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gutsby · 11 months

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Nighthawk

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: After your lusty, short-lived relationship with a certain archer goes south, you decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off things. Daryl isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v, semi-public fucking on Daryl’s bike and hints of exhibitionism, generally rough, jealous sex. Age gap. Assplay. Angst.

One swig of the witches’ cocktail brew, a couple candy corn jell-o shots, and several spiked seltzers in, and you were starting to have serious doubts about your decision to come out tonight.

You clutched your stomach in one hand and Spencer’s arm in the other. The man guiding you inside tried his best to stifle a chuckle.

“You good?” he asked, nudging you with his elbow.

“Great,” you lied through your teeth.

The two of you were weaving through a swarm of partygoers in the entryway now. A sea of masked faces and shredded costumes came dimly into view, and with the sight of the first goblin ensemble drenched in fake blood, you wanted to vomit. You’d think a community of people plagued with nightmarish walkers year-round would lay off the theatrics when it came to Halloween attire as gruesome and grisly as that, but no. Spencer laughed and clapped the ghoul on the shoulder.

“Abraham, my man!” he greeted, “You’re a vision in red.”

Abraham lifted his mask just slightly to heave a sigh.

“It’s hotter’n H-E-double hockey sticks in this sick contraption. I’m sweatin’ like a hog,” he scowled.

When his eyes had adjusted to the light and he caught a glimpse of you, practically green in hue, his face softened considerably.

“You alright, darlin’? You look ready to blow chunks.”

He wasn’t far off the mark. Your stomach was busy doing somersaults up and down your body, and your brain was on the fritz with a new wave of nausea.

“Need a little water is all,” you managed meekly.

Your red-haired companion nodded and started off down the hallway without another word, beckoning you and Spencer to follow. You passed through the rest of the house with relative ease, amazed at how much Alexandria appeared to have grown and how many of those people were here, in Deanna’s house, for some seemingly inconsequential Halloween celebration. You barely recognized half the faces.

Spencer grinned as he sensed those same people were all turning their heads to follow your path. It was his first time parading Officer Friendly’s daughter around a public gathering—the first time you’d agreed to make it known you two were a tentative “thing” since the messy conclusion of your last relationship—and he was pleasantly surprised to see the effect you had on others.

Never mind the fact you were wearing a white lacy bodice, miniskirt, garter belt and stockings. Paired with the makeshift halo and wings, breasts practically bursting at the seams of your costume, it seemed you garnered more attention than you knew what to do with. You were hot, and you were his, Spencer thought with a superficial sense of pride. He squeezed your hand a little tighter and secretly hoped you’d cross paths with everyone he knew in town, so he’d get his chance to prove it.

The three of you descended the few short steps into the garage, where it seemed most of the music, booze, and bodies had congregated. A smoke machine supplied a thick white mist about the room, and alongside the near-blinding white and purple strobe lights, you had only to cling to Spencer’s side and hope he was still following Abraham.

Suddenly, a red solo cup was thrust in your direction, and you smiled at the sight of water spilling over its edges.

“You’re an angel,” you beamed, standing on tip-toes to place a quick kiss on Abraham’s cheek.

Abraham opened his mouth to speak but was presently cut off by a louder, shouting voice:

“Quit your loose-lipped lolly-gaggin’ with the lady and get your ass over here!”

Eugene was drunk. So very, very drunk. You could tell by the sound of his voice alone.

“Kiss my freckled ass,” Abraham yelled back, baring a toothy smile at his friend as he started to make his way over. Tugging you and Spencer to follow suit.

You shot a worried look over your shoulder.

“Spence, I don’t think I—”

“Sure you can, sweetheart,” Spencer interrupted, already eyeing the white table at the center of the room, “Just drink your water, and you’ll be good to go in no time.”

You doubted you would but downed the liquid nonetheless. With each step ahead, it seemed you were only growing sicker, so you got to guzzling the water fast and just hoped you would be able to keep it together.

Unsurprisingly, the folding table was already crowded with plastic cups. Eugene and Aaron making sloppy pours across the tops with cans of Busch Light cradled in their arms and cracking up at every spill they made. You quickly scanned the group for any unknown, or unwanted, faces and felt relieved not to see Rick, your father, or Daryl, his best friend—and your ex-boyfriend.

That last part your dad still didn’t know about. You wanted to keep it that way.

Today marked six months since you and Daryl had started your ill-conceived affair and two weeks since you decided to call it quits—you know, after one too many occasions where Rick had almost caught you two boning on the sofa and Daryl swore left and right he was going to tell your dad everything, while you begged him not to. You sensed any such admission would be guaranteed to destroy your dad and Daryl’s friendship, so you made him promise not to tell.

Begrudgingly, Daryl had agreed, but he’d hated every minute of it. You knew it was only a matter of time before the whole thing blew up in your face, and eventually, it did.

Fourteen days after you’d broken the man’s heart, here you were, waltzing into a party on Spencer Monroe’s arm. Six long months after you’d kept Daryl your dirty secret, you were flaunting this fabrication of a relationship for all to see.

You knew he’d hate you for it. You needed him to. There was just no other way you could shake his affections—and consequently protect his friendship with your father, along with any last shred of unity in your group—unless Daryl despised you. You knew no surer bet than Deanna’s shitbrained son to accomplish that goal.

At present, Spencer pressed a beer-sodden pair of lips to yours, and you almost recoiled.

“You in, baby?” Nodding toward the drinking game still being set up before you.

You shook your head no.

“She’s in!” Spencer announced anyway. Then, quietly, he leaned in closer to you and said, “Quit bein’ a pussy.”

Defying all logic, he kissed you again. Harder. You reluctantly accepted his tongue in your mouth and feigned a smile when the rest of your group cheered their drunken, congratulatory encouragement around you.

When you pulled apart, you felt you wanted to puke again, this time for reasons unrelated to the alcohol. Then, as if on cue, your eyes fell on a previously undetected member of your party.

Daryl stood across the table now, gaze locked on yours with a look that could’ve killed you twenty times over.

To your horror, Spencer extended his arm across the way to shake his hand. Clearly trying too hard to ingratiate himself with a man who looked like he wanted him dead.

“Daryl Dixon!” he cried, smiling too wide for anyone even half as happy.

Your archer shook his hand and hardly seemed to see him. Disinterest painted plain across his features.

Spencer turned to you next, and you wanted to melt into the floor as he gestured toward Daryl, stupidly:

“Have you two met—”

“Your girl’s too young to play.”

Daryl didn’t even deign to grace you with a look. Spencer forced a laugh.

“You kidding? She’s practically a pro at rage cage,” he returned, pinching you playfully.

Somehow, you sensed Daryl wanted Spencer to shut up even more than you did. The stoic, tight-lipped frown with a set of deadened eyes sealed it for you.

At length, he chanced a look in your direction, and his expression didn’t change.

“Doubt it,” Daryl scoffed, “Better let her sit this one out before her daddy comes and gets her.”

He sure had been singing a different tune when he’d had his cock crammed down your throat a couple weeks ago. Didn’t seem too worried about Rick’s intrusion back then, you thought to yourself.

Before Spencer could respond, the whole table shook beneath you. Eugene was beating his fists against the surface, sending solo cups shaking every which way.

“Hear ye, hear ye—”

“Someone please cut him off,” Rosita grumbled behind you.

“This is the last—I repeat last—chance any one of you gets to join this game of rage cage right here,” Eugene declared, the end of his sentence punctuated by a hiccup.

One of Deanna’s goodie bags went sliding across the table to you. You looked at Daryl, confused.

“This one’s already itchin’ to pull trig,” he said to Eugene, “She better sit this out.”

Daryl then nodded toward the plastic baggie as if to suggest you go ahead and puke, but you flung the thing back at him fast.

“I am not,” you countered defiantly.

“Prove it,” Spencer interjected, useless as a screen door on a submarine.

You turned and saw him smiling ear to ear, oblivious to just how badly you wanted to rock his shit.

“Leave her be, chucklefuck.” Abraham boomed overhead.

“Well now, nobody has to prove—” Eugene paused to hiccup again, “—anything.”

In spite of your friends’ words of support, you felt a twist in your stomach and a familiar heat rise to your cheeks. You were blushing, you knew it, but you simply couldn’t lose out in the face of such a challenge. No matter how drunk and disoriented you were, you wouldn’t let Daryl, much less Daryl and Spencer, make a fool of you now.

You glanced at the handle of Everclear in Maggie’s hands just as she started to mix herself a drink.

“I can take a pull to prove it,” you said, motioning to the bottle.

Everyone who’d heard your suggestion and spared a look to the bottom shelf bottle of liquor made a face. Though piss-poor spirits were certainly no anomaly for your group, it was hardly anyone’s inclination to start chugging stuff close to 190 proof—least of all for folks who didn’t have a death wish or a liver made of steel.

“Fuck no,” Maggie and Daryl said in unison.

“Hell yes,” Spencer supplied just as fast.

So the matter was settled.

Maggie eyed you with an incredulous look when you reached for the bottle but knew better than to stop you after you’d made up your mind. Before you knew it, you were holding the thing by the neck and struggling, at length, to ignore Rosita and Abraham’s pleas over your shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“You’d be better off swallowing a bag of dicks dipped in Drano, darlin’.”

Even Daryl was watching you with wide, desperate eyes, silently pleading with you not to take the pull.

You would’ve gladly relented then, dropped the handle back on the table and stepped away without another word, but there was something in your brain telling you you needed to see this through. Whether it was self-sabotage or simple, drunken stupidity, you couldn’t be sure, but you probably wouldn’t care much longer.

You tipped your head back and flooded your mouth full of the grain alcohol.

Shortly after, a spasm in your stomach told you, without a shadow of a doubt, you wouldn’t be swallowing any of it.

You dropped the bottle and bolted out the door. Before you’d made it one step outside, you were already spraying a cloud of Everclear in the air, along with every food content and bodily fluid residing in your stomach. You dropped to your hands and knees in the grass and hurled like you never had before.

You closed your eyes and dug your fingers deep into the dirt below, desperately wishing you weren't wearing white. Convulsed in your tight corset and hoped this process wouldn’t be too painful to endure.

When you felt someone’s hands start to gather your hair in a ponytail behind you, you surmised you might not be so lucky. You spit on the ground and tried to shake them off.

“Get fucked, Spence,” you hissed.

The hands didn’t flinch from your hair and instead pulled it tighter between them.

“I said, get—” you struggled at the last, trying in vain to buck off whoever was above you. You cursed under your breath when it seemed clear they weren’t planning on budging.

“If this is how ye treat yer boyfriend, I’m glad ye dumped me,” a voice said with some amusement.

You groaned into the grass below you, eyes squeezing shut in disbelief,

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Daryl loosened one hand from your hair to start rubbing circles in your back. When you retched again, he moved his palm even more softly.

“I think I know ye well enough to say ya shouldn’t be chugging Everclear to prove a point,” Daryl said.

You didn’t have anything to say to that. He was right.

After one more pitiful heave, you started to struggle to get upright and eventually onto your feet. Daryl looped an arm around your waist and helped you up.

Your mind was reeling and your stomach was steeling itself against another potential onslaught of convulsions. When Daryl turned you around and steadied you in front of him, though, all concern for your current predicament ebbed gently from your mind. His blue eyes seemed to study every inch of you.

“Do you hate me now?” you asked abruptly.

You felt stupid for asking as soon as you said it. But then, to your surprise, Daryl smiled. He placed a hand on either side of your head and tilted it up to his.

“Do I look like I hate ye?” he asked.

Perhaps owing to your state of intoxication or the way Daryl made you feel when there was little more between you than a few inches and ample opportunity, you actually looked him up and down. Trying to detect any trace of hatred or the least bit of annoyance there but coming up with nothing. He started stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

The memories and the feelings all came flooding back faster than you would’ve liked, but there they were, and there he was, standing tall and tame and perfectly blameless in this situation you wished you hadn’t shot to shit two weeks ago. You suspected if he’d been looking at you any differently that night, it was simply an act of self-preservation on his part; no number of dirty looks or disparaging jabs could mask the fact that he couldn’t hate you if he tried. One warm look from those wide, placid eyes turned your stomach inside out and made you ashamed you ever left him in the first place.

You weren’t sure who started it, but your lips were back together in seconds, placing hot, frantic kisses all over the other.

“Did you miss me?” you mumbled against his mouth, in between a barrage of kisses.

Daryl’s hands traveled down your back and squeezed your ass, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist.

“More than you fuckin' know,” he groaned as he slid his tongue between your lips.

Quick came the mind-numbing rush of intimacy in secret, that lovely, electrifying feeling of doing something you shouldn’t. It took no time at all to get reacquainted with that addictive sensation—you felt yourself lean into it even more this time around. You slipped out of his arms and back onto your feet, ready for more of him.

“We can’t—” Daryl started, out of breath already, “—keep doin’ this, honey.”

“Yes, we can,” you returned quickly. Reaching for his belt while your pupils widened with lust.

You made the few familiar maneuvers to undo his buckle, button, and fly, and when you palmed him over his boxers, he moaned.

“What happens when your daddy finds out, hm?” Daryl managed through gritted teeth.

“If he does,” you corrected him.

“When he does.”

You sighed, frustrated. Daryl sure wasn’t making things easier on you.

“What do you want me to say, D? That I—I can just come clean and tell him his best friend’s been bangin’ me for the past six months? You know he’d skin you alive,” you said, your voice a little less kind than you intended.

It was the truth, though.

Like clockwork, Daryl took you back in his arms and carried you clear across Deanna’s yard, toward a tiny shed in the back. You snuck a look over your shoulder and saw his old, trusted motorcycle propped up against its siding.

When he placed you on the wide leather seat, you knew this fight was far from over. You kissed again, anyway.

“I’ll tell him myself then.” Daryl pulled off of you and ran his hands up your stocking-covered legs.

He rubbed them up and down and up again until his fingers faltered at the edge of your garter belt, secured snugly across the tops of your thighs.

“Or we can tell him. Together,” he rejoined, calmly dropping a hand between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat. You were already so sensitive, soaked through your panties and ready to take him whole. You whined when he swept his thumb over your clothed heat and clamped your thighs in defiance when he started to rub you up and down.

“I need you now,” you moaned.

Daryl didn’t bother concealing his smirk and just reached back to readjust himself—toying with your attention while you waited for him to take his cock out fully.

“No foreplay, huh?” he mused aloud as he eased his boxers down, “Must’ve been missin’ this cock somethin’ awful.”

You nodded without a second thought.

You were physically salivating at the sight of him. Watching him pump himself firm in one hand and brush your cheek with the knuckles of his other in a gentle touch.

“My baby won’t mind gettin’ stretched out again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Promise not to cry?”

“Uh-huh.”

He was teasing you now. He’d seen your wide, listless eyes drink in the sight of him and couldn’t resist.

When he told you to bend over the seat of his bike, you obeyed in an instant. You planted your palms on the cushion, stuck your ass in the air, and practically wiggled it for him there.

“Like a bitch in heat,” Daryl growled just loud enough for you to hear.

He took your ass in both hands and spread yourself just wide enough so he could see the leaking, dripping mess along the slit of your panties. You sighed when he pried your underwear off a second later.

Daryl’s idea of “skipping” foreplay still wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t tease you to the point of orgasm at least once or twice.

True to form, he leaned in and placed a kiss over your unclothed core, and your knees almost buckled. He pushed his tongue up your slit, circled your clit, and dragged it all the way down past your pussy to the point he was nearly veering into uncharted territory for you both.

You gripped the bike below you and moaned out loud.

“Daryl, baby,” you pleaded with no motive in particular. You didn’t know what he was doing, you just wanted him to keep doing it.

“Want me here?” Daryl asked, his thumb sliding to that same delicate spot.

You pushed your hips back into him in a wordless but enthusiastic answer in the affirmative. Daryl grew even harder.

He knew you weren’t ready for that just yet, knew he wanted to make that first-time experience in your other hole a little more sentimental than taking you over his bike with little to no lubrication—but the thought of the future endeavor excited him nonetheless. He peppered a couple more gentle kisses between your legs before standing up.

You whimpered at the loss of contact and almost turned around to say as much when he reappeared behind you, this time pressing the head of his cock between your folds.

“How bou’ here, honey? Can I fuck ya here?” he asked, all sweet words and civility when it came time to fuck you stupid.

“Y-yes, Daryl, yes,” you supplied your consent in a second.

“Then be good for me while ye take it, okay, doll?”

Before you could answer, Daryl’s cock was already starting to split you open. Soft, slow, and tender, with a stretch that made it feel like your first all over again, you both moaned at the feeling and rolled your bodies into one another.

Two weeks apart and you were all but fiending for an orgasm like he hadn’t been inside you for a year or more. Judging by the sounds Daryl made when he bottomed out, he was right there with you.

He dragged himself out to the tip and plunged back in, gripping your hips like they were the last thing holding him to earth. Then dropped his head back and groaned when you pushed yourself back to start meeting his thrusts.

“Ye feel too fuckin’ good,” he grunted, relishing the sounds of his balls slapping your ass with each bounce.

Your nose was buried somewhere between the seat and your own trembling fingers, scarcely breathing more than you could manage between each moan of his name. He loved you like this, all bent out of shape with your brain devoid of any other thought but his cock. He ran a finger over the pale, feathered wings of your costume—the ones that mirrored those emblazoned on the back of his vest—and couldn’t help but smile.

Just when you clenched and sensed you were dangerously close, Daryl hoisted you back onto your feet. Pulling out for a moment to switch positions and take you in his lap, now straddling him over his bike.

You sighed at the new sensation and smiled now that you could see him face-to-face. Daryl grinned right back and took your lips in his for a couple quick kisses.

“M’perfect girl,” he hummed, sponging kiss after kiss across your skin in sloppy, haphazard fashion.

You tipped your chin back and reveled in his gentle affections, moving your hips over him a little faster now.

“Gonna cum f’me? Show me just how good I’m making ye feel?” Daryl prodded, eyes alight with lust.

You pressed your forehead to his and nodded. Breaths coming out more ragged and strained than ever, you felt Daryl lift his hips and start fucking into you a little sharper, grip your sides a little less gently and just start giving it to you hard and fast and senseless so you’d be spilling over him in no time at all.

You were a mystery to him in many ways, but this realm was not one of them. Daryl knew just the right angle to take your soft, sensitive spot—strike it over and over and over again so you were clenching tight around him, begging him not to stop—and in a matter of seconds, you both got what you desperately wanted.

With one final squeeze around his member, you reached your peak and screamed his name, fucking him back with every vicious thrust he gave you. Then, try as he might to hold it in, Daryl grew just as oversexed and sensitive, shooting his load in you moments later.

The two of you rutted and moaned and clutched each other tight as you trembled through your highs. With Daryl’s warmth spreading deep inside you, you would’ve liked to stay this way forever—maybe rest in each other’s arms long enough to rally for rounds two, three, and four, if not more. But at present, you were content just to hold him.

A dull thump of music echoed from Deanna’s house. Daryl eyed you up and down, seemed set on asking if you’d like to go again, but took you by surprise with another question entirely.

He pulled you tight in his lap so his lips were close to yours. Sank his fingers into the flesh of your sides and said, ever casually:

“Ready to tell Rick?”

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #smut #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

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najia-cooks · 11 months

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[ID: A greyish brown stew presented alongside flatbread, red pepper paste, green peppers, and carrot sticks. End ID]

سماقية / Summagiyya (Gazan stew with chard, chickpea, sumac, and 'lamb')

Summagiyya (سُمَّاقِيَّة; also translitered "sumagiyya", "sumaghiyyeh" or "sumaqiyya") is one of the signature dishes of the Gaza strip, in particular Gaza City. It consists of lamb, chard, and chickpeas in a sumac-infused broth; savor and zest is added by a dagga of dill seeds, garlic, and peppers, and nutty depth by a generous drizzle of red tahina. The resulting stew is thick, earthy, and slodgily grey (due to the green chard and red sumac)—it also has the characteristic sourness of much Gazan cuisine.

Summagiyya is most often prepared during holidays, especially Eid al-Fitr; it's an excellent make-ahead dish for these occasions, since it's even better once its flavors have had time to meld and mellow overnight. It is served cold alongside fresh vegetables, and eaten by using flatbread to scoop up each bite. This recipe provides a spiced seitan recipe to replace the lamb, but you may also use any lamb or beef substitute of your choice.

Today, summagiyya is often prepared with Israeli white tahina, as decades of punitive import laws, taxes, and restrictions have enforced Palestine's status as a consumer, rather than an producer, of food products. Israeli tariffs on, and confiscations of, Palestinian goods have forced those tahina factories that survived to import sesame seeds rather than using locally grown crops, even as they export the best of their product to Israel. The dubbing of foods such as tahina and hummus as culturally "Israeli" cuisine works to hide this exploitative relationship, and cement an Israeli national identity through the subsuming and erasure of Palestinian existence. It is for this reason that Emad Moussa writes that Palestinian cuisine has a role in "protecting against a people's very extinction."

Medical Aid for Palestinians (MAP) has put out an urgent call for donations to provide medical supplies to Palestinian hospitals when supply lines reopen. Also contact your representatives in the USA, UK, and Canada.

Ingredients:

For the soup:

500g (2 large bunches) chard (شلق), diced

80g Levantine sumac berries (Rhus coriaria)

1/2 cup soaked and boiled chickpeas, mostly cooked (40g dry / scant 1/4 cup)

1/4 cup red tahina

1/2 cup (60g) all-purpose flour

1 large yellow onion

1/4 cup olive oil

1 tsp kosher salt

2 cardamom pods (optional)

2 allspice berries (optional)

More olive oil, to fry

Sumac berries can be found in the spice section of a halal grocery store. If you're unable to locate whole berries, pre-ground will do.

For the dagga:

1 1/2 Tbsp dill seeds

5 cloves garlic

1/2 green cubanelle pepper

2-3 dried red chilis (optional)

1/2 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp cumin

Dill seeds may be found at a halal, south Asian, or speciality European grocery store. They are commonly used in Indian food and as a pickling spice. At a south Asian grocery store they may be labelled soyo, suva, shepu, or savaa.

For the lamb:

1 cup (120g) vital wheat gluten, aka gluten flour

1/2 Tbsp ground sumac

1/2 tsp ground caraway

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp Palestinian 7-spice

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp sea salt

1/2 tsp ground black pepper

1/2 tsp ground cumin

1/2 tsp ground aniseed

1/2 tsp turnermic

1 tbsp olive oil

1/2 tsp soy sauce

1 tsp miso paste

2 cloves garlic, grated

2 tsp pomegranate molasses

1 Tbsp white or red tahina

About 1/2 cup vegetarian 'beef' stock from concentrate, or vegetable stock

Pomegranate molasses is simply pomegranate juice that has been reduced to a thick consistency. It may be found in the sauces section of a halal grocery store.

Instructions:

For the soup:

1. Soak dried chickpeas in cool water overnight, or in just-boiled water for an hour. Drain and re-cover with water, and boil for 30-45 minutes, until almost fully cooked. Drain and set aside.

2. Simmer sumac seeds in enough water to cover by a couple inches for about an hour, until the water is dark red. Blend the seeds and water together, then strain the mixture through a cheesecloth.

If you're using ground sumac, skip the blending step. Use a cheesecloth or very fine metal sieve (such as one intended for brewing tea) to remove the ground spice from the water.

3. Whisk the flour into the sumac-infused water.

For the lamb:

1. Combine all dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Add wet ingredients other than stock and stir briefly. Add enough stock to produce a soft, smooth dough.

2. Knead by hand on a clean surface, or put in a stand mixer with paddle attachment on medium-low, for about 5 minutes. You should see stringy strands begin to form in the dough.

3. Allow to rest, covered, for 5-10 minutes to encourage gluten formation. Knead for another 3 minutes. Do not over-knead.

4. Tear the dough into bite-sized pieces.

Stringy seitan being pulled apart into pieces.

You may also shape the dough into a slab and cube it with a sharp knife—the lamb or beef used in summagiyya is usually cubed—but I prefer the texture of torn seitan to sliced.

5. Steam the seitan pieces for 10 minutes in a bamboo steamer or using a metal steamer basket. Place the bamboo steamer in the bottom of a wok and cover its base by about 1/2" (1 cm), then raise the heat to boil the water; lower the heat to keep the water at a simmer. If using a steamer basket, place it over the opening of a pot containing a couple inches of water and bring it to a simmer. Start the timer when the water begins simmering.

6. Heat olive oil on medium-high and sear the steamed seitan pieces, turning as necessary, until deeply browned on all sides. Set aside.

Fried seitan pieces.

You can save a step here by searing the raw seitan, then returning it to the pot after you've fried the onions to simmer it rather than steaming. I found that this produced a mushier texture.

For the dagga (دقة):

1. Grind cumin and black pepper thoroughly in a mortar and pestle, then add dried red pepper and dill seed and crush coarsely. Add green sweet pepper and garlic and pound until a coarse mixture forms.

Dill seeds, green sweet pepper, garlic, and dried red chili on a cutting board, alongside dagga in a large granite mortar.

You may also use a spice mill or food processor.

To assemble:

1. Chop the onion. Wash the chard and slice it thinly in one direction; turn it ninety degrees and slice thinly again.

Diced chard, fried seitan, dagga, and sumac-infused water with flour.

2. In a large pot, heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil on medium. Fry chopped onion, cardamom pods, and allspice berries for a minute until fragrant. Add half of the dagga and fry until fragrant.

3. Add chard and fry, mixing often, until wilted.

Wilted chard in a wok.

4. Add sumac mixture, chickpeas, and water to cover. Bring to a boil, then lower heat to a simmer. If you didn't steam your seitan earlier, add it now.

5. Continue to stir and simmer until the stew is thick, homogenous, and greyish-brown, about 15 minutes.

Simmered stew.

6. Add the remainder of the garlic mixture, the red tahina, a pinch of ground cumin, the 1/4 cup olive oil, and salt to taste. Return the steamed and seared seitan to the pot and mix.

Serve cool with flatbread, sweet green peppers, bitter green and black olives, carrots, leafy greens, and/or pickles.

#vegetarian recipes #vegan recipe #vegan cooking #Palestinian #Gazan #chickpeas #lamb #seitan #chard #dill seeds #pomegranate molasses

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somanyratsinthewalls · 17 days

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Run Away With Me Chapter 1

NEW SERIES BABY

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Named Female OC (Charlotte Ginger)

Summary: Big Mom's daughter, Charlotte Ginger is married off to Vinsmoke Sanji. What could possibly come of this?

WC: 2200

Run Away with Me Chapter 1

— —

The transponder snail rings.

Big Mom waits a few tones until she answers.

The snail was presented to her on a silver platter from one of her many servants. She lounges in a giant bed and presses the phone up to her ear.

“Yes?” She answers.

“Madam Charlotte. It is a pleasure to speak to you directly. Thank you for taking my call.” A deep voice booms from the other end of the snail.

“The pleasure is all mine, Judge. Did you make a decision from the papers I sent you?” Big mom asks, nibbling at a carrot cake slice she had left on her side table.

There was a pregnant pause.

“I’ve made a decision… but not from the options given to me.” Judge Vinsmoke says from the other end of the line.

“You know how I feel about a change in terms, Vinsmoke… tread carefully.”

“Your daughters are nothing less than spectacular, Madam Charlotte, but what I think would best serve our alliance is one of them I didn’t see in the file.” Judge replies.

“Oh? And who would that be?” Big Mom inquires after wiping the cream cheese frosting from her lips.

“The red haired one. The hunter. From the wanted posters. That’s the one I want for my son.”

Another silence.

“So you want my Ginger, eh?” Big Mom indulges him. “Why?”

“She’s strong. Intelligent. Crafty. Good breeding stock for my boy. This legacy lives long after we’re gone, Linlin, am I correct? I have no interest in simply making an alliance. I want to build an empire.” Judge says grimly, with a smirk hidden not-so-plainly in his voice.

“Hmm… you make an interesting point, Vinsmoke. I’ll consider it.”

— —

*peck*

*caw?*

Your eyelids flutter open. Your familiar raven, Nori, was gently prodding his beak at your nose, causing you to wake up and scrunch your face together.

“What? Gods forbid a girl get a break around here.” You sigh and throw the blanket off your body. Nori flaps his wings and settles on your night table before cocking his head and giving you an urgent sounding coo.

You throw your long, bright red hair into a ponytail quickly as you rise to your feet. You slip on your boots, still slightly dank from the long journey at sea. You were sent on a hunting expedition, as searching and destroying was always your area of expertise. Your mother, an emperor of the seas, had you go off to hunt down a pack of deserters and bring back some supplies along with the bodies of her betrayers.

Always the good daughter, you obliged your mother’s every request. It was no easy feat, capturing and executing the deserters, but with your skills and prowess you were able to achieve your goal. You carried the men’s heads deep within the belly of your ship, carefully preserved to present to your Mama. Years ago you lost count of the heads of dead men you’ve offered to your mother for her shrewd approval. Marines, pirates, low brow bootleggers, high born nobles, no target was safe from your murderous grasp.

You loved your position. A general of Big Mom’s army and Minister of Spice, you were her most powerful daughter and an essential member of her armada at the tender age of 24. As little love and care as your mother showed you growing up, you appeased her now to stay in her good graces. You knew if Mama got a single *whiff* of indignation, your status would be lost to one of the multitude of your other siblings…

Perhaps someone larger… one of Mama’s children with giants perhaps. Or one of her fishmen children, adept in the arts of karate and unmatched in the seas. Your father was a wood elf from a secluded island in the South Blue… or so your mother told you. Perished before he could meet you. She explained this only once when you asked why your ears were different… pointed so much that you were bullied in school.

“Tell me who’s bothering you, cupcake. I’ll just have a nice talk with their parents..” Your mother would always say when you asked her why the other children made fun of your ears as a kid. When you were young you hid your ears with your long hair, but once you proved yourself as Big Mom’s strongest tracker and hunter, you no longer feared judgment and mostly wore your hair in a slicked, long ponytail.

*squaaak!* Nori cawed louder, as if trying to urge you to hurry up getting ready.

“Alright alright, I’m moving.” You hush the bird and throw the pink cloak emblazoned with your mother’s jolly roger over your shoulders. You slide your daggers into the holsters on your thighs and swing your bow and quiver across your back before making your way to the door of your captain’s quarters.

You push the wooden door open and trudge out into the sunlight. You bring your palm to your brow in an attempt to shield your eyes from the sun’s brightness. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you can see Whole Cake Island coming up fast on the horizon. You let out a deep sigh.

Another mission over. Stuck at home until the next assignment… But what was home, really? You loved your ship, your crew, your job… being at the chateau depressed you. Stewards and maids waiting on you hand and foot… constant badgering from your underlings and younger siblings… you wished you could always be at sea.

The sea awakened you. The battles filled you with vigor. The camaraderie of a crew on the ocean brought you to life… But you were cursed to always come home to Mama.

“Men! Prepare for arrival!” You shout to your crew before beginning to take down the main sail yourself.

— —

You stepped off the gangplank and your soggy boots met the worn wood of the dock at Whole Cake Island.

“Alright men, bring my cargo up the chateau. Mama will be quite pleased to see her spoils from this trip.” You say as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You turn around and see an emissary with several guards approaching you on the dock.

“I can’t say I’m used to a welcoming party. A special occasion?” You quip at the emissary as you straighten out your leathers.

“Big Mom has requested your audience as soon as possible, Miss Ginger. You are to come with us.” The grey bearded emissary said with a blank expression. Your hunter’s intuitions can’t help but notice the way the guards grip on their spears tighten as he finished his sentence. You scan their faces. You can only see fear.

“And if I don’t go with you?” You cock your head curiously.

“I am afraid that’s not an option.” The emissary purses his lips. “Miss Ginger.”

You were exhausted and not prepared for a fight, your men were loyal to you, but wouldn’t risk their lives to Big Mom for anything.

“Aye. I’ll come.” You resign.

*caw! CAW!* Nori frantically called from your shoulder.

The emissary clears his throat.

“Your mother requests you alone.” He says as he eyes your bird.

“I’ll be fine, Nori. I promise. Wait here.” You coo to your familiar.

He grows disapprovingly before flying off.

— —

You follow the emissary and the guards up the the chateau through the winding, frosting lined corridors of the castle as your mind races. What could mother possible want with you so urgently? You had done everything she asked for… the heads of the deserters on a silver platter… a ship filled to the brim with sweets and supplies… you couldn’t think of anything you’e done recently she could even consider a transgression… unless it was about Lazora….

You eventually reach Big Mom’s chambers and the emissary holds the door open for you. You take a deep breath before crossing the threshold.

Your mother was seated on her lavish, massively large loveseat indulging in several bowls of what you could only perceive as banana pudding. Her throat bobbed heinously as she shoveled more of the dessert down her enormous gullet. You stepped towards her softly as not to disturb her gorging.

“Mama…” You say quietly.

“Ginger!” Your mother exclaims as she righted herself and placed the empty dish on the coffee table. “I’m so glad you’re back, my sweet child. Something incredible has come up, and I just can’t wait to tell you about it!”

“Yes, Mama?” You ask.

“Come, come, my love. Sit down! I can even have the guards bring some of that red wine you like.” Your mother gestures towards the armchair across from her.

“I’m quite alright, Mama, thank you.” You say as you sit down and place your hands in your lap.

“Well, Ginge, I’ll get right to it. We’ve come into the opportunity for the strongest alliance the world has seen in decades.. and you’re the one in the middle of it! How exciting!” Your mom claps her massive hands together below her double chin. You were reminded at this point how easily it would be for her to crush you in those hands…

“I… I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mama…” You say, confused.

“Germa 66… the most powerful technological agency in the entire world has offered to marry one of their sons off to the Charlotte family! It would prove greatly beneficial for both us and them. Isn’t that fantastic, my sweet cupcake? Your wedding will be in nearly a weeks time! I am so happy for you! And all of us!” Your mom grinned.

“But… mother… You told me if I could rise to the ranks of general… or minister… I would be exempt from political marriage! I’ve managed to do both and you’ve still sold me off? I don’t understand…” You shake your head in a panicked manner as her words start to sink in.

“Things change, darling. We all took an oath to protect and serve this family… and I’ve determined this is the best way you can do your duty.” Your mother reaches for another bowl of pudding from the table and you instinctively flinch, thinking she was lunging for you.

“Mother I must protest.. I have no desire to marry, which is why I pursued the role that I did. I am your most elite hunter and assassin… the fleet will be left with a massive gap without me! I have done everything you’ve asked since the day I was born I-“ You stutter out through gritted teeth.

“ENOUGH!”

You mouth is snapped closed by an unseen force. Your mother’s power was far, far greater than your own.

“You will marry the Vinsmoke boy with no issue. You have been chosen for this task and should feel grateful.” Your mother scolds you.

“M-m-my sh-shi-ship-!” You choke out through the invisible grasp that Big Mom has around your throat.

“Silly girl. Cracker will take over your fleet. He may not be as productive, but he’s got you cornered in the strength department. I’m sure his results will be just as fine.” Your mother shoots you a cheeky glare.

You sputter for breath as you struggle to breathe.

“Ma.. Ma..” You croak out.

The grasp on your throat releases and you clutch your neck, gasping deeply to regain oxygen.

“The wedding is Sunday.” Your mother says casually as she gulps down a second bowl of dessert. “It’ll take that long to get you presentable.” She gestures to the guards. “Get her to the chambermaids. She needs a decent gown and to wash that vile sea-stench from her hair. The Germa Prince arrives tomorrow and she needs to be look like a lady for once.” She commands as you grasp at your own throat in relief.

You feel strong arms encircle each of your shoulders

Your body was too weakened to fight back, you simply had no choice but to allow the guards to shuffle you to your chambers.

— —

You fall face first onto your plush comforter, your mind still swimming with thoughts of what your mother just told you… you can’t take it laying down.. there’s no way you’ll be married off… it was guaranteed to you…

“Wait! Stop!” You push yourself off the bed and rush towards the door, pulling desperately on the handles, only to find it locked already by your mothers devouts. “No!” You push your legs on the opposite door as you pull the handle with all your might. You pull one of your daggers from your thigh-holster and try to jam Ito between the double doors to unjam the lock mechanism.

“Ah!” You screamed.

It was like a lightening bolt hit your body. You were shocked and blown backwards. Your mother must have put some enchantment on the door… you were trapped…

— —

A/N HEY YALL NEW SERIES TIME! I PROMISE WE’LL GET SANJI IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! We’re just doing a lil world building, ya digg? Also please send me inboxes or comments for ideas for this series or critiques! Love yall.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece anime #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece smut #one piece fandom #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #sanji

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w2beastars · 2 months

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Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 24.

Paru is back at it again!

Meet South the Iguana.

South is a twenty-nine year old lizard. Saying he is an alcoholic might be an exaggeration... but he very much have an alcohol problem. Having sensitive skin and living in a very warm area, South needs to stay hydrated, but he choose to mainly drink beer instead of water. Partly because of how it affects his skin but also o make it easier for him to not think about his problems.

But then his excessive drinking is cock-blocked by a penguin inside the beer fridge... Still not the weirdest thing I ever wrote.

Yeah, a baby penguin somehow ended up in the store where South gets his favorite brand of beer. To stay cool in the very warm area South lives in, the little guy is now inside the beer fridge and refuse to leave. Begrudgingly, South takes the little penguin to his small apartment so the shop can stock up on beer again.

Having a guest in his home for the first time in ages, South realize that his place is not just dirty, it is rather empty. He sleeps on a mattress, has a fridge for his beer and food and a microwave oven for his meals. His home is about as pathetic as he is.

As South thinks about how his life is kind of a fart, we learn something... shocking about this iguana.

Something that you have never seen before in Beastars OR in Beast Complex. Something so odd that you might find it revolting. It will make you wonder if Paru was even more unhinged than she normally is while making this comic!

You see, South...

... was in a relationship with a female WHO IS THE SAME SPECIES AS HIM!

Trust me, dear reader. I'm as shocked as you are! A Beast Complex character who was NOT dating an animal completely different from them?!

What madness is this?!

Okay, seriously speaking.

We get some good ol' Paru symbolism as we see that South's life has for a while revolved around his fridge. Or rather, what is inside it. It got out of hand to the point that his (same-species?!?!?) girlfriend dumped him and his boss feeling so sorry for him that he makes him take a break instead of downright firing him.

So South drinks when he gets anxious. But his increasing drinking makes him more anxious, which results in him drinking even more, making him more anxious and so on. As he thinks about his boss and ex, he once again gets "thirsty" and practically tears his fridge oepn.

South would probably end up as a drunken waist... if not for his new "roommate."

See, the thing about depression is that you often ends up alone, either because the people around you lose their patience or you choose to be alone. And when you are alone with a minimum of interaction with the real world, you stop caring about the small things like cleaning your home, a proper diet and your economy.

Best thing to do is actually to be useful somehow. Like doing voluntary work or getting a pet. Or in this case, a penguin in your fridge. If you are of use for someone else, you feel a little better about yourself.

And that's what South is to the baby penguin he has named Sam(a reference to the Japanese word for "cold"). The two of them can't really talk since Sam is a sea animal and has a entirely different language.

Whenever South has his panic attacks and go for a beer, he is instead met by the fluffy little bird in the fridge. So South has to clean the fridge for penguin poop and also spend extra hours in his part-time job since he spends more money on electricity because of Sam being inside the fridge. As the days pass, South finds himself acting like, well... a functional adult.

One day, South gets a reason to panic again as he realize that Sam is losing his white coat and looks skinny instead of fluffy.

If you know a thing or two about penguins, then you will know that there is nothing to worry about. But South knows jack shit about these birds, so he rush him to a hospital on his bicycle.

On their way, they pass the ocean... and we get this majestic moment.

There was nothing to worry about, Sam is just growing up and losing his fluff, finally ready to leave his nest and get in the ocean.

A pair of dolphins are luckily near and South has managed to learn to speak a little sea language so he can ask the dolphins to escort the young penguin to Antarctica.

Despite Sam having left his apartment, South still have a little of Sam in his fridge as the penguin sends him letters on pieces of ice.

So South's life still revolves around his fridge so to say, just in a much healthier way.

This was such a nice tale about a guy rebuilding his life by having to be dependent for someone else.

... Even if South is a freak, dating a fellow iguana. BE A FURRY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, SOUTH!

I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

#beast complex #beastars #south #south the iguana #sam #sam the penguin #sam the king penguin #itagaki paru #paru itagaki #paru

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storiesfromgaza · 11 months

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Note: Tumblr deleted the video, But I have reuploaded it.

Bisan posted videos on her Instagram account, documenting all the events that occurred today. I compiled them into one clip and added a caption.

It's important to watch it to understand the suffering they are going through and to share it so that everyone knows. And don't forget to pray for her and all the people of Gaza

a Transcription of everything she said in the video:

This is Bisan from Gaza. I'm still alive. Today is the 30th day of the war in Gaza, and this might be the last update I can provide to you. I'm not sure if I will survive until tomorrow in these conditions. I will give you an update for the past two days and this night, the last night. What happened is that the Israeli army started targeting any way to survive. They are targeting any way to generate electricity. The Israeli army targeted the whole solar cells in the whole Gaza City, over buildings, over bakeries, and anywhere that contains solar cells - it was bombed. The Israeli army bombed the major petroleum and water tanks in Gaza City as well. The wheat stocks and the bakeries were threatened that if they were open, they would be bombed, and they ran out of petrol and wheat. But then after obtaining some, their stocks were bombed. Tonight, there's been no piece of bread in Gaza City for four days, and there's no clean drinking water anywhere because we need electricity to find the water. After bombing the infrastructure and any way to obtain water or bread, they dropped between 100 to 300 white phosphorus bombs over Shati refugee camp, which is near Al-Shifa hospital. The gas spread throughout Gaza City, and tonight, my eyes, nose, and mouth started burning, I had a headache, and people started coughing and trying to find shelter. They dropped the gas to evacuate us and lead us to go outside Gaza. This morning, after cutting off the internet and connections, they dropped leaflets from the sky telling people that they have to evacuate to the south. They have to evacuate to the south, walking without using any vehicle. It's planned - this is genocide, with people striving, no food, no water, white phosphorus, and then forcing us to leave. Even if we survive the white phosphorus and the bombings, if in the schools, hospitals, and our homes there is no food and clean water, all we have is salty water from the sea. They are trying to kill a million people by hunger, making them thirsty and sick. There's no aid, and 0.8 can enter the north. A million people are still in the north. There's no food, no water. This is the paper that was dropped today. They are trying to push us to the borders, near the desert, making the safe areas smaller and smaller. We are two million people still here. So, people are celebrating 100-meter airdrops, but they are not entering Gaza; they are not reaching the hospitals. They are to the south of Gaza, we're in the north. More than a million people are in the north, and a million people are in the south. These airdrops are not enough, do not contain fuel, and about going to the north, we need fuel, medical supplies, food - we cannot get anything. The media needs to talk about this; people need to talk about this - we're hungry. We used to eat once a day, but now, even this time, we cannot afford it. There's no value for our existence, for our money, and there's no product to buy - there's nothing. Many people are struggling, and people are dying because of hunger, and there is no clean water.

#gaza #palestine #gaza strip #free gaza #free palestine #storiesfromgaza #غزة #فلسطين #genocide #humanitarian crisis

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 6, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUL 7, 2023

The payroll processing firm ADP said today that private sector jobs jumped by 497,000 in June, far higher than the Dow Jones consensus estimate predicted. The big gains were in leisure and hospitality, which added 232,000 new hires; construction with 97,000; and trade, transportation and utilities with 90,000. Annual pay rose at a rate of 6.4%. Most of the jobs came from companies with fewer than 50 employees.

The Dow Jones Industrial Average, which is a way to measure the stock market by aggregating certain stocks, dropped 372 points as the strong labor market made traders afraid that the Fed would raise interest rates again to cool the economy. Higher interest rates make borrowing more expensive, slowing investment.

Today, as the Washington Post’s climate reporter Scott Dance warned that the sudden surge of broken heat records around the globe is raising alarm among scientists, Bloomberg’s Cailley LaPara reported that the incentives in the Inflation Reduction Act for emerging technologies to address climate change have long-term as well as short-term benefits.

Dance noted that temperatures in the North Atlantic are already close to their typical annual peak although we are early in the season, sea ice levels around Antarctica are terribly low, and Monday was the Earth’s hottest day in at least 125,000 years and Tuesday was hotter. LaPara noted that while much attention has been paid to the short-term solar, EV, and wind industries in the U.S., emerging technologies for industries that can’t be electrified—technologies like sustainable aviation fuel, clean hydrogen, and direct air capture, which pulls carbon dioxide out of the air—offer huge potential to reduce emissions by 2030.

This news was the backdrop today as President Biden was in South Carolina to talk about Bidenomics. After touting the huge investments of both public and private capital that are bringing new businesses and repaired infrastructure to that state, Biden noted that analysts have said that the new laws Democrats have passed will do more for Republican-dominated states than for Democratic ones. “Well, that’s okay with me,” Biden said, “because we’re all Americans. Because my view is: Wherever the need is most, that’s the place we should be helping. And that’s what we’re doing. Because the way I look at it, the progress we’re making is good for all Americans, all of America.”

On Air Force One on the way to the event, deputy press secretary Andrew Bates began his remarks to the press: “President Biden promised that he would be a president for all Americans, regardless of where they live and regardless of whether they voted for him or not. He also promised to rebuild the middle class. The fact that Bidenomics has now galvanized over $500 billion in job-creating private sector investment is the newest testament to how seriously he takes fulfilling those promises.”

Bates listed all the economic accomplishments of the administration and then added: “the most powerful endorsement of Bidenomics is this: Every signature economic law this President has signed, congressional Republicans who voted “no” and attacked it on Fox News then went home to their district and hailed its benefits.” He noted that “Senator Lindsey Graham called the Inflation Reduction Act ‘a nightmare for South Carolina,’” then, “[j]ust two months later, he called BMW’s electric vehicles announcement ‘one of the most consequential announcements in the history of the state of South Carolina.’” “Representative Joe Wilson blasted the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law but later announced, ‘I welcome Scout Motors’ plans to invest $2 billion and create up to 4,000 jobs in South Carolina.’ Nancy Mace called Bidenomics legislation a…‘disaster,’ then welcomed a RAISE grant to Charleston.”

“[W]hat could speak to the effectiveness of Bidenomics more than these conversions?” Bates asked.

While Biden is trying to sell Americans on an economic vision for the future, the Republican leadership is doubling down on dislike of President Biden and the Democrats. Early on the morning of July 2, Trump, who remains the presumptive 2024 Republican presidential nominee, shared a meme of President Biden that included a flag reading: “F*CK BIDEN AND F*CK YOU FOR VOTING FOR HIM!” The next morning, in all caps, he railed against what he called “massive prosecutorial conduct” and “the weaponization of law enforcement,” asking: “Do the people of this once great nation even have a choice but to protest the potential doom of the United States of America??? 2024!!!”

Prosecutors have told U.S. district judge Aileen Cannon that they want to begin Trump’s trial on 37 federal charges for keeping and hiding classified national security documents, and as his legal trouble heats up, Trump appears to be calling for violence against Democrats. On June 29 he posted what he claimed was the address of former president Barack Obama, inspiring a man who had been at the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol to repost the address and to warn, “We got these losers surrounded! See you in hell,…Obama’s [sic].” Taylor Tarranto then headed there with firearms and ammunition, as well as a machete, in his van. Secret Service agents arrested him.

Indeed, those crossing the law for the former president are not faring well. More than 1,000 people have been arrested for their participation in the events of January 6, and those higher up the ladder are starting to feel the heat as well. Trump lawyer Lin Wood, who pushed Trump’s 2020 election lies, was permitted to “retire” his law license on Tuesday rather than be disbarred. Trump lawyer John Eastman is facing disbarment in California for trying to overturn the 2020 election with his “fake elector” scheme, a ploy whose legitimacy the Supreme Court rejected last week. And today, Trump aide Walt Nauta pleaded not guilty to federal charges of withholding documents and conspiring to obstruct justice for allegedly helping Trump hide the classified documents he had at Mar-a-Lago.

Trump Republicans—MAGA Republicans—are cementing their identity by fanning fears based on cultural issues, but it is becoming clear those are no longer as powerful as they used to be as the reality of Republican extremism becomes clear.

Yesterday the man who raped and impregnated a then-9-year-old Ohio girl was sentenced to at least 25 years in prison. Last year, after the Supreme Court overturned the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision recognizing the constitutional right to abortion, President Biden used her case to argue for the need for abortion access. Republican lawmakers, who had criminalized all abortions after 6 weeks, before most people know they’re pregnant, publicly doubted that the case was real (Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost told the Fox News Channel there was “not a damn scintilla of evidence” to support the story). Unable to receive an abortion in Ohio, the girl, who had since turned 10, had to travel to Indiana, where Dr. Caitlin Bernard performed the procedure.

Republican Indiana attorney general Todd Rokita complained—inaccurately—that Bernard had not reported child abuse and that she had violated privacy laws by talking to a reporter, although she did not identify the patient and her employer said she acted properly. Bernard was nonetheless reprimanded for her handling of privacy issues and fined by the Indiana licensing board. Her employer disagreed.

As Republican-dominated states have dramatically restricted abortion, they have fueled such a backlash that party members are either trying to avoid talking about it or are now replacing the phrase “national ban” with “national consensus” or “national standard,” although as feminist writer Jessica Valenti, who studies this language, notes, they still mean strict antiabortion measures. In the House, some newly-elected and swing-district Republicans have blocked abortion measures from coming to a vote out of concern they will lose their seats in 2024.

But it is not at all clear the issue will go away. Yesterday, those committed to protecting abortion rights in Ohio turned in 70% more signatures than they needed to get a measure amending the constitution to protect that access on the ballot this November. In August, though, antiabortion forces will use a special election to try to change the threshold for constitutional amendments, requiring 60% of voters rather than a majority.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Bidenomics #Joe Biden #economy #jobs #middle class #justice #Letters From an American #Heather Cox Richardson #infrastructure #climate change

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ranticore · 7 months

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pelagic spiral villages

It's not the prettiest diagram and might be hard to follow. First off, the spiral is a region in the south of the western continent of Siren

the spiral region is not limited to the actual physical structure of the land, where the characteristic ridges and valleys of Siren crumple up into a twisted shape, but also extends south as far as the icecaps, with the ridges continuing their spiral but underwater (on the map above, the visible spiral is only what extends above water)

It comprises all of the pale blue water in this map area, bordered by the darker deeper water and what is known as the Ice Wall in the south.

The most densely settled areas are within the tallest ridges at the middle of the spiral, as these ridges form physical walls and barriers which prevent many of the dangers of the open sea from entering villages without having to traverse what is quite frankly a labyrinth of narrow valleys beforehand. But at the edges of the spiral, nearer to the ice wall, lies the pelagic village of !uamaa. This is where Huarva comes from and what's pictured at the top.

it is populated by phocids and some selkies underwater and Ice Wall shortwings above water (they are similar to penguins). It consists of a huge three-tiered underwater hall with an air pocket trapped by a tethered tent-like cap made of transparent material derived from sipho scales. The bottom tier is stocked with oxygenating plants (i can only assume they are VERY productive). The middle tier is submerged and where the in habitants enter the hall (through the round openings pictured). Shelf-like beds attached to the sturdy woven walls provide platforms where a phocid can sit with their body submerged but their head out of the water, which is the most comfortable position for them as they do like to have water supporting their weight as much as possible.

The hall was built over a hot water vent in the seafloor. The vent water is directed up through a stone s-duct, which leaves a flat surface above the water which is constantly heated. This is used as a cooking stone; there is a pot of perpetual stew always bubbling here and every villager is expected to contribute something to it every day in return for being allowed to take as much stew as they like.

The other buildings are these balloon type structures which are anchored both to the sea floor and to the floating pontoons above. The balloons do not have oxygen generating plants, but must be manually raised and lowered to the surface to trap more air every day. The colour palette is overall a strongly contrasting black and white (fun fact, pelagic people are hypersensitive to the colour red out of the water, to the point where it might cause headaches)

What's life like in the village? Huarva is often asked this but he cannot truly answer, because he was never a villager. Living out here is extremely tough and demanding, and experience is valued above all else. The eldest and most experienced person in the village is called the All-Bearer and their word is law. The All-Bearer is a matchmaker among villagers, pairing those who are thought to work harmoniously together in arranged partnerships, similar to marriage. Huarva's parents were not arranged; in fact they were strictly forbidden from reproducing because they did not work harmoniously together. They fought and argued and struck sparks off one another, but were inseparable. The All-Bearer gave no blessing for them to have a child.

^the All-Bearer.

In these cases it's not uncommon for the pregnant parent to find a matched pair and attempt to convince them to claim the child. That way nobody is harmed. But it didn't work out in time, on this occasion, so the child - Huarva - was born and immediately outcast from the village as a potential troublemaker. A pretty rough start all things considered. Huarva was an outsider, not a villager. they could hang around the place, beg, speak to people, but never be granted the elders' wisdom lest it be misused by a child of intrinsically bad character. They basically grew up homeless and uneducated in their village.

And this is a major handicap because of how dangerous this region is. Children are sorted into same-age 'generations' which go through a strict and standardised education before being unleashed as leviathan hunters. A couple years of that, and (assuming they survive), that generation moves on to the next-most dangerous job, replaced by the generation below them. And so on and so forth until what remains is the oldest generation, who are finally granted a safe and comfortable life in return for sharing all the wisdom gathered over the years working different professions. Few will remain by then.

The culture is cold. Repressed. Quiet. Fighting is an exile-worthy offense and disagreements are stifled. The All-Bearer makes every final decision and you cannot question them because you do not have the requisite experience to contradict anything they say. If you must be upset, do it where nobody can see, and never openly express discontent.

Huarva survived to adulthood by choosing to stick around the shallows on top of the underwater ridges. They tried many times to earn the All-Bearer's favour enough to earn a place in the village to no avail. Until the All-Bearer finally had enough of them and sent them away on a fetch quest doomed to fail, because Huarva did not have the education to know how to spot the warning signs of a flow of aerated water. Finding themself trapped under it, they panicked, never having learned any methods to slow their heart and extend their usable breath, and almost drowned. Sheer luck saved them; a leviathan-sized giant sipho flying for the surface caught them between its scale plates. It didn't notice its new passenger and ended up dragging Huarva almost the entire way across the dark and to the spire before they got free.

#kind of a ramble but u get it #setting: siren #the culture shock for huarva going from ice-cold matchmaker marriage village to the loud & fighty 'everyone fucking all the time' spire...

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15-lizards · 1 year

Note

Hi!!! I love your fashion posts! Do you have any ideas about male clothing and fashion at the Vale and White Harbour? Are the men as ostentatious as women? Do they lean more into northern or southern trends? Is there a distinctive style at the Vale for men like there is for women?

These are so Vale men. To me. Idk something about the extra long sleeves and the ridiculous hats that give off stuffy vale men walking around like birds trying to get Lysa’s attention. It works well for the weather too, thick pants/stockings and high boots, layered tunics with a heavy velvet surcoat or houpelande, and a turban like hat with some extra fabric to dramatically swish over your neck to top it all off

White Harbor to me is very southern inspired with northern sensibilities. The same doublet, jerkin, and hose you would find farther south, but modified for the cold weather. That means everything being made of thicker materials, over gowns and coats are almost always worn, and any cloak is usually lined with fur, etc etc. However unlike the Starks and other northerners, their ports and sea trade allow them to have dyes, metals, and other luxuries that can’t be found in the north

#asoiaf #asoiaf hair and clothing #sigh mens fashion is so hard to figure out bc it’s all really similar by continent and century #give me something different to work with

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mythriteshah · 6 months

Text

Ladies, gentlemen, and those in between: the time has come once again! After yet another long winter’s time of gathering resources, the Higuri Regalia is proud to announce the return of the “Regalia Largesse” - marking its seventh occurrence!

For those unaware or uninitiated: The Regalia Largesse is an annual event spanning anywhere between 5-7 days that occurs around the late spring/early summer, and is considered the “pinnacle of Noblesse Oblige”!

During this event, individuals from the Higuri Regalia’s hierarchy will make appearances within the various city-states to offer wares to the adventuring public - FOR FREE (Tips and donations are always greatly appreciated, but never mandatory)!

On Sunday, June 16th, at around 7PM EDT, look for a Party Finder ad from any one of the Regalia members; they will provide you information on where they are, and what items will be offered, with a detailed list of what’s available while supplies last. Due to the ever-increasing quantity of wares, their post duration has been extended to three hours. All locations take place on the Balmung World in the Crystal Data Center.

Also, throughout the week, starting at the commencement of the Largesse, those who are willing to partake in a special contest will receive a number. On last day of that week (i.e. the end of the Largesse), a raffle will take place where a series of numbers will be drawn, and those who win will be offered prizes!

RULES:

*To enter the raffle, simply ask the representative currently posted during that day; a tracker is kept throughout the course of the event, and is shared amongst the Regalia members.

You MUST attend the final day of the Largesse in order to qualify for a chance to win.

In the event you are unable to attend the raffle for any reason, you are allowed 1 proxy to vouch for you, so long as they state whom they are replacing.

If your number happens to be drawn, you are offered a chance to decline a particular prize if you have eyes on another, but a winner will be decided for the sake of fairness.

Notes: Sprouts (New Players/Adventurers) will receive Flying Beds and/or attire Coffers as a consolation gift.

The prize list includes the following, and are subject to change:

1st Place Winners: A Chrysomallos Horn/Magitek Avenger G1 Identification Key/Gilded Mikoshi Horn/Golden Ronkan Flute! (4 winners)

2nd Place Winners: An Island Adenium Whistle/Quaqua Horn/Sabotender De La Luna Whistle! (x2 each; 6 winners)

3rd Place Winners: A full set of Free Spirit's Attire! (5 winners)

4th Place Winners: An Uolosapa! (10 winners)

Look for these beautiful individuals throughout the week for the item(s) of the day. Note: stock may (and will) expand between now and the commencement of the Largesse, so everything listed herein is not final.

Sunday, June 16th: Isja "Coldgaze" Kaltablik (Ul’dah, Steps of Nald; Arrzaneth Ossuary)

Items:

Fashion Accessories (Archangel Wings; Pixie Wings; Statice's Wings; False Classic Spectacles; Rose Colored Spectacles)

Summer Attire (Moonfire Halter/Vest; Ti Leaf Lei/Coronal Summer Halter; South Seas/Coeurl Talisman; Sea Breeze Summer Halter & Pareo; Coeurl Beach Halter & Pareo; Blue/Red/Coeurl Beach Summer Maro)

Parasols (Black; Sky Blue; Vermillion Paper; Pleasant Dot; Prim Dot; Pastoral Dot; White Lace; Plum Paper; Calming Checkered; Cheerful Checkered; Classic Checkered; Giant Leaf; Tsukumogami; Sabotender; Blue Blossom; Raindrop Defense System)

Monday, June 17th: Treasurer Susuna Suna (Ul’dah, Steps of Thal; The Gold Court)

Items:

Modern Aesthetics (A Close Shave; Gyr Abanian Plait; Samsonian Locks; Both Ways; Scanning for Style; Battle-ready Bobs; Wind Caller; Controlled Chaos; Early to Rise; Form and Function; Modern Legend; Saintly Style; Ambitious Ends; The Bold and the Braid)

Ballroom Etiquette (/Lean; /Shiver; /Wow; /Eatapple; /Eatriceball; /Bread; /Malevolence; /Guard; /Confirm; /Insist; /Scheme; /Wringhands; /Read; /Paint; /Broom; /Highfive; /Fistpump; /Wow; /Reference; /Humbletriumph)

Tuesday, June 18th: Yuanji Yuji (Shirogane; Ward 16, Plot 60)

Items:

Chocobo Barding (Tidal; Levin; Ice; Highland; Orthodox; Hive; Expanse; Sephirotic; Sophic; Zurvanite; Horde; Abigail; Reveler's; Blissful; Shinryu; Byakko; Suzaku; Seiryu; Samurai; Titania; Innocence; Hades; Ruby; Machinist; True Barding of Light; Emerald; Queen's Guard; Bozjan; Diamond; Eternal Darkness; Divine Light; Bluefeather; Windswept; Flamecloaked; Allagan; Voidcast; Abyssal)

Wednesday, June 19th: Umimi Umi (Limsa Lominsa Upper Decks; The Aftcastle)

Items:

Rare Minions (Fat Cat; Calamari; Assassin Fry; White Whittret; Dwarf Rabbit; Gold Whisker; Capybara Pup; Conditional Virtue; Clionid Larva; Chameleon; Domakin; Ephemeral Necromancer; Armadillo Bowler; Optimus Omicron; Calca; Brave New Urianger; Hippo Calf; Prince Lunatender; Adventure Basket; Teacup Kapikulu; Bacon Bits; Little Leannan; Miniature White Knight; Mandragora Queen; Sungold Talos; Silver Dasher; Petit Pteranadon; Drippy; Magitek Predator F1; Paissa Threadpuller; Paissa Patissier; Cerberpup; Fenrir Pup; Magitek Helldiver F1; Flag; Sponge Silkie; Sewer Skink; Suzusaurus; Bantam Train; Mikra Lyssa; Puffin; Plush Cushion; Royal Lunatender; Morpho; Google-Eyed Dogu; Crabe de la Crabe; Forgiven Hate; Benben Stone; Okuri Chochin; Shiromaru; Kuromaru; Repulu; Save the Princess; Exciting Dynamite)

Wind-Ups/Dress-Ups (Lakshmi; Susano; Thancred; Alisaie; Omega M/F; Magus Sisters; Anima; Kangaroo; Fuath; Grebuloff; Scarmiglione; Cagnazzo; Barbariccia; Golbez)

Thursday, June 20th: Sesena Sena (Old Gridania; Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre)

Items:

Vanity clothing (New World Jacket & Headdress; Spring Dress; High House Justacorps/Bustle; Taoist's Shirt; Cashmere Poncho; Raincoat; Hooded Fireglass Leather Vest/Adventurer's Hooded Vest; Summer Indigo Shirt; Urban/Rebel Coat; Craftsman's Singlet/Coverall Top/Apron; Dalmascan Draped Shirt; Calfskin Rider's Jacket; Frontier Jacket/Dress; Peacelover's Shirt; Cape of Happiness; Varsity Jacket/Buttoned Varsity Jacket; Ao Dai; Thavnairian/Hannish Wool Autumn Shirt; Thavnairian Wool Autumn Dress; Southern Seas Shirt; Adventuring Sweater; Boulevardier's Ruffled Shirt; Quaintrelle's Ruffled Dress; Whisperfine Woolen Coat; Salon Server's Vest/Dress Vest; Casual Jacket; Noir Longcoat; Lawless Enforcer's Jacket; Free Spirit's Jacket; Shishu Bujin Hitatare/Gozen Kochiki; Martial Artist's Vest/Sleeveless Vest)

Pajamas (Plain; Cactuar; Chocobo)

Friday, June 21st: Thiji Higuri (The Birdcage; Empyreum, Ward 15, Plot 30)

Raffle & Additional Surprises

We look forward to serving you all, and thank you for choosing the Higuri Regalia, Where There is Power in Beauty.

#thiji higuri #higuri regalia #ffxiv #high fashion #lalafell #ffxiv rp #ffxiv a realm reborn #largesse #regalia largesse #ffxiv balmung #balmung rp #crystal rp #crystal data center #rp event #raffle #radz at han #thavnair #hannish

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scotianostra · 11 months

Text

November 9th 1903 saw the birth near Pittsburgh of Margaret Fay Shaw, the American writer who did much to record the music and culture of South Uist.

Margaret Fay Shaw was one of the most notable collectors of authentic Scottish Gaelic song and traditions in the 20th century. The arrival of this young American on the island of South Uist in 1929 was the start of a deep and highly productive love affair with the language and traditions of the Gaels.

Shaw was also an outstanding photographer, and both her still pictures and cinematography contributed to an invaluable archive of island life in the 1930s. She met the folklorist John Lorne Campbell on South Uist in 1934; they married a year later and together helped to rescue vast quantities of oral tradition from oblivion.

She came of Scottish Presbyterian and liberal New England stock. The family owned a steel foundry in Pittsburgh and her parents were cultured people. Margaret was the youngest of five sisters and her early years were idyllic. Her first love was for the piano and she continued to play throughout her life.

By the age of 11, however, she was orphaned and obliged to develop the independence of character which was to lead her into a life's work far removed from her upbringing. At the age of 16, she made her first visit to Scotland at the invitation of a family friend and spent a year at school in Helensburgh, outside Glasgow, where she first heard Gaelic song.

Wanting to hear it in its "pristine" state, in 1924 she crossed the Atlantic again, this time engaging in an epic bicycle journey, which started in Oxford and ended at the Isle of Skye, where she remained for a month. It was during this trip that she began to use photography to earn a living, selling prints to newspapers, and magazines such as the Listener.

But it was not until she arrived on South Uist that she found her spiritual home. She was invited to the "big house" in Lochboisdale for dinner, and two sisters who worked there, Mairi and Peigi Macrae, were brought in to sing for the company. Margaret had never heard singing like it. For the next six years, she became their lodger and dear friend. They shared with her all of their immense stock of oral tradition which she faithfully transcribed, learning Gaelic as the work proceeded.

Her most important published work was Folksongs And Folklore Of South Uist, which has never been out of print since it was first published in full by Routledge and Kegan Paul in 1955. Not only was it a scholarly presentation of the songs and lore which she had written down during her sojourn on the island, but also an invaluable description of life in a small crofting community during the 1930s.

This classic work was undoubtedly the centrepiece of Shaw's career, though she also wrote several other books, including an autobiography, From The Alleghenies To The Hebrides.

On the neighbouring island of Barra in the early 1930s, an extraordinary social set - a kind of Bloomsbury in the Hebrides - had developed around the presence of Compton Mackenzie. One of his closest collaborators was John Lorne Campbell, who came from landed Argyllshire stock and had developed his interest in Gaelic at Oxford.

The two patricians set about producing The Book Of Barra, a collection of the island's history and traditions, to raise funds for an organisation called The Sea League, which they had established to campaign for the exclusion of trawlers from Hebridean waters.

Hearing great reports of an American woman's photography on South Uist, Campbell crossed over by ferry to seek her involvement in illustrating The Book Of Barra. He walked into the Lochboisdale Hotel one rainy evening in 1934 and found Shaw sitting at the piano; a suitably romantic initiation to a relationship which was to last for more than half a century. They married the following year and made their home on Barra until, in 1938, Campbell bought the island of Canna, where they lived for the rest of their scholarly lives. The island was given to the National Trust for Scotland in 1981, and John Lorne Campbell died in 1996.

There was nothing dry or academic, however, about Shaw. She travelled regularly to America until her late 90s. The fearsome ferry journey between Mallaig and Canna was regularly undertaken with equanimity, and she fortified herself to the end with the finest Kentucky bourbon. Her love of the Hebrides was, above all, for the values and lifestyle of the crofting people, and, particularly in South Uist in that 1930s heyday, it was deeply reciprocated. It is there that she will be laid to rest.

During her latter years she stayed at Canna House until her death at the grand old age of 101 in 2004.

#scotland #american #scots-amerocan #folklorist #writer #history

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spicyclover · 2 years

Text

Pranks

Summary: You have had enough of Charles and his stupid TikTok prank.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Charles is with his friends in the living room enjoying an aperitif in front of a football game when you finally get out of your office to prepare food. Not even a hello or anything. They all ignored you. You don’t hold it against them, but it annoys you a little.

For some days, Charles has discovered a new passion: TikTok challenges. So it goes from dancing to food and even jokes. He laughs about it with his friends, who find it highly amusing. You, a little less.

Because yes, you have been taken as a prime target. You are entitled to everything to your own annoyance.

You don’t know that you’re being filmed without your knowledge for yet another joke. When Charles finally speaks, you arrive at the kitchen counter and put your phone next to the lever to wash your hands.

“Bitch, what are we eating?”

Shocked, you turn off the running water and slowly gaze at your boyfriend. This is the last straw. You look at him silently without saying anything. Your eyes do not reveal any emotion; it is only when you decide to move that Charles begins to regret his prank.

You still answer nothing and walk to the door with his keys and coat. You slam the door and run down the apartment's stairs to reach the parking lot. You walk quickly towards Charles' Ferrari. You sit on the driver’s side and start the engine. You see in the distance Charles running in.

You don’t wait another second; you step out of the square and start heading out.

“Wait! Wait Y/n. I’m sorry,” yelled Charles trying to open the door.

Annoyed, frustrated and sad, you don’t want to listen to what he says and go out. You drive towards Carqueiranne, a small town by the sea south of France. You drive for two hours before arriving on the coast. The sun slowly begins to set away. You got the music in the car, your sunglasses on your nose, and you’re singing the lyrics all over the place. You deliberately ignore the vibrations on your phone, which you know, from Charles. You finally get to the front of your grandparents' house.

“Open, it’s me!” You say through the small intercom.

They let you in, and you go up the small slopes of the house to park on the side. You get out of your car and take off your sunglasses. You put on the hat you found in the back of the car and walk towards the garden where your grandparents are reunited with some friends for dinner.

“Sorry to barge in unannounced, but I was walking by, and I thought, why not,” you say, hugging everyone across the table.

“You are always welcome. Have you eaten?” Ask your grandmother when you get up to give you a well-stocked plate.

“No, but I’m super hungry.” You sit in the empty chair and take the wine we offer you. “Thank you.”

“So, what brings you? Is it your car? “ Ask your grandpa, looking at the car you walk in.

“No, it belongs to my boyfriend, Charles.”

“Oh, Charles. Can we find out more? How long have you guys been together? Where did you meet him?”

“It will soon be eight months that we are together,” you answer, laughing in front of the many questions everyone is asking. “He’s a racer, and we met at the Austin Grand Prix in the states.”

“Charles, as in Charles Leclerc, the Monegasque driver for Ferrari.”

“Yes, he.” You’re smiling.

Continuous conversation is good for talking to people you’ve known all your life. They don’t see Charles' girlfriend, the great Charles Leclerc. No. They see Y/n as the one and the only. You even posted a small private story on your Instagram account to celebrate this moment. You’re having a wonderful evening when you suddenly hear honking noises coming from the road. You get up to see who the crazy guy is who honks like crazy.

“Y/n,” he yells once he sees people approaching.

“Charles?” You exclaim as you get closer.

“I’m sorry! I’m an asshole.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Please come back. I am gonna stop the TikTok thing. I just realized how much you...”

“No more TikTok or prank!”

“I promise,” he says, getting closer to you to hug you. “I told the guys to fuck off. I was so scared you left me for good.”

“Well, I was thinking about it if you didn’t run after me like you did,” You respond, your head on his chest and hugging him tightly.

“If you ever let me talk to you like that. You better smack the shit out of me! If I ever speak to you like that, do you understand?”

“Yeah...”

“Good, because I love you too much, babe, to lose you.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #prank #wrong

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girlactionfigure · 7 months

Text

🔅Wed morning SUMMARY - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Real Time

🔻no overnight rockets.

🔸ISRAEL : holding strong

Regardless of some media reports and US president Biden’s statements, both Israel’s political class and the Israeli public is holding strong and steady.

There is a lot of room for political maneuvering due to the war, but for the most part the politicians are staying quiet and waiting for the future. Recent polls show the public strongly supports the war, and while they expect new elections - not in the midst of the war.

The distraught hostage families are holding their protests, doing what they think will help - and a bit of anti-govt protestors have glommed on to their events. While they get media attention, they’re not growing.

And the extremely divisive national topic of draft exemptions was brought before the High Court, but the govt and the leading parties have, for the most part, quietly taken the topic to the back rooms.

🔸LEBANON : tit-for-tat continues

The night before last, Israel attacked Hezbollah weapons warehouses in BaalBek - distant from the border.

Hezbollah's response yesterday: launching over 100 rockets and firing along the entire border.

Counterattack by the IDF deep in Lebanese territory in the Bekaa valley, hitting Hezbollah military operations buildings.

Response: IDF attacked "sensitive" Hezbollah targets, as well as a strike at Hezbollah sites in Syria.

🔸GAZA : battles and targeted attacks continue

Yesterday’s hotspot was Deir al Balah, south west Gaza. Forces maneuvered in, artillery strikes, and targeted bombing.

Continued operations in Hamad, Khan Yunis in south Gaza, including capture of an enemy compound with full stock of military weapons and supplies, battles with enemy squads including a squad trying to sneak up and bomb an IDF position.

The IDF also captured and destroyed another enemy rocket launch site.

Targeted bombing is also occurring in Rafah, targeting leadership and command locations, but giving evacuation warnings due to the concentration of civilians. For the moment Israel is not pushing into Rafah.

🔸JUDEA-SAMARIA : ongoing counter-terror

Ongoing reports of security force activity throughout Judea-Samaria, significant concentration on trouble hotspots Jenin, Tulkarm, Shechem, Tubas.

Almost daily reports of security raids capturing terror suspects - often kicking off firefights when they resist which get serious with shoulder rocket launches at buildings and drone strikes.

Not only does this capture violent militants, it gives them a target or worries about defense instead of potentially performing attacks.

🔸IRAQ : they keep trying

Iranian funded and armed Iraq Shia Militias keep trying to attack Israel and putting out press releases on their ‘success’. Because of the distance the only weapons they have are long distance suicide drones, and so far they’ve had only 1 get near Israeli airspace, which was immediately shot down by F16.

🔸HOUTHIS : major impact to the world

The Houthis are attacking commercial shipping in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden daily, successfully sinking, damaging, and causing ships to be abandoned.

World shipping costs have increased 240% since the Houthis started their attacks.

The shipping protection coalition, with the US, UK, India and various EU countries, is stopping a fair number of the attacks, but even daily airstrikes is not deterring the Houthis. Making it worse, the US/UK airstrikes on Yemen are minimally effective because they don’t know where to hit.

#Israel #Realtime War Updates #October 7 #Operation Swords of Iron #Hamas Massacre #Israel/HamasWar

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dandelionsresilience · 5 months

Text

Good News - May 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Support me on Ko-fi! Also, if you tip me on Ko-fi, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week - almost double the content!

1. New study says conservation works, providing hope for biodiversity efforts

“A new study published in Science reveals that conservation works, with conservation actions improving or slowing the decline of biodiversity in two-thirds of the cases analyzed.”

2. Monk Seal Pup Debuts in Waikīkī on Lei Day

“Endangered Hawaiian monk seal RK96 (Kaiwi) gave birth to her sixth pup on popular Kaimana Beach in Waikīkī, Oʻahu! […] Hawaiian monk seals are one of the most endangered seal species in the world, so each pup represents hope for the species’ recovery.”

3. West Coast Indigenous-led marine conservation area gets global spotlight

“A coastal First Nation is celebrating global recognition of its marine protected area after recently snagging a “blue park” designation that highlights exemplary ocean conservation efforts around the world. […] Kitasu Bay supports one of the last abundant herring spawns along the central coast, vital to the nation’s communal herring roe on kelp (ROK) fishery - which harvests the protein-rich eggs but leaves the fish alive to flourish and spawn again.”

4. The number of fish on US overfishing list reaches an all-time low. Mackerel and snapper recover

“The report states that 94% of fish stocks are not subject to overfishing, which is slightly better than a year ago. The U.S. was able to remove several important fish stocks from the overfishing list, NOAA said in a statement. […] The removal of species from the overfishing list shows the U.S. is making progress, said Rick Spinrad, NOAA’s administrator.”

5. Researchers Collaborate with the Shipping Industry to Cut Costs, Fuel Consumption and Greenhouse Gas Emissions in Shipping

“Through coordinated ship scheduling and an optimisation of ship operations and port services, the objective is to achieve a substantial increase in energy efficiency and a 10-20% reduction in fuel consumption, consequently resulting in lowered greenhouse gas emissions [and] leading to substantial economic benefits for shipping and environmental advantages for society[….]”

6. The city flower farm that is changing lives

“Heart of BS13 Flowers in Hartcliffe is part of the wider Heart of BS13 charity which tackles food insecurity in south Bristol. Profits from the flower sales to run workshops, offer volunteer and trainee placements, and create education opportunities for people from Hartcliffe.”

7. Four falcon chicks hatch in Glasgow university tower

“Members of the [Glasgow Peregrine] project hope to […] fit [the chicks] with electronic tags that will enable monitoring of their movements. Mr Simpson added: "With the identification tags we can see where they have gone, how high they fly and other information that would be really useful." In recent years the group have held peregrine watches at the university, allowing people to see the birds in their nest.”

8. 'Banana pingers' are saving whales and dolphins around the world

“[T]he Kibel brothers, Pete (a fisheries biologist) and Ben (an engineer) […] have been utilising light to protect turtles, sound to protect porpoises and electro pulses to protect sharks. [… Trials] showed reduced average catch rates of blue shark by 91%, and catch rates of pelagic stingray by 71% […as well as] a fall in the number of sea turtles being trapped by 42%.”

9. New vaccine effective against coronaviruses that haven't even emerged yet

“Researchers have developed a new vaccine technology that has been shown in mice to provide protection against a broad range of coronaviruses with potential for future disease outbreaks -- including ones we don't even know about. […] The new vaccine works by training the body's immune system to recognise specific regions of eight different coronaviruses, including SARS-CoV-1, SARS-CoV-2, and several that are currently circulating in bats and have potential to jump to humans and cause a pandemic.”

10. Grassland birds, Forest birds and Other Migratory Birds to Benefit from More Than $22 Million in Funding Throughout the Americas

“This year, more than $4.87 million in federal funds will be matched by more than $17 million in partner contributions going to 30 collaborative conservation projects in 19 countries across the Americas. “These investments will [… protect] millions of acres of diverse habitats needed by grassland birds, forest birds and shorebirds for wintering, breeding and migration,” said Service Director Martha Williams.”

April 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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