#to eastern europeans during that time

[storywestistrash]

i am actually so tired of the way westerners treat eastern europeans

[mourningmaybells]

i’m still looking up historical information, but another way dracula (the threatening immigrant) and van helsing (the non-threatening immigrant) mirror each other is that dracula famously arrives by boat which is associated with undocumented immigrants, and van helsing uses the trains to go from amsterdam to england and vice versa

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )

Word count: 1.8k

The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.

You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water. 

Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck. 

He could be such a gentleman sometimes. 

A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear. 

There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.

But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?

━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear? 

Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.

The Colonel. 

Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission. 

Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates. 

You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home. 

As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry. 

Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.

━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest. 

━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]

━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor. 

━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want? 

He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes? 

A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.

━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking. 

━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in. 

The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.

As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum. 

━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]

Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?

Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager. 

━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?

You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.

━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace. 

Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward. 

━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?

You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed? 

“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it. 

You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all. 

Fuck.

But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.

You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like: 

━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!] 

Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse. 

If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no. 

You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.

König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable? 

Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family. 

Until now.

His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?

The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.

━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.

Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion. 

━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken. 

━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken. 

There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up. 

━ Y/C, we’re moving. 

The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns. 

━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home. 

Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood. 

Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?

━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.

But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.

A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪

[vestaignis]

Деттифосс самый мощный водопад Исландии и Европы, его называют «европейской Ниагарой».При ширине около 100 метров этот водопад низвергается с высоты в 44 метра. Во время паводков количество воды в водопаде может вырости в 3-4 раза и в пиковые моменты составляет до 600 м3/секунду! Кстати, в переводе с исландского Деттифосс значит Бурлящий водопад, гул его слышен на многие мили вокруг.

Водопад находится в северо-восточной части острова, в Национальном парке Исландии Йёкульсаурглювур и расположенн на крупной реке Йёкюльсау-ау-Фьёдлюм. Ледниковое питание реки Йёкюльсау-ау-��ьёдлюм обуславливает не совсем обычный для исландских рек буро-коричневый цвет воды, срывающейся с уступов Деттифосс. Путь к живописному творению природы лежит сквозь пустынную местность, покрытую множеством дюн черного песка.Единственным исключением является зеленый оазис на склоне холма на западном берегу, куда попадают брызги от водопада, увлажняя почву. Однако на восточном берегу совершенно иная картина. При определенном направлении ветра вы можете промокнуть до нитки от брызг. Из-за густого облака брызг дно водопада не просматривается, однако хорошо видны потрясающие базальтовые колонны, которые встречаются на всем пути с обеих сторон реки.

Однако не только своей мощью и суровой красотой известен водопад Деттифосс, но и своим участием в кинематографе - именно этот водопад "сыграл" роль в фильме Ридли Скотта "Прометей". По версии Скотта именно тут зародилась жизнь на Земле.

Dettifoss is the most powerful waterfall in Iceland and Europe, it is called the “European Niagara”. With a width of about 100 meters, this waterfall falls from a height of 44 meters. During floods, the amount of water in the waterfall can increase 3-4 times and at peak moments it reaches up to 600 m3/second! By the way, in Icelandic Dettifoss means Raging Waterfall; its roar can be heard for many miles around.

The waterfall is located in the northeastern part of the island, in the Jökulsárglúvur National Park of Iceland and is located on the large river Jökulsau au Fjödlum. The glacial feeding of the Jökulsau au Fjödlum River causes the brown-brown color of the water falling from the Dettifoss ledges, which is unusual for Icelandic rivers. The path to the picturesque creation of nature lies through a desert area covered with many dunes of black sand. The only exception is a green oasis on the hillside on the western shore, where spray from a waterfall falls, moistening the soil. However, on the eastern shore the picture is completely different. In certain wind directions, you can get wet to the skin from the spray. Due to the thick cloud of spray, the bottom of the waterfall is not visible, but the stunning basalt columns that occur along the entire path on both sides of the river are clearly visible.

However, the Dettifoss waterfall is known not only for its power and harsh beauty, but also for its participation in cinema - it was this waterfall that “played” a role in Ridley Scott’s film “Prometheus”. According to Scott, this is where life on Earth originated.

Источник://t.me/roundtravel,/scandica.ru/iceland/sights1/vodopad_dettifoss_dettifoss/,//www.andreev.org/travel-photos/iceland-dettifoss . html,//www.tripadvisor.ru/Attraction_Review-g315845-d1912449-Reviews-Dettifoss_Waterfall-Lake_Myvatn_Northeast_Region.html, /scandica.ru/iceland/sights1/vodopad_dettifoss_dettifoss/,/vislandii.com/attractions/waterfall/100-dettifoss waterfall, //www.vodopads.ru / blog /vodopad_dettifoss_dettifoss/2012-10-26-33, //www.equatorial . by/content/vodopad-dettifoss-dettifoss,/priroda.club/vodopady/8358-vodopad-dettifoss-islandija-56-foto.html.

[sadclowncentral]

there has been some discussion on here that people should not call themselves central european, as that "doesn't exist, there is only the west and the (ex-soviet) east".

so here is the story of how my parents met. it's a long one snd it features a world war, the cold war and the iron curtain, but i promise it is a love story. here goes:

1936. my german grandfather lives in a small village in eastern pomerania, then germany, with his mother. my polish side of the family, part of an indigenious slavic minority, the kashubians, lives just six kilometers east across the border in poland.

1939. germany invades poland. with the front and the border moving east, my kashubian grandfather is incidentally born on german territory as a german citizen. he is the youngest of eleven - all his siblings are polish citizens.

1942. my german grandfather is drafted into the army and taken as a prisoner of war. the same year, my kashubian grandfather is murdered in a concentration camp for collusion against nazi germany.

1945. my german grandfather has returned from russia. the border has moved, west this time, and his old home is in poland now, and behind the iron curtain. he decides to stay in western germany.

1946. my kashubian great-grandmother, a widowed woman with eleven children, has lost her house during the war. she moves into an abandoned home in a now polish recovered territories.

1982. it's the height of the cold war. my german grandfather has not stopped wondering what has happened to his old home. with a sailing ship, he and my father make it to poland and to his old house. my kashubian grandfather, now married and father of seven children, opens the door. and in true kashubian hospitality, invites them to stay the night. my parents, both teenagers, and without a shared language, meet for the first time. and fall in love.

1987. my father is discharged from the west german army because of his frequent travels behind the iron curtain to visit his girlfriend. my mother gets a german passport issued without a citizen test as her father is technically german.

1996. the berlin wall has fallen, but more importantly, my parents are getting married in poland. their families got over the language barrier, and my grandfathers have gotten over their different sides in the war. the reception is in three languages - german, kashubian, and polish. in the house both my grandfathers grew up in.

a few years later, my brother and i are born. german- polish- kashubian. with two passports and three mother tongues. and then again. from one single house in germany- poland- recovered-territories- kashubia- pomerania.

so we just say we are central european.

[determinate-negation]

“This raises the question: if industrial production is necessary to meet decent-living standards today, then perhaps capitalism—notwithstanding its negative impact on social indicators over the past five hundred years—is necessary to develop the industrial capacity to meet these higher-order goals. This has been the dominant assumption in development economics for the past half century. But it does not withstand empirical scrutiny. For the majority of the world, capitalism has historically constrained, rather than enabled, technological development—and this dynamic remains a major problem today.

It has long been recognized by liberals and Marxists alike that the rise of capitalism in the core economies was associated with rapid industrial expansion, on a scale with no precedent under feudalism or other precapitalist class structures. What is less widely understood is that this very same system produced the opposite effect in the periphery and semi-periphery. Indeed, the forced integration of peripheral regions into the capitalist world-system during the period circa 1492 to 1914 was characterized by widespread deindustrialization and agrarianization, with countries compelled to specialize in agricultural and other primary commodities, often under “pre-modern” and ostensibly “feudal” conditions.

In Eastern Europe, for instance, the number of people living in cities declined by almost one-third during the seventeenth century, as the region became an agrarian serf-economy exporting cheap grain and timber to Western Europe. At the same time, Spanish and Portuguese colonizers were transforming the American continents into suppliers of precious metals and agricultural goods, with urban manufacturing suppressed by the state. When the capitalist world-system expanded into Africa in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, imports of British cloth and steel destroyed Indigenous textile production and iron smelting, while Africans were instead made to specialize in palm oil, peanuts, and other cheap cash crops produced with enslaved labor. India—once the great manufacturing hub of the world—suffered a similar fate after colonization by Britain in 1757. By 1840, British colonizers boasted that they had “succeeded in converting India from a manufacturing country into a country exporting raw produce.” Much the same story unfolded in China after it was forced to open its domestic economy to capitalist trade during the British invasion of 1839–42. According to historians, the influx of European textiles, soap, and other manufactured goods “destroyed rural handicraft industries in the villages, causing unemployment and hardship for the Chinese peasantry.”

The great deindustrialization of the periphery was achieved in part through policy interventions by the core states, such as through the imposition of colonial prohibitions on manufacturing and through “unequal treaties,” which were intended to destroy industrial competition from Southern producers, establish captive markets for Western industrial output, and position Southern economies as providers of cheap labor and resources. But these dynamics were also reinforced by structural features of profit-oriented markets. Capitalists only employ new technologies to the extent that it is profitable for them to do so. This can present an obstacle to economic development if there is little demand for domestic industrial production (due to low incomes, foreign competition, etc.), or if the costs of innovation are high.

Capitalists in the Global North overcame these problems because the state intervened extensively in the economy by setting high tariffs, providing public subsidies, assuming the costs of research and development, and ensuring adequate consumer demand through government spending. But in the Global South, where state support for industry was foreclosed by centuries of formal and informal colonialism, it has been more profitable for capitalists to export cheap agricultural goods than to invest in high-technology manufacturing. The profitability of new technologies also depends on the cost of labor. In the North, where wages are comparatively high, capitalists have historically found it profitable to employ labor-saving technologies. But in the peripheral economies, where wages have been heavily compressed, it has often been cheaper to use labor-intensive production techniques than to pay for expensive machinery.

Of course, the global division of labor has changed since the late nineteenth century. Many of the leading industries of that time, including textiles, steel, and assembly line processes, have now been outsourced to low-wage peripheral economies like India and China, while the core states have moved to innovation activities, high-technology aerospace and biotech engineering, information technology, and capital-intensive agriculture. Yet still the basic problem remains. Under neoliberal globalization (structural adjustment programs and WTO rules), governments in the periphery are generally precluded from using tariffs, subsidies, and other forms of industrial policy to achieve meaningful development and economic sovereignty, while labor market deregulation and global labor arbitrage have kept wages extremely low. In this context, the drive to maximize profit leads Southern capitalists and foreign investors to pour resources into relatively low-technology export sectors, at the expense of more modern lines of industry.

Moreover, for those parts of the periphery that occupy the lowest rungs in global commodity chains, production continues to be organized along so-called pre-modern lines, even under the new division of labor. In the Congo, for instance, workers are sent into dangerous mineshafts without any modern safety equipment, tunneling deep into the ground with nothing but shovels, often coerced at gunpoint by U.S.-backed militias, so that Microsoft and Apple can secure cheap coltan for their electronics devices. Pre-modern production processes predicated on the “technology” of labor coercion are also found in the cocoa plantations of Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire, where enslaved children labor in brutal conditions for corporations like Cadbury, or Colombia’s banana export sector, where a hyper-exploited peasantry is kept in line by a regime of rural terror and extrajudicial killings overseen by private death squads.

Uneven global development, including the endurance of ostensibly “feudal” relations of production, is not inevitable. It is an effect of capitalist dynamics. Capitalists in the periphery find it more profitable to employ cheap labor subject to conditions of slavery or other forms of coercion than they do to invest in modern industry.”

Capitalism, Global Poverty, and the Case for Democratic Socialism by Jason Hickle and Dylan Sullivan

[mariacallous]

Honey cake is a hallmark of Rosh Hashanah and the fall Jewish holidays  — Ashkenazi honey cake, that is. But did you know there’s a Sephardi cake traditionally served for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur break fast and during Sukkot? Like its Eastern European counterpart, tishpishti symbolizes wishes for a sweet new year and the fullness of life. The cake is also popular for Purim and adapted for Passover.

Semolina pastries and puddings have been made for centuries throughout the Mediterranean, North Africa and the Middle East. Tishpishti is traditionally made with fine semolina and soaked in a sweet syrup of sugar, honey or a mixture, but beyond these common elements, there are many variations in both the way tishpishti is made — such as nuts or no nuts, eggs or no eggs, flavored with lemon, orange or rose water — and even what it’s called according to different geographic and cultural roots. For example, in Egypt, it’s basboosah or baboussa, namora or namoura in Syria and shamali in Crete.

Tishpishti is perhaps the name most used and, as we know it today, the cake originated in Turkey. In the “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” Gil Marks explains that in Israel and for Jews from once-Ottoman Turkey, Greece and the Balkans, the name is probably a nonsense name from the Turkish “tez” (fast/quick) and “pişti” (plane/slope). Put together, it means “quickly done.” In Ladino it might also be called pispiti, tupishti and revani, which Joyce Goldstein in “Sephardic Flavors: Jewish Cooking of the Mediterranean” notes is named after a 16th century Turkish poet “who wrote about the delights of food.” 

Many tishpishti recipes use eggs, including ones that instruct you to whip the whites separate from the yolks, a Sephardi contribution to tishpishti. This recipe, however, is based on a very old traditional way of making cakes from a thick dough without eggs. My concession to modernity is adding baking powder and soda, both 19th century products, to lessen the density of the cake. Using ground almonds instead of walnuts will result in a lighter colored cake, which is traditional at Rosh Hashanah to symbolize a bright new year. Tishpishti is delicious on its own or served with a spoonful of yogurt, labneh or whipped cream and a cup of mint tea or strong Turkish coffee.

Notes:

It is best to make the syrup ahead of time so it has time to cool, although you can choose to make it while the cake bakes, then refrigerate it to cool more quickly. 

Tishpishti is best when left at room temperature for several hours or overnight so the syrup penetrates the cake. 

Store wrapped at room temperature for two days or a week in the refrigerator. The cake can be well-wrapped and frozen for two months. Defrost and then refresh with some drizzles of warm syrup. 

[manda-kat]

I watch a lot of travel videos and one thing I've noticed is that there are a lot of disclaimers put on historical American locations that almost never appear on videos for other places.

Like, a video about Jamestown, or Williamsburg or any American history museum/attraction always has a speil at the beginning about the atrocities done during that time specifically by the American people who lived there. But there never seem to be any disclaimers for videos about Middle Eastern historical sites. Or Chinese sites. Korean, Japanese, Indian, Mexican, Polynesian, South American- sometimes European cultures get these, but often times even if past atrocities are mentioned, they're usually in passing and never as a big disclaimer at the start of the video, begging the viewers not to see the innocent blogger as a secret bigot.

American history is rich and beautiful. We have a lot of depth, innovation and countless brilliant souls in our past. So do all countries! But somehow when we have the same evils haunting our past as every other people group, we (and England) are blamed for it in its entirety.

We should never ignore the negative parts of our past, but it should be assumed by everyone involved that if you're watching a video where someone visits a historical park, the historical people who once lived there were probably up to shady stuff. Just like all people have done thoughought all history and are still doing today.

American's (or white Americans specifically) aren't a special brand of evil that you have to apologize for visiting the cultural sites of.

[djuvlipen]

Hey

I know there are many, many things happening in the world right now and there is only so much time, energy and money people can invest in social justice but with the advance of fascism in Europe - 84 fascists from 12 different countries were elected to the European Parliament this year - and with the news of a 15yo Romani teenager dying during a police confrontation in England last week, I have compiled a list of different human rights organizations dedicated to helping Romani people in Europe.

Please donate if you can!

💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️

🇪🇺 Roma Education Fund

The Roma Education Fund (REF) is an international foundation established in 2005 and dedicated to closing the gap in educational outcomes between Roma and non-Roma. With an active and growing network of representative offices across Central, Eastern, South Eastern Europe and Turkey, REF provides grants and scholarships to entities and individuals who share its belief in quality, inclusive education and desegregated schools and classrooms. The Roma Education Fund is active in countries such as: Hungary, Montenegro, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Switzerland, Albania, Croatia, North Macedonia, Turkey, Bulgaria, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Kosovo and Russia.

🇪🇺 European Roma Grassroots Organization (ERGO)

ERGO Network mobilizes and connects grassroots, national and international organisations and individuals who share a set of core values to create the courage, capacity and  opportunities to combat antigypsyism and Roma poverty; strengthen Roma civil society participation in decision-making at grassroots, national and European level and commit governments and European institutions to effective social inclusion and anti-discrimination policies, standards and funds for Roma.

🇪🇺 European Roma Rights Center (ERRC)

The ERRC is the largest transnational Romani rights organization in Europe. They provide judicial and financial help to Romani people facing poverty, police brutality and racist violence all across Europe

🇷🇴 Resource Center for Roma Communities Foundation (RCRC)

The operational activity of RCRC includes training programs, consultancy and comprehensive community development in Roma communities. The grantmaking activity of RCRC has involved managing grants and scholarship programs, including the administration of the European Union’s and EAA grants programs focused on health, vocational training, small infrastructure and income generating activities.

🇨🇿 Cesta Von

Cesta von (This Way Out) organization is based in Slovakia. Their Omama program works with the very youngest Romani children in particular. Their aim is a big and important one – extricating the inhabitants of the segregated settlements from the vicious circle of intergenerational poverty. The program targets the development of the intellect, motor skills and social skills in an attempt to increase the chances of children from socially excluded localities at living better adult lives. One of the main conditions for choosing the Omamas is that they must be Romani women who know the excluded locality well (source).

🇪🇸 La Fundación Secretariado Gitano (FSG)

The FSG develops all kinds of actions that contribute to achieving the full citizenship of Roma persons, improving their living conditions, promoting equal treatment and preventing all forms of discrimination, as well as promoting the recognition of the cultural identity of the Roma community.

🇪🇸 La Asociación Nacional Presencia Gitana

Presencia Gitana is dedicated to confronting and correcting negative opinions about Spanish Romani people. They promote all kinds of initiatives and projects to ensure that Spanish Romani people's basic needs and fundamental rights are met and guaranteed, work to promoting Romani culture and advocate for the providing of historical reparation for Spanish Romani people.

🇫🇷 ANGVC

The ANGVC (association nationale gens du voyage citoyens) is a French Romani-led organization whose goal is to fight anti-Romani racism and to improve the living conditions of French Romani people and travellers. They provide judicial help to Romani people victims of environmental racism and police brutality, organize workshops to raise awareness about anti-Romani racism and are now leading a project dedicated to educate people about the Romani genocide, which still hasn't been recognized by France.

🇬🇧 Roma Support Group

The Roma Support Group offers free advice for Roma communities on financial inclusion, debt, welfare benefits and housing. They promote Romani arts and culture, fight for the improvement of mental health within the Romani community and helps Romani people victims of racism.

🇬🇧 Romano Lav

Romano Lav is a grassroots Roma community organisation based in Govanhill, Glasgow. They organize youth-led events including artistic and cultural performances, workshops, exhibitions and educational events.

🇬🇧 Luton Roma Trust

The Luton Roma Trust provides advice to British Romani people about housing, employment and education, helps them find jobs and accessing healthcare.

💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️💚🦔💙❤️

[prokopetz]

I invoke you in your aspect as possessor of arcane comics knowledge.

A friend told me about an old series called Count Duckula ( https://imgur.com/gallery/count-duckula-celebrity-no-21-eAXNJB9 ). The titular protagonist has a teleporting castle. My friend and I are both curious about where it came from. We know that Dracula's abode in Castlevania can teleport, and my friend has some vague recollection about another teleporting vampire castle from Eastern European myth, but feel far from certain that those fed directly into Count Duckula. Do you have any pertinent knowledge, any guess as to a root of the concept or common source? We'd be delighted if you shared any.

Hm. It's tough to say which is the earlier example. The Castlevania series debuted in 1986, while Duckula's teleporting castle first appears in his self-titled spinoff series in 1988 (there's no mention of it in his earlier appearances in Danger Mouse); however, Dracula's castle in Castlevania didn't initially teleport – it just magically appeared in a new location each time he was resurrected, and was immobile thereafter. The idea of Dracula using his castle as a means of transportation didn't become formalised as part of the franchise's lore until later on.

Of course, vampires or vampire-like villains with magically appearing and/or teleporting castles show up in a lot of 1980s media. I strongly suspect that patient zero for the trope's popularisation during that period is the 1983 Star Wars pastiche Krull – though Krull is so blatantly derivative that it's very unlikely it originated the idea, either. I'm not sure where Krull would have gotten it, but if you wanted to chase down how the vampire-with-a-teleporting-castle trope entered into the lexicon of contemporary popular media, that's where I'd start.

[mathmodder]

Get Wild Mod by MathModder (In Progress)

What you need to know:

This mod introduces wild animals into your game map that spawn naturally in beetle spawners. It includes birds, small mammals, amphibians, more insects and reptiles in nature zones. Birds can fly and land in random locations and ground animals can be seen walking around the map.

You can choose ONE from various versions that best suit your world. Select the version that spawns specific animals suitable for your World's location.

Here's a list of potential versions that will be included in the mod:

All Wildlife (City World)*

All Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

American Wildlife (City World)*

American Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

European Wildlife (City World)*

European Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

African Wildlife (City World)*

African Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

Eastern Wildlife (City World)*

Eastern Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

*Versions for cities will have additional specific effects that help create a more beautiful environment for your city, such as planes in the sky, fireworks, sunshine rays during the day, and sky lanterns for the All Wildlife and Eastern Wildlife version. **Versions for Medieval/Country towns will feature additional specific effects to enhance the beauty of your world, including hot air balloons in the sky, sunshine rays during the day, and more.

These additional effects mentioned above will appear rarely and randomly in your world.

Can I place individual animals in specific locations, such as on rocks or tables?

In a future update after launch, this function will be added, for now they will only spawn where there is a beetle spawner. Ground animals on the ground and birds in the air.

Is the mod heavy to run?

Within the game I am optimizing it so that a small number of animals spawn at the same time and only spawn at a maximum distance of 500 meters from the player's camera.

How many files will there be?

Because there are many animals and specific animations for each one, the files will be heavy, will be a maximum of 2 to 3 files. In tests in my game with 150 other mods from other creators, I didn't see any loss of performance due to the optimization I'm doing within the game.

It is worth mentioning that some files will need to be placed in the Overrides folder and others in the Packages folder, they will all be specified at launch.

Is this mod compatible with other effect mods?

Yes, it will be compatible.

Bugs:

Depending on the location, there may be some bugs such as birds landing in the air or animals walking a little above the ground, this is due to calculation problems on certain game surfaces and physics, whether hills or mountains, but over time I will update and see What can I do to reduce this. In this case I depend on the engine the game has and whether it is possible to correct certain errors.

Release date:

Between January and February 2024 (It is in the testing phase)

Here is the list of animals that will be included in the mod:

American Eagle Bird

Anteater

Artic Tern

Aphids

Bat

Beaver

Bees

Black Bird

Black Egret

Black Fox

Black Goose

Black Rat

Blue Bird

Blue Frog

Blue Green Parrot Bird

Blue Jay

Blue Lizard

Blue Parakeet

Blue Macaw

Booby Bird

Brown Bird

Brown Bunny

Brown Egret

Brown Hen

Brown Monkey

Brown Owl Bird

Brown Pelican Bird

Brown Squirrel

Bullfinch Bird

Bullfrog

Butterflies (many colors)

Buzzard Bird

Canary

Capercaillie Female Bird

Capercaillie Male Bird

Canadian Goose

Cardinal

Carcara Bird

Charadriidae

Chimp

Chimpmunk

Chukar partridge

Condor Bird

Cormorant

Coyote

Crow

Cicada

Cockroach

Dart Frog

Dove Bird

Dragonfly

Egret

European Goldfinch

Falcon

Female Peacock Bird

Flamingo Bird

Fox

Fireflies

Golden Monkey

Golden Pheasant

Goldfinch

Gray Frog

Gray Lizard

Gray Parrot Bird

Gray Partridge

Green Bird

Green Frog

Green Lizard

Green Parakeet

Green Parrot Bird

Harlequin Duck

Hawk

Heron Bird

Hoopoe Bird

Horn Owl Bird

Humming Bird

Humming Bird Loop

Jack Rabbit

Kinkajou

Komodo Dragon

Ladybug

Lilac-breasted Roller

Little Red Parrot

Little Yellow Bird

Little Yellow Parrot

Magpie

Mallard Bird

Marmot

Marten

Male Peacock Bird

Mole

Multicolor Bird

Nude Rat

Orange Bird

Orange Fox

Orange Frog

Owl

Pangolin

Pheasant

Pink Cockatoo

Piper Bird

Possum

Pigeon

Quero-Quero Bird

Raccoon

Raven

Red-Eyed

Red Fox

Red Frog

Red Head White Cardeal

Red Lizard

Red Panda

Red Macaw

Red-crowned Crane

Rooster

Scissor White Bird

Sea Parrot Bird

Seagull

Silver Pigeon

Skunk

Snake

Sparrow

Spiny Lizard

Stork

Striped Lizard

Swallow Bird

Toco Toucan

Tortoise

Vulture Bird

White Bunny

White Cockatoo Bird

White Diving Bird

White Fox

White Goose

White Hen

White Monkey

White Owl

White Pelican Bird

White Piper Bird

White Rat

White Squirrel

White Swan

Wild Rabbit

Woodpecker

Yellow Lizard

Yellow Parakeet

Yellow Pelican Bird

Yellow Toucan

Want to support? Be a Patreon and get Early Access! Math Modder | The Sims 3 Mods and MO-MO-MORE! | Patreon

If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I will add them to this post!

[edenfenixblogs]

I don’t think most non-Jews understand how disappointed we are in the left right now. How completely abandoned we’ve become. How our contributions to progress for other groups have been erased or disavowed or hidden. How the actual tangible things that Jews have contributed to black rights and civil rights are being ignored. How we’re being told we contribute and have contributed nothing.

How we are being told that the world has been kind to us when it never has. As if my mom didn’t grow up getting called a Kike and getting beat up for being Jewish. How I thought I had friends until I caught them saying “xyz was beautiful until Jews showed up.” How people told me I was pretty “for a Jew.” How I grew up hearing stories about bombs being set off in Israel in buses and markets. How I couldn’t even go two weeks without hearing that and how nobody cared and somehow, every time that happened, the whole world became more hostile to me for some reason.

I just don’t understand. I don’t understand what leftists are doing. Or why. I hate that I have to say—of course, I support a free and self determined Palestine (which I truly do)—in order for you to decide I’m worthy of care and support.

We showed up for you. All of you. And the entire movement is abandoning us at best or targeting us at worst. Celebrating our deaths. Saying we deserved it. How are we supposed to trust you ever again? How are we supposed to feel safe ever again?

A very few select people who are in my life have taken the chance to actually learn about and dismantle their own unconscious antisemitism during this time. And I’m eternally grateful for them. But most people haven’t reached out at all. Most people are still sharing hateful things that could get me hurt and they don’t care. Most people Reblogging my posts are still Jews. Because we are alone. And it sucks. You need to be as loud about antisemitism as you are about Palestine or you’re an antisemite (unless you’re Arab/Muslim/Palestinian—I totally get that these groups are also doing damage control in their own communities just like Jews are).

But we are all in tremendous pain right now.

This moment will pass. And when it does, I will remember how many people let me down. I will remember that when I needed support more than I’ve ever needed it in my life, people fucking vanished. They pretended violence against my people wasn’t happening. They ignored and rewrote the history of Israel to suit their own narratives.

You don’t know what it feels like to be hated this much for opposite things. PoC hate us for being too white. White supremacists hate us for not being white enough. Europeans hate us for being middle eastern. Middle easterners hate us for being western/European. Everyone hates us for being settlers but continually kicks us out of their countries so that we have to settle somewhere else.

I saw a post going around from a Black person who said that the reason he and his fellow black activists go protest for Palestinians instead of fighting antisemitism (as if it’s a binary, which it’s not) is that Jews don’t show up. Muslims and Palestinians do. And honestly? Fuck that guy. Heather Heyer died standing shoulder to shoulder against racism in 2017. [CORRECTION: When I first wrote this post I was under the impression that Heather Heyer was Jewish. I want to correct to avoid spreading misinfo. She was just the first (and incorrect) Jewish civil rights activist I thought of. However there are plenty of other actual Jewish civil rights activists to choose from. If you have reblogged this post from me, please feel free to add a link to the permalink version of this post with my correction to your reblog.]I have devoted substantial time and effort and money that I don’t even get paid a lot of because I don’t get paid a living wage. I have continually reached out to PoC people in my life of all religions to ask how they are doing and what I could be doing to help more—both for them personally and how they would best like me to help their community. I have elevated their voices at every opportunity. And not one person I checked in with has done the same for me or for my community.

And it’s bone chilling. It’s awful. And it’s even worse knowing that when it’s over, people will want to go back to normal. They won’t apologize. They won’t self reflect. They’ll just live their lives, maybe a little more aware of how much they hate us and completely indifferent to the harm they’ve caused us. How disposable they made us feel. And the thing is…it’s not hard for you to know. You just have to ask.

Too many people are cowards. Too many people care about looking good than actually learning something or making the world better. And to those people: you should be ashamed of yourself.

I don’t have any hate in my heart. Truly. Not a drop for any group of people. But I have a tremendous lack of trust that anyone would actually lift a finger to keep me safe.

[ayin-me-yesh]

I'm not going to reblog the post, but I am once again going to fight people who use the Roman period as the evidence that all Jews, in modern times, are colonised people and Indigenous to Palestine

like, ok... Jews established kingdoms in Palestine as far back as the Bronze Age. the kingdom of Judah was then crushed by the Neo-Babylonian Exile, and many Jews were brought eastward in the Babylonian exile.

the conquest of Alexander the Great allowed a new kingdom, of Judea, to be established with its capital in Jerusalem. but not all Jews returned from the east, and Jews under Hellenistic rule also spread westward into Hellenized Egypt and northward into the Balkans. this was the situation when Rome conquered the Judean kingdom.

during the Roman period, Jews spread further into North Africa and Europe, establishing communities throughout the Roman Empire. when Judea was eventually crushed by the Romans and its citizens expelled, there was already an extant international Jewish community. the eastern community I mentioned from the Babylonian captivity had already existed for 500 years.

when Jews were expelled from Judea, many also eventually returned. a major community was almost immediately established in Tiberias, for instance. Jews would even resettle in Jerusalem. the Jerusalem Talmud was compiled a couple hundred years after the Roman expulsion.

so we start seeing these unique and widespread Jewish communities with their own minhagim (customs) and centuries to eventually millennia-long histories in Africa, Asia, and Europe. Jews were part of established pan-ethnic groups in these regions, so, for instance, there are Amazigh Jews, Arab Jews, Persian Jews, Russian Jews, French Jews, etc.

some of these communities in Africa and Asia would also go on to be colonised by European powers, such as France and the UK. colonisers like the French made distinctions between French Jews and native North African Jews.

Jews largely share common origins from the Near East, and there were Jewish kingdoms in Palestine whose histories are part of our religious identities, but we do not belong exclusively or even generally in Palestine more than wherever we found ourselves in the world. some of us are the colonised, but generally the displaced colonised of other parts of West or Central Asia or North Africa. others of us have been colonisers in those very same regions or elsewhere.

TL;DR Jews are diverse. we have a long history and geographically vast history that encompasses but is also much more than the Biblical narrative.

"Indigenous" in a political sense is not just being from somewhere, but having a relationship with a colonising power. and with that being said, Palestinians, the people being colonised by Israel, are Indigenous to Palestine.

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During your stop at the abandoned building a shootout with the enemy begins. You cross your paths with injured König who needs your help.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

A/N: I'm here to feed you all, because you asked so nicely. ♡ This part contains POV of the Reader and König's. Also, starring Gaz, he deserves more recognition! Y/C ━ Your Codename Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: dark humor, reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood & injuries, mentions of unalived bodies, sexual pictures taken, perv!König?

Word count: 3.2k oops

The night had fallen quickly. Faster than one might have thought. During the sunset, when the crickets hidden in the tall grass were the only sound, the manhunt began. 

Task Force 141 and KorTac had to stay for the night at the abandoned factory of sorts, near the forest bordering the village and Austrian mountains – a fortress with many rooms, staircases, exits.

You were slowly getting ready for the confrontation with the terrorist group, the one you’ve been “tracking” for the last couple of days. You sat on the second floor, cleaning your M4 rifle while listening to another story of Gaz. Some of the KorTac soldiers were also following the Britishman's captivating telltales. It was then when you heard the first report of strangers passing by through the radio. Then you heard the shooting. 

Everything happened quickly, the situation was getting worse and progressing too fast. How could they sneak up on you like that? The enemy came to you first, this shouldn't have happened.

You stuck to Gaz as you gathered your weapons and began moving towards the staircase. The sounds of gunshots filled the building and the ground surrounding it. Your mind had to stay highly alert, focused on a few simple tasks – push forward, leave the factory and get to the cars. It seemed like there were too many enemy’s forces. 

Well, at least that's what you thought, so it was hard to estimate the numbers.

It wasn’t possible to count the time that had passed since you gathered your rifle and followed Gaz’s lead. With his help and the Captain's instructions you managed to get to the ground floor, two of KorTac soldiers joined you on the way.

Three bodies lay limp in a puddle of blood underneath them, corpse’s hand gripping their rifles tightly. You took a quick look at their vests, or rather lack of them, and only then you were sure.

━ He hired mercenaries. ━ You stated quietly to your companion, having in mind the man liable for the terrorist group, as Kyle carefully peeked through the closest corner. 

━ Cannon fodder. 

His harsh answer was followed by a dead silence. Even the crickets went quiet as something loomed in the air. 

━ Gaz, Y/C, still on the way? ━ Ghost’s voice called out for the two of you through the radio. 

━ Almost there, sir. ━ Dark skinned sergeant stated, having an eye on the meeting point ahead of him. 

Gaz would take the right side of the van, two KorTac soldiers would worry about the left, while you had an eye on your backs. Seemed easy, seemed to be a quick job. 

When all of you got closer to the vehicle, holding your weapons high and looking out for any danger, something rolled down on the ground. Almost like a metal bin got under the car’s chassis. 

━ Grenade! 

There was too little time to react. Your legs pushed off the ground with all of their strength, your body directed at the building. However, you weren’t fast enough. So were not your companions.

Explosion illuminated the area and the fire consumed the military van in its flames. The recoil threw you a few meters away from the place of outbreak, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The squeak. 

That fucking squeak. 

The agonizing sound was probably the only noise you could hear at the moment as you saw the tongues of fire dancing in the corner of your eye. Right then, your body was reacting and operating on its own. 

Some barely palpable thuds made you realize you lied with your cheek in the gravel and dirt. 

You didn’t know exactly when you grabbed the M4 into both hands or when you stood up on your shaking legs, slowly heading inside the building again. You cursed in your native language, when your head hurt like it would explode on its own. 

There was an exchange of bullets somewhere near you, but still, dazed you couldn’t precisely determine – where and how close.  You continued to run towards the building bent in half. 

Then suddenly you felt a strong grip tightening around your vest’s strap on the shoulder. A pull so powerful that made you turn around and fall onto the brick wall behind your back. 

━ Gaz? ━ You heard the ringing of your own voice, echoing inside of your eardrums. Wait, did you even say his name out loud? Maybe you just imagined you did?

When your back clung tightly against the cold wall (as much as it could, due to your gear), you tried to take a deep breath in. 

First, then the second one. A cold, night breeze filled your nose. Only then you felt like you finally could think clearly again. 

━ Stay close. We’re moving. ━ The strong accent helped you realize it was König who took you out of the ambush. Now that you knew that, everything made sense – the force he pulled you with? Yeah, the Austrian colonel was like a wild bear.  

Quickly you checked your rifle and reloaded it. Your head nodded towards the colonel and he began clearing the way to the nearby staircase. You were going up again, side by side with an Austrian soldier. Well, that probably wasn’t the image of you that your grandparents had in mind. 

You were supporting him from his behind, constantly checking the back. The adrenaline from the explosion made you feel painful tension in each limb. It felt like muscle sores after a rough day at the gym. Or sparring session with Ghost.

There was no option to go back and search for Gaz or two KorTac soldiers. If they survived the explosion, they probably escaped into the forest and were fine. Right?

With each powerful yet quiet step he took, another enemy’s soldier got terminated. With your help König cleared the pathway and led the two of you into a more secluded area. A room, your hideout.

You pushed some old, wooden furniture resembling a cabinet over the doors, so no one uninvited entered. You and the colonel had bored up to wait for the reinforcements. The hooded soldier took a peek through the cracked window as you squeezed the radio’s button.

━ Bravo 0-7, do you copy? 

Thankfully the silence didn’t last long.

━ Y/C ━ Ghost spoke through the radio. Only you knew that he was in distress, because of his voice. Him and Price probably heard the blast from the other part of the building. ━ Fuckin’ Christ, what was that?

━ They blew up the car. Gaz and I got separated near the tree line, I don’t know where he is. ━ You explained as simply as possible. Eventually your eyes noticed the drops of blood on the old floor. It was fresh. Were you bleeding? 

━ Where are you? 

Your boyfriend’s voice ripped you out of the deep thoughts. And at that point you understood that it wasn’t you, who was bleeding. 

━ In the left wing, second floor. Doors locked. Colonel König saved me from the fire. He’s with me.

Austrian man thanked the fucking heavens he had his face covered by the dark hood. Because the moment you called out his name, his heart skipped a beat. Your pretty eyes under the long eyelashes were locked on him. 

━ Stay there until we arrive. Over and out. 

When Ghost's voice vanished into thin air, there was a moment of silence between the two of you. He could feel how warm it got in there. Because it was a hot, summer night, right? 

━ You’re bleeding ━ you acknowledged, pointing his left thigh. ━ It’s your happy day, colonel. You got stuck with a medic. Sit down and let me see. 

Oh, it was a happy day for König for more than the reason he came across a medic while in need.

Because he came across you. 

━ I don’t think it’s an emergency, schatz. 

━ Your pants are soaked with blood. Let me see. 

You put down the weapon and reached out to grab his. He obediently gave you his rifle and sat down near the wall, slowly sliding on its surface. When the emotions began to cool down, his mind began to race. How could he let that happen? How could he, the king, let the bullet of some mercenary damage him? 

You kneeled next to the colonel and placed the “first-aid” bag on the floor. At first you tried to take a look at his wound, but a gap the size of a bullet was just too small. 

━ I have to slightly incise the pants, I can’t see th–

━ Ja, it’s okay. 

König said in a single breath, doing everything in his power not to stare at you for too long. But it was impossible. The way your hands gently inspected the wounded area. The same palms which not so long ago were squeezing the M4 rifle until the knuckles turned white. The same fingers that were holding a child so cautiously a few hours ago. 

You grabbed the material of his beige pants and slightly tore the opening. 

Unknowingly you tilted your head to the side, assessing the situation. König now knew that he was right. Your touch was as gentle as he had imagined it to be.

━ Hm, I won’t lie, this doesn’t look good ━ you retraced your hands from his leg and began preparing the essential tools. ━ The bullet didn’t hit the artery or veins, but it’s stuck in your muscle. I have to take it out and stop the bleeding, sir. 

━ It’s alright, I’m in the good hands, ärztin.

━ I don’t know what that mean, sir. ━ You confessed, a polite smile twisting your dusted cheeks, when you heard unknown German word.

Did he make you blush or was he dreaming? If the colonel was a believer, he would swear to the God he saw you blushing. 

━ A doctor. You’ll learn more German during our… ━ now it was him, searching the right word ━ cooperation, would you like that? 

His blue eyes roamed over your expressions, changing during the seconds passing by. It was bold of him to ask, too fucking bold perhaps. But he had you within his reach, right under his nose. He couldn’t let you slip so easily. 

━ That would be useful, thank you. Now, brace yourself. Take a breath in.

With a pair of gloves you dipped your pointing finger into the wound and scooped the bullet out in an impressive timing.  

━ Scheiße! ━ Colonel cursed, clenching his teeth. During his military career he got shot, burned, bones broken, skin cut, hurt too many times to count. Nonetheless, it hurt like a bitch each time he got his wounds patched. 

━ I know, I’m sorry, sir. I’m almost finishing. 

You took a brand new packaging of gauze and unwrapped it. Swiftly, you inserted the sterile material into the shallow wound with your slender fingers, until the crimson liquid stopped pouring all over his thigh and crotch. 

━ Don’t apologize, schatz. You’re doing a good job here. 

It was a second, less perhaps, but you looked up at the colonel when he praised your work. And under that hood? He had the smuggest grin ever. 

Finally, you tapped the outer side of his thigh, asking him to slightly raise the limb, so you could wrap a bandage around it. You leaned over his lap, two of your hands brushing against his massive legs. 

The voices, the fucking voices, made of him a real disrupted man. 

König had this impossibly stupid idea of sticking his head out just to get shot, so you could patch him up. You would be his favorite nurse and caretaker. If you happened to find yourself in his arms, we would never let you go. 

━ All done. There’s no need to cut the leg off, sir. ━ You jokingly said, leaning back on your knees. The dark humor and sarcastic jokes were your favorite. 

His thigh was bandaged, the bleeding stopped, but he needed a stiching, which you could not perform in the middle of a shooting scene. The big man will survive until then. 

━ Oh, that’s a good news, doctor. Thank you. 

His bright eyes loomed over your figure – neatly sitting on your own knees, clean hands (as you took the bloodied gloves off) resting on the thighs, head facing him. A single strand of your hair that slipped from the braid was stuck to your slightly sweaty forehead.

━ Come here ━ he told you, curling his pointing and middle finger in your direction. The gesture itself meant he wanted you to come closer. So you did, barely narrowing your brows. ━ You have soot all over your face. ━ His giant palm reached your cheek and rubbed the dust and dirt away.

König was used to most of his colleges, if not all of them, being much smaller than him. But it was the size difference between you and him that had his stomach curling with excitement. 

━ Danke [ger.: thanks].

━ Bitte [ger.: please]. 

The moment you two shared was interrupted by the loud steps coming towards the room you’ve been hiding. Without second thoughts, you helped the big bear stand up and handed him a rifle. You quickly pointed at the door and you waited. 

You sucked a breath in. Hold. 

━ Y/C! 

━ Here, sir! ━ You stated, releasing the air with a loud sigh. 

The familiar voice of Captain Price eased the tension. There was no need to continue fighting. Both you and König lowered the weapons and the colonel moved the cabinet aside allowing the team to open the doors.

And there was a group of your saviors – Price and lieutenant Riley at the front. Few soldiers in dark suits followed behind them.

Captain of TF 141 moved aside to allow you to leave the small, secluded area. All of you gathered in the corridor, before leaving the building. 

━ Thanks for saving our girl. ━ Price said in a lower tone to the colonel. To the Austrian man who outstanded everyone else in the room.  

━ We’re a team on this one, aren’t we? 

König’s blue eyes met the cold, death stare of lieutenant Riley. It didn’t sit right with Britishman that he was alone with her. With his girl. Simon didn’t care about the context of the situation, he had a childish problem with the colonel of KorTac himself. It was about his attitude towards you.

Perhaps you didn’t notice that and if you did, you saw nothing bad in König’s behavior. But the lieutenant did and it gave him weird feelings. 

━ Is Gaz okay? ━ You asked Ghost full of concerns, because Kyle wasn’t present with the rest of the team. 

━ Slightly cooked, but he’ll be fine. 

“Shit” you thought. First, there was a little accident involving Soap and broken ribs and now poor, smoked Gaz. Your teammates hadn’t have much luck lately. 

Perhaps, if not König saving your ass, you’d be wounded badly too. 

━ Medevac took care of him ━ Price meddled between you and lieutenant, wanting all of you to gather up and move. ━ We’re headin’ back to regroup, those bastards are gettin’ on my nerves. Also, Laswell’s on the line, waitin’ for report. 

His statement was followed by a quick ‘yes, sir’ and the group of survivors moved through the now secured area. König talked with one of his sergeants, trying to assess how many people he lost that day. 

Ghost was right behind you all this time, almost like a shadow you cast yourself. But you loved your grumpy shadow with your whole heart. 

Without any more issues you got to the untouched by the gunfire cars and left the abandoned factory behind. You took the last glimpse at the building and the lifeless bodies laying around the area through the vehicle’s window. 

It was ironic, as a medic you were supposed to save lives, not to end them. And yet, you were surrounded by bones and corpses. 

When you came back to the base – a part of the building KorTac company lent to Task Force 141, most of you were dismissed to get some rest before the departure at noon. But not the colonel of KorTac.

The Austrian man visited the doctor who stitched his wound up. Medic praised how well the bleeding was stopped, but König wasn’t surprised at all – he saw how skillful your hands were. 

Only if he could feel them on his skin again. Such delicate fingertips sneaking under his shirt, running over his muscles and old scars. But for now, it was only his imagination giving him the wrong ideas. 

You were taken, ja? It was wrong to want you for himself. 

After the stitching, he had to fill out some documents for his superiors – those on a computer and on paper. It wasn’t much, but it took around an hour or hour and a half. When he was finally done, König walked through the empty hallways towards his own quarters.

He locked the room from the inside and neatly put his combat shoes near the entrance. At least he could have some rest. Or so he thought. 

His phone’s screen illuminated the dark room as a notification popped up. The number was unknown. But the moment König tapped with his finger to read the message, he instantly knew who it was from.

His stomach dropped and his jaw slightly opened. The message was a picture with a signature saying “see, how well she’s taken care of?”. 

The photo was a visual of your bare upper half pressed against the masculine torso in the way that covered most of your breasts. Your hand was splayed over Ghost’s chest as his muscular arm hugged you from behind, pulling closer. In bed.

The frame did not catch the lieutenant's face at all, but it showed your flushed (or maybe rather: fucked out) face and eyes pressed shut. You still had the remains of dirt on your face, that’s why König  knew it’s a recent photo.

The Colonel could not help, but feel how his pants got uncomfortably tighter than before as he sat down on his bed. 

König felt the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears and he pulled the hem of his hood over his nose. He had to breathe. “Take a deep breath, soldat” he kept telling himself.

But his hand unbuckled the belt and trousers on its own and when his heavy cock sprung free from its confinement, König knew there was no way he could stop now. 

He began to pump his fist fast, biting on his lower lip, blue eyes glued to the dirty picture of you on his phone. The Austrian man would never get rid of that photo. Never.

Oh, how he wished it was you who helped him calm down after such a mission. 

Ghost could never imagine that his text message would bring the opposite outcome of what he intended – to scare the colonel away.

It only fed König's delusions. 

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A/N: Obviously the ending was heavily inspired by this imagine → | X |, although I planned it to be a picture before. I can't get enough of perv!König and protective!Ghost. OhmyLord~ Thank you for all your notes, reblogs and nice comments! It means a lot to me! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[kivino]

Platonic!Task Force 141 x Eastern European!Reader

Word Counter – ~1.9k

Summary – a compilation of headcanons about how reader’s Eastern European background would affect interactions with Task Force 141 during an undercover mission together.

Tags/Warnings – Gn!reader, Eastern European!reader (obviously), Platonic!TF141, fluff, mostly.

A/n – RUSSIANS DNI (this is a personal boundary, so I ask you to respect it, if you don’t like it just scroll past this post). Very self-indulgent. Just showing more love to my fellow Eastern European readers. Since it is mostly based on my own experience growing up as a Ukrainian, I’m sorry if certain things don’t resonate with you! This whole thing was made for fun and fun only.

So, let’s assume our beloved Task Force needs to go undercover to get some information on Makarov and his merry band of goons. Obviously, they can’t do it without at least one team member, who is familiar with the way of living in Eastern Europe. So, naturally, Laswell introduces you to them – born and raised there, ready to help them and stop your sworn enemy from escalating an already pretty shitty situation.

“So, allow me to introduce your new team member for the duration of this mission” Laswell nods to the door when you walk in, saying your name and callsign, already catching some looks full of curiosity from Task Force 141.

First thing they noticed about you? Resting bitch face for days. Who needs a mask when you have a death stare that will give the heebie-jeebies to most if not all of your teammates? However, they feel even more taken aback when you suddenly greet them with a warm, welcoming smile and a firm handshake, not a trace of that sour expression on your face.

One would think that you’d spend hours preparing four of them for the mission by teaching them language, helping to memorize names and faces of contacts, Makarov’s trusted allies, and potential targets. Naturally, you did your job, but those precious hours were also spent with you standing next to a whiteboard, ranting about the politics and societal issues of your country, explaining certain national jokes, and teaching them swear words or poetry you studied at school. But hey, they’re not complaining (maybe a little).  

They were skeptical about this whole deal at first. However, there was a shared understanding between the four of them that they needed to do whatever it took to stop the spreading of Makarov’s influence and diminish his resources in other countries. With time, however, they’ve found things that made their life in a completely new environment a bit more enjoyable and interesting.

Soap would pick up on your native language the fastest out of the Task Force. Under all these jokes and goofiness Johnny’s a smart guy, inquisitive as hell too, which makes a pretty good mix. He’d try to write down how you pronounce things in his sketchbook, dedicating pages upon pages to making a small vocabulary of what you say, searching up the translations of words any chance he gets. Convinces himself that it just helps him to get more into his new way of life, and not at all because he likes seeing you all excited when he slips a word in your language somewhere in the conversation.

“So how do you say it?” he points to the sentence, messily scribbled on the page with the ballpoint pen he slipped from Gaz. There is a slight frown between your brows – the word looks unfamiliar, more like gibberish than something in your language. You can practically feel the gears in your head screech and come to a halt as you drill Soap’s handwriting with your eyes.

“Oh, wait. You made a mistake here. No wonder I have no idea what this is.” You quickly take the pen and scratch the right version of the word on the paper, while Johnny chuckles at your brutal honesty. He doesn’t say anything though. Some time passes and you’re already correcting other words he wrote down, explaining the right way to say them. And you can feel a pleasant warmth spread in your chest when you can see Soap’s utmost attention directed at you.

Johnny can’t help but feel that moments like these were somewhat of a way to bond for you two. He’d jokingly offer to give you some Scottish classes each time you playfully flick him on the forehead for a word he pronounced wrong. He never expected you to take him up on the offer until the five of you got stuck in a countryside safehouse and essentially had nothing to do while waiting.

On the topic of Eastern European countryside, Price is not an old man by any measure, man’s not even forty yet, but it would grow so massively on him that it’s concerning. When you finally got a good, reliable contact that gave you some useful information you had to lay low for some time in a safe house not far from one of many Makarov’s places where the next weapon deal would be held. And while you waited several days for his people to show up there, obviously almost all of you were bored out of your minds. Not Price though. The man went exploring. Of course, taking you with him (he only wanted company on his small journey through the cozy countryside, don’t blame him).

Soon enough, during your walk you two come across the abundance of berry bushes and fruit trees everywhere, and while you pick something to munch on from them constantly, Price only scolds you. You smirk in response, giving him a handful of ripe mulberries, your lips and fingers now a dark red color from the juice.  

“It’s going to rot if nobody eats it. People who plant these trees would rather someone enjoy them instead of fruits just falling on the ground, getting squished, and going to waste.” And Price takes note of that with a small smile. Soon enough the two of you find a spring the whole village uses, a willow standing tall beside it, providing shade for you two to rest, chat a bit, and cool yourself off with fresh water. The fact that there are not many people around also doesn’t miss him. It’s quiet and peaceful, Price finally feels like he has room to breathe with his whole chest.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this.” Price finally mutters, enjoying your simple, comforting presence, walking along the river shore, and hearing the distant sounds of a train passing through the village. You look at him with understanding in your eyes, as you see the tension in his shoulders finally slipping away. Your captain relaxes, which is a pleasant change of pace from the frown on his face that you got used to.  

All five of you had to live in the same apartment in an old panel building closer to the edge of town. Not the best place to live, but a good opportunity to blend in with the locals and find leads on Makarov’s criminal “friends”. More than once you’ve found yourself sitting together with Ghost on the balcony that creaked with each blow of the wind, in complete silence while he was smoking some cheap cigarettes that smelled more like burnt paper instead of tobacco.

“Can I join you?” Your voice is a quiet rasp, as you lean against the doorway, pushing the mosquito netting to the side. You couldn’t sleep. Not when the whole world will go down the drain if you fail your mission. Not when it’s been a month already and it felt like you were still right where you started.

“Knock yourself out” the man shrugs, patting the stool near him. You shuffle your bare feet on the newspapers that were laid out on the balcony floor, plopping down on the seat, your eyes immediately getting glued to the view, enjoying the breeze that seeped through the open window. You two sit in silence for so long, but it doesn’t feel awkward, quite on the contrary – weirdly calming and serene.

After that night these nightly smoke breaks became a sort of tradition for you two, a way to wind down after a long day. Ghost would nod towards the balcony, a silent invitation reserved only for you. Regardless of whether you’re a smoker or not, occasionally he would offer you a cigarette from his pack or a hit from the lit one. A gesture of camaraderie.

“Thought you’d be more talkative.” Ghost’s voice sounds gruff after the whole day working your asses off just to discover the lead that you had was absolute bullshit.

“And I thought you weren’t a type for small talk.” You grumble in return, just as annoyed about coming back to this dingy apartment with nothing.

“That I am” He lets out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray in his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.  

Kyle found himself liking your cooking above everything else. The way he would eat anything thrown together in a hurry by you was quite flattering. So soon enough you offered to teach him how to make some of your favorite national dishes, and he couldn’t say no to your offer. So, you decided to start easy – picking out the fresh ingredients. And where do you go to do that? Not a grocery store, no way in hell. The market filled with tons of people is the place you need. A lot cheaper than your usual supermarket too.

The number of times you got discounts for fruits and vegetables on the market from older women just for Gaz’s pretty eyes was insane. He would just blink at you with confusion written all over his face anytime you glanced at him with that smile and refused to explain why you spent a lot less money than expected on the fresh vegetables. At some point, Gaz even questioned his ability to count before you told him just not to worry about it since you got a “very special bargain”. And, obviously, Kyle was the one carrying the plastic bags filled to the brim with fresh produce.  

“You know, your version of the dish is not half-bad,” You say, licking the spoon and giving Gaz a wide smile, which he immediately returns to you tenfold. Spending time like this with him was a pleasure. Each minute spent together made you loathe even thinking about the time when you’d have to part ways and you won’t be able to teach him your cultural cuisine like this anymore.

“Well, I have a great teacher to thank for that.” Gaz gives you a charming smile, so glad to finally have a distraction from the constant looming presence of Makarov in his thoughts. Right this moment he caught himself thinking that he was happy they had you here with them. It would be a lot harder if not for you supporting and guiding them through everything. He felt…thankful.

You’d bring the whole Task Force to different cafes that serve your country's most famous dishes, but Kyle would be the one to enjoy these outings the most, barely raising his eyes from the plate to participate in the conversation.

“Wow, are you in a hurry or something? The food won’t run away from you.” You chuckle, while Kyle ignores the odd saying coming from you and continues to eat with the huge appetite he had ever since this undercover mission started.

However, nothing lasts forever, so after finishing their business with you, getting all the information they needed, and “cleaning up the mess” Task Force 141 bids you farewell, returning to their usual duties. Saying goodbye is never easy, even if you knew each other just for several months you still got attached to them, just like they grew very fond of you (as much as some of them hated to admit that). But hey, they promised to visit you after they finish up with Makarov. They promised. And the four of them keep the promises they make.

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[unofficial-estonia]

It's no secret I re-use posts about June and March Deportations from 2016 and 2017. Year after year I reblog my own posts, and every year I see new people in tags saying that they had no idea these events took place. It is a sign of how much Eastern European history was painted with certain nation's brush.

During its time on tumblr, this blog has commemorated both the 75th and 80th anniversary of the June Deportation (and also the 75th anniversary of the March Deportations). Nothing has changed. There has been no acknowledgement, let alone an apology.

Instead, we witness the same thing happening again in Ukraine. It has been 83, 75 and no years since the regime to the East has deported citizens of their neighbouring countries all at once. There has been no acknowledgement or justice.