“People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is an organization that publicly claims to represent the best interest of animals – indeed their “ethical treatment.” Yet approximately 2,000 animals pass through PETA’s front door every year and very few make it out alive. The vast majority – 96 percent in 2011 – exit the facility out the back door after they have been killed, when Pet Cremation Services of Tidewater stops by on their regular visits to pick up their remains. Between these visits, the bodies are stored in the giant walk-in freezer PETA installed for this very purpose. It is a freezer that cost $9,370 and, like the company which incinerates the bodies of PETA’s victims, was paid for with the donations of animal lovers who could never have imagined that the money they donated to help animals would be used to end their lives instead. In fact, in the last 11 years, PETA has killed 29,426 dogs, cats, rabbits, and other domestic animals.”

“A supermarket dumpster full of garbage bags. When police officers looked inside, they found the bodies of dead animals – animals killed by PETA. PETA described these animals as “adorable” and “perfect.” A veterinarian who naively gave PETA some of the animals, thinking they would find them homes, and examined the dead bodies of others, testified that they were “healthy” and “adoptable."”

“The PETA field killing kit found by police in the back of the PETA death van in Ahsokie, North Carolina.”

“An Ahsokie Police Detective dressed in a hazmat suit prepares to bury a puppy killed by PETA. This puppy and dozens of other animals including cats and kittens were found by police throughout June of 2005 after PETA employees dumped them in a garbage bin in North Carolina.’”

“Puppies killed by PETA in the back of a van – a donor-funded slaughterhouse on wheels. Despite $35,000,000 in annual revenues and millions of "animal-loving” members, PETA does not even try to find them homes. PETA has no adoption hours, does no adoption promotion, has no adoption floor, but is registered with the State of Virginia as a “humane society” or “animal shelter."”

“Not only does PETA kill animals, they also defend the killing of animals by others. This is a dying kitten in a Houston shelter after staff "lost” the kitten. When he was found, he was near death. His last hours were ones of suffering.”

“A puppy dying of parvovirus in the Houston shelter is not given anything soft to lie on as she urinates all over herself. Here she sits, unable to keep her head up, alone in a cold, barren stainless steel cage without receiving necessary veterinary care. Other shelters have a better than 90% rate of saving dogs with parvovirus.”

“The PETA solution: dead “feral” cats in a Florida shelter. PETA successfully defeated SB 1320, a law that would have clarified that nonlethal programs to neuter and release feral cats, rather than killing them, are legal in Florida. As shelters and health departments nationwide embrace trap-neuter-release programs, PETA remains a stalwart opponent of this humane alternative to killing, arguing that healthy feral cats should continue to be killed, even urging their supporters to take them to shelters or veterinarians to do so. The PETA website states that, “the most compassionate choice is to euthanize feral cats. You can ask your veterinarian to do this or, if your local shelter uses an injection of sodium pentobarbital, take the cats there.” This shelter used “an injection of sodium pentobarbital,” killing the cats in front of other cats, catch-poling the cats as they tried to flee while they urinated and defecated all over the kennel in fear. That is how terrified feral cats behave in shelters. Apparently to PETA, this is as it should be.”

“A cat in the King County, Washington shelter begs for food and water. Cats in the infirmary were not fed or given water over a three-day holiday weekend and both their food bowls and water bowls are empty. Although staff was assigned to the shelter, supervisors and staff chose to socialize instead. I was hired by the King County Council to assess the shelter. My advice: Hire supervisors who are not part of the same union so as to eliminate conflicts of interest; all staff should be given a checklist of assigned duties; and supervisors should double check that those duties have been done. In a letter to the King County Council, PETA told officials not to listen to me because I was “radical.” Read the full article Written By: Nathan J. Winograd (Huffington Post, Director, No Kill Advocacy Center): http://www.huffingtonpost.com/nathan-j-winograd/peta-kills-puppies-kittens_b_2979220.html”

(via Repost for Awareness - F*ck PETA)

Nervous (Prince!Jungkook)

Plot: #42: “…or we can chill in our underwear.” + ♠: You adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc. with prince!Jungkook

Word Count: 1320

A/N: so I got am az ing news yesterday, the next class session I have is the last until finals !!! which means, I’m pretty much done with this term, I’m so excited for summer, I’m ready to do nothing but sleep and talk to people and maybe try some new recipes, if you guys have any yummy vegetarian friendly recipes, let me know !! This “drabble” got a bit long but I had this idea and I didn’t wanna half ass or rush it in an attempt to make it short enough to qualify as a drabble so consider this a scenario imagine drabble whichever one, the links for this post are prince!Jungkook (here) and father!Jungkook (all of the father related posts are here)

Having a secret relationship with the future king had its ups and downs. You were his personal guard, giving you the excuse to be seen with him constantly. You couldn’t be as affectionate with each other as you would’ve liked but Jungkook wasn’t a fan of public affection to begin with. You also knew that Jungkook was meant to marry someone else, something his parents would arrange for him once he was old enough. You knew that he was rapidly approaching the date his parents would announce who he was marrying, a wedding planner already being called in. You knew that you may have to go back to being just his guard.

Keep reading

Ontario to give its citizens a universal basic income of $1,320
A Canadian province is to run a pilot project aimed at providing every citizen a minimum basic income of $1,320 (£773) a month. The provincial government of Ontario confirmed it is holding public consultations on the $25m (£15m) project over the next two months, which could replace social assistance payments administered by the province for people aged 18 to 65.

Tomb of Shah Rukn-e-Alam, Multan, Pakistan.

Sheikh Rukn-ud-Din Abul Fath (1251–1335) commonly known by the title Rukn-e-Alam (Pillar of the World) was among the eminent Sufi saints from Multan, Pakistan. The tomb building is an octagon, 51 feet 9 inches in diameter internally, with walls 41 feet 4 inches high and 13 feet 3 inches thick, supported at the angles by sloping towers. Besides its religious importance, the mausoleum is also of considerable archaeological value as its dome is reputed to be the second largest in the world, after Gol Gumbaz of Bijapur, India.

The mausoleum is built entirely of red brick, bounded with beams of shisham wood, which have now turned black after so many centuries. The whole of the exterior is elaborately ornamented with glazed tile panels, string-courses and battlements. Colors used are dark blue, azure, and white, contrasted with the deep red of the finely polished bricks. The tomb was said to have been built by Ghias-ud-Din Tughlak for himself during the days of his governorship of Depalpur, between 1320 and 1324 AD, but was given by his son, Muhammad bin Tughluq to the descendents of Shah Rukn-e-Alam for the latter’s burial in 1330.


anonymous asked:

so... any more like that king james post?

Son, it’s time you learnt about… King Edward II of England.

Boring disclaimer: there is no explicit evidence of the true nature of Edward’s relationship with Piers Gaveston or Hugh Despenser. There are no love letters or saucy satirical poetry, a la King James I. There are no sex tapes. All we have is conjecture and circumstantial evidence (and some sources, but not many). It should also be noted that we can’t say with any certainty that Edward II was what we (although not him, as the terms and frameworks are modern) would term ‘homosexual’, ‘bisexual’ or ‘heterosexual’. Relationships between men were often incredibly close, bordering on romantic, with no clear definition between platonic and romantic. It was only really unusual when there was a sexual component involved, and the lack of evidence of this component means that it would be impossible to ascribe a definitive homosexual identity to the two men. However, the lack of evidence does not necessarily mean a lack of veracity, and it’s not impossible that the two were sexually involved. It’s just important to remember that modern labels don’t always fit past figures, because history and all.

Our merry historical jaunt begins with the saucy tale of

Piers Gaveston: in which the dangers of ignoring your barons and giving all your land, treasure and undivided attention to one man becomes apparent

  • So, this begins with King Edward I, who was the king of England from 1272-1307. He was also nicknamed ‘Longshanks’ because of his long legs, which is completely irrelevant, but interesting. In 1300, a saucy 16 year old (or thereabouts) named Piers Gaveston joined the household of Edward I, at the behest of Edward I, who thought he was a pretty decent chap and definitely not about to lead his son astray or anything like that. Fairly soon after that, Edward I became the human embodiment of that ‘I have made a terrible mistake’ gif that everyone used to post back in 2013, because Prince Edward and Gaveston became absolutely inseparable. Prince Edward kept demanding more and more titles for Gaveston and his family, giving him fancy gifts of treasure and land and probably those really expensive watches, and at one point the king became concerned that Gaveston might actually be a bit of a problem when it came to his son producing heirs, and Gaveston was banished from court and exiled, albeit with an allowance. 
  • Edward I died in 1307. His dying wish was that Gaveston should never be allowed back into the country, to which Prince Edward said ‘yes, dad, I will absolutely adhere to your last wish, because I am your respectful son and heir. Oh, you’re dead? I’m Edward II now? Cool! Time to fetch Gaveston and give him loads of land! What a guy.’
  • Edward II was crowned in 1308, and subsequently married Isabella of France, who was two things: an absolute badass, and also a 12 year old girl. That was fine in those days, so everyone just went along with it and assumed that Edward and Isabella would be happy together forever. They were not entirely correct.
  • Within a month of Edward I’s death, Edward II had made Gaveston the Earl of Cornwall, and was a bit naughty about it. By some accounts, Gaveston hadn’t known that this was his plan, and Edward claimed that he had asked his barons for advice, but that was a load of old wank, because the barons hated Gaveston and would probably rather construct a wall made of actual corn and slap a title on that. In 1308, in a pattern which should not have surprised anyone at this point, Edward’s courtiers began to worry about the extent of Gaveston’s influence on the king, with some describing him as being ‘like a second king’. By some accounts, the two were never apart, even sharing a bed on some occasions, and many noblemen began to worry that Gaveston was influencing royal policy, which, now that I think about it, might have been a euphemism. They forced Edward to exile Gaveston again in 1308 upon threat of excommunication, which he did, but Gaveston was allowed to serve in Ireland in a military capacity, as Lieutenant of Ireland (which Gaveston was weirdly great at. Legitimately.) Edward also gave him and his wife a lot of money. Like, a lot. So that’s nice.
  • In 1309, Edward began attempting to compromise with the barons who had ordered Gaveston’s exile. He promised them more land and power, and to stop his really annoying habit of refusing to meet any of them unless Gaveston was also in the room, if they would overturn the exile. They refused, probably accurately assuming that things would be just as bad as before. In response, Edward began to royally suck up to the powers that be, giving land and titles to members of the Pope’s family until he received a papal annulment of the threat of Gaveston’s exile and agreed to sign a statute relieving some of the earls’ problems, and Gaveston returned.
  • Things improved a lot after that, by which I mean that Gaveston began to give all the earls horrible nicknames and Edward II gave him his own personal armed guard, as well as access to the treasury. Fed up beyond belief at this point, the barons drew up a series of reforms known as the Ordinances of 1311, and forced the king to sign them, saying that civil war would ensue if he didn’t. As well as limitations on Edward’s power as king, these reforms included articles about punishment owed to Gaveston for his offences. By some accounts, Edward promised to agree to all articles diminishing his own power if the barons would allow Gaveston to remain as Earl of Cornwall, to which the barons laughed heartily and exiled Gaveston for a third time, with the promise of death if he were to return. 
  • In 1312, the King demanded that Gaveston return ‘by the king’s order’, ostensibly to visit his pregnant wife but probably just to piss the barons off. Some people suggest that Edward got so desperate at this point that he even offered to recognise Robert the Bruce, the man who had spent his entire life at war with England, as the king of Scotland if he would acknowledge Gaveston as having a right to live in England, but that might be nothing more than a story. Whatever happened, the barons were indeed pissed off, and executed Gaveston.
  • Their love affair lives on in Christopher Marlowe’s play of 1592, Edward II, which deals fairly explicitly with their romantic relationship (although not that explicitly, you can take your grandma to see it). 

Luckily, after that, Edward II learned his lesson about taking royal favourites and using them to piss off his barons by giving them lavish gifts and making them Earls of random places, and he absolutely definitely never took another male favourite ever again, which leads right onto 

Hugh Despenser: in which the whole thing happens all over again, only with less exile and more outright bloody civil war, and also waxworks

  • In 1318, a man named Hugh Despenser was made royal chamberlain, and, despite having enjoyed a fairly lukewarm acquaintance before this point, quickly became a favourite of Edward II. By 1320, he was running around demanding titles and money all over the damn place, and Edward was acquiescing all over the same damn place. At this point, most barons were probably wishing that they’d never executed Gaveston, because compared to Despenser, he was a saint. If Gaveston had been a pain in the arse, then Despenser was a pain in every single arse this side of the equator. He was, by all accounts, pretty obnoxious. Unlike Gaveston, who had mostly been interested in shiny things and status, Despenser was interested in power and politics, and used his status to manoeuvre his way up the ranks of English politics like a little worm on a very small ladder. Oh, and Despenser’s wife was also Edward II’s niece. Just so you know.
  • By 1321, everyone hated Despenser except for Edward. Edward’s wife, Isabella, was one of his most vehement detractors. The reason for her hatred of him, seeing as she’d always tolerated Gaveston, isn’t really known - lots of theories have been purported, primarily focusing on Despenser’s reputation of assaulting noblewomen, and possibly Isabella herself. I did tell you that he was awful. Subsequently, some barons rebelled, starting what are now known as the Despenser Wars. There was even an event where some barons contracted a local magician, John of Nottingham, to kill Edward and Despenser by making wax figures of them and destroying them. Bizarrely, it didn’t work. The barons lost the war in 1322, and Edward and Hugh reigned supreme, and by ‘supreme’, I mean ‘with an iron fist’, and by ‘with an iron fist’, I mean ‘like Joffrey Lannister’. 
  • Over the next 4 years, Edward began to severely punish the barons who had been involved in the Despenser Wars. He would execute the barons, then confiscate their widows’ land and give it to someone whose name, you’ll be unsurprised to hear, was Hugh Despenser. Many of these widows were Isabella’s friends, and, despite having been broadly supportive of Edward up to this point, she began to plot against him. She refused to take an oath of loyalty to the Despensers, and Edward retaliated by taking her land, her assets, and even her children, placing them in the custody of… look, do I even need to tell you which family he gave his own children to? It was the Despensers. What a surprise.
  • Remember how I said that Isabella was a badass? This is why. In 1326, she went to France to negotiate with the French king on Edward’s behalf. Whilst there, she made the acquaintance of Roger Mortimer, a marcher lord who didn’t much care for her husband, having been imprisoned by him in the Tower of London for his part in the Despenser Wars. Romance ensued, and so did plotting. Lots of both.
  • With an army of about 1,500 soldiers, Isabella then invaded England, by some accounts whilst dressed as a goddamn widow, and took back her children and her land. This led to two weeks chasing Edward and Hugh Despenser around South Wales, which honestly needs to be a short video with just Edward and Despenser hiding in various castles and Isabella catching up with them and saying ‘look, I can see you both, you’re hiding under the bed,’ and Edward and Despenser shrieking ‘no, you can’t see us! We’re not here!’ until finally Isabella took back her husband. Only by ‘took back’ her husband, I mostly mean ‘imprisoned’. She had Despenser executed in a rather grisly fashion, including but not limited to castration (a joke at his being a ‘sodomite’, as they named him) and having his body chopped up. Grisly.
  • Edward’s fate is unknown, even to this day. A popular urban myth is that he was executed by having a red hot poker shoved up his royal bottom, supposedly so as not to leave any trace of the murder, but this is nowadays widely accepted as being medieval propaganda designed to poke fun at his possible sexual relationships with Gaveston and Despenser.

All of which is really a very long-winded way of saying that Edward II was a terrible king and should definitely have spent more time ruling the country and less time underestimating his wife, but he was also a very interesting figure in terms of being pretty openly Not Heterosexual, and how he’s been vilified, even to this day, for his sexuality. Lots of people still know him as the guy who prioritised his lovers over his country, and that makes sense because he was about as good a king as a wet ham sandwich by all accounts, but they often think of his sexual preferences as being intrinsic to that, as though he would have been inherently better as a king and human being if his lovers had been female instead. Granted, they would have had less recourse to gain political power than his male lovers did because women couldn’t hold the same levels of status or land, but that’s the fault of the political system, not Edward’s sexuality. It would be good if the whole ‘bad gay’ narrative could be superseded by a ‘bad king’ one, but y’know. Let’s not live in hope.

Sources (collated from Warner, Kathryn, Edward II: The Unconventional King): 

  • Vita Edwardi Secundi 
  • Chronicles of Meaux Abbey
  • Close Rolls (of the reign of Edward II)

Somewhere in Mexico.


Happy Earth Day!

  • Blue Faience Model Hedgehog – From an Egyptian Tomb at Abydos, New Kingdom (18th Dynasty c.1567-1320 BC)
  • Spring Landscape – By Qian Songyan (1899–1985) c. 1960. Ink and colour on paper
  • Maple Trees at Mama, Tekona Shrine, and Linked Bridge – Utagawa Hiroshige, 1857. Colour woodcut from the One Hundred Famous Views of Edo series
  • Flowers and Insects – An oil on copper painting by Jan van Kessel I (1626–1679)

Recollection: A PHOBIA Companion Series
Flashback Five


Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: ~1320

Summary: For all the time they’ve been kept apart, a sense of desperation has taken over. Will they act on it?

Warnings: A little bit of angst, mostly fluff and suggested smut

Originally posted by iamlonelyperson

I start each day with the sound of her screams. They carry on for hours. On and off, their sound carries through these hallowed halls. Days go by without her. Somehow, I’m never able to see her, not even in passing. I train other soldiers. I move through the building almost freely.

Where is she?

And when will I get her back?

It’s been a week. I’ve spent the last few hours in my cell, pacing back and forth. I woke up to silence. At least, her screams meant she was still alive. As I turn my back to the cell door, it’s pulled open.

“Let’s go, Soldier.”

I follow the young solider without hesitation, but I begin to prepare myself to be presented with her body. I prepare myself to never see her smile or hear her voice or feel her touch again.

How could I even think I could keep my distance from her? Why didn’t I fight? I should have fought the moment they pulled her away from me.

I’m led to an unfamiliar room. There’s a single bed in the corner. A small dresser against the wall. A table beside the bed. There’s another door. I’m not sure where it leads yet.

The soldier says nothing as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I look around. I try to understand what’s going on. The drawer on the bedside table is empty. There’s clothing in two or the four drawers of the dresser. I stay away from the door to the unknown room, fearing that worst lies behind it.

I sit at the edge of the bed. I stare down at my hands. The left shines in the light. This device created as means to the end of other people; yet, it is a device that has known gentility in the way (Y/N) holds it or in the way I hold her. She shows no fear for me. She never has. I can’t have lost her. Maybe this room means that I haven’t. Or this is my lesson, my punishment. To wonder if this room is our haven or her grave.

The main door opens. Karpov steps in wearing that same smug grin.

“Good afternoon, Soldat. A penny for your thoughts?”

“Where is she?”

“She’s right here.”

He steps to the side. She stands behind him. At first glance, I can see the bruising on her temples, the thin veins of an electrical burn on her left side, though it appears to be mostly healed. She jumps a bit when he turns to face her. He stands at her side and leans down to her ear. Her gaze is directed at the floor. Her breathing becomes a little labored as he whispers something to her. I can see the tension in her jaw as her head drops. He leaves the room. The door closes, and now we’re alone.

I hesitate, at first, to move toward her, but when I finally take that first step, her entire body tenses; she doesn’t look at me.

Her eyes are dark. Her expression is fearful. It’s been a week since I’ve seen, and something seems wrong.


She gasps softly, turning quickly to look at me, her head tilted a bit to the side, “Зима?”

I nod my head slowly as I take another step, “It’s me, Kitten.”

“He says you’re supposed to take care of me.”

“What do you need me to do?”

She says nothing. She simply walks past me and to the mysterious door. I follow her, of course. When she opens it, she reveals a bathroom. She walks to the bathtub that sits in the center of the room. She turns on the water. I watch her from the doorway as she removes her dress.

Her skin is blemished, spotted with several fading bruises.

I step into the room with her, standing just a few inches behind her. She sighs softly as I touch a bruise that mars her right shoulder.

“Do they hurt?”

She shakes her head, “Not anymore.”

We stand there like this as the porcelain tub fills with water. She’s neither fazed by her nudity or my presence.

She leans forward to turn off the water. She supports herself on my shoulder as she steps in. She pulls her knees up to her chest and just sits there. I find a washcloth and a bar of soap. I also find a stool beside the sink.

I sit at her side, washing her skin as gently as I can. I know she says she’s not in pain, but the need to be gentle with her is overwhelming. Once I rinse her skin of the small soap bubbles, I stand. I offer her my hands. I help her to her feet after she takes them. I find a towel to wrap her in. I keep her steady as she steps out of the water. I let the water run out of the tub before following her back into the other room.

She sits at the edge of the bed while I get her clothes. When I turn away from the dresser, she’s right behind me. The towel is still wrapped around her shoulders.

She smiles softly and takes the clothing from my hands. When she begins to turn away, something overcomes me. I catch her arm, turning her to face me before I catch her face in my hands. I bring my lips down to hers, pressing a desperate kiss to the softness of them.

She drops her clothes in favor of wrapping her arms around my neck. I tear the towel from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as well.

I pull away from the kiss, brushing her hair back behind her ears and looking into her eyes.

“(Y/N), Kitten,” It’s three words, words she should have heard a week ago, “I love you.”

“Vasily said you can’t love me, that you don’t know how.”

“He lied to you. I know what I feel; it’s the one thing I can be sure of. This last week has been devastating, having to sit around and wonder what they were doing to you. I could hear how much pain you were in. I should have fought harder. I was supposed to protect you. I was…”

Her fingertips to my lips silence my apologies.

“Зима, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

Her arms tighten around my neck as she raises her lips back to mine. I can feel her desire in her kiss, but I need her to say it.

I force myself to end the kiss again. Her breath is heavy, her chest heaving as she grips my biceps in her hands.

“Say it, Котенок, tell me what you want.”


“You have to say it.”

“I want you… to make love to me.”

I smile for the first time in days, and this time when I lean in to kiss her, I press a little further, hooking my hands around the backs of her thighs and wrapping her legs around my waist. Even as I carry her to the bed, I know this is probably a bad idea, but I honestly can’t be brought to care.


“Colonel Karpov, sir,” a soldier mutters, clearing his throat as he glances away from the camera feed, “the girl and the asset… They’re…”

“I’m aware.”

“Should we intervene?”

“No. Leave them be.”

“But, sir…”

“I said leave them be.

Karpov reaches past the soldier and cuts off the screen. When the soldier looks up at him in slight surprise, he only shrugs.

“I don’t particularly care for voyeurism.”

The colonel turns his back on his soldiers, leaving the room. Once is the deserted hall, he chuckles softly.

Let them feel in control. Let them feel as though this is their choice.

This is an illusion.

“They do nothing without my permission.”

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