#East Co Co Records

[joeygallagher]

Norte Sidin’ - Woodie  (1998)

RIP Ryan Mitchell Wood aka Woodie

#Woodie #Norte Sidin #Yoc Influenced #Ryan Mitchell Wood #RIP Ryan Mitchell Wood #RIP Woodie #East Co Co Records #Antioch #California #1998

[hussyknee]

17/12/23 this masterlist has been completely, vetted, revamped and reformatted with free access to all reading and viewing material. It will be updated and edited periodically so please click on my username and reblog the current version directly from me if you're able.

The Big Damn List Of Stuff They Said You Didn't Know

(Yes, it's a lot. Just choose your preferred medium and then pick one.)

Podcasts

Backgrounders and Quick Facts

Interactive Maps

Teach-Out Resources

Reading Material (free)

Films and Documentaries (free)

Non-Governmental Organizations

Social Media

How You Can Help

Podcasts

Cocktails & Capitalism: The Story of Palestine Part 1, Part 3

It Could Happen Here: The Cheapest Land is Bought with Blood, Part 2, The Balfour Declaration

Citations Needed: Media narratives and consent manufacturing around Israel-Palestine and the Gaza Siege

The Deprogram: Free Palestine, ft. decolonizatepalestine.com.

Backgrounders and Quick Facts

The Palestine Academy: Palestine 101

Institute for Middle East Understanding: Explainers and Quick Facts

Interactive Maps

Visualizing Palestine

Teach-Out Resources

1) Cambridge UCU and Pal Society

Palestine 101

Intro to Palestine Film + Art + Literature

Resources for Organising and Facilitating)

2) The Jadaliya YouTube Channel of the Arab Studies Institute

Gaza in Context Teach-in series

War on Palestine podcast

Updates and Discussions of news with co-editors Noura Erakat and Mouin Rabbani.

3) The Palestine Directory

History (virtual tours, digital archives, The Palestine Oral History Project, Documenting Palestine, Queering Palestine)

Cultural History (Palestine Open Maps, Overdue Books Zine, Palestine Poster Project)

Contemporary Voices in the Arts

Get Involved: NGOs and campaigns to help and support.

3) PalQuest Interactive Encyclopedia of the Palestine Question.

4) The Palestine Remix by Al Jazeera

Books and Articles

Free reading material

My Gdrive of Palestine/Decolonization Literature (nearly all the books recommended below + books from other recommended lists)

Five free eBooks by Verso

Three Free eBooks on Palestine by Haymarket

LGBT Activist Scott Long's Google Drive of Palestine Freedom Struggle Resources

Recommended Reading List

Academic Books

Edward Said (1979) The Question of Palestine, Random House

Ilan Pappé (2002)(ed) The Israel/Palestine Question, Routledge

Ilan Pappé (2006) The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, OneWorld Publications

Ilan Pappé (2011) The Forgotten Palestinians: A History of the Palestinians in Israel, Yale University Press

Ilan Pappé (2015) The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge, Verso Books

Ilan Pappé (2017) The Biggest Prison On Earth: A History Of The Occupied Territories, OneWorld Publications

Ilan Pappé (2022) A History of Modern Palestine, Cambridge University Press

Rosemary Sayigh (2007) The Palestinians: From Peasants to Revolutionaries, Bloomsbury

Andrew Ross (2019) Stone Men: the Palestinians who Built Israel, Verso Books

Rashid Khalidi (2020) The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance 1917–2017

Ariella Azoulay (2011) From Palestine to Israel: A Photographic Record of Destruction and State Formation, 1947-1950, Pluto Press

Ariella Azoulay and Adi Ophir (2012) The One-State Condition: Occupation and Democracy in Israel/Palestine, Stanford University Press.

Jeff Halper (2010) An Israeli in Palestine: Resisting Dispossession, Redeeming Israel, Pluto Press

Jeff Halper (2015) War Against the People: Israel, the Palestinians and Global Pacification

Jeff Halper (2021) Decolonizing Israel, Liberating Palestine: Zionism, Settler Colonialism, and the Case for One Democratic State, Pluto Press

Anthony Loewenstein (2023) The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel exports the Technology of Occupation around the World

Noura Erakat (2019) Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine, Stanford University Press

Neve Gordon (2008) Israel’s Occupation, University of California Press

Joseph Massad (2006) The Persistence of the Palestinian Question: Essays on Zionism and the Palestinians, Routledge

Memoirs

Edward Said (1986) After the Last Sky: Palestine Lives, Columbia University PEdward Saidress

Edward Said (2000) Out of Place; A Memoir, First Vintage Books

Mourid Barghouti (2005) I saw Ramallah, Bloomsbury

Hatim Kanaaneh (2008) A Doctor in Galilee: The Life and Struggle of a Palestinian in Israel, Pluto Press

Raja Shehadeh (2008) Palestinian Walks: Into a Vanishing Landscape, Profile Books

Ghada Karmi (2009) In Search of Fatima: A Palestinian Story, Verso Books

Vittorio Arrigoni (2010) Gaza Stay Human, Kube Publishing

Ramzy Baroud (2010) My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story, Pluto Press

Izzeldin Abuelaish (2011) I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor’s Journey on the Road to Peace and Human Dignity, Bloomsbury

Atef Abu Saif (2015) The Drone Eats with Me: A Gaza Diary, Beacon Press

Anthologies

Voices from Gaza - Insaniyyat (The Society of Palestinian Anthropologists)

Letters From Gaza • Protean Magazine

Salma Khadra Jayyusi (1992) Anthology of Modern Palestinian Literature, Columbia University Press

ASHTAR Theatre (2010) The Gaza Monologues

Refaat Alreer (ed) (2014) Gaza Writes Back, Just World Books

Refaat Alreer, Laila El-Haddad (eds) (2015) Gaza Unsilenced, Just World Books

Cate Malek and Mateo Hoke (eds)(2015) Palestine Speaks: Narrative of Life under Occupation, Verso Books

Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing (eds) (2022) Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, Haymarket Books

Short Story Collections

Ghassan Kanafani, Hilary Kilpatrick (trans) (1968) Men in the Sun and Other Palestinian Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers

Ghassan Kanafani, Barbara Harlow, Karen E. Riley (trans) (2000) Palestine’s Children: Returning to Haifa and Other Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers

Atef Abu Saif (2014) The Book of Gaza: A City in Short Fiction, Comma Press

Samira Azzam, Ranya Abdelrahman (trans) (2022) Out Of Time: The Collected Short Stories of Samira Azzam

Sonia Sulaiman (2023) Muneera and the Moon; Stories Inspired by Palestinian Folklore

Essay Collections

Edward W. Said (2000) Reflections on Exile and Other Essays, Harvard University Press

Salim Tamari (2008) Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture, University of California Press

Fatma Kassem (2011) Palestinian Women: Narratives, histories and gendered memory, Bloombsbury

Ramzy Baroud (2019) These Chains Will Be Broken: Palestinian Stories of Struggle and Defiance in Israeli Prisons, Clarity Press

Novels

Sahar Khalifeh (1976) Wild Thorns, Saqi Books

Liyana Badr (1993) A Balcony over the Fakihani, Interlink Books

Hala Alyan (2017) Salt Houses, Harper Books

Susan Abulhawa (2011) Mornings in Jenin, Bloomsbury

Susan Abulhawa (2020) Against the Loveless World, Bloomsbury

Graphic novels

Joe Sacco (2001) Palestine

Joe Sacco (2010) Footnotes in Gaza

Naji al-Ali (2009) A Child in Palestine, Verso Books

Mohammad Sabaaneh (2021) Power Born of Dreams: My Story is Palestine, Street Noise Book*

Poetry

Fady Joudah (2008) The Earth in the Attic, Sheridan Books,

Ghassan Zaqtan, Fady Joudah (trans) (2012) Like a Straw Bird It Follows Me and Other Poems, Yale University Press

Hala Alyan (2013) Atrium: Poems, Three Rooms Press*

Mohammed El-Kurd (2021) Rifqa, Haymarket Books

Mosab Abu Toha (2022) Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza, City Lights Publishers

Tawfiq Zayyad (2023) We Are Here to Stay, Smokestack Books*

The Works of Mahmoud Darwish

Poems

Rafeef Ziadah (2011) We Teach Life, Sir

Nasser Rabah (2022) In the Endless War

Refaat Alareer (2011) If I Must Die

Hiba Abu Nada (2023) I Grant You Refuge/ Not Just Passing

[All books except the ones starred are available in my gdrive. I'm adding more each day. But please try and buy whatever you're able or borrow from the library. Most should be available in the discounted Free Palestine Reading List by Pluto Press, Verso and Haymarket Books.]

Human Rights Reports & Documents

Information on current International Court of Justice case on ‘Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem’

UN Commission of Inquiry Report 2022

UN Special Rapporteur Report on Apartheid 2022

Amnesty International Report on Apartheid 2022

Human Rights Watch Report on Apartheid 2021

Report of the United Nations Fact-Finding Mission on the Gaza Conflict’ 2009 (‘The Goldstone Report’)

Advisory Opinion on the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, International Court of Justice, 9 July 2004

Films

Documentaries

Jenin, Jenin (2003) dir. Mohammed Bakri

Massacre (2005) dir. Monica Borgmann, Lokman Slim, Hermann Theissen

Slingshot HipHop (2008) dir. Jackie Reem Salloum

Waltz with Bashir (2008) dir. Ari Folman † (also on Amazon Prime)

Tears of Gaza (2010) dir. Vibeke Løkkeberg (also on Amazon Prime)

5 Broken Cameras (2011) dir. Emad Burnat (also on Amazon Prime)

The Gatekeepers (2012) dir. Dror Moreh (also on Amazon Prime)

The Great Book Robbery (2012) | Al Jazeera English

Al Nakba (2013) | Al Jazeera (5-episode docu-series)

The Village Under the Forest (2013) dir. Mark J. Kaplan

Where Should The Birds Fly (2013) dir. Fida Qishta

Naila and the Uprising (2017) (also on Amazon Prime)

GAZA (2019) dir. Andrew McConnell and Garry Keane

Gaza Fights For Freedom (2019) dir. Abby Martin

Little Palestine: Diary Of A Siege (2021) dir. Abdallah Al Khatib 

Palestine 1920: The Other Side of the Palestinian Story (2021) | Al Jazeera World Documentary

Gaza Fights Back (2021) | MintPress News Original Documentary | dir. Dan Cohen

Innocence (2022) dir. Guy Davidi

Short Films

Fatenah (2009) dir. Ahmad Habash

Gaza-London (2009) dir. Dina Hamdan

Condom Lead (2013) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser

OBAIDA (2019) | Defence for Children Palestine

Theatrical Films

Divine Intervention (2002) | dir. Elia Suleiman (also on Netflix)

Paradise Now (2005) dir Hany Abu-Assad (also on Amazon Prime)

Lemon Tree (2008) (choose auto translate for English subs) (also on Amazon Prime)

It Must Be Heaven (2009) | dir. Elia Suleiman †

The Promise (2010) mini-series dir. Peter Kosminsky (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

Habibi (2011)* dir. Susan Youssef

Omar (2013)* dir. Hany Abu-Assad †

3000 Nights (2015)* dir. Mai Masri

Foxtrot (2017) dir. Samuel Maoz (also on Amazon Prime)

The Time that Remains (2019) dir. Elia Suleiman †

Gaza Mon Amour (2020) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser †

The Viewing Booth (2020) dir. Ra'anan Alexandrowicz (on Amazon Prime and Apple TV)

Farha (2021)* | dir. Darin J. Sallam

Palestine Film Institute Archive

All links are for free viewing. The ones marked with a star (*) can be found on Netflix, while the ones marked † can be downloaded for free from my Mega account.

If you find Guy Davidi's Innocence anywhere please let me know, I can't find it for streaming or download even to rent or buy.

In 2018, BDS urged Netflix to dump Fauda, a series created by former members of IOF death squads that legitimizes and promotes racist violence and war crimes, to no avail. Please warn others to not give this series any views. BDS has not called for a boycott of Netflix. ]

NGOs

The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) Movement

Medical Aid for Palestinians

Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor

Palestine Defence for Children International

Palestinian Feminist Collective

Al-Shabaka: The Palestinian Policy Network

Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association

Institute for Palestine Studies

Al Haq

Artists for Palestine

The Palestine Museum

Jewish Currents

B’Tselem

DAWN

Social Media

Palestnians on Tumblr

@el-shab-hussein

@killyfromblame

@apollos-olives

@fairuzfan

@palipunk

@sar-soor

@nabulsi

@ibtisams

@wearenotjustnumbers2

@90-ghost (is in Gaza right now. Please donate to his GFM and boost it.)

@tamarrud

Allies and advocates (not Palestinian)

@bloglikeanegyptian beautiful posts that read like op-eds

@vyorei daily news roundups

@luthienne resistance through prose

@decolonize-the-left scoop on the US political plans and impacts

@feluka

(Please don't expect any of these blogs to be completely devoted to Palestine allyship; they do post regularly about it but they're still personal blogs and post whatever else they feel like. Do not harrass them.)

Gaza journalists

Motaz Azaiza IG: @motaz_azaiza | Twitter: @azaizamotaz9 | TikTok: _motaz.azaiza (left Gaza as of Jan 23)

Bisan Owda IG and TikTok: wizard_bisan1 | Twitter: @wizardbisan

Saleh Aljafarawi IG: @saleh_aljafarawi | Twitter: @S_Aljafarawi | TikTok: @saleh_aljafarawi97

Plestia Alaqad IG: @byplestia | TikTok: @plestiaaqad (left Gaza)

Wael Al-Dahdouh IG: @wael_eldahdouh | Twitter: @WaelDahdouh (left Gaza as of Jan 13)

Hind Khoudary IG: @hindkhoudary | Twitter: @Hind_Gaza

Ismail Jood IG and TikTok: @ismail.jood (announced end of coverage on Jan 25)

Yara Eid IG: @eid_yara | Twitter: @yaraeid_

Eye on Palestine IG: @eye.on.palestine | Twitter: @EyeonPalestine | TikTok: @eyes.on.palestine

Muhammad Shehada Twitter: @muhammadshehad2

(Edit: even though some journos have evacuated, the footage up to the end of their reporting is up on their social media, and they're also doing urgent fundraisers to get their families and friends to safety. Please donate or share their posts.)

News organisations

The Electronic Intifada Twitter: @intifada | IG: @electronicintifada

Quds News Network Twitter and Telegram: @QudsNen | IG: @qudsn (Arabic)

Times of Gaza IG: @timesofgaza | Twitter: @Timesofgaza | Telegram: @TIMESOFGAZA

The Palestine Chronicle Twitter: @PalestineChron | IG: @palestinechron | @palestinechronicle

Al-Jazeera Twitter: @AJEnglish | IG and TikTok: @aljazeeraenglish, @ajplus

Middle East Eye IG and TikTok: @middleeasteye | Twitter: @MiddleEastEye

Democracy Now Twitter and IG: @democracynow TikTok: @democracynow.org

Mondoweiss IG and TikTok: @mondoweiss | Twitter: @Mondoweiss

The Intercept Twitter and IG: @theintercept

MintPress Twitter: @MintPressNews | IG: mintpress

Novara Media Twitter and IG: @novaramedia

Truthout Twitter and IG: @truthout

Palestnians on Other Social Media

Mouin Rabbani: Middle East analyst specializing in the Arab-Israeli conflict and Palestinian affairs. Twitter: @MouinRabbani

Noura Erakat: Legal scholar, human rights attorney, specialising in Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Twitter: @4noura | IG: @nouraerakat | (http://www.nouraerakat.com/)

Hebh Jamal: Journalist in Germany. IG and Twitter: @hebh_jamal

Ghada Sasa: PhD candidate in International Relations, green colonialism, and Islam in Canada. Twitter: @sasa_ghada | IG: @ghadasasa48

Taleed El Sabawi: Assistant professor of law and researcher in public health. Twitter: @el_sabawi | IG

Lexi Alexander: Filmmaker and activist. Twitter: @LexiAlex | IG: @lexialexander1

Mariam Barghouti: Writer, blogger, researcher, and journalist. Twitter: @MariamBarghouti | IG: @mariambarghouti

Rasha Abdulhadi: Queer poet, author and cultural organizer. Twitter: @rashaabdulhadi

Mohammed el-Kurd: Writer and activist from Jerusalem. IG: @mohammedelkurd | Twitter: @m7mdkurd

Ramy Abdu: Founder and Chairman of the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor. Twitter: @RamyAbdu

Subhi: Founder of The Palestine Academy website. IG: @sbeih.jpg |TikTok @iamsbeih | Twitter: @iamsbeih

Allies

Lowkey (Kareem Dennis): Rapper, activist, video and podcast host for MintPress. Twitter: @LowkeyOnline IG: @lowkeyonline

Francesca Albanese: UN Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Territories. Twitter: @FranceskAlbs

Sana Saeed: Journalist and media critic, host and senior producer at Al-Jazeera Plus. IG: @sanaface | Twitter: @SanaSaeed

Shailja Patel: Poet, playwright, activist, founding member of Kenyans For Peace, Truth and Justice. Twitter: @shailjapatel

Jairo I. Fúnez-Flores: Researcher in curriculum studies, decolonial theory, social movements. Twitter: @Jairo_I_Funez

Jack Dodson: Journalist and Filmmaker. Twitter: @JackDodson IG: @jdodson4

Imani Barbarin: Writer, public speaker, and disability rights activist. IG: @crutches_and_spice | Twitter: @Imani_Barbarin | TikTok: @crutches_and_spice

Jewish Allies

Katie Halper: US comedian, writer, filmmaker, podcaster, and political commentator. IG and Twitter: @kthalps

Amanda Gelender: Writer. Twitter: @agelender | (https://agelender.medium.com/)

Yoav Litvin: Jerusalem-born Writer and Photographer. IG and Twitter: @nookyelur | (yoavlitvin.com)

Alana Lentin: Professor of Cultural and Social Analysis at Western Sydney University. Twitter: @alanalentin

Gideon Levy: anti-Zionist Israeli journalist and activist. Twitter: @gideonle

How You Can Help Palestine

How to be an Ally 101

📢: Global Strike Guide

If any links are broken let me know. Or pull up the current post to check whether it's fixed.

"Knowledge is Israel's worst enemy. Awareness is Israel's most hated and feared foe. That's why Israel bombs a university: it wants to kill openness and determination to refuse living under injustice and racism."

— Dr. Refaat Alareer, (martyred Dec 6, 2023)

From River To The Sea Palestine Will Be Free 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

-----

Edit 1: took the first video down because turns out the animator is a terf and it links to her blog. Really sorry for any distress.

Edit 2: All recommended readings + Haymarket recommendations + essential decolonization texts have been uploaded to my linked gdrive. I will adding more periodically. Please do buy or check them out from the library if possible, but this post was made for and by poor and gatekept Global South bitches like me.

Some have complained about the memes being disrespectful. You're actually legally obligated to make fun of Israeli propaganda and Zionists. I don't make the rules.

Edit 3: "The river to the sea" does not mean the expulsion of Jews from Palestine. Believing that is genocide apologia.

Edit 4: Gazans have specifically asked us to put every effort into pushing for a ceasefire instead of donations. "Raising humanitarian aid" is a grift Western governments are pushing right now to deflect from the fact that they're sending billions to Israel to keep carpet bombing Gazans. As long as the blockades are still in place there will never be enough aid for two million people. (UPDATE: PLEASE DONATE to the Gazan's GoFundMe fundraisers to help them buy food and get out of Rafah into Egypt. E-SIMs, food and medical supplies are also essential. Please donate to the orgs linked in the How You Can Help. Go on the strikes. DO NOT STOP PROTESTING.)

Edit 5: Google drive link for academic books folder has been fixed. Also have added a ton of resources to all the other folders so please check them out.

Edit 6: Added interactive maps, Jadaliya channel, and masterlists of donation links and protest support and of factsheets.

Edit 7: Complete reformatting

The twitter accounts I reposted as it was given to me and I just now realized it had too many Israeli voices and almost none of the Palestinians I'm following, so it's being edited. (Update: done!) also removed sources like Jewish Voices of Peace and Breaking the Silence that do good work but have come under fair criticism from Palestinians.

Edit 8: Complete revamping of the social media section. It now reflects my own following list.

Edit 9: removed some more problematic people from the allies list. Remember that the 2SS is a grift that's used to normalize violence and occupation, kids. Supporting the one-state solution is lowest possible bar for allyship. It's "Free Palestine" not "Free half of Palestine and hope Israel doesn't go right back to killing them".

Edit 10: added The Palestine Directory + Al Jazeera documentary + Addameer. This "100 links per post" thing sucks.

Edit 11: more documentaries and films

Edit 12: reformatted reading list

Edit 13: had to remove @palipunk's masterlist to add another podcast. It's their pinned post and has more resources Palestinian culture and crafts if you want to check it out

Edit 14 6th May '24: I've stopped updating this masterlist so some things, like journalists still left in Gaza and how to support the student protests are missing. I've had to take a step back and am no longer able to track these things down on my own, and I've hit the '100 links per post' limit, but if you can leave suggestions for updates along with links in either the replies or my asks I will try and add them.

#free palestine #palestine resources #palestine reading list #decolonization #israel palestine conflict #israel palestine war #british empire #american imperialism #apartheid #social justice #middle east history #MENA #arab history #anti zionism #palestinian art #palestinian history #palestinian culture #palestinian genocide #al nakba #ethnic cleansing #war crimes #racism #imperialism #colonialism #british colonialism #knee of huss #ask to tag #Youtube

[donospl]

Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 1 odcinek 2]

premierowa emisja 15 lutego 2023 – 18:00 Graliśmy: Little North  „Elna” z albumu “Wide Open” – April Records Auzins / Cudars /Arutyunyan “Road To Nowhere” z albumu “Tutti Off Duty”  –  Skani Vanessa Wagner “Philip Glass – Etude 2” z albumu “Mirrored” – Infinite Editions Johanna Summer “Grieg” z albumu “Resonanzen” – ACT Music Lakecia Benjamin “Moods” z albumu „Phoenix” – Whirlwind…

View On WordPress

#Abbie Finn #ACT Music #Andrew Cyrille #April Records #Bill Runge #Brother Mister #Christian McBride #Co w jazzie piszczy #East Axis #Edward Grieg #Gerald Cleaver #Holly Burke #Infinite Editions #Intakt Records #Ivars Arutyunyan #Johanna Summer #Karlis Auzins #Kevin Ray #Lakecja Benjamin #Linda Lee Thomas #Little North #Mack Avenue #Matiss Cudars #Matthew Shipp #Numun #Philip Glass #Scott Robinson #Skani #Vanessa Wagner #Whirlwind Recordings

[reasonsforhope]

"The Seychelles has become a major tourist destination for beachgoing and scuba diving, but it’s not only humans that are beginning to flock to this island.

In what marine biologists have described as a “phenomenal finding,” a survey of whales around the territorial waters of this archipelagic nation revealed the presence of blue whales—over a dozen.

It’s the first time they’ve been seen in these warm seas since 1966, and it’s a wonderful milestone in a long and increasingly successful recovery for the world’s largest animal.

The Seychelles are located in the Indian Ocean off the east coast of Africa, and they were historically a stopover point for Soviet whalers en route to Antarctica. The years 1963 to 1966 were particularly difficult for whales here, and many were taken before the International Convention on the Regulation of Whaling put an end to the practice of hunting baleen whales in 1973.

Since 1966, no dedicated investigation of whales in the Seychelles had been made until 2020, when a partnership of four universities conducted an acoustic survey over the period of two years.

They made five different sightings of groups of up to 10 animals.

“This was a phenomenal finding,” Jeremy Kiszka, a co-author of the paper from Florida International University, wrote in The Conversation. “We were prepared to not see any blue whales due to the high level of hunting that occurred fairly recently and absolutely no information was available since the last blue whale was killed in the region in 1964.” ...

The team behind the survey sent images taken of the whales’ dorsal sides to a database to see if any of them had been recorded before, and amid the reel, not a single one was a match with any other photographed whale.

This, the team suggests, means they have probably never been seen before, which for a species that big might seem strange, but along with there being only 5,000 to 15,000 on Earth, they migrate vast distances while diving deep, making recording their movements incredibly challenging.

The survey identified 23 whale species in total using hydroponic mics over 2 years with peak activity coming between December and April. This is a fascinating finding that suggests something about the seas around the Seychelles makes for excellent whale habitat."

-via Good News Network, April 30, 2024

#whales #blue whales #animals #marine life #marine biology #sea creatures #cetacean #seychelles #indian ocean #conservation #endangered species #whaling #conservation news #climate hope #good news #hope

[silverybees]

Interview with writer of Sherlock & Co podcast

The hosts of the I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere podcast have just published a fantastic long-form audio interview with Joel Emery, writer and co-creator of Sherlock & Co.

A few interesting notes in no particular order:

Their Watson, Paul Waggott, lives New Zealand, so he's recorded remotely

Atmos was recorded on real Baker St, on the tube and local buses

They plan to keep Holmes and Watson under one roof :-)

They haven't cast Mycroft or Lestrade yet, are holding out introducing them to a story where they're really highlighted. Since the podcast is doing really well, they're hoping maybe to get someone cool to do those roles

Updating the stories involves giving the women more agency, gender-swapping some

No grand story arc is planned (the idea of it stresses Joel out) and Moriarty isn't going to have threads out to all over the other stories

They'll be doing the novels but figuring out how to do them concisely because 12 episodes would be too much to keep track of

Audio storytelling is handy because you can, say, set The Greek Interpreter in Greece without having to take a crew (or anybody) to an actual location

Taking some stories where there are upper-class, rich folks and setting them amongst more ordinary people (so Thor Bridge isn't going to be set in the grand gardens of a country estate, rather in East London )

Interestingly they acknowledge the three audiences:

the Sherlockian audience who'll want Sherlock Holmes Content

the "Johnlock community" audience who is generally younger and want "diversity to be explored in all its forms" and wants something flamboyant and different and want "that relationship between the two men to be intimate in some respects, but really powerful and centre-stage"

and the general podcast-listening public, listening to the podcast on their commute, just as the original fans of Conan Doyle read the stories in the Strand, on theirs

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co

[drabblesandimagines]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy mild spice #death island leon #DI Leon Kennedy

[deadsetobsessions]

Batfam as characters in one of those manhwas if they each got killed and transmigrated (by themselves, there is no shipping in this post):

Alfred

The Head Butler

The hidden veteran

The grandfather with a lot of money

Bruce Wayne

Tired Dad of the Villainess (bc let’s be real he’s got a pretty decent track record of making sure his kids don’t turn into outright war criminals)

Father of the male lead

Maybe the cold northern duke but this man would not be falling in love with anyone tbh

Dick Grayson

Male lead frfr

The villainess

Older brother of the villainess (he’s damn versatile)

Tragic second lead is also a good contender but only

Knight Captain of the empire or whatever but only bc Dick was a cop once

Wise mentor/friend (who’s probably an immortal)

Crown prince in disguise

Barbara Gordon

Master of the magic tower

Merchant guild leader

Spy network owner

King maker

Shadow ruler

A crown Princess, but only bc Barbara Gordon’s letting whoever the king/queen is remain in charge so she doesn’t have to deal with the annoying courtiers

Cassandra Cain

The OG female lead

The OP SAINTESS (the good ones)

THE LOVE INTEREST (bc I have a major crush on her kickassery)

The villainess’ royal ally/friend bc Cassandra deserves to be treated like royalty dammit

Crown Princess that had to take over the kingdom bc her parents sucked at their job

Aura Master who’s underestimated bc she’s small

Magician of the tower, second in command

Information Broker, maybe

Jason Todd

The villainess (good route OR bad route)

The mercenary king

The dragon slayer

The male lead that’s probably a red flag but he’s hot and totally respectful of the love interest so you just kind of poof the homicide away. What murder?

Crown Prince that raises the education levels of the kingdom

Tim Drake

The villainess. Like. THE villainess. War crimes for the good of the people? Yes.

The villainess that takes over the kingdom and overthrows her shitty king-father

Revolutionary co-leader

Prolly opens coffee franchises to make hella bank

Spy network owner?

That one male lead with the super tragic background but is also like committing crimes to help his kingdom or something

The Sleeping Beauty Prince

Stephanie Brown

CROWN PRINCESS

The villainess that was neglected but turns everyone to her side but the end of the manhwa

Revolutionary Queen

Mercenary Queen

Aura Master/Sword Master

Legendary mage or the tower (Steph would be a menace with magic let’s be real)

Salon Owner

Duke Thomas

The main lead who is seen escaping the palace guards in the first two episodes/chapters

Roguish Crown Prince (full of respect women juice obv.)

Rebellion leader who used to be the king’s trusted knight in shiny armor

Mercenary King

Damian Wayne

Sword master, genius prince of the kingdom

Beast tamer

Dragon warrior (let’s be real, Damian would lose it over having an actual dragons)

Serious Crown Prince (with kennels of “hunting dogs” that we all know is there for him to cuddle)

Cold Northern Duke but he’s cold frfr bc his family isn’t with him

Former assassin turned Duke of the east or something

The famous painter

Alternatively, they all say “fuck it, I don’t fuck with monarchies” and start a revolution.

I wrote this pretty late so it might be off lmfao

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #batfamily #dick Grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing #oracle dc #cassandra cain #Black Bat #Stephanie Brown #tim drake #the spoiler #red Robin #duke thomas #red hood #Jason Todd #the signal #damian wayne #Robin

[atinylittlepain]

Crush On You

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

wordcount | 9K

a/n | hi folks, i come bearing part two of my hungry hearts series. she's long, okay? i'm sorry, the spirit of young joel possessed me what can i say. hope y'all enjoy this one, come tell me what you think in my inbox! also much love, much thanks to my trenchcoat brother @northernbluess for beta-reading this baby - love you, cousin

.....................................

“Well, well, look who has graced us with her presence. How’d you scare her out of hiding, Miller?”

“Oh, you know, black mail, extortion, a cattle prod.” Her scowl is lost on the pair as Mikey Donahue pulls Joel into a hug that’s more of a gruff back slap than anything else before promptly putting a beer in his hand. Meanwhile, she’s already regretting her decision to come along, trying to temper her grimace when Mikey hooks his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his side, grinning big and boozy down at her.

“Good to see you, big city. College suits you.” She has to laugh, seeing as Mikey didn’t have the time of day for her in high school and now he seems to be all too intent on laying the charm on thick.

“Thanks, Mikey, that’s real, uh, kind of you.” Before Mikey can reply with what she’s sure would be an equally charming remark, Joel curls his fingers in the neck of his t-shirt to pry him away from her, steering him further into the house.

“Alright, Mike, don’t scare her off, I just got her in the door. C’mon, man, I was promised a keg stand here.” All she gets from Joel is one more glance over his shoulder before she has been left entirely alone in a sea of her old classmates, with quite literally no escape route, considering she drove here in Joel’s rusted-out pick-up truck. 

She fields a few polite hellos, trying her best to move through the house as unnoticed as possible to get to the backyard and away from the smell of sweat and socially anxious bodies. Mercifully, there’s only a few people outside, couples all tangled up and people smoking around the edge of the pool. She forgot Mikey Donahue had a pool, though she supposes his parents were always notorious for their money and how visible they made it. 

This wasn’t her scene in high school, and it certainly isn’t now. Honestly, she’s not sure why she agreed to go with Joel in the first place. Oh yeah, Lisa-Anne. She kind of wishes she let Lisa-Anne have this one. 

“Hey, big city, there you are!” Mikey again, this time with no Joel to wrangle him off and away from her. He really is the quintessential all-american boy, home from some expensive east coast school that she can’t remember the name of, the whole blonde and blue eye thing, floppy and smiley like a well-bred golden retriever. She isn’t quite sure where this sudden chumminess with her has come from, they certainly didn’t run in the same circles as teenagers. But there isn’t much room to ponder it when he has once again slung his arm around her, his face so close to hers that she can smell the pabst blue ribbon he probably just tossed back. 

“Remind me what you’re studying all the way up in Chicago?” She knows for a fact that drunk Mikey has a temper, like, punching holes in the walls of his parents’ basement temper, so she makes no move to push him away, though she’d really like nothing more right now, trying and failing to create even an inch more of distance between them. Mikey doesn’t like that, dropping his arm to sling low around her waist, his fingers brushing against the bare skin between her jean shorts and where the fabric of her t-shirt has rucked up. 

“I’m studying English.” It comes out smaller and quieter than she would like it to, her throat tightening with something like panic at Mikey’s continued advancements. On his part, Mikey seems to find the whole thing amusing, tossing his head back in a hard laugh.

“That’s right, always a little bookworm, weren’t you? Tell me this, what the hell can you even do with an English degree, big city?” 

“You can do a lot of things with an English degree, Mike.” She’s just pissed off enough to finally yank out of his grip, sending him stumbling a few feet back, though he’s quick to recover with a laugh that sounds a little less friendly. 

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been home, big city, so I’m gonna do you a favor and pretend like that was just an accident.” 

“Hey, Mike, where’d you go, man?” She’s never been so happy to hear Joel’s voice in her life, she thinks, taking one more subtle step back as he sidles up next to Mikey and slings his arm around his shoulders. The light from inside the house casts shadows over Joel’s forearm where it’s draped against Mikey’s chest, and she can see the tendons jumping there from how hard he’s holding onto him, though it otherwise looks like a friendly embrace.

“Was just catching up with that one, Miller, so you can fuck right off, thanks.” And there it is. She feels herself wince with the bite of Mikey’s words, though Joel stays completely calm, a placid and altogether unsettling smile quirking up his mouth. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, man. Why don’t you leave the nice girl alone and go sleep it off before you do something you’re gonna regret?” She should probably do something other than stand there and stare at what is probably, definitely about to become a bad scene, a small crowd starting to form around them already. But she feels frozen where she stands, her eyes darting between Mikey’s sneer, and Joel’s ticking jaw. 

“And who’s gonna make me regret it, Miller, huh? You?” Because they are apparently still children, the crowd of people let out a low chorus of ooooh at that. And then for a moment it’s perfectly silent and perfectly still, Joel and Mikey staring each other down in a strange, half-way thing between an embrace and a strangle-hold. But by the time she blinks again, the both of them have swung, Mikey missing and Joel making clipped contact with the side of Mikey’s jaw. It’s just enough to send Mikey stumbling back and over the edge of the pool, and because he’s still got a fist clenched in Joel’s shirt, he gets yanked in after him. 

The crowd is quick to disperse after such a disappointing climax to their little spat, and while Mikey hauls himself out of the pool on the other side like a drowned cat, she finds herself offering out her hand to an equally sodden Joel. He drips all over her sneakers when he gets out, his flannel clinging to his torso, damp and darkened, something she tries not to pay too much attention to. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m not the one who just fell into a pool.” He drags a hand through his hair to get it slicked back out of his face, water still dripping off the tip of his nose as he looks at her. For a moment, she thinks that he looks small, a slight shiver in his shoulders, his eyes wide and his lashes all stuck together. He looks young, and he’s looking at her and only her. 

“I’m fine, Cher, let’s get out of here, huh? This party is dead anyways.” With a quick shake back of his shoulders and a thumb swiped under his nose, that familiar front has already slipped back into place. But she’s fine with it if it means they’re going to get out of this place, letting Joel lead the barreling way back through the house, his sneakers squeaking and squelching with every step. And even though he looks ridiculous, dripping all over the hardwood floors of Mikey’s parents’ house, he keeps his chin tilted up like he owns the place and his shoulders squared off as broad as his leanness will allow, easily parting a path for them through the crowd and out onto the front lawn. 

Neither of them speak when they get into the car, leaving the radio off as the engine splutters to life and they start winding their way back out of the wealthy neighborhood. She wants to say something, to thank him, to ask him if he’s sure that he’s okay, but she can’t find the right words, twisting her hands in her lap and watching the way the truck’s headlights spill out over the road. 

“So you’re really going for it out in Chicago?” His voice breaking the silence startles her out of her simmering mind, and when she glances over at him, he only offers her a quick side sweep of his eyes before he focuses back on the road. 

“You said you’re studying English?” He heard that? How long was he watching her and Mikey?

“Oh, um, yeah, yes.” She keeps her focus on the knuckles of his hand draped over the top of the steering wheel, a subtle tension and flexion to his grip.

“Gonna be a big shot writer, right? That was always your dream, wasn’t it?”

“When I was a kid, yeah. I don’t know, I’ll probably end up teaching, though I think my parents expect me to just wind up married and pregnant by the end of it anyways.” He snorts at that, shaking his head though he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“You were always writing stories, Cherry.”

“Uh-huh.” Honestly, she’s surprised he held onto that fact, the ratty composition books she carried around everywhere as a child, and well into her teens too. 

“Ever write one about me?” 

“Oh, sure.” 

“Wait, really?” His eyes finally dart over to her, eyebrows shot up his forehead and she has to bite back a laugh.

“Yeah, it was about your astonishing humility and non-existent ego.” She can barely get it out with a straight face, already dissolving into another laugh as Joel rolls his eyes at her dig. 

“Alright, alright, guess I walked into that one.” They’ve just pulled up in front of her house, Joel flicking off the headlights so her parents don’t notice. For once, she’s in no hurry to get away from him, an honestly foreign feeling as they sit in his truck. He’s still soaking wet, his hair starting to stick up every which way from how it’s drying, though he seems perfectly content to keep staring at her, something like a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“You don’t like being home very much, do you, Cherry?” 

“I really don’t, no.” She says it on a long sigh, no idea why she’s inclined to be honest with him like that. 

“How come?” 

“I feel like no one takes me seriously down here.” 

“I do.”

“Joel.”

“What? I do.”

“How can that possibly be true when you still call me a name that came from me snorting soda out of my nose?” 

“Okay, maybe originally it came from that, but that’s not why I call you it now, not really.”

“Please enlighten me then, why do you call me that?” His brow furrows for a moment, like he’s choosing his words carefully, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally answers.

“Because– because I just do, okay? But I do take you seriously, for the record.” She leans her head back on the seatrest, tilting her chin to look at him where he has his arm hanging over the steering wheel, his full body leaning and twisting toward her.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and I’m gonna want a signed copy of your first book.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher. I probably won’t read it, but I reckon it’ll be worth something when you get all famous and shit.”

“Lovely, Joel, thanks so much for that.” He shrugs, though his gaze stays steady with hers, and it happens again, that softening around the edges, that kid she remembers. And again, it’s gone in a flash, Joel suddenly leaning toward her in an unexpected way. And, well, she reacts before she can really think.

“Jesus! What the fuck, Cher?” He has bodily recoiled from her back into the driver’s side, his palm cupping his cheek where she just landed a hard smack with the flat of her hand. 

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck? What the hell was that, Joel?”

“I don’t– I thought we were having a– a nice moment!” She goes to open the passenger side door, but Joel is quick to reach over and shut it again like a petulant child, eliciting a bitter laugh from her.

“We were until you pulled that shit. I’m not one of your little housewives that you can do whatever you want with.” This time, he doesn’t try to stop her when she clambers out of the truck, though he isn’t quite finished yet. 

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! This ain’t playing fair!” She quickly shushes him before he starts to wake up half the neighborhood with his exclamations, only staying close enough to the car so she can whisper yell back at him.

“I’m not playing, Joel. Do me a favor and just stay away from me, why don’t you?”

…

While Sarah may not be the strongest batter, which is okay because Joel is working with her on it most afternoons, she makes for a mean third baseman, though part of him secretly wishes she played shortstop more often. And though he’s usually busy shouting reminders and tips at her from the bleachers, Joel is a bit preoccupied today watching something else, or someone else is more like it. 

He’s never been so pissed at chain link fencing in his life for obscuring his view of her, standing in front of the bleachers with her arms crossed and her hip cocked out as she watches the game from behind sunglasses and a ball cap. But he’s also never been more grateful for the Austin swelter because it means that she’s in a tank top and jean shorts, and he’s pretty sure his mind is starting to short-circuit because it looks to him like Cherry picked up some tattoos in the last seventeen years. He can’t tell what they are from this distance, something wrapped over her right shoulder and down her bicep, and, fuck him, something on the top of her right thigh. So maybe he’s craning his neck a little to try to make out what the ink is, and maybe he should be paying more attention to the game, because when there’s suddenly some sort of scuffle on the field between the umpire and one of Sarah’s coaches, he has no clue what he missed. 

“That was an out, are you kidding me? She tagged her!” He’s sitting close enough to third that he’s pretty sure it’s Ellie, at least he thinks that was her name, who the umpire and the coach are arguing over whether Sarah got her out or not before she stepped on third. Yeah, definitely Ellie, because here comes Cherry from the bleachers on the other side. 

“Her foot was on the base when she tagged her, that wasn’t an out!” The umpire looks at Cherry with an amount of exasperation that tells Joel they’ve interacted before. Cherry, meanwhile, has her cap off and her sunglasses slanted down her nose to look at the ump with all the kindness of a parole officer.

“Ma’am please let us handle this and return to the bleachers.” He’s not sure why he decides to get involved, it’s not like he actually saw what happened. But the combination of it being Sarah who either did or didn’t get Ellie out and his own small desire to get a little closer to Cherry, regardless of the context, has him up off the bleachers and hooking his fingers through the chain link fence. 

“I’m pretty sure it was an out, I had a better view of it than you did, Cher.” Judging by the way she scoffs and shakes her head, he probably shouldn’t have called her that, though there isn’t much time to ponder that when she’s walking over to him and getting as up in his face as she can with the thin mesh of chain link separating them. 

“Don’t Cher me, Joel.”

“Mom, please, it’s fine, I’m pretty sure she got me before I tagged up.” Ellie and Sarah both look pretty ready for this situation to be over, huffing and rolling their eyes at their parents’ strange display. 

“Els, you are not out, okay? You’re gonna stay on third and the game is gonna get going again–”

“Always were a sore loser.” It just slips out, and it isn’t even true. He was the sore loser, and he knows it, and judging by the way Cherry whips back around to glare at him, he has just incurred her admittedly deserved wrath. 

“Oh, that is real rich coming from you, Joel Miller, you are–”

“Alright, folks, we don’t have time for this and I’m going to have to ask you both to wait in the parking lot while we finish this game.”

“What?” They say it at nearly the same time to the umpire, who just shakes his head at them and points toward the parking lot next to the ball field. 

“Both of you, out of here, or I’m going to disqualify both of your girls from playing.” Well, really no arguing with that, especially not when Sarah and Ellie are giving them both pleading looks from behind the umpire. Cherry doesn’t give him another look, simply mutters an apology to the umpire before heading off toward the parking lot. And all he can do is sheepishly follow behind her with his own apology and a gruff play well offered to Sarah who just rolls her eyes at him.

No, not exactly what he had in mind for their second meeting.

He probably shouldn’t, but since he already seems to be playing the fool, he figures he doesn’t have much to lose in approaching her where she’s sitting in the popped-open trunk of her minivan, her sunglasses pushed up to the crown of her head and her legs swinging idly over the lip of the trunk. 

“I’m, uh, sorry about all that.” Her eyebrows raise, a weary look that makes something hot and slippery curl in his gut, a little bashful under her gaze. 

“I am too, I guess. They probably shouldn’t let us on the field together, huh?” Her words crack a bit dryly with the curl of her smile, instant relief washing over him in mirroring her expression. 

“No, I reckon not.” She doesn’t say anything more, just scoots her hips to one side and pats the space next to her, an invitation he tries not to seem so eager to take as he sits down beside her. Close enough now that he can get a better look at the tattoo on her arm and her thigh. Something beating hard in his chest and tightening up his throat when he realizes that it’s a bouquet of chrysanthemums etched into her thigh. And on her arm, spiraling over her bicep and across her shoulder is a branch of a cherry tree.

…

There’s no other option on a Sunday. She wishes more than anything that there was, but she knows that everywhere else is closed. 

“Thatcher’s auto and towing, how can I help you?” She hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks, not since that night they went to Mikey Donahue’s party. She even started picking Will up herself for dinner to avoid having him anywhere near her, pointedly ignoring the his shouts of her name from the ball field whenever she does. So hearing his voice gives her pause, and she nearly hangs the payphone back up, but she really has no other option right now.

“Uh, hi, my car broke down and I need to get it towed.”

“Cherry?” 

“Um, yes?” There’s a long pause on the other end, though she’s pretty sure she can hear him let out a deep sigh. 

“Shit, okay, where are you?”

“I’m out by the new mall, um, I think right off of eighth street? I don’t know what’s wrong with it, honestly it just sort of– gave out on me.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in five, just stay right where you are.” 

“Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere else, Joel.” She can hear the sound of something metal clanging around in the background, followed by Joel letting out a low curse.

“Right, yeah, just hang tight.” With that, he hangs up with a quiet click, and all that’s left to do is walk the two blocks back to her car. Technically, it’s her mom’s car, her old station wagon that had been given to her as a graduation gift, dark green with wood paneling and a dent in the back bumper that she has somehow managed to hide from both of her parents for a year now. She gives the car another once over, definitely nothing wrong with her tires, and she’s not even going to pretend like she’d know what’s going on under the hood, so she settles against the side of the car door and bides her time watching the slow trickle of traffic pass by.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, another record-breaking day of heat, she’s pretty sure. At least it feels that way, her eyes set in a perpetual squint under the hard beat of the sun as she swipes at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her wrist. Though mercifully she’s not waiting for long when a truck with the Thatcher’s Auto logo on the side comes pulling up alongside where she had managed to park her car on the shoulder of the road. He hops out of the truck, dressed in a pair of coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, a white wife beater on top that’s smeared with grease stains, and she has to remind herself that she’s still pissed at him when his dimple pops with a sheepish smile as he approaches her, tugging the baseball cap off his head to run a hand through his hair before settling his hat on backwards.

“Hey, Cherry, um, how– how have you been?” 

“I’ve been better, Joel, considering that my car won’t even start.” Nope, she’s not going to give him anything else, setting her jaw in a hard line and jerking her chin back over her shoulder as if to say get on with it. Joel seems to take the hint, giving her a jerky nod before taking a quick look around her car. 

“Well, your tires look fine. Lemme pop the hood and see if it’s anything obvious.” She hopes more than anything that it is something obvious, that she isn’t going to have to drive back to the shop with him, but judging by the way Joel lets the hood close with a shake of his head, she doesn’t think she has gotten so lucky. 

“I don’t know, Cher, I think you’re gonna have to come back to the shop with me so I can take a closer look.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to hold back a frustrated groan before she finally looks at Joel again. 

“Okay, fine, and how long is that gonna take, do you think?”

“Got a few other cars I have to take care of first, but it shouldn’t be too long. You okay to wait at the shop?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, so yeah.” She waits in the cab of the truck while Joel hitches her car up, keeping her eyes flicked down and out of the passenger window when he gets back in. 

“You giving me the silent treatment?”

“No, I just don’t have anything to say to you.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, but she can hear the huff of a sigh he lets out before he cranks the truck into drive. He doesn’t try to talk to her for the rest of the drive, and she keeps her arms crossed pointedly in front of her chest, her whole body angled toward the passenger-side door. However, when they pull into the garage at Thatcher’s and she tries to get out, the lock on her door promptly clicks down and the handle won’t budge. 

“Can we just talk for a second, Cher?” She pries the lock back open, but just as soon as she does, Joel clicks it back into place, forcing her to finally glare at him. His brow is furrowed and his knee is bouncing in his seat, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d guess that he’s nervous. 

“Fine, what is so important that you have to lock me into your truck like a goddamn serial killer?”

“Wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t being so goddamn stubborn to begin with.” She lets out a clipped bark of laughter at that, once again pulling the lock up on her own to try to get out, and once again, like a deranged comedy act, he clicks it back into place before she can even get her fingers around the handle. 

“Joel Miller, I swear to God, if you don’t let me out of this car right now I’m going to scream.”

“I just– just– fuck, Cherry, I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” That gives her pause. There have been only two other times in her life that Joel has apologized to her. The first time was when they were eight years old, and really, she thinks, it shouldn’t count because his mom forced him to, her hand between his small shoulder blades nudging him forward to say sorry for pulling on her braid from the pew behind her at church and making her cry. 

The second time, they were ten. That one does count. She was sitting on the swings at the playground down the street, scribbling in her notebook when a little crew of boys in the grade above her came out of nowhere and started heckling her. Joel showed up on his bike as she was picking up the tattered pages and scraps of what had been the story she was working on in her notebook. She remembers that she was trying really hard not to cry in front of him when he knelt down beside her to help her gather the torn pieces, small hands trying to make it right. He had nothing to be sorry for, but he still said that he was real sorry, Cher, quiet, and sounding much older and wearier than a ten-year-old should. That one counts. But otherwise, those words coming out of his mouth have been non-existent, so she can’t help but fall silent to hear just what he has to say. 

“You’re sorry?” He takes off his cap again, setting it down on the dash of the truck and dragging his hand back through his hair, very clearly having to work himself up to saying it again when he finally looks at her.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about what happened after Mikey’s party. I just– I thought that you–”

“Thought that I what? Did you really think I was going to be that easy, Joel?”

“What? No, if you would just let me finish speaking for Christ’s sake, I know that’s kind of difficult for you and your big mouth–”

“Wow, Joel, you really know how to apologize to a girl, huh?” With that, he slams the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, letting out a sharp curse that makes any other smart remarks fizzle out in her throat. 

“You know what, Cher? Just forget it. You can go wait in the office and I’ll have your car ready for you as soon as I can.” He finally unlocks the car door, and she’s more than happy to get out and slam it behind her.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, fine.”

…

“So is your wife not a fan of softball?”

“My what?” 

“Your wife, does she not like coming to games?” All he can do is laugh for a moment, pure disbelief at her question, and when he finally looks at her again, her brow still furrowed in confusion, he shakes his head with a huff.

“Is that like a funny question or something?” Just a little snap of annoyance behind her words, though he’s quick to respond, holding out his left hand in between them, his decidedly ringless left hand. 

“A little bit considering there is no wife.” It’s the middle of the fourth inning from what he can tell, still plenty of time for them to be not allowed on the field, sitting in the back of Cherry’s car. 

“Oh, but– was there one? I mean, Sarah’s mom?” 

“Uh, no, she’s not in the picture, at all.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. But, uh, what about you? I mean– is Ellie’s– is your, uh–” She cuts off his floundering with a nudge of her shoulder against his, a tight smile on her lips.

“Not in the picture.”

“At all?”

“Never, doesn’t even know Ellie exists.”

“Shit, Cher, that had to have been hard.” She laughs, a clipped sound in the back of her throat as she slides her sunglasses back down onto her nose, keeping her gaze out on the field in front of them. He quickly does the math in his head, pretty sure that Ellie and Sarah are the same age, something heavy and hot settling in his chest when he realizes that she would have only been twenty-two when she had her daughter, just like him. It’s an aching fact, one that his mind starts to swim with, though her voice pulls him out of it quickly.

“It definitely wasn’t easy, but I’d like to think I’ve done alright.”

“I’ll say, it seems like every year there’s a new book of yours in the news for being a bestseller.” She turns to look at him at that, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted before settling into a slight smile.

“Have you read any of them?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” His answer seems to stop her, her face falling behind the darkness of her sunglasses, though she’s quick to catch herself with a breathy humph before turning her eyes back on the field in the distance. He wishes he could tuck those words back in his throat, try that again if only to keep her eyes on him. 

“Are your folks still in town?”

“Oh yeah, dinner every Sunday with them still.” She hums, a light sound that curls with her smile, though she still doesn’t look at him. 

“That must be nice.”

“I think ma would throw a parade if she knew you were back in town.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher.” There, she looks at him again, her smile turning crooked as she nudges her shoulder against his, an easy moment that still makes his heart kick up in his chest. 

“And Tommy’s still around? Miller’s Construction, right?” He must have a funny look on his face when she says that because she laughs again, something warm and flushed creeping into her cheeks that makes his mind go a little fritzed. 

“I promise I’m not stalking you, I was just looking for someone to come fix some stuff at the new house. Sounds like you two have done well for yourselves.” His mind still hasn’t caught up, still such a strange feeling to have her here in the present, talking about these things in the present, all these normal, very grown up things. 

“Uh, yes, yeah, we do alright. Tommy is still a fucking nuisance, but it’s good work. What’re you looking to get done?” 

“I think my back porch is all rotted out, nearly put my foot through a plank the other day. Do you have any idea how much it would cost to redo the whole thing?” 

“I’d have to come take a look, but I could redo it for you, no problem.” He has already decided how much it will cost. Nothing, not for her, though he knows if he told her that now she’d scoff and get someone else to do it who would accept payment. He’ll save that fact for after it’s finished. 

“Alright, is there a number I can call to schedule an appointment?” Oh, oh, he’s not stupid enough to let this opportunity pass him by.

“Why don’t I, uh, give you my number? It’ll be easier that way.” He knows she knows what he’s doing, her lips pursing for a moment as if to consider it, but she still slides her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over to him. He has to think really hard about what his phone number is, typing it in with a small tremor in his hand that only gets worse when he gives her phone back to her with a barely there brush of their fingers. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe, what’s the question?” 

“Why’d you come back? I don’t know where you’ve been, Cher, but I can tell you that I never expected you to come back here.” Shit, he shouldn’t have asked that, because she’s not looking at him again, her chin tucking down as her mouth settles in a thin grimace.

“Honestly? I don’t know. We were in Chicago for the longest time, and then New York while I was working on my last two books. And it was great while it was great, you know? But it was just too much after a while, too much for Ellie, and too much for me.” He ducks his head down, trying to catch her gaze now that her sunglasses are pushed back up into her hair.

“So you made it to New York, huh?” That gets him a grin, her eyes crinkling up under her lashes at him.

“Yeah, the big leagues and all that shit.”

“How was it?”

“Lonely. I think I would have lost my mind if I didn’t have Ellie.” His heart twinges and then swells in his chest because he hates to hear that, and is also relieved to hear that, and then he hates himself for being relieved to hear that. That there wasn’t anyone else. 

“For what it’s worth, Cherry, I’m real glad to see you back here again.” No, that didn’t come out quite right, and he has to stop himself from physically wincing when she gives him a furrowed look in response. 

“I find that a little hard to believe, Joel.”

“Why?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?” He feels a long sigh leave his lungs, and she’s already hopping out of the trunk and brushing her hands down the front of her shorts as if to shake the conversation off.

“I am sorry, Cher, I–”

“Don’t, Joel. Don’t do that.” She shakes her head hard at him, eyes fierce for a moment before she slips her sunglasses back into place. 

“Well I am.” 

“Well I don’t want you to be. There’s no need for it when that was such a long time ago.” He wants to say something else, anything, but the tightness in his throat keeps the words stuck and simmering somewhere in his chest. She doesn’t look at him again, murmuring something about the game ending and wanting to help Ellie pack up, and all he can do is dumbly agree, shutting the trunk of her car and walking back toward the field a few paces behind her. Always a few paces behind her, it seems. 

…

Joel was full of shit. Something about fixing her car as soon as he could, something about it not taking too long. Yeah, bullshit. She has been sitting in the front office of the auto shop for the last three hours, trying and failing to get some writing done in her notebook amidst the seemingly ceaseless sounds of whirring drills, clanking and crashing metal, and the men in the garage cursing and carrying on amongst themselves. Though some of the sound has died down now that it’s just Joel working, the other men all clocking out at five o’clock. Meanwhile, he hasn’t even gotten to her car yet.

Everytime she glances into the garage, his legs are still sticking out from under a cream-colored mustang. When he does finally pop out from underneath the car, her hopes of getting out of the place soon are quickly dashed as someone pulls up to the gas pumps out front. She knows that car, a convertible in an obnoxious shade of turquoise that could only mean Maureen Henderson. Her daddy got her that car for her sixteenth birthday and she never stopped thinking she was hot shit for it ever since. 

She gets up from her cracked vinyl chair in the office to stand at the windows, trying to get a better look at their interaction. Joel is in fine form, of course, leaning down close over the driver’s side door, all grins, all popping gum with his jaw as Maureen rests a perfectly french-tipped set of fingers on his bicep. He must say something really funny for her to toss her head back like that, her teased-out hair bouncing with her tittering laugh. Joel slips around the front of the car, and, really, she thinks, is it so necessary for him to pump Maureen’s gas for her? Can Maureen really not just pump her own gas like a normal person? All a bit outdated, if you ask her. Though Maureen seems perfectly pleased with the whole production, leaning across the passenger’s side and slipping a few folded up bills into the back pocket of Joel’s coveralls while he’s turned away to set the pump back in its holster. How nauseatingly sweet of Maureen, who’s rewarded with another grin and something that must be really fucking funny for her to laugh so loud before she peels away from the shop with one more waggle of her fingers at him. Joel, meanwhile, seems in no hurry to get back to work as he moseys back into the garage, counting the bills that Maureen just tucked into his pocket with a stupid smirk on his face. Yeah, she’s seen quite enough.

“Hey, so I’m just wondering, when you said this wasn’t going to take too long, did you know that you were full of shit? Or is Maureen just that distracting?” Her eyes nearly water when she steps into the garage from the smell of motor oil and burnt rubber, though she’s a little too pissed to worry about that as she walks over to where Joel is rummaging through a tool box next to the mustang. 

“Aw, Cherry, don’t tell me you're jealous of little old Maureen.” She would like to smack his smile clean off his face, the only thing stopping her being the fact that she still needs him to fix her car. 

“I’m not jealous, Joel. I have been sitting in that office all afternoon watching you do everything except fix my car and I would like to go home now.” 

“So you’ve been watching me, huh?” 

“Christ, you really are relentless, aren’t you?” She honestly can’t believe he’s already bounced back to his incessant teasing after their little blow up in his truck, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and squinting at her as she huffs at him.

“Alright, Cher, you’ve waited long enough. I’ll take a look.” She follows close on his heels as he sidles over to her car, popping the hood and ducking his head under to look at the engine.

“Well?” Though she has no clue what he’s looking at, she still leans over the engine next to him, searching his face for any answers.

“Hmm, oh, here’s your problem.” He twists what looks like a loose knob down into the engine, shocking her with how quickly he stands back up with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“That– that’s it?”

“Yep, loose spark plug.”

“And you couldn’t have fixed that earlier on the side of the road?”

“No, I could have, but then you wouldn’t have come and kept me company with your death glare all afternoon.” He can barely get his words out around a laugh. But she is decidedly not laughing. It’s completely impulsive, and maybe childish, but it feels good to shove the flat of both her palms into his chest, making him stumble back against the side of the mustang parked next to her car. And since it felt so good the first time, she decides to do it again, this time with enough force for his laughs to die out with a grunted oof. 

“You’re an ass, do you know that? A huge– fucking– ass–” Each word gets punctuated with another shove, though on the last one Joel wraps his hand around her wrists, collecting them both in a tight hold and only pulling her closer against his chest when she tries to yank away from him. 

“Let go, Joel.” Their faces are so close to each other’s that she can smell the cinnamon on his breath from that Big Red gum he likes to chew, can even see the freckle tucked between his lashes underneath his right eye, the same freckle that’s been there since they were kids. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not gonna let go.” 

“You’re a fucking child.”

“That the best you got, Cherry baby?”

“Do not call me that.”

“Or else what?” A beat, a blink, a moment for her heart to sink into her stomach and shoot straight up into her throat when they both lurch into the space between them. There’s nothing nice about the first one, in fact, it hurts a little with how hard they both press into it, her nose mashing up against his as their teeth scrape and clash with each other. They kiss ugly. They kiss angry. Both of them too stubborn to let the other one get away with anything, the moment he licks into her mouth, she tangles her fingers in the back of his hair and tugs hard, swallowing down the grunt that looses from his throat. Though her upper hand is short-lived when Joel drops both his palms down to her ass and squeezes hard, her whole body jolting in his hold and pressing closer to him. He’s probably getting grease all over her clothes, but she’s not too concerned with that as she keeps drawing low little groans out of him every time she swipes her tongue against his. 

“Wait, Cher– shit, wait– I can’t– I don’t–” She finally pulls back when he keeps mumbling, and suddenly the reality of the situation comes plummeting down on her, starting to panic when it seems like Joel has decided this was all a big mistake.

“What, what is it?”

“I want to do this right with you– your– you should have a nice first time and–”

“Wait, what?” Joel’s eyes get wide and round, his hands dropping down by his sides from where they had been holding her hips when she takes a step back from him.

“Well, I, uh– you– you’re–”

“Joel, have you just assumed that I’m a virgin?” He winces at the word like it’s a curse, and she finally has to laugh at how ridiculous this is. 

“Does that mean you’re not?”

“Just shut up, Joel.” With that, she reaches forward for his waist where the sleeves of his coveralls are tied, making quick work of the knot and rucking his pants the rest of the way down as she kneels in front of him. She tucks her fingers into the band of his boxers, unable to help her grin when she feels his stomach tense against her knuckles.

“Can I?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes– you can do whatever you want, Cherry.” She likes him like this, with his throat bobbing and a crack in his voice pitching his words up an octave, his eyes wide and watching as she tugs his boxers down. And oh, she likes him like this too. Pretty boy who’s certainly pretty all over. The narrow tanness of his hips tapers into a dark thatch of curls, and well, there’s no two ways about it, he’s big, already hard, the tip flushed a perfect pink. Only a little intimidating, but judging by the sound he makes when she suckles the head of him into her mouth, she has it under control. 

“Oh my god– fuck, okay, fuck– you– you’re good at that– Jesus.” There’s a bit too much of him to take it all into her mouth, though she does her best to bob her head down his length, her hand wrapping around what she can’t quite reach as she laps at the vein running along the underside of his cock. A fleeting thought in the back of her mind, this was not how she imagined her day going, not in any universe. But something has snapped, something that cannot be stitched back together. And now, all she feels is an aching want, pulling taut in her stomach, pulling her to him. Want, want, want. She’s never wanted something so bad in her life, she thinks. Not very ladylike to want like this, to gag with it, to dribble spit around it, to see how much more she can take just to coax another broken moan out of his chest, her palms splayed out on his hips to keep him pinned still beneath all her want. But what she didn’t consider is that he wants it just as bad and big as she does, hooking his hand around the back of her neck to pull her off of him and hoist her onto her feet, chasing after the taste of himself on her tongue as he turns them around to press her up against the side of the car. 

“That was gonna be over too fucking soon if I let you keep doing that.” His hands get a little greedy, a little desperate, fumbling to get her t-shirt off before tugging her bra up and overhead without even unclasping it, ducking his head down to let his teeth scrape and nip at the newly exposed skin. He pauses only for a moment, pulling back, his parted lips shiny and blushing and his eyes heavy as he takes her in. She can’t help but drag her hand back through his hair, something tight settling in her chest when he absent-mindedly nudges his cheek closer into the cup of her palm. 

“You’re something else, Cherry.” She doesn’t have any time to ask him just what he means by that, his lips already finding hers again, a small gasp in the back of her throat at the feeling of her nipples dragging against the fabric of his wife beater. And then it’s an awkward, slow shuffle, given that his coveralls and boxers are still pooled and pulled around his ankles, around to the front of the car, his hands finding the backs of her thighs to coax her up and onto the hood. From there his palms start to wander, one coming to cup the side of her neck before slipping down to her breast, the boyish squeeze he leaves there making her laugh, though the sound dies fast when his other hand rests heavy at the waistband of her shorts, thumbing at the button. 

“Can I touch you, Cher?” It’s entirely too earnest, the way he’s looking at her from beneath the thick fan of his lashes, a small crease between his brows. And she’s a little afraid of how her want might skitter up her throat, so instead of saying anything, she simply pulls him in by the nape of his neck for another kiss as her other hand bats his away to undo her shorts. Mercifully, it’s enough of an answer for Joel, his hand replacing hers and dipping down beneath the fabric of her panties, the broadness of his palm cupping her cunt and grinding up into her heat in a way that makes her gasp against his mouth. 

Annoyingly, he’s halfway decent at it, swiping his fingers through her cunt in a harsh rub, though she tenses up when he tries to immediately dip two of his thick fingers into her clenching entrance. 

“Jesus Christ, warm me up a little first, why don’t you?” He looks genuinely perplexed by her exclamation, his hand stilling beneath the fabric of her panties as his brow crumples in reaction. 

“What did I do wrong?” She tugs lightly at the hair at his nape, a light laugh leaving her lips when he lets out a huff like an impatient boy.

“You’re a bit harsh, Joel.”

“Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.” Said with a roll of his eyes and his hand still down her pants so really, she has a hard time taking him seriously. 

“Well, I’m complaining. Just– gentler, here.” She clasps her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away, giving her room to shimmy her shorts and panties further down over the curve of her ass, the way Joel’s eyes instantly fall to where her legs have now splayed open a bit wider not getting lost on her. She fits her palm to the back of his hand, guiding it back to her cunt, her fingers pressing against the backs of his to direct a firm, swirling pressure to her clit. Her head tilts back on her neck as the pleasure settles over her slow and smooth, continuing to guide Joel’s hand with her own. 

“Just like that, s’perfect.” 

“Like that?” He says it so quietly, so uncharacteristically small that her attention snaps back onto him. His eyes are glued to where her hand is still moving his, lips parted, a look that borders on wonder and clear concentration, and suddenly, she can’t take her own gaze away from the sight, her head tilting on her shoulder as her hand falls away from his to let him do it on his own. 

“Yeah, Joel, feels really good like that. You can– you can add a finger now.” When he does, much slower, much softer, her eyes scrunch shut with a small curse and a sigh, and she finds herself leaning back on her elbows over the hood of the car, her whole body splayed out before him. Joel follows her slow fall, keeping a steady rhythm with his hand as he curls over her, his mouth resting hot and open between her breasts before he tilts his head to the side to take the peak of one of her nipples into his mouth. 

“That feel good, Cher?” 

“Yes, keep doing that, please. I– I’m gonna get there just like this.” Miracle, he listens, only adding another finger when she asks him for it, fucking her with his hand just how she wants him to. Miracle, she can’t tear her eyes away from his, the way he seems to be watching her face for every tell, every sigh and every fall. And miracle, she comes undone for him slowly, a cry catching in her throat when it finally hits her, the easiest unraveling. He only stops when she whines for him to, tugging his hand away and pulling him down for a kiss that’s more just two open mouths laying over each other than anything else. 

“Can we? Do you want to?”

“Yes, I want to.”

“Condom?”

“Birth control.”

“Gotta love women’s lib.” 

“Just don’t tell my mom.”

“Please don’t talk about your mom right now, Cher.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just come here.” He struggles a bit to tug her shorts and panties off of her feet, the fabric getting caught on her sneakers, though when he’s finally successful it’s the easiest thing for his hips to slot with hers, his hands curling around the backs of her knees to hitch her legs around his waist. Her arms settle loosely around his shoulders, laying back and bringing him with her as he presses his cock against her swollen cunt. A quick snarl of pain that pleasure snaps and smacks after when drives into her with one languid stroke, both of them letting out stuttered sighs when his hips press against hers. All of that want flickering up and down her spine as he starts to fuck into her, spreading her open again and again. 

“S’a fucking dream, you’re a fucking dream.” She almost wants to laugh at the breathless murmuring of his words, because truthfully she doesn’t think anything has ever felt this real. Her body fitting around his, the way her heart is threatening to beat a break in her ribs, the way her nails can drag down the sliding wings of his shoulder blades, and the incessant, aching heat of him throbbing so deep inside her that she thinks she’ll still feel that hurt tomorrow. She hopes that she will. 

“Joel, look at me, please.” She has to tug on his hair to coax his face out of the hollow of her throat and suddenly that want is dangerous. Looking into the crumpled pleasure painted across his face, watery eyes and slack jaw, and that want becomes dangerous because that want becomes something more. 

She can feel her slick dripping down her thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with the obscene slip of it, only a fleeting worry about making a mess of the car, though that flits away when Joel drags his fingers back over her clit a little harder, a little greedier.

“Just want one more, Cher, please.” She likes please on his tongue. Please pushes her right over the edge. A little harder this time, a little more ragged, furling up tight and taut around him before everything melts down with a whine of his name. He’s still saying please like a prayer when he comes, and all she can do is sigh with the warmth spreading inside of her. Inhale, exhale, her ribs expanding as his contract, a careful, quiet dance as they both come down, still pressed close, lips suggesting grazes. 

“Do you, uh, want to come up to my apartment?” Want says yes, a whisper her ears prick to under the obvious shout of no. Want says yes, over and over.

“Yeah, okay.”

....................................

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped): @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller au

[gothhabiba]

Israel has long been accused of  "pinkwashing"  – the practice of whitewashing or obscuring the abuse and maltreatment of the Palestinian people behind an often embellished version of its record on LGBTQ+ rights.

It presents itself as a forward-thinking, liberal democracy – the only state in the Middle East which respects its LGBTQ+ citizens. This gives the impression that it simply isn't in Israel's nature to violate Palestinian human rights or national sovereignty.Palestine and Palestinians are then cast, without nuance or exception, as the polar opposites of Israel and Israelis – backwards, illiberal, undemocratic, homophobic. Who then are the international community and well-intentioned private citizens to believe and support?

Ahmad Safi is the co-founder of the Palestinian Animal League (PAL). PAL is a collective of animal rights activists operating throughout the West Bank. They are also ardent advocates of Palestinian self-determination. [...]

For Safi, the successful propagation of the Israeli pinkwashing narrative has spawned what he terms "veganwashing." "The Israelis are using veganism and animal rights to clean up their image around the world," Safi told The New Arab. This time, an animal-loving depiction of Israel is juxtaposed with a view of Palestine as a haven for animal abuse. And just as with pinkwashing, Israel's track record on animal rights is not quite as rosy as one might be led to believe.

In fact, according to an OECD report published earlier this year, Israel is the sixth biggest per capita consumer of meat and the number one per capita consumer of poultry.

Moreover, The Guardianhas documented the horrific treatment experienced by farm animals subjected to live export from Australia and Europe to Israel. The squalid, unsanitary conditions aboard the boats and trucks which bring these animals to their final destinations are torturous. Those who have perished or will soon perish are unceremoniously dumped and left to decompose throughout the desert.

Palestinian national emancipation and intersectionality

It is here that Palestinian national emancipation enters the debate. Safi remarks that PAL is keen to dispel Israeli veganwashing propaganda. In demonstrating that "it is not just Israelis and Europeans who are leading this fight," but Palestinians too, PAL advances the Palestinian national cause. The example provided by their activism shatters the illusion that they and their fellow citizens are inherently regressive in comparison to the Israelis.

But animal rights are not merely a vehicle for achieving national emancipation – they are part and parcel of the same struggle. In the words of PAL's Executive Director, Ahlam Tarayra, "It's not enough to raise the Palestinian flag. If you want to liberate your land, you need to work on building a strong society that cares for all who inhabit it. Palestine is the people, the animals, the plants, everything." [...]

Perhaps the clearest-cut evidence for PAL's intersectional position comes in the form of the so-called Separation Wall, which PAL refers to as the 'Apartheid Wall.' The Apartheid Wall does not discriminate between species: Palestinian farmers are cut off from their land, while other mammals are prevented from observing their natural migratory patterns. Furthermore, just as Palestinian human families are ripped apart, so too are the red fox and the gazelle separated from their mates.

Moreover, just as with the Apartheid Wall, it is not just Palestinian humans who find themselves victimised by the IDF. Safi reports witnessing many occasions where Israeli soldiers have shot and killed stray dogs who attempted to play with their military dogs while on their way to conduct raids in his refugee camp. [...] Safi and Tarayra both separately recounted a story in which a woman repeatedly pleaded with them to collaborate with a vegan IDF soldier to bring three puppies to an animal shelter. Tarayra in particular was shocked at the idea that this soldier could properly be described as a vegan. "Does he have a vegan machine gun, with vegan bullets?" she enquired.

– Nick McAlpin, "How Israel uses animal rights to 'veganwash' the occupation," The New Arab (2019).

#Palestine #Israel #veganism #veganwashing #animal rights

[irafuwas]

Twst book 7 chapter 4 babbling notes

lots of blabbering and mega spoilers after the cut

Baul

Sebek mentions that he looks quite a bit younger than he does now, but he has no doubt its grandpa baul

Sebek calls him “Baul Zigvolt”, does that mean his parents took his mom’s maiden name when they got married??

Lilia says Baul is the biggest glutton in their company

Sebek says that Baul taught him a lot growing up. He’d often buy books for Sebek, and it was him who instilled a love of reading in bekky

Just like bekky, he loves salmon

Timeline Shenanigans

In the real world, Lilia is about 700 years old and he says he received his invite to NRC over 500 years ago

In the dream, Lilia is about 300 years old

Mal is 178 years old in the real world, but at this time in Lilia’s dream, he is due to hatch in 2-3 years

Silver and Sebek notice the timeline doesn’t match up with how old mal and lilia are. Neither of them know much about Mal’s parents. Whatever happened to them wasn’t recorded in any of the books sebek read about briar valley

Fae Language

The screeching/growling sounds that the masked soldiers are making are actually an old fae language

Sebek is able to understand it (not perfectly, but he understands overall what they are saying), as his mother and grandfather taught it to him

Silver tried learning it from Lilia, but Silver’s ears couldn’t even pick out the words. Sebek said his father said the same thing. Sebek explains that compared to other animals, humans have a limited range of hearing, and since he is descended from fae, he can pick up on minute sounds that humans cannot

Languages and methods of pronunciation differ from one fae species to another, but by imbuing their voices with magic they can all communicate with one another. Presently, many of the fae in briar valley speak a common language, and not many speak the old fae languages.

Silver Owl/Iron Ones

The Silver Owl is a group of humans that invaded the Land of Briar and they are tearing up the forests, destroying the mountains, and generally making a huge mess of things as they excavate the land for magical stones, mystium, gemstones, and other resources

All the members of the group wear iron armor, and that is why the fae have taken to calling their members “the iron ones”

Lilia and the imperial guards have been struggling to drive them out of the country since there are so many of them

They arrived at ”Cape Sunrise”（? 来光岬） about a hundred years ago in just one little sailboat. Their numbers increase in the blink of an eye and they quickly surpassed the fae. They now pretty much dominate the land from the “Canyon of Screaming Winds” (?? 風鳴き渓谷) to the east

Henrick

Leader of the Silver Owl

Lilia describes him as a greedy, vulgar man who’s “big like a barrel”

Spends most of his time relaxing at the fortress and rarely comes out

Knight of Dawn

Commanding officer of the Silver Owl’s guards

An expert swordsman with white armor and golden hair. Even lilia recognizes his strength (though they’ve never fought)

Even the followers of the night fear him

He is said to be very beautiful

He spends most of his time defending the fortress and doesn’t come out west much

He wears a helmet almost all the time. Lilia’s never seen his face

General Vanrouge

Uses 俺 for his first-person pronoun instead of わし like he does now

He says his sense of taste is very sensitive and he can tell right away if something weird has been added to a dish

Says he is about 300 years old

He was an orphan and Queen Maleficia took him in

He thinks that Silver and Co. are envoys from NRC trying to get him to enroll at the school

At one point, Grim whines for some fruit growing high up in a tree, and Lilia uses his magic to get it down without making a sound (there were enemy soldiers in the area). He says he’s only ever missed once when he set his eyes on a target, but doesn’t answer what that was when Sebek asks

While on their way to the fortress, some fae kids recognize Lilia and call out to him. He calls them annoying brats and basically tells them to scram. But the kids say they want to protect the country together with Lilia, and he smirks and lightens up.

At one point he kicks Silver and sends him flying, and Silver falls right in front of some Silver Owl soldiers passing by. They think that Silver must’ve been held prisoner by the fae and that he had escaped and they stop to help him, and then Lilia and the others attack while they’re distracted

One time, when he, Levan, and Mallenoa were kids, they got lost in the forest after getting caught up in another one of Mallenoa’s whims. This was back when they couldn’t fly very well, and there was a thick fog in the forest, and they couldn’t find the way home. Levan was freaking out but Mallenoa was having a great time. The next morning the imperial guards came and found them. Even though they went out there per Mallenoa’s suggestion, Lilia was the one who got an earful for it

They come to a deserted town and recuperate in one of the abandoned homes. They find some spinning wheels, a doll on the floor, and marks on the wall where someone was getting their height measured every year. Lilia scoffs at the mess the kids that lived there must have made. He figures that once Mallenoa’s egg hatches he’s probably going to get babysitting duty shoved on him and be made to clean up after the kid. He says just thinking about it makes him sick. He says he hates children, they’re loud, do what they want, and always cry, and worst of all, they’re weak. He says the thought of having to look after a creature that gets worn out so easily sends a shiver down his spine. Sebek suggests that perhaps Lilia’s mind will change someday, and that he might like to have a family of his own in the future. But Lilia looks at him like he’s grown two heads and says he has no intention of ever running a household. He murmurs, “Until now, and from now on, I…” but doesn’t finish the thought.

Mallenoa (? マレノア)

Queen Maleficia’s one and only daughter and the Lady of Briar Castle (?野ばら城) (To this, Silver gets confused and says “Briar Castle? Not the royal castle in the Dragon Capitol City/Imperial City(?竜の港), Black Scale Castle” (???黒鱗城))

She commands the imperial guards and is the “keystone of the country’s defense”

She ordered Lilia and the guards to deliver a written ultimatum to the Silver Owl demanding they cease their insolent actions at once.

Other delegates have been sent to deliver demands to the silver owl’s fortress before, but one by one they went missing. So instead of having lilia’s company just fly to the fortress, she told them to go on foot and search for the missing delegates and rout any silver owl members along the way

Lilia says she is a tomboy, quarrelsome, hot tempered, and selfish. He calls her the Land of Briar’s most disastrous princess. He says ever since he’s been conscious of his surroundings he’s been wrapped around her little finger for the past 300 years

Levan (? レヴァーン)

Mal’s dad and Mallenoa’s husband. He was an aristocrat and served as the Land of Briar’s diplomat. Title is 龍眼公　(Lit. dragon eye Lord/duke).

His whereabouts are unknown

Tamago-Sama (😭)

in the dream, Mal is currently an egg and is due to hatch in 2-3 years

Dragon eggs will not hatch without their parent’s love and magic poured/concentrated/flowing into them

Silver

He says he doesn’t have his sleeping problems when he is within a dream. He never suddenly falls asleep or anything like he normally does when awake

He says his father brought him to lots of different magical healers growing up but none of them could find out what was wrong and they would all throw in the towel in the end

The silver owl soldiers keep mistaking Silver for somebody else. One knight asks if Silver is here to save them, another says he feels like he recognizes silver from somewhere. Based on the way they address him, whoever they are mistaking him for is someone socially superior to them

At one point, the darkness appears, and silver’s ring starts to glow. The light from the ring dispels the darkness

Lady Leah (? レイア)

Henrick’s little sister

Its rumored that she is in love with the knight of dawn

Ending Scene

The Silver Owl fortress is empty when the group arrives. The door closes behind them and an armored device starts attacking them

After they defeat the device, a fae messenger arrives letting them know that the Briar Castle is under attack by the Silver Owl. Both Henrick and the Knight of Dawn are leading the charge

#twst spoilers #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #baul zigvolt #twst jp #twisted wonderland

[fatehbaz]

A devastating rail crash that left almost 300 people dead has refocused international attention on the importance of railways in the lives of Indians.

Indeed, to many Western observers, images of men and women crammed into overcrowded cars serve as a metaphor for modern India. Take, for example, a report by German newspaper Der Spiegel on India’s population surpassing China’s. Published just weeks before the accident in Odisha province on June 2, the now much-criticized cartoon depicted a shabby Indian train crammed with passengers rushing past a streamlined Chinese train with only two people in it.

Where does this enduring image in the West of Indian railways – and of India – come from? As a scholar of Indian history and author of 2015 book “Tracks of Change: Railways and Everyday Life in Colonial India,” I believe the answers lie in the gigantic infrastructure projects of the 19th century – forged at the intersection of colonial dictates and capitalist demands.

---

A carrier of freight, not people

Railways remain the backbone of passenger traffic in India, transporting some 23 million people daily. In the pre-pandemic 2018-19 financial year, 7.7 billion passenger journeys in India. [...] Yet, when first planned in the 1840s, India’s railways were intended to primarily transport freight and livestock, not people. Indians were thought unlikely to become railway passengers by directors of the English East India Co., a merchant monopoly that gradually annexed and administered large parts of India under U.K. crown control. [...] However, early colonial railway policy was driven by pervasive Orientalist imaginings of a people rendered immobile by poverty, living in isolated villages [...]. The trope interlocked with colonial thinking that railways would foster greater industrialization which in turn would further a capitalist economy. They also aligned with the practical needs of a colonial trading monopoly which needed raw materials for English industries, such as cotton, to be moved swiftly and efficiently from India’s interiors to port towns [...].

---

Despite the doubters, the new Indian railways attracted an increasing number of passengers. The half-million passengers recorded in 1854 when tracks became operational increased to 26 million in 1875. By 1900, annual passenger figures stood at 175 million and then almost trebled to 520 million by 1919-20. By the time of the partition of India in 1947 it had risen to more than 1 billion passenger journeys annually. Indeed, images of overcrowded trains came to epitomize the upheaval of partition, with the rail system used to carry swaths of uprooted peoples across the soon-to-be Pakistan-India border. Third-class passengers, overwhelmingly Indians, comprised almost 90% of this traffic. These escalating figures did not, however, generate a lowering of fares. Nor did they result in any substantial improvements in the conditions of [...] travel. [...]

---

The generally British railway managers seemed disinclined to remedy systematic overcrowding, which included transporting passengers in wagons meant for livestock. Rather, they insisted that such overcrowding was caused by the peculiar habits and inclinations of Indian passengers: their alleged [...] inclination to follow one another “like sheep” into crowded carriages. These attributes were soon rendered into a more public narrative, especially among Western mindsets. Journalist H. Sutherland Stark, writing for the industry publication Indian State Railways Magazine in 1929, stated that though “unversed” in railway administration and traffic control, he knew railway facilities were not the problem. Rather, Indian passengers lacked the mental preparedness, “self-possession” and “method” necessary to travel like “sane human beings.” Stark suggested passenger education as a solution to the perceived problem, making railway travel a tool for “self-composure and mass orderliness.” [...]

---

More than a century later, this depiction endures, though, ironically, it now serves as a foil to understanding contemporary India. In a piece published in The New York Times on March 12, 2005, the author lauded the then-new Delhi metro, emphasizing that it had “none of the chaotic squalor of hawkers and beggars that characterizes mainline railroads in India, nor do desperate travelers hang from the sides of the trains.” As the debate rages on whether safety has taken a back seat to “glossy modernization projects” in India – early analyses suggest signaling failure might have caused June 2, 2023, accident – railways continue to represent India’s history.

In the heyday of empire, they were deemed the technology through which Britain would drag India into capitalist modernity. In 1947, they became a leitmotif for the trauma of the partition that accompanied the independence of India and Pakistan. As the coverage of Odisha accident reminds us, it continues to be a metaphor in the West for evaluating contemporary India.

---

Headline, image, caption, and all text above by: Ritika Prasa. “Overcrowded trains serve as metaphor for India in Western eyes -- but they are a relic of colonialism and capitalism.” The Conversation. 9 June 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#ecology #colonial #imperial #abolition

[diaphobic]

(WIP)Diabolik Lovers: College AU

It’s been a while since I’ve posted any headcanon type stuff on this blog! But I wanted to post about a college au, it’s the one I typically write in and how I perceive the characters. Since the diaboys are really old, and the stuff that happens in the series is kinda (ehh), I aged them up a few years and added a night college.

There’s only a few big differences;

Students range from 18+, the uniform is slightly different, the school has dorms available, and no Yui ): she’s a human minor (set the girl free) but there are two MC’s (male and female) to play as.

Ryoutei University

A night school for the rich, working, and inhuman. The school is partnered with the Demon World’s top university. Though the existence of demons attending the school is not publicly know, the faction of the church that supervises the school knows. The school was made a sort of co-Ed (in terms of species) after a war took place in the human world, and they wanted to come to an agreement.

The school has one main building with additional buildings around the campus that hold events for sports, music, and other social gatherings.

There are dorms on the campus divided between male and female students. The female students are on the east side of the campus, and the male students are on the west. They are not allowed to cross between dorms. There’s a student led security team that surveys the dorms every day.

The schools budget is seemingly endless, they have just about everything in this school: pools, tracks, courts, a church, and other recreational activities for the full time students to enjoy.

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Basic Timetable of the schools schedule:

Classes begin: 8pm

Classes end: 3am

After school activities offered from 3:30am to 7am.

Classes are an hour and a half long. Depending on the student, they may have lunch starting from 11pm to 1am.

Cafeteria serves food until 2am

A typical meal consists of: rice, meat, miso soup, and a chosen desert.

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Diaboys Grades!

This is based off of a four year graduation system.

Sakamaki Family:

Subaru: freshman

Triplets: sophomore

Reiji: Junior (completing graduate classes)

Shu: Junior (he doesn’t have enough credits to be one, though…)

Mukami Family

Azusa: Sophomore

Yuma: Sophomore

Kou: Freshman (he was held back a year due to his work….)

Ruki: Junior (he hasn’t been at this school as long as Reiji, so he has about ten less credits than Reiji.)

Tsukinami Family

Shin: Sophomore

Carla: Senior (he couldn’t lie about the copious amounts of school credits he had collected)

MC: Freshman! MC came to this school recently and (if they had any) didn’t have their school record transferred to this school, so they have to start over regardless.

Because this is college, depending on the MC’s skill level in different courses they have a chance to take classes with all of the boys!

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

School Events

There are school events that the students can join! Monthly events sponsored by the school to places like the “Princess land amusement park” at night.

Sports festivals happen often as the students are encouraged to exercise and maintain school spirit.

Art exhibits hosted by the art department happen often, usually when the students are having their exams to showcase their work this semester.

There’s a swim, basketball, football, and tennis team along with various indoor club activities. In short, almost everyone can join a club activity they’d want to. (Laito tried out the photography club, but was promptly banned after he took naughty photos…)

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Tuition??

The school is EXPENSIVE!! All of the students tuition is double the price of a community university (not counting dorms)! Karlheinz is emptying his wallet for his kids…

#diabolik lovers #laito sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #shu sakamaki #diabolik lovers reactions #yuma mukami #mukami azusa #ruki mukami #dialover #diabolik lovers headcanons

[rhapsodynew]

A song featuring George Harrison and Ringo Starr.

Ringo and George, 1966

A hitherto forgotten soundtrack created more than half a century ago, featuring Maestro Saroda Ustad Aashish Khan performing in tandem with the iconic Beatles By George Harrison and Ringo Starr has now been found, restored and released - much to the delight of fans and music lovers.

The soundtrack, titled ‘Radhe Shaam', which was allegedly recorded in 1968 at Trident Studios at the height of Beatlemania, was released on November 10, 2021. In a song produced and written by Suresh Joshi, a veteran journalist and TV presenter with a long track record, soulful performance Ustad Khan is gracefully accompanied by a rhythm guitar George and Ringo's drumming.

Mister Joshi, who was friends with George Harrison, was the very person who introduced him to the famous Indian musician Ravi Shankar, who had a great influence on the star and, as is known, taught him how to play the sitar.

At that moment, George and Ringo were taking a break from recording Hey Jude in the studio.

“I was working on the music for my documentary ‘East meets West’ when George (Harrison), who was a good friend of mine, offered to play for the soundtrack. As soon as he decided to participate, Ringo also kindly came to the rescue,” Joshi recalled.

George with engineer Ken Scott at Trident Studios in late October 1970. 

However, as soon as the recording was completed, Suresh took the master tape to his attic in his Birmingham home and forgot about it until years later he met Deepak Pathak, co-founder of Maharaja Organics.

“I became friends with Deepak when I was alone at home during the pandemic. During one of our conversations, I told him that I had produced and recorded a song with maestro Saroda Ustad Aashish Khan, Ringo Starr and George Harrison, which was never released,” Joshi explained.

“At that time The Beatles were in the process of breaking up, and they had various problems, so no one wanted to [release the track],” Aashish also said.

Pathak convinced Joshi to let him listen to the soundtrack.

As soon as Pathak heard this ‘fundamental work’ and became convinced that it should be released to a wider audience. He sent the master tape to the music producer Suraj Shinhu, who restored it and prepared it for release.

“I am delighted that we have managed to save this fundamental work of Suresh. I persevered with the recovery process, which was technically difficult, but extremely effective,” Shinh said.

John Barham, Ringo and Suresh Joshi

Despite the fact that this song was written more than fifty years ago, it is still relevant and will be close to modern youth, Joshi agreed.

“The song revolves around the concept that we are all one, and that the world is our oyster shell, something that we all realized during this pandemic. A song written more than 50 years ago is more relevant today than ever,” Joshi concluded.

Earlier, the track was given to 100 visitors of the Liverpool Museum to listen to The Beatles. Museum Manager Paul Perry said that the invited audience who listened to the song, including Mr. Joshi, “fell in love with it.”

“Without any doubt, it was George's guitar, [and] it felt like he was here among us. And, also, without a doubt, the drums belonged to Ringo.”

However, opinions and memories about the time and circumstances of the track's recording differ.

From Matt Hurwitz:

“Actually, this is not 1968, but the song was recorded at Trident on March 10, 1970, as described in detail in my article about the recording of "All Things Must Pass". George helped Aashish Khan, who was asked to write an Indian-themed pop song for an Indian director, but the track was never used.”

The session was dedicated to the future project of Aashish Khan and John Barham. The musicians were Hashish Khan, George Harrison, Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr, Billy Preston and Klaus Voormann (Foreman). Everyone, with the exception of Khan, will take part in the recording of the album George's “All Things Must Pass".

So he plays the lead guitar Clapton, and George plays the rhythm guitar. Khan talked about a song called ’In Praise Of Lord (We Are All Children Of God)' that they were supposed to record ten years ago. It looks like they also recorded a song by Mr. Joshi ‘Radhe Shaam'. At that time, the song had no title, which may explain why it was not mentioned for many years.

Pete Drake and George

Album John Barham and Aashisha Khan was released in 1973 under the name ”Jugalbandi" on Elektra Records, both superstar tracks of March 1970 did not hit it.

#Youtube #george harrison #ringo starr #beatlemania #music #my music #music love #musica #history music #rock music #pop #rock photography #ken scott #1970s #John Barham #Suresh

[odinsblog]

Rolling Stone — Islam Moustafa says his New York City halal cart on 83rd and 2nd Ave. has never experienced anything like the harassment leveled against it by former Obama National Security Council Director, Stuart Seldowitz — videos of which went viral on Tuesday.

“We’ve been here since the [2nd Ave. Q train] opened, about seven years ago. I don’t recall the cops being called to this place before,” Moustafa, a co-owner of the halal cart, tells Rolling Stone, adding that he has a meeting with the NYPD’s 19th precinct on Wednesday afternoon to discuss “a hate crime investigation.” (continue reading)

CNN — A former Obama-era National Security Council official has been captured in a series of videos using hate-laden and Islamophobic language to taunt a New York City food cart vendor.

The former official, Stuart Seldowitz, confirmed to CNN in an email it is him in the videos, which were recorded by a vendor from inside a food cart on Manhattan’s Upper East Side and appear to be from different days.

In the videos, Seldowitz mocks Islam, taunts the man about his citizenship status, accuses him of supporting Hamas and references the ongoing Israel-Hamas war.

“You support killing little children,” Seldowitz says to the vendor in one video. The vendor retorts, “You kill children, not me.”

Seldowitz replies, “If we killed 4,000 Palestinian children, you know what? It wasn’t enough!”

(continue reading)

#politics #palestine #israel #islam moustafa #stuart seldowitz #gaza #islamophobia #casual racism #racism #hate crimes

[one-idea]

About the reverse strawhats AU!! I am absolutely in love with it, it's so interesting. I haven't read all the posts yet, but I got a question: what about Garp? In canon, he took a step back in marineford because Ace made the choice to become a pirate, and Ace accepted his coming execution. He didn't like it, but he respected his choice. (Stupid men and their stupid honor). But here, Luffy hasn't even set sail yet! He is still, technically, "innocent" of any crimes other than being his father's son! So how will Garp react to it?

Oh this is so tough!!!

I’m not here in the anime yet, so I can give a better answer later.

But my guess is Sengoku knew that there was no way Garp would let the World Government execute his youngest grandson. Especially when that grandson hadn’t committed any crimes (yet)

Luffy’s execution is so different than Ace’s. Everyone can tell this is wrong. This is a 17 year old with no record and they were going to kill him over his father’s crimes and the hat on his head (and maybe a devil fruit, there’s a lot of reasons for them to want the kid dead) and the public can’t wrap their heads around this.

But we are here for Garp.

I think Sengoku took one look at Luffy and the orders to execute him and knew he had to hide it from Garp of it would never happen.

I think Sengoku has sent him out on some mission in the East Blue. (Garp’s excited because maybe he’ll run into Luffy and convince him to be a Marine before he does anything to illegal, he doesn’t know he’s already locked up in a cell in level seven of Impel Down. This also allows him to pick up Kolby)

I don’t think Garp knows. I don’t think he finds out until the televised execution starts and he’s in one of the blues and knows he can’t get there in time to stop it.

I think this might be what finally shatters the old man’s faith in the Marines. Because how could his friend hide this from him? Who could his co-worker murder his grandson for no reason other than the blood in his veins?

I don’t know if he’d leave the Marines.

If he’d retire

I can’t see him joining Dragon no matter how hurt he is, I can’t see him taking that hard of a turn

I can’t see him as a pirate

Maybe as a liberator. Going to places he knows tha marines are doing wrong and trying to stop them but not fully joking the rebel cause.

Or maybe he just leaves a floats around teaching his brand of justice to the next generation and causing problems for everyone, the government, the revolutionaries, and pirates.

I will have to wait until I see this part in the show. But the circumstances are so different. And Luffy isn’t a criminal yet. So I can’t see him being able to justify his death in any way. And I can’t see him being idol in it or complicit.

I think he has to be removed from play somehow m. I just don’t know what will be the reaction besides overwhelming sadness and grief.

Sorry I don’t have a more detailed answer. Once I get here in the show I’ll take this again.

But thank you for the ask!

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #monkey d garp #reverse strawhat pirate au #asl brothers

[harrisonstories]

So here's something interesting...

The Beatles Derek Taylor Never-Before-Heard Collection of Lost Beatles Recordings: Including the 1967 Kenwood Sessions and John Lennon Private Recordings

This is the track listing from the description:

Tape 1: Unheard Beatles Sgt Pepper Rehearsals from Kenwood late 66 early 67

Run time is 56 minutes, songs include:

Revolution #9, mainly John in many accents, George can be heard, Paul too, Ringo one time, Terry Doran is also heard being interviewed by John, Terry Doran was ‘The Man From The Motor Trade’ on Sgt Pepper, every identical animal sound effect from Good Morning Good Morning is featured throughout, probably pre-dates Pepper and John has the sound effects saved, cockerel, hens, sheep, horse, pigs, cat, dogs etc, the very ones used on Pepper. Sitar drones almost all the way through by George, Piano backdrop also

Track Listing:

That much Control

Monte Carlo rally sound effects Terry Doran is Jack Brabham Formula 1 racer

Cat Feeding Services (Monty Python esque sketch)

A million miles away, John Indian accent Beatles far east tours in 66

Crazy banjo song, JL bellows

I’m aware of the situation monologue

Swing your partners

Lennon.McCartney complaining about the heat

John and George shouting over a very loud backing track

John/Paul counting in 123 testing, JL turns it into a poem.

Dear Prudence very early demo John wrote it way before 1968

British Police are pigs, in an Indian accent

Tape 2: George Harrison With the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and Jimmy Page.

15 tracks, 59 minutes George with his Thames Valley muso friends, Jimmy Page, Jon Lord, Joe Brown, Sam Brown, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah band (Neil Innes, Legs Larry Smith, Vivian Stanshall) Alvin Lee, all songs written by the Bonzos and George, all recorded at FP.

Track Listing:

George into talk while playing guitar, introducing a new song

Brazil take 1 written for the Handmade films project Brazil (never went to production)

Brazil take 2

Brazil Take 3

Sooty Goes to Hawaii

Mandalay monologue for handmade films production of the same name

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #2

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #3

Operatic Aria sung by Georges father-in-law and Olivia Harrisons dad Zeke Harrison, I doubt that Olivia has heard this

Bullshot theme song for Handmade films completed production.

Hare Krishna chant by everyone

Chant 2

While my Guitar Gently weeps with Jimmy Page on guitar

Same with Alvin Lee on guitar

if I Needed Someone

Tape 3: George with Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band band, all co-written 25.30 mins, 16 tracks

Track Listing:

Intro Legs Larry Smith

Do You Remember

Nothing Ever Changes

Urban Spaceman

Isle of Money (I Love Money)

Can you Groove (George)

There’s a Bright Golden Boil on my Penis

I Like Cesar

Misery Farm

Julie

Danda

When You Gotta Poop

Now You’re Asleep

Telling me The End

Viv Has Gone to Heaven

Mandalay Monologue #2

Tape 4: John Interviews Yoko 1969

Recorded by John in 1969, 45 minutes, John questions Yoko’s motives for being with him, discusses very personal matters, very revealing.

Tape 5: Yoko with Dr. Artur Janov

Yoko’s Primal Scream therapy 1 hr 40 mins, of very personal therapy, Yoko discusses John, music and very personal issues including John’s friendship with George.

Tape 6: “One From The Nursery” Unreleased John Ono Lennon Album

John and Kyoko Cox Tittenhurst Park

Run time is 47 minutes

4 tracks

Lots of John talking and playing acoustic guitar (sounds like his J60E) recorded at Christmas time, Various songs stand out, all written by John & Kyoko

John, I Love You

I Wish You Were my Father.

#john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #derek taylor #yoko ono #a lot to unpack here