#overseas camping

[desolate-horizons]

Altan Uul (алтан уул) the Golden Mountain

Khövsgöl Province (Хөвсгөл)

Mongolia

NOMAD Science Bioarchaeology

4th to 7th (5th) of July 2023

5th of July after storms had rolled in during the afternoon. The sunset that night was amazing and still one of the best of the 3 weeks in the field.

[the-physicality]

phoenix mercury v m******** l***

big mad right now @ the refs

we were literally the second highest scoring team today, and we lost by the slimmest margin [and everyone thought we were gonna get bl*wn out by 20]

BG probably should have taken 14 free throws. she took 6. because apparently she gets no calls and offensive fouls when she tries to play through contact.

we shot better than them from 3 and from the field overall

we came back from like 23 points down

DT and Tash going shot for shot i love it

i know i've said it twice already but it is worth saying again: celeste takes an elbow to the face is on the ground, might have a Broken Nose and collier doesn't get called for anything??? and the refs [maybe?] force nate to take a time out??????????? make that make sense. but if BG does it while stepping through contact and shooting it's an offensive foul???????????

NATASHA CLOUD 33 POINT GAME SHOOTING 60% ON 23 SHOTS, 50% FROM THREE ON EIGHT, POINTS ASSISTS DOUBLE DOUBLE

DT SHOOTING 50%, 5/10 FROM 3, 21 points

celeste and Kah with some absolute dagger 3s

and celeste you did so good tonight. name another rookie [who didn't start] and got substantial playing time and really contributed. you can't.

and of all the ones that played substantial minutes, it's her, CC, and LF

to recap, we shot 50% from the field, and 51.9% from 3

to recap again: the refs saw a 91-92 game with 3 minutes left and said well shit. i guess we have to start putting some bogus calls against the merc out. that's the only explanation I have

[fouryearsofshades]

regional hanfu styles?

i've always wondered if hanfu ever varied from region to region? what i've seen so far on hanfu makes it look like everyone wore the same styles across china but that seems so strange since most of chinese culture is very regional. so are there region specific hanfu styles or is hanfu really that general?

Hi!

It totally did historically. The further away a region from the centre of fashion (e.g. the capital) was, the more behind the fashion the region was. Usually the distinctions could be found in embroidery style, cut, length etc. I read that sometimes it could be a couple decades behind, especially in times of unrest and wars. A more recent example could be seen in Chinese diaspora in the late Qing, e.g. a Vancouver Chinese tend to dress in an older style then like say, Shanghai. Also last year a local hanfu tailor shop was submitted to a weibo tea account because it is too pricey for its old-school out-of-fashion products. (They do occasionally have some more "up-to-date" hanfu.) On the other hand, sometimes the royals would want to keep a look of "plain and simple", like in Ming dynasty, the fashion inside the Imperial Palace was lagging behind. When the clothing length and sleeves sizes increased in the South (Jiangnan area), the clothing inside the palace was kept shorter and fitter.

Modernly, since a lot of hanfu community is online, the distinction isn't as obvious, especially when most people buy hanfu online. There are distinction in materials and layering mostly due to the local climate, e.g. Guangzhou residents (in the south of China) might still be wearing a thin ao, while people in Beijing will have worn layers of wool, fur or dawn. Sometimes local communities of hanfu-ers would have a certain styles (either because there is a popular fashion icon in the group or they tend to bulk purchase from the same shop), but I usually can't tell them apart unless I am familiar with said group.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"MCNAUGHTON AIDE. - Lieut. Ian W. Bell-Irving, 23, son of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Bell-Irving, Onslow Place, West Vancouver, has been named aide-de-camp to Lieut.-General A. G. L. McNaughton overseas, according to word received here.

Lieut. Bell-Irving, a graduate of Shawnigan Lake School and King George High School, went overseas in April, 1942, to join the 1st Battalion, Seaforth Highlanders in England." - from The Province (Vancouver). March 13, 1943. Page 5.

[daggers-drawn-returns]

Help Our Trans Camp in A Homeless Squatter Town Raise $200 to Buy 6 Months of Hormones for the Local Trans Community

Sunday, December 10th, 2023

My girlfriend and I are trans women who live in a homeless squat town in the Sonora Desert called Slab City.

We have no healthcare coverage or endos down here so we usually source bulk hormones from overseas pharmaceutical companies.

Recently we've started running out of hormones and we have no money to get more. if you could spare some cash it'd be helping not only us, but all the undiagnosed and uncovered trans people down here that we share with.

We need $100 for estradiol and an additional $100 for medroxy-progesterone acetate.

Neither of us have a regular income, but we're both involved in a project to better our local community.

Please Dоnаte to Help Us Raise $200 to be Able to Afford Hormones for Ourselves and The Other Trans Women in Our Community.

❤ CаshApp: $ThistleDD

❤ Pаypal: paypal.me/ThistleDD

❤ Vеnmo: @ThistleDD

If you can't dоnаte please reblog and share on your other accounts. Every little bit helps.

[serial-unaliver]

the democrats have been "abusing power" like republicans to commit war crimes overseas. obviously this is done by republicans too but i've seen some people imply democrats don't make significant use of US government power when in reality they are, they're just doing it when it benefits them most, which is advancing US hegemony; addressing wishes of their voterbase within the US is less of a concern when they already have an electoral advantage as one of two primary parties, maintaining the "vote blue no matter who" camp.

[iwan1979]

all d best Max... https://www.facebook.com/100025677918782/posts/1117808385751748/?app=fbl

[gremlingottoosilly]

Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 

— What are you doing here? 

Ah. 

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 

— Can’t you talk? 

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 

— What is that? 

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 

— I’m not…that. 

— I can see. 

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 

Hm. 

Is it supposed to be this big? 

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 

— Why? 

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 

— Are you cold? 

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 

— Do you have a husband? 

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 

— Are you going to leave soon? 

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 

[lilacrwses]

▸ their s/o is drunk and doesn't recognize 'em

summary: Partying all night, dancing and definitely drinking made you drunk enough to not recognize your sweet boyfriend.

ft: iwaizumi, bokuto

note: i hope you guys like this, it’s been a while

Iwaizumi

Iwa just came back from a training camp overseas, so he was really tired and just want to cuddle with you.

Might he be forgetting that you were partying out with your friends so he expects that you won't be coming home early?

He did quite everything while waiting for you, cleaning the apartment-which by the way he realized that it was already clean enough on its own.

He took a bath, and would probably get in trouble as he used your favorite bath bomb without permission, but nothing a kiss can't fix.

Well, what he had to do next was just wait for you. The moment his phone lights up and recognizes his ringtone only for your contact- he rushes swiftly and answered it only to be welcomed by your friends voice?

"Iwaizumi-chan, hello! Can you pick up Y/n at XXX-XXX-XXX. She's pretty tipsy at the momeng. Don't rush though! we'll be with her till you're here." He gets his car keys and locks the apartment door before going out. "I'll be there in 5." He quickly presses the red button which ends the call.

Numerous thoughts were clouding his brain right now. Mainly focused on you and how tipsy are you.

In just a couple of minutes, his phone had told him to turn and then he'll arrive at his destination. No doubt that you were right there sitting out at one of the chairs of the club with your friends.

To say that you were cute doing nothing makes him realize how badly he's down for you.

"Iwaizumi-chan! Thank god you're here. She's been telling us how much she misses you, please take care of her from her." Iwa nods and gave a wave to your friends and then focuses his vision on your body.

He walked closer to your figure and helped you stand, but he was just pushed away. Dumbfounded he cooed you and tried again.

"If you lay your hand on me one. more. time, I promise my boyfriend will beat you into a pulp." he smirks and leans in closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? I bet you must love your boyfriend to reject someone like me huh." He plays along with the drunken act. "I love him so much that it hurts." He panics when tears came out of his eyes.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi cups your cheeks and wiped the stray tears away. You looked into his eyes and you noticed a familiar warm loving gaze that you'd been missing for a while.

"Are you my hajime? B-but he wasn’t supposed to come home till….tonight" You hiccup.

“You’re my haji!”

"Yes, baby. Now, will you let me touch you now?" You nodded and jumped into his arms right now.

"Ooof- Careful right there." He didn't hear anything but your cute little snores, he might be tired right now but having that little talk with you just gave him a bit-- a lot of energy in return.

Bokuto

This big ball of fluff was with his teammates for an after-party game.

You, on the other hand, are with your friends and are bar hopping. Expectantly Bokuto wandered his eyes searching for a familiar person, but none to be found.

He just thought that you are still probably having fun with your friends.

He reassured himself that a little bit over twelve is still early so here he is patiently waiting for you (even though there's a slight chance you'll never come) while still enjoying his time with his very own friends.

From the perspective of his teammates, it was odd to see Bokuto sitting in one place and not moving so much. Is it because of his drink?

The loud music of the bar made communication a tad difficult. However, Bokuto did not fail to hear his phone ring with the help of the ringing vibration, of course.

His face did lit up when he saw your nickname on his screen and almost took no time to answer the phone.

"My pretty baby! I miss you so much, What took you so long to call, I was waiting." Bokuto is now in his baby voice pouting, much to his joy it was actually your friend who called him and told him you guys were sitting from a distance to where he and his teammates were.

"Oh, thanks! I'll be right there in a minute." It might seem that Bokuto was drinking beer the whole time but it was actually just an orange juice. He didn't plan on getting drunk before he could pick you up.

Akaashi had told him it was not a gentlemanly move to be drunk and be taken care of his s/o. But to be completely honest, Akaashi just told him that so he could spare you handling Bokuto's weakness #12.

He finally saw where you were when he noticed one of your friends waved their hands to get Bokuto's attention. "Bokuto-kun, we're really sorry. She got pretty enthusiastic and got carried away." your friend scratched her nape.

"It's ok, I'll take her from here. Thanks for dropping by though."

Your friends bid goodbyes to Bokuto before leaving. Your boyfriend helped you stand up, you were blinking your eyes trying to see the person that's in front of you. The moment Bokuto landed his hands to your waist you pushed him enough to collide with another person.

Bokuto apologized repeatedly before directing his attention to you again. His thoughts start to bother him. Couldn't you recognize him? How many drinks did you take?

But He tried again, "Y/n baby, it's Kou. You're boyfriend." It seemed that his puppy eyes were enough for you to recognize him.

"Kou?" He nodded

"Yes! Yes, baby!"

You immediately jumped your way to Bokuto, and kissed him."You're my Kou!" He laughed catching you in his arms. "Now let's get you home." He kisses your lips before dropping a text to his team's group chat.

Akaashi was right! He should be taking care of you when you're drunk. Only because he gets to see this new side of you.

[fuck-hamas-go-israel]

Ethnic cleansing? Genocide? Apartheid?

Throwing around these buzzwords to describe the Israel-Hamas war because you’ve seen them on social media doesn’t make you right, and it doesn’t make you an activist.

It makes you ignorant, intellectually dishonest, and lazy for parroting biased talking points with no concept about what these terms actually mean.

What is apartheid?

Well, it was first used to describe the political system in South Africa and today’s Namibia whereby racism was institutionalised. This manner of governance meant that clear racial segregation would occur, in a manner that benefited the white race and would actively oppress those who had darker skin.

This meant that there were white-only spaces, white people would get prioritised when it came to education and jobs, and relationships/marriages between white peoples and coloured people were illegal.

Is Israel objectively an apartheid state? There are no laws that actively favour one group over the other. There is a sizeable population of Israeli Arabs that can thrive in the same way as the Israeli Jews can. There are laws against discrimination on the basis of gender, race/ethnicity, and sexual orientation.

Palestinians from Gaza are allowed to work in Israel through a work permit system. There are about 150,000 Palestinians working in Israel, most of which live in Israel and some come from Gaza/the West Bank. They aren’t denied rights institutionally.

Is it harder to get a job or education in Israel if you’re a Palestinian from Gaza? Sure, because of different governments. It’s like how it’s a lot easier for you to find a job in your own country (in terms of paperwork and bureaucracy) than overseas. But you’re not denied the right to apply.

Of course, if you have a history of violence, a criminal record, or your family has ties to terrorists, then it’ll be a lot harder to get an approved work permit. But that’s not apartheid. That’s common sense, and a regulation practiced by all countries that minimally desire to protect their own population from danger.

Ethnic cleansing and genocide

These two concepts can go hand-in-hand. Ethnic cleansing refers to the mass expulsion or killing of a group of people based on their ethnicity. Similarly, genocide is the purposeful killing of a group of people solely with the intention of annihilating them.

Famous examples? The Holocaust, of course, where the Nazi regime believed in the superiority of the Aryan race and decided to declare genocide on the Jews, Romanis, the LGBTQ+ community, people with disabilities, people with “Asian features”, and many many other groups. Anyone who they didn’t think was “pure”.

Their aim was to ensure that the Aryan race propagated without having “impure” blood affecting the bloodlines. They even started a eugenics programme called Lebensborn to ensure that more pure Aryan babies were born.

More recent examples? The Rwandan genocide where the Hutus attempted to wipe out the Tutsis on the basis of ethnicity. They mandated that Tutsis mention their ethnicity on state-issued ID cards in order for the Hutus in power to be able to identify them and then kill them.

Or the Yazidi genocide which happened so recently, in which ISIL killed, raped, and sent thousands of Yazidis into conversion camps on the basis of their ethnicity. They also took Yazidi women as sex slaves and raped and tortured them.

Or the Rohingya Muslims in the Rakhine State in Myanmar, and how there was a mass killing and expulsion of them from the country, forcing them to flee to Bangladesh to take refuge, crating the world’s largest refugee camp.

Or how ISIS killed thousands of people from Christian groups in Iraq, Syria, Egypt, and Libya because of their faith, leading the US, EU, and UK to label this as religious genocide and condemned their actions.

Has Israel been practicing ethnic cleansing and genocide on Palestinians all these years?

Well, the birth rate of the Palestinian population in Gaza, the West Bank, and in Israel has been steadily increasing all these years.

So, no. No ethnic cleansing, no genocide. They are free to have as many children as they desire.

The UN Genocide Convention

The United Nations has 5 actions that constitute genocide.

1. Killing members of a target group

Israel is targeting Hamas officials with the aim of wiping out the terrorist group and ensuring that such a deadly attack on Israeli soil doesn’t happen again. I suppose you could call it genocide against Hamas, but they’re killing Hamas because they’re terrorists, not because they’re Palestinian. Shouldn’t everyone believe in genocide against terrorists?

But look at Black Saturday. Look at Hamas’ rhetoric. They repeatedly call for the annihilation of Israel and genocide of Jews. When will the media start believing what they say, word for word, instead of trying to spin it into “hmm maybe they want to kill all the Jews because they’re freedom fighters!”

War has collateral damage. Of course the innocent civilians don’t deserve to suffer just because of the actions of their government, but there have been warnings given to the Palestinian civilians prior to Israel striking the areas. There are consequences of attacking a country first, and then having that country attack you back.

2. Causing people of the group serious bodily or mental harm

The UN refers to sexual violence as the prime example of non-fatal harm.

Sexual violence has occurred. Hamas have kidnapped and raped women and even paraded the bodies of half-naked women around. But I f Israel had done the same, it’ll be the first thing appearing on everyone’s BBC push notifications (without even being confirmed as true).

3. Imposing living conditions intended to destroy the group

Many people refer to the blockade that Israel imposed around the Gaza Strip as an example of this.

This blockade was imposed by both Israel and Egypt in 2005. Its aim was to prevent smuggling of weapons into Gaza, and isolate the reign of Hamas to the region. This was to ensure the safety of Israel and Egypt.

Did this blockade pose serious challenges to the Gazan civilians? Of course. But that’s a consequence of having a terrorist government. If you have a terrorist group running your country, don’t be surprised if neighbouring countries are extra careful about who or what they allow in or out of the borders.

Many authorities from other Arab nations have also expressed approval of Egypt’s border restrictions, and even encouraged Egypt to flood the terror tunnels that Hamas has dug under the city. As a side note, other Arab nations have not historically been very kind or welcoming to Palestinians. Syria has killed over 4000 Palestinians, and many Arab countries are now refusing any refuge for Palestinians. But no one cares about that because it doesn’t make Israel look bad. All they do now is use the images of dead Palestinians under the hands of Syria and reuse them to propagate fake news.

The blockade has been labelled as a human rights violation because of collective punishment. Many humanitarian organisations believe that the blockade has caused the Palestinian civilians disproportionate harm.

Contrary to popular belief, Israel isn’t disallowing humanitarian aid from coming through the borders. Fuel, food, hygiene products, clothes, and shoes have been coming through the borders regularly for years. The Gaza Strip also has electricity and internet access and water.

Do all these items reach the Palestinian civilians? Well, there has been evidence that Hamas has been intercepting a lot of the supplies sent by humanitarian groups. This is not surprising since the UNRWA tweeted that Hamas has stole fuel from hospitals in Gaza in order to launch more rockets at Israel (but quickly deleted it after realising that it goes against their agenda to paint Hamas in a bad light.) In addition, the returned hostages have mentioned that there are many aid supplies hidden in the terror tunnels by Hamas. Instead of giving them to the civilians, they are hoarding it for themselves.

There has also been video evidence that some people are reselling these aid items in stores at exorbitant prices in order to turn profits. This has been well-documented for the last 10 years.

Is blockading the region to mitigate terrorism a disproportionate response? Well, it’s like asking if heightened security and stricter border control at airports is a disproportionate response after 9/11. Is being cautious and worrying about the security of your country an irrational reaction to the constant threat of terrorism?

4. Preventing births

Gaza’s population growth rate per annum is about 1.99%, which is the 39th highest in the world! Their population is allowed to propagate freely.

Israel isn’t preventing births of Palestinian babies.

5. Forcibly transferring children out of the group

No, Israel hasn’t been taking Palestinian children and forcing them to convert/keeping young Palestinian girls as sex slaves. Like I said, if this was truly happening, all the news outlets would be so quick to publish the story before verifying it.

Can we trust the UN Genocide standards?

The UN is known for corruption and have been exploiting the Palestinian people by selling them the humanitarian supplies instead of distributing them for free, which they should because these supplies literally are donations.

The UN also has differing standards of what they would label as genocide. For example, they refuse to call what China is doing to the Uyghurs in Xinjiang as genocide, even though the situation does fit many of their own criteria.

Hence, to all of you out there overusing these terms without knowing what they mean, make up your own mind about things. No one can force you to believe anything and no one can force you to change your mind.

But at the very least, do your due diligence and educate yourself before spouting tired buzzwords. Repeating misinformation doesn’t help anyone and can be very harmful.

[httpserb]

I love imposing all my headcannons into my writing like yes tobio is oddly good at physics and math which he uses for volleyball, yes his parents are constantly overseas, yes he is so naive and lost looking all the time people feel the need to guide him or talk to him (thank you s4 tokyo all-japan camp for proving this true), yes he is babied bc he is the youngest and never knows wth is going on

[bucketsofgiggles]

a couple weeks ago i fucking goofed and left my most prized comfort item in a hotel room. it's a small doll that i still sleep with so it got tangled in the sheets and i just missed it while doing my pre-check out sweep of the room. i reported him lost but the hotel was never able to find it. they even called the offsite laundry service they contract with and they didn't find it either. he was so old and worn in spots that, after a week, i just assumed he was destroyed in the industrial washing machines. i was heartbroken and, as dramatic as it feels to say as a 28-year-old with a grown up job and two graduate degrees, i legit grieved over it.

the specific kind of doll it was is out of production, but it didn't take much Googling to find listings of the same kind on Ebay. i found one reasonably priced one that was leftover stock from a store (new with the tags on and everything). it got to my place today. and i'm just struck by how strange it is to own something that is both the exact same doll as the one i lost and yet it isn't. obviously the new one isn't worn in spots, still has all it's stuffing, parts of it aren't hanging on by threads, the colors are still vibrant. but it also isn't the one that went to camp and college and up and down the coast and overseas, didn't live with me in two houses, two dorm rooms, and four apartments. wasn't held by friends and pets and slept on in so many beds and dropped onto my old camp's gravel roads and inside suitcases and backpacks long since trashed. it holds none of the memories of it's predecessor and yet i'm reminded of every one just by glancing at it. so mass produced thousands and thousands of them exist and this specific one i now hold is and is not mine all at the same time. i replaced it for $20. it was utterly irreplaceable.

[apas-95]

Couldnt it be argued that the US is still a slave republic? Domestically, there is slave labor through the prison system, human and labor trafficking, and only a few decades ago, if at that, systems such as convict leasing, share cropping, and debt peonage. Internationally, there is also the fact that for conflict minerals, coffee, chocolate, and other commodities, a portion if not the majority of it is sourced from slave labor.

The use of slavery in and of itself doesn't constitute the slave-society stage of production. Slavery continues to exist under feudalism and capitalism, but not as the driving force of society as in the ancient slave republics. Politically, in the modern USA, it is the bourgeoisie that are in power; and economically, it is the exploitation of waged labour (much of it overseas) that is the basis of production.

Further, slaves in the US are owned either by the state, in state prisons, and leased to private companies; or owned by large companies directly in private prisons. The individual or smallholder ownership of slaves was done away with in the USA's previous civil war: carried out between the industrial haute-bourgeois of the developed north, and the agricultural petty gentry of the southern hinterland. Slaves in the US today are the exclusive property of the bourgeoisie, through their corporations or bourgeois state.

While large amounts of raw materials are sourced through slave labour, as are agricultural goods, slave labour in the broadest sense is not applicable to industrial production of the type required by modern capitalism - if for nothing else than reasons of profitability. The slave labourer is effectively themselves human capital, part of the machinery bought wholesale - while they still effectively carry out labour, they fundamentally do not produce surplus value in the same manner as a wage-worker; it is necessary for their food and other reproductive labour to be given to them without cost, in the same way one carries out maintenance on equipment - whereas a wage-worker is only purchased and employed as capital for the duration of the workday, and then is responsible for their own food, housing, and reproductive labour. The principal exception to the use of slave labour in industrial production (which already has an exceedingly high fixed-capital cost compared to agriculture) is in the historical case of fascism, where primitive accumulation and war industry led to conditions favourable to industrial slave labour, which was carried out en-masse by e.g. German industrial syndicates using concentration camp labourers.

While the earlier USA, as a settler nation, made heavy use of both slavery and primitive accumulation, this was necessarily a historically-contingent process, one carried out by the European empires precisely because the Americas had not been 'brought up to' the level of social contradiction they had. Slavery's profitability necessarily fell as the USA industrialised, and remains now only in certain key industries like agriculture and military production. Historically, again, the movement to make slavery a profitable general venture in the era of capitalism is the fascist movement, which attempts generally to replace the proletariat at large by mobilising the higher strata upwards, into petty-bourgeois smallholders (e.g. wehrbauern), converting the middle strata into slaves, and exterminating the lower strata - a movement that fundamentally requires both large swathes of cleared land as well as mass depopulation, due to the lower population density such an essentially backwards mode of production can support. Ultimately, it is a project doomed to failure, due to the impossibility of turning back history - but one the bourgeoisie are inevitably driven to attempt when capitalism starts nearing the end of its profitability.

In the USA, historically, the exploitation of indigenous nations and external colonies has provided a source of profit and primitive accumulation that has rendered a genuine fascist movement effectively unnecessary, despite the middle-class yearning for it, but these systems are themselves drying up, and the US, while not a slave republic, will soon start attempting to fashion itself into one by carving up its population.

I hope this has answered your question, thank you for writing in!

[reminiscingtonight]

Eras Of Us (Pt. 2)

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Part One

[WOSO Masterlist]

Nothing can break your high. 

Playing in your first London derby, scoring in your first London derby, is a feeling you’re never going to forget. 

Until someone so graciously reminds you of the implications of such a win. 

“Emma Hayes is gonna be my new coach,” you moan.

“Rough,” Alessia snorts, ignoring the way you smack at her arm.

The two of you are out with the rest of the girls, capping off the win against Chelsea with a couple of drinks at a bar near the stadium. Around you are a mix of reds and blues, all of the players good friends despite the outcome of the match. 

Despite starting your night hanging by Leah, the blonde basically mothering you to death since your move overseas, you somehow find yourself tucked into Alessia’s side merely a few minutes later. It makes your heart skip a beat when you feel her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. 

“It’s not funny! What if she takes me wrecking her club team personally and doesn’t give me a call up to the next camp?”

Alessia gives you a look.

It’s enough to make you feel chastised. You sigh, hanging your head. “Fine, she wouldn’t do that. But she might make me run extra laps as punishment!”

Alessia laughs again, shoving at head when you wack her arm again. “What ever happened to the (Y/N) who would run extra laps for fun?”

You know Alessia’s thinking of you dressed Carolina blue, sprinting up and down the pitch after practice ends, wanting to get in extra reps to keep your fitness up. It’s a fond memory, the player you were when you were younger, but you shudder, thinking of how it was really just a ploy to get Alessia to give you a backrub when you got home, the forward always quick to crumble to your sad eyes and exaggerated whines.

You pout. “She grew up.”

“Poor you,” she teases, pinching at your cheeks. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this much. 

You and Alessia have fallen into a good routine since you both joined Arsenal. There was no awkward tension around the two of you, no weird ‘I’m on the same team as my ex’ drama. If anything, there’s more ‘annoying years-in-the-making inside jokes’ shenanigans that you’ve brought with you. It’s almost like no time has passed. 

Once in a while you catch yourself thinking about the what-ifs. What if you never broke up. What if Alessia wanted to give this another shot. But you’re more than happy to live in the now. You and Alessia are friends now. That’s not something you’re willing to give up just for a shot at what you once knew. 

Looking down at her empty cup, Alessia lets out a low groan. You sheepishly hand her your empty cup as well, sweetly asking for a refill. She grumbles under her breath but grabs your drink nonetheless. “Don’t miss me too much!” she hollers over her shoulder as she disappears into the crowd. 

You find yourself staring even long after she’s gone.

With nothing left to distract you, you turn your attention back down to your phone. It’s funny seeing all of the posts on social media by the fans. Giggling to yourself, you like a couple of them before your attention is quickly captured again when you feel a small nudge against your arm. You look up to see Lotte smiling back at you. 

Scooting over, you give her enough space to plop down next to you in the booth. 

“Whatcha been doing hiding away here all night?”

You shrug, easy smile floating to your lips. “Haven’t been hiding. Less and I’ve just been hanging out. Lots of things to catch up on.”

The mention of the blonde striker has Lotte frowning a bit. You watch as she seems to think through her words. “Are you and Less…” she starts cautiously, pausing to gather her thoughts once more. 

“Are me and Less what?” 

The brunette shrugs. “I dunno, back together? Working things out? You guys just… you seem close again.”

It’s your turn to pause. In all honesty you haven’t really been thinking about what you and Alessia have been doing. Yes, you spend a lot of your free time together, and yes, Alessia always seems to seek you out when you all go out with the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean anything, right? 

Right? 

You settle for a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. I think… I think we’re just seeing where things go.”

Lotte nods, the look of unease still on her face. “Just be careful, alright? I’m happy if things work out between you guys but just don’t forget the history the two of you have.”

Lotte’s words stick with you.

Even days later, when Alessia and you are taking a stroll towards a nearby farmer’s market.

You’re not thinking when her hand automatically slips into yours, hands freely swinging between the two of you. Alessia’s telling you a story you’re only half listening to, more caught in your head than the walk in front of you.

Spotting a booth with your favorite flowers, you head towards them. Only to be yanked back by a firm hand. 

Alessia doesn’t let go of your hand.

You pull again. 

You can hear an amused noise but Alessia still doesn’t let you go. 

“Lessi! Let me go see the flowers,” you whine. 

This time when you pull, she lets you go with a chuckle.

They’re beautiful. 

The purples, the blues, the pinks. You run your hands over them, marveling in all of the beauty. 

You must be looking for too long, because your heart lurches when you feel the familiar weight of an arm wrapping around your waist, Alessia’s head dropping to your shoulder. It’s habitual, the way your hand drops to rest on top of hers.

You can feel Alessia smile against the side of your head.

And it hits you then. 

This feels familiar. Too familiar. 

This feels right. Too right.

This feels like everything you’ve been missing. 

“Less?”

The blonde hums, eyes not moving as her fingers continue to trace shapes on your stomach.

You huff. It isn’t until you’re shuffling around, fully facing Alessia that her eyes drop to meet yours. She’s clearly not expecting it, mouth dropped into an ‘o’.

“Hi?”

“Alessia, do you want to date me?”

It’s almost comical, the way her eyes widen, mouth somehow dropping even wider.

When it becomes clear that Alessia is at a loss of words you run a hand down your face, effectively pushing the blonde away from you.

“Look, I get it if you think I’m just imagining things, and I’ll totally understand if you want some space if all of this is just in my head, but I can’t help but feel like these are dates, these little trips around London you’ve been taking me. I haven’t felt this ‘wined and dined’ since the two of us first started dating all those years ago.”

You pause, leaving plenty of time for Alessia to interject.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she swallows. 

You watch as Alessia clenches and unclenches her hands, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

Neither of you say anything as the seconds pass, ticking into minutes. 

Eventually, with her eyes trained to her feet, “Do you want them to be dates?” Alessia asks quietly. Timidly.

A little too timidly.

And that’s when you realize what this is.

What it’s been about this entire time.

Alessia’s afraid you don’t want her.

“You’re an idiot.”

Fisting a hand into her shirt, you yank Alessia towards you. Her eyes widen just as your lips meet, hands floundering about until they rest on your waist.

When you break away, you make sure to memorize the look on her face. Eyes closed, peaceful lit to her face, it’s something you want to ingrain in your memory and never forget.

When Alessia’s eyes flutter open you give her a soft smile.

“I’m always going to want you,” you murmur, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 

You duck down, pressing your face into the crook of her neck as her arms automatically wrap around your back.

“I’d spend a lifetime trying to get over you, just to get to spend a single second as yours.”

You feel more than hear Alessia’s shaky breath in, arms tightening just a fraction around you. 

“I don’t want to ever get over you.” Your heart skips a beat at her confession. Her words are paired with a kiss on your hairline, signaling what you know is the end of this limbo, the beginning of your story starting anew.

No, things didn’t work out the first time.

But you aren’t stranded on opposite coasts this time. You aren’t leaving Alessia to start your professional career elsewhere. Alessia isn’t leaving you to go back home. 

You’re both in England. You’re both on the same team. 

Maybe this time things will work out. 

Because you love Alessia and she loves you. And that’s all you really need to know.