? the we have alphabet soup of  gender distinctions and species whether male or female so what changed they only care for that which makes them have power.  Here comes the One that really rattles me.

Woman's Month. Black Month, Hispanic Month, females in history month, EVER ASK WHY THERE DOES NOT EXIST A White Man's Month, or Christian Month,  LGPTCGRIONBDSET Month, Pride Month  etc 

Purpose to enhance services for females, where are the ENHANCEMENTS FOR THE MALE VETERANS???This is such crap it is really totally BS CRAP.  Bottom Line enlistments are down so now we need to address females etc. Showing the "WE" care??  Those who have actually been in combat not in a theater era, or whatever know WOMEN HAVE A ZERO ! Place in the battlefield already the get special treatment, changed PT standards, that time of the month , then just changing the entire conduct of feminizing the military become

EFFEMINATE there by destroying the functionality of the MILI

[ilookattextile]

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago. 

[cardierreh15]

Laurie Booty- I mean Brooke’s— fuck you and your shitty, miseducating ass article. You suck along with the rest of the actors who willingly continue to look stupid in public, wearing that shit.

fucking despicable

[babyleostuff]

─ PINK RIBBONS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792

natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go

⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.

“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you. 

your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion. 

you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.

“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.  

jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.” 

your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity. 

looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much. 

you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less. 

and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home? 

“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart. 

were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.

“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”

“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.

“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?” 

you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan. 

“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.

“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh. 

what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you. 

for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Perfect: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Mija

"I've got a present for you."

Alexia flips another page in her book. "Put it under the tree."

"No," Olga says," I'm giving it to you now."

Alexia frowns, finally putting the book down. "It's still a few days before Christmas. Why give it to me now? We're going to my mother's soon."

Olga huffs, rolling her eyes. "Can you play along for just a minute, please?"

"Fine. Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Close your eyes."

Alexia does as she says, closing her eyes.

She can hear Olga moving about.

"And now hold your hands out."

Alexia holds her hands out and a weight is put into them.

"Open!"

You're in her arms, in a new sets of Christmas-red pyjamas with Santa's face in the middle and a big red bow placed on your head.

You're beaming, fingers pressed into your mouths as you kick your legs happily the moment Alexia makes eye contact.

"Well..." She says," If it isn't the best present in the world! Did you finally wake up from your nap, Mija? I think you did!"

You giggle hysterically as Alexia kisses your tummy and then your cheeks.

"Are you energised to see your Abuela and your Tia? All happy and excited?"

You keep giggling, going all limp in Alexia's arms as she draws you into a little cuddle that has you melting against her.

"A good present?" Olga teases as she pulls on her coat and shoes.

"The most perfect present," Alexia agrees as she forces your wiggling little feet into the cutest pair of boots she's ever seen.

They were a gift from Jenni, an old pair of Osita's that never once got worn because Osita cried the first time she'd tried them on. But they were perfect on you and you wore them happily.

Your little matching jacket is equally as perfect, the same as your little hat and your little scarf that Alexia gently readjusts as she pulls you out of the car while Olga goes up to knock on Eli's front door.

Alba's the one that opens it, allowing Olga in happily before blocking Alexia's way.

"Oh come on," Alexia says with an eye roll," You can't be serious."

"The baby," Alba demands, hands out waiting," I've been deprived of y/n cuddle for ages."

"What do you think, Mija?" Alexia teases, bouncing you softly," Cuddles with Tia Alba or cuddles with Mami?"

You say nonsensical words, nothing more than a string of babble and weird noises but Alexia nods along seriously.

"Sorry, Alba, she wants to stick with me."

She all but shoves past her sister on her way into the house.

"Finally!" Eli, like normal, is a bustle of activity and commanding her household likes it's a military barracks with members of the family sticking closely to the roles she's given them. "I've got a nice little area set up in the sitting room for you to help Mija make some Christmas decorations."

"Mami, she's only little-"

"And I did the same with you and Alba!" Eli waves away Alexia's concerns. "There's instructions on the table so follow them! She'll be making a paper snowflake."

Like Alexia had predicted though, she's doing most of the work. The folding and the cutting and making a little hole at the top so she can thread a tiny piece of green ribbon through it to hang on the tree later today.

You get to have the crayon though.

Eli, like her militarised conveyor belt of aunts and uncles making deserts in the kitchen, had already thought of everything so had preselected the green and red and silver and gold crayons for you to use so it's sufficiently Christmassy.

So, there you sit with the little paper snowflake Alexia made, clumsily scrawling on it with a crayon that you don't even really know how to hold properly while Alba attempts to coerce you into her arms.

You ignore her though, happy sitting on your Mami as she readjusts one of the bows in your hair and straightens out the little outfit you're wearing.

"And what do we do when Tia Alba's being pushy? We stick out tongues out at her!" Alexia demonstrates but you seem more interested in grabbing her tongue in your little finger than you are imitating her.

Before the end of the evening, Alexia manages to make you at least four snowflake decorations for the tree and you take great delight in scrawling over all of them in crayons that Alexia's sure Eli bought just for you.

The decorations hang on the Christmas tree right up until the special day and Alexia takes a moment to smile at your colouring before she sets you down in front of your mountain of gifts.

Perhaps she had gone overboard with the Christmas shopping this year but it was hardly her fault when everyone else had gone overboard too.

Your pile of presents is large and, settled amongst the very middle of it, Alexia can barely see your head poking out from the mountains of boxes surrounding you.

You're not very good at tearing open your gifts so after several minutes of watching you struggle, Alexia settles on the floor with you to help.

"Look, mija," She coos," Another football for you! And a jersey from Ingrid and Mapi. It's got your name on it!"

Most of your gifts have been football related making you the most kitted out baby Alexia's ever seen.

But there's also a toy puppy amongst all the football stuff and cute little outfits that matched many of Alexia's and even a cute little chalkboard and coloured chalk for your bedroom for when you got a bit older.

"And this is from me," Alexia says as she gently unwraps a photo frame," That's you and me, Mija. On adoption day. Look at how happy we are."

You clumsily slap at the picture before forcing it out of Alexia's hand to smack against your lips in a clumsy version of a kiss.

"Yes, Mija," Alexia laughs," That's exactly what I'm doing to you!"