The corpse of a Russian soldier stands rigid in a clearing during the Winter War. This scare tactic was used by Finnish troops to intimidate Russians invaders as they advanced through hellish winter conditions. Finland, December 1939.
Jake Pogue, a 32-year-old marine corps vet, returned to the Sacred Stone camp on Friday.
US veterans are returning to Standing Rock and pledging to shield indigenous activists from attacks by a militarized police force, another sign that the fight against the Dakota Access pipeline is far from over.
Army veterans from across the country have arrived in Cannon Ball, North Dakota, or are currently en route after the news that Donald Trump’s administration has allowed the oil corporation to finish drilling across the Missouri river.
The growing group of military veterans could make it harder for police and government officials to try to remove hundreds of activists who remain camped near the construction site and, some hope, could limit use of excessive force by law enforcement during demonstrations.
“We are prepared to put our bodies between Native elders and a privatized military force,” said Elizabeth Williams, a 34-year-old air force veteran, who arrived at Standing Rock with a group of vets late on Friday. “We’ve stood in the face of fire before. We feel a responsibility to use the skills we have.”
It is unclear how many vets may arrive to Standing Rock; some organizers estimate a few dozen are on their way, while other activists are pledging that hundreds could show up in the coming weeks. An estimated 1,000 veterans traveled to Standing Rock in December just as the Obama administration announced it was denying a key permit for the oil company, a huge victory for the tribe.
The veterans camp at Standing Rock.
The massive turnout – including a ceremony in which veterans apologized to indigenous people for the long history of US violence against Native Americans – served as a powerful symbol against the $3.7bn pipeline.
But the presence of vets was not without controversy. Some said the groups were disorganized and unprepared to camp in harsh winter conditions, and others lamented that they weren’t following the directions of the Native Americans leading the movement.
Vets with post-traumatic stress disorder also suffered in the cold and chaotic environment without proper support, said Matthew Crane, a US navy veteran who is helping coordinate a return group with the organization VeteransRespond. His group has vowed to be self-sufficient and help the activists, who call themselves “water protectors”, with a wide range of services, including cleanup efforts, kitchen duties, medical support and, if needed, protection from police.
“This is a humanitarian issue,” said Crane, 33. “We’re not going to stand by and let anybody get hurt.”
On Friday afternoon, as snow rapidly melted during an unusually warm day in Cannon Ball, Jake Pogue helped organize a vets camp area at Sacred Stone, the first camp that emerged last spring in opposition to the pipeline.
“We’re not coming as fighters, but as protectors,” said the 32-year-old marine corps vet, noting that he was concerned about police escalating tactics. “Our role in that situation would be to simply form a barrier between water protectors and the police force and try to take some of that abuse for them.”
Since last fall, police have made roughly 700 arrests, at times deploying water cannons, Mace, rubber bullets, teargas, pepper spray and other less-than-lethal weapons. Private guards for the pipeline have also been accused of violent tactics.
“We have the experience of standing in the face of adverse conditions – militarization, hostility, intimidation,” said Julius Page, a 61-year-old veteran staying at the vets camp.
Dan Luker, a 66-year-old veteran who visited Standing Rock in December and returned this month, said that for many who fought in Vietnam or the Middle East it was “healing” to help water protectors.
Julius Page a 61-year-old veteran: ‘We have the experience of standing in the face of adverse conditions.’
“This is the right war, right side,” said Luker, a Vietnam vet from Boston. “Finally, it’s the US military coming on to Sioux land to help, for the first time in history, instead of coming on to Sioux land to kill natives.”
Luker said he was prepared to be hit by police ammunition if necessary: “I don’t want to see a twentysomething, thirtysomething untrained person killed by the United States government.”
LaDonna Brave Bull Allard, founder of the Sacred Stone camp and a Standing Rock tribe member, said she welcomed the return of the vets.
“The veterans are going to make sure everything is safe and sound,” she said, adding, “The people on the ground have no protection.”
At Standing Rock, indigenous activists say the mass arrests and police violence have led many of them to develop PTSD, suffering symptoms that many veterans understand well.
“This historical trauma of indigenous communities in this country is very real. It’s tragic,” said Crane. “The military has a lot of the same problems.”
Aubree Peckham, a member of the Mescalero Apache tribe who has been at Standing Rock for months, was in tears on Friday as she described the way indigenous water protectors have bonded with vets.
“We don’t know how to protect ourselves against the tactical weapons they are using,” she said. “They are getting us better prepared.”
Peckham said the affection was mutual: “We are able to talk about PTSD. And they finally feel like they are understood.”
At this very moment, genocide is occurring in Aleppo, Syria. We are being tortured, raped, slaughtered, and basically exterminated indiscriminately. There is no aid, medicine, food, or tools of survival. There are no hospitals, schools, homes, or any safe haven. There is no body or causality count anymore, there are too many to be accounted for. The White Helmets have officially announced that they are essentially powerless and paralyzed; they have stopped counting the dead, only stopping to wrap bodies in orange bags. Men and male children are forcefully being conscripted into the regime army or massacred in mass executions. There are official reports of women asking their husbands to kill them before being conscripted or executed in fear of mass rape and other atrocities they may face. Aleppo and Hama have suffered chemical attacks that have left seemingly unharmed children lining mosque floors dead. The about 100,000 people left in the city that haven’t died or been displaced are moving from one neighborhood to the other as regime and Russian forces close in. They are running only to fruitlessly go through the action, only to feel like they are trying: it’s of no use. The city is blockaded and there are ongoing airstrikes. There is no way out. There is no escape. This is essentially a cat and mouse game. There is no hope. We are literally asking God for divine help and miracles.
There are claims that “Aleppo is falling”; however, it has FALLEN. Russian and regime offenses have taken 96% of the city. Officials say that Russia and the Syrian regime have agreed to a peace deal and/or ceasefire, but live reports from Aleppo confirm it has yet to be implemented. The siege is ongoing. There is no going back from this. What has occurred these past two days is a genocide that was live-streamed to a world still in denial about our suffering. All we asked for was an end to emergency/martial law, yet we received six years of pure agony
Humanity has failed us. The international community has failed us. We are the worst human rights violation since World War 2. We are Obama’s and the UN’s Rwanda. Please save us. Call your representative. Donate to the White Helmets, Syria Relief, Save the Children, etc. Spread the word. Tell the truth. Do anything you possibly can.
UPDATE: As of Wednesday, December 14th 2016, the Turkish-Russian peace deal and ceasefire has FAILED. Syrians have been waiting since 5 AM for evacuation busses and NONE HAVE ARRIVED. Regime and Russian forces have started shelling the city AGAIN.
Please, don’t forget us! This is not getting better, this getting WORSE. They have won. The city has COLLAPSED yet they will not cease their offense. This is still ongoing. This is a nightmare that will never end. We Syrians are trapped in this city with war crimes still happening! Please continue spreading the word.
UPDATE #2: As of Thursday morning, December 15, 2016, the ceasefire has (for the most part) been held. Preparations for evacuation are just about complete. There will be a safe passage from Eastern to Western Aleppo that the International Committee of the Red Cross will oversee. Evacuations should begin soon. We are hoping that Western Aleppo will react kindly to the under 100,000 civilians coming in from Eastern Aleppo and that it will be, for the most part, successful.
Just remember: surviving Eastern Aleppo citizens are being transported on busses that are overtly and excessively decorated with the face of their butcher. At least it’s a slight reprieve from the past couple of days. Please keep the residents of Aleppo in your thoughts and continue to spread the word.
UPDATE #3: First convoy of 1200 Aleppo evacuees have arrived at Idlib, of which 200 were immediately hospitalized and most in critical condition. A second convoy of about 1198 people has crossed the West Aleppo countryside and has just about arrived, as well. There may be a third evacuation convoy if all remains fairly unhindered.
Please keep in mind that remaining waiting Aleppo residents and even the evacuees are facing harsh winter conditions as homes have been destroyed and it gets brutally cold, especially during the night, in Syria. They are also facing extreme hunger. The Syrian regime is providing them with nothing more than transportation to Idlib. Continue to donate what you can and call your representatives.
This will be the last live update I can provide from Aleppo unless an emergency or crisis (more than the now usual) occurs or important updates must be made. Please keep spreading the word, supporting civilians in anyway you can, and remaining vigilant and informed on the crisis in Syria. International mainstream media failed us and many of you didn’t even know what was happening until you read this post. The Aleppo genocide was one of many crises over the past six years and will be one of many more. Keep Syria in your thoughts and prayers. Spread the word.
(Above: The team stopped for a break in the BWCAW)
It was fifteen below (Fahrenheit) this morning. Typical, even mild, by Minnesota standards but a bit colder than we’ve had in a while.
I relished it.
“How does running up to 100 miles a day across treacherous ice, through biting winds and blinding snowstorms, and in subzero temperatures sound?” Michelle Feinberg wrote last month in an anti-sled dog piece for a People For The Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) website.
Been there, done that. Sounds kind of normal, to be honest, and gives me flashbacks to the UP 200. But then, my sense of normal has always been a bit skewed and, as I love to say, my life is not normal.
Michelle goes on to add “I think it sounds like hell - cold hell.”
Now I don’t know Michelle and, although we come from very different philosophies and I’m no fan of PETA as an organization, I am a proponent of treating animals ethically, so we have common ground there. I’d be happy to introduce her to the world of sled dogs that I know, which I’m is very different than what I gather she’s read. I’m also going to bet, from her writing, that she’s never experienced true cold.
I doubt Michelle has run any miles, much less a hundred, behind a team of dogs whose response to subzero gusts of swirling snow isn’t to balk but instead charge forward with enthusiasm and glee. I doubt she has ever felt ice frosting on her eyelashes or sat with a team of sled dogs while the aurora borealis dances on one horizon and the moon rises on another, their breath fogging into a small cloud under stars so bright they seem threatening.
I doubt she knows that snow smells different depending on the temperature or that snow at zero degrees has a completely different feel and consistency than snow at freezing - so much so that it hardly counts as the same thing at all. I doubt that she’s seen snow materialize out of the air on a clear night or seen the sun circled by a rainbow refracting from ice crystals. I doubt that she has spent hours nestled in a straw nest with her dog team, massaging their legs and muscles with rosemary oil, wind chapping her bare hands since this is a task that doesn’t lend itself to gloves.
I doubt she has ever seen sled dogs first-hand, much less as they delight in running - leaping and barking at the start of a run or race, still leaping and barking a hundred miles or more later during a stop, demanding to know why we are stopped. I doubt she has stood with her foot on the drag brake of a sled for hours just to keep the team from going too fast, the spray of snow from the drag gradually coating her boots.
Have you ever thrown boiling water into the air and watched it vaporize before it hits the ground? Have you ever watched ravens fly on the most brutal of winds, as if it were the most fun they could ever hope to have? Have you ever sung to your dogs on a day where even the sun doesn’t warm the land? Have you ever seen dogs oblivious to the cold run and play or witnessed how much more excited they are to run on a sled team when it is approaching zero? Pulling a sled, far from cruelty, comes as naturally to them as their odd howl-barks that sound more like yodeling than “normal” dog noises.
Frozen hair, clouds of breath, the hot snuff of a dog’s muzzle on your cheek, the entire world coated in crystalline cold. You may call it Hell but we call it home and it’s where we thrive.
Whenever I try to describe how a deep freeze feels, I always come up short. It’s hard to describe, but it’s hard to describe in a good way.
Growing up in the muggy Southeast, the idea of true cold was a foreign concept, one that my friends and relatives there still have difficulty grasping. Why would I purposefully move to the subarctic wilderness to live my life and why would I purposefully go out into it again and again.
Cold can be scary to those unfamiliar with it, who don’t know how to deal with it. It’s something strange and bizarre, something to be respected but it’s also inexplicably beautiful and being out in it is an incredible experience.
If you are a husky then you, like your wild wolf cousins, are physically built to not only withstand the harshest of Winter conditions but to thrive in them. You have a thick double coat - the woolly undercoat insulates and the sleek outer coat deflects wind, snow and moisture, not to mention a tail you can drape over your nose while resting.
For those of us who aren’t huskies, however, it is still possible to dress for such cold weather - Northern peoples have been doing it for centuries. Inuit and Yup’ik anoraks, mukluks and parkas are still some of the warmest clothing and even some of the more modern arctic gear is modeled off these traditional garments.
But it’s not just about what jacket or boots you have, dressing for the cold involves learning how and where to layer and what to layer with. Terms like “wristies” and “neck gaiters”, which mean nothing to many people, become household words for essential pieces of gear that you wouldn’t dream of venturing into the cold without. Tiny things like this can completely change the cold weather experience.
Do we still feel the cold? Yes, of course we do! Much moreso than the dogs. For us, warm is relative but it’s worth it for the experience of being out in the cold with said dogs.
Of course it was the dogs that drew me here - the amazing, wonderful huskies that I love and which my life circles around. As I write this, two of them (Wizard and Poe, to be specific) are snuggled up next to me, fast asleep. My little cold weather-loving friends who practically embody the spirit of the cold.
Our subzero playground might sound like cold hell but, for us, it’s another day in frozen paradise.
The elevator to the common area pinged open and the team poured out, all in varying levels of injured, all several steps past pissed off.
“That should have been easy! Instead it was a clusterfuck!!” Natasha fumed, the smoke pouring from her mouth with the words making everyone else uneasy. “What the hell went wrong?”
“Hey honey, why don’t you shift back all the way so you don’t accidentally light my couch on fire like you did last week?” Tony called from his position in Steve’s arms, cradled close to the big blonds chest.
“Tony, just be quiet and let us check you over.” Bucky interjected, and sent a steely eyed glare at Natasha. “Shift down, dragon lady. Steve, put him on the couch.”
Steve set Tony down carefully, ripping his shirt in one easy pull, showing the mess of bruises and cuts that decorated his ribs.
“Damn it, Tony.” Clint flew in through the window, still partial shifted in his hawk form, tucking his giant wings behind him. “We told you to stay back. You could have seriously gotten hurt!”
“Oh yeah.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Tell the man in the suit with weapons to stay back and let the animals handle it. That sounds like a great idea.”
“Yeah well, if you would have listened you wouldn’t be all banged up, would you?” Clint pointed out, shifting back entirely into his human form, the wings and golden eyes disappearing. “Tasha, shift down baby, you’re smoking up the room.” He grabbed a blanket for her, and Natasha took a deep breath, the scales on her body rippling and shimmering and disappearing, claws retracting, and within a minute she stood at her usual five-two, green eyes and red hair. It was a far cry from her dragon, and everybody relaxed once she was wrapped in a blanket and headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
“Anything broken?” Steve asked and Bucky felt Tony’s ribs gingerly, mindful of the bruising, his fingers probing gently, blue eyes worried.
“Nothing cracked, just some hard bruising. What were you thinking?” His voice dropped into a growl, his Wolf still close to the surface and Tony swallowed hard, pushing back the wave of want at the sound.
“I didn’t want you guys to get hurt. So I stepped in.”
Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader Word Count: 2,177ish T/W: Smut! A/N: For Anon’s request: “Philip x reader imagine where they go to a ball together and Philip becomes incredibly annoyed/jealous because a bunch of different guys come up to the reader and ask her for a dance, and while the reader thinks it’s adorable how jealous/protective Philip is of her, he can’t tolerate the looks and requests the guys are giving so he takes the reader back to his house and stuff happens (if ya know what I mean😉😉😂)” I gotchu ;) (Set in Hamiltime!) Philip biting you in public?
You were beyond excited that you were actually going to a ball! And best of all with your boyfriend Philip, who treated you just like a princess. About three weeks before the ball Philip’s “Uncle” Hercules made you a dress, and on the day of the ball it was perfect! You had picked out a gorgeous colour, the top rested just under your collarbones, revealing your shoulders. The bottom poofed out magnificently, but not obnoxiously. You really felt like an absolute princess!
“You ready, Philip?” you called from behind a closed door.
“Ready!” he responded from outside.
You stepped out of the room, attempting to hide a smile as Philip’s jaw dropped a little and he raised his eyebrows. Walking closer to you, he took your hands and gave you a twirl. Once you were facing him again, he brought you into his arms.
“You look beautiful,” Philip whispered, leaning his forehead down against yours.
You giggled a little as Philip kissed your cheek. For a moment you almost forgot you were at the Hamilton’s house, until you heard someone clear their throat. Both you and Philip turned to face the direction of the sound, only to see Alexander, Philip’s father, standing there. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you stepped away from Philip, pushing your hair behind your ear nervously.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mom,” Alexander held his hand out to you, “she’d insist the two of you get married this very moment.”
You took his hand and he, just like his son, gave you a twirl.
“You look wonderful, I see Herc didn’t fail you.” As you nodded in agreement he walked over to Philip, “Now, your mother and I are going to the Washington’s for the night, since it’s a fair distance, we’ll be staying with them. Overnight. Eliza wanted me to tell you that y/n is welcome to stay at our house tonight given the winter conditions outside. We’ll be leaving shortly after you.”
Philip respectfully nodded.
“Alright, you’d better get going or you’ll be late.” Alexander said before bidding you a goodnight and heading back downstairs.
You and Philip headed out to the ball, it was a chilly winter night, but not too terribly cold. Once the two of you arrived at the ball, Philip immediately held you close. You looked around the room and spotted George Eacker along with his group of friends, whom Philip hated. You simply avoided eye contact as you knew very well that George was always flirting with you and was sure to come over if he saw you. To your dismay he had already spotted you.
You turned to face Philip, “Don’t get upset, but-”
“Hello Miss Y/n,” George was suddenly at your side, “Ah, hello, Philip…”
You put a hand on Philip’s chest to stop him from stepping forward.
“George…” Philip said.
“Mind if I barrow her for a moment?” George pulled you from Philip’s side before you could respond, “Don’t get upset Hamilton, it’s just a dance.”
George linked his arm with yours as he lead you to the ballroom dance floor. A slow song started and you felt his hand tightly on your waist. He pulled you a little too close for comfort, but you went with it, reminding yourself that it was just one dance. Even though Philip and him never got along, you didn’t really know why, so whenever he came around you tried to be polite, but not too friendly.
“So, are you really being pleased by Philip?” George asked, attempting to sound charming.
“Philip is everything I could ever ask for,” you responded, swaying with him in rhythm.
“But does he give you everything you ask for?” George smirked.
You looked away from him, spotting Philip across the ballroom. He looked so jealous, it was actually kind of adorable. Even when other girls came up to him he politely declined and pointed to you, causing you to smile. Philip truly was everything you could ask for, he was loyal and sweet and passionate and completely in love with you.
“Yes,” you arched an eyebrow, looking back to George, “he does.”
The rest of the dance was quiet and when it was over you headed back towards Philip, but was stopped on your way over. One of George’s younger friends asked to dance with you. Since he was younger than you, you naturally thought nothing of it, maybe he was just being sweet. So you danced with him for a song. You let out a deep breath and made your way back across the floor. You were almost to Philip when a tall, strong, young man asked for a dance. You accepted once again, unfortunately this young man was quite bold. He held you close against him, a little too close for your liking. The breaking point for Philip was when he looked over to see some guy whispering in your ear and tightening his grip on your waist.
“Mind if I cut in?” Philip asked, holding out his hand for yours.
The young man willingly handed you over to Philip, who made sure to hold you even tighter against him as you danced. It was just perfect, Philip watched your lips as you told him just how happy you were that he had come in. His eyes trailed down your neck and to your collarbones, his eyes continued a little farther, until your voice snapped him out of his daze and he looked back up to your lips. Your gaze was just over Philip’s shoulder as you watched other people dancing around you.
“I mean thank goodness!” you sighed finally happy in Philip’s arms. “I thought that would never en-”
About half way through your sentence you let out a quiet gasp, Philip’s mouth was suddenly on your neck. The action was sudden, but you couldn’t deny that if felt wonderful. You felt him gently suck at your sensitive skin. As he pressed a soft kiss over your now forming bruise, Philip stared down George letting him and his little gang know you were his and his alone. Brining his stare back up to meet you, your heart was racing. And he could tell from the way your chest was rising and falling against him, that you had enjoyed it.. Without saying a word, Philip took your hand and lead you out of the ballroom.
“I cannot believe you did that!” you said once you were outside; your tone was excited yet shocked.
“You know exactly what Philip Hamilton!” you smiled, stopping your strides, forcing him to look back at you.
He grabbed you by the waist, your hands resting on his chest, “That was just the start.”
He smirked before placing a kiss on your lips. The two of you headed home as fast as you could. Stumbling through the front door, Philip couldn’t seem to keep himself off you. His lips were back on your neck and he was tugging at your dress. You slipped Philip’s coat off and started working the buttons of his vest, soon adding that to the floor. Both of you ditched your shoes about halfway across the room. He kissed from the base of your neck up to your jawline.
“Ph-Philip,” you gasped, “Shouldn’t we find a room?”
“You’re absolutely right,”
With that Philip picked you up bridal style, carrying you up the stairs and to his room. Setting you back on the ground he began untying the back of your dress. Your breathing became heavier as you felt his lips against the top of your shoulder, before his hands slipped your dress off, following the curves of your body as he slid it down. Once the dress was on the floor, his hands reached around to your chest, gently massaging you.
“Mmm, Philip,” you breathed out, closing your eyes and enjoying the bliss.
“Yes?” he whispered between kisses.
Turning around you wrapped your arms around his neck and kept your lips just inches from his, “I want you.”
Lifting you up once again, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he locked lips with you. The sensation of his hands against your bare back sent little tingles through your body. Lying you down on the bed, he made quick work of his shirt and returned to you. Finally, you could feel his skin against yours. You held his face in your hands as he kissed you with a fierce passion. His hand traveled to your side until he reached the waistband of your undergarments. He broke the kiss to slid them off you, Running his hand along your thigh as he peppered kisses across your face, gaining a giggle from you.
“This doesn’t seem fair,” you boldly reached a hand down to palm him.
Philip just responded with a growl, standing up to undress himself before returning to you.
“I want you, Philip,” you whined.
With your permission, he centered himself and pushed into you. You tightened your grip on Philip’s biceps, arching your back, and gasping at the feeling of him inside you. He gave you time to adjust as you moaned his name. He placed a kiss to your sternum and up to your neck. You nodded and closed your eyes. He began rocking his hips against yours, and it felt heavenly.
You slid your hands to his back, feeling his muscles flex along with his motion. You rubbed his shoulder blades, grazing your fingernails down to his sides. His thrusts became harder and you let out another gasp of pleasure. Philip nipped at your neck. Pressing your chest against him, his name fell from your lips once again.
“I love you.” Philip said against your skin in a husky voice.
“Ah- Philip!” you tossed your head back, bringing your hands back to his biceps, squeezing tightly.
You felt a tightening rise in your core. You tried to ignore the feeling, but with the way Philip was slamming into you it was hard to ignore. Everything he did made you feel like pure bliss. You enjoying every moment of this sweet heated passion. Philip worshiped your body and you absolutely adored his. Feeling his hand travel down your side sending a surge of chills through your body.
“Ph- Philip,” you rested your forehead against his shoulder as you squeezed your knees on either side of him.
Brining your arms around his neck you held on tightly, dipping his hips down a little he hit your g-spot. Your mouth fell open and you closed your eyes. Soon a wave of bliss came over your entire body. With Philip continuing his motion, it only intensified your sensation. You nearly yelled his name when your orgasm hit its peak. As you calmed down from your high you wanted to give Philip the same feeling. You began to kiss and suck at his neck, tangling a hand in his curls, while the other rested on his chest. You whispered sweet nothing’s to him in between whimpers of his name.
“Fuck,” Philip dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck.
You felt him twitch inside you, you rocked your hips up against his to further pleasure him. His hand gripped onto your hip. A few curses along with your name fell from his lips as he came undone. You stroked his hair as his muscles tensed. After a few moments, he kissed along your jawline, across your cheek and gave you a deep kiss to your lips. He lied beside you, catching his breath, after too long you two were under the covers and he held you in his arms.
“That was wonderful, Philip,” you whispered, rubbing up and down his forearm, which was crossed in front of your chest, holding you.
“You are wonderful,” Philip kissed your shoulder.
The quiet, dark room was peaceful as you drifted off to sleep in the arms of someone who loved you more than anything in this life. After tonight, you knew what was to come next and you absolutely loved the idea of spending the rest of your life with Philip.
“I’m glad we made it home before the storm hit, even though George insisted we stay…I’m glad we’re home” Alexander lead Eliza through the front door, “Light a candle would you, darling?”
Eliza was quick to light a candle and return to Alex’s side.
“Oh,” Eliza held out the light to reveal different articles of clothing scattered on the ground.
“Let us see where this leads?” Alexander linked an arm with Eliza as they followed the miniature trail of clothes you and Philip had left.
Quietly walking up the stairs, Eliza pointed to Philip’s vest draped over the stair railing. They both raised their eyebrows with a smile and continued. They reached Philip’s door and Alexander slowly opened it. Even though the light was dim they could still see Philip with his arms around you, perfectly covering your chest. You fingers were intertwined with his. Both of you looked so happy and so peaceful. Eliza let out a quiet aww.
“Well, it’s about time he fuc-” Eliza glared at Alexander, “I mean, right..about time he found a girl.”
“Oh…he’s just like you.” Eliza leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder, holding his hand as he quietly closed the door and they headed down the hall.
“Yeah, except I didn’t take that long to fuck you.”
Eliza nudged her husband as she blew out the candle.
Thousands of years ago glaciers sculpted the sandstone into amazing cliffs towering over Lake Superior, Apostle Islands. During summer, the caves are inaccessible and can be viewed only from the water. But in cold winters, when conditions are just right, visitors can tread across the frozen lake to explore the Apostle Islands mainland sea caves and the dazzling ice formations that adorn the red sandstone cliffs.
(also shoutout to @masochisticlion for helpin ya gurl edit and coming up with the title im useless w/o you abigail)
Request: EmbryxReader where the reader is his imprint but she already has a boyfriend
The sound of the floor creaking under my heavy steps made an echo through the hall as I attempted to sneak my way through the dark house; my head snapping back towards my mother’s bedroom in fear that she had heard me. I held my breath, waiting for her to emerge from her room, pissed off at how late I was coming home; again. I stood there frozen for what felt like hours, but was really less than thirty seconds, before releasing my breath and tip-toeing to my room. I fell face first onto the bed I outgrew last fall after the transformation, turning to my alarm clock and seeing it was just past three in the morning. I groaned and planted my face into the pillow, falling asleep instantly.
Comprised of 4 million acres in southwest Alaska, Lake Clark National Park and Preserve is one of the nation’s most remote national parks. Winter conditions add more challenges to those wanting to explore this gorgeous and diverse landscape, but as you can see, the backcountry scenes are worth the cold. Photo of Tanalian Falls by James Walton, National Park Service.
I’m finally finished with finals and catching up on hours. It’s been a strenuous semester, but fortunately my grades turned out significantly better than expected. It’ll be nice having a few weeks to just relax and enjoy the cold weather.
Speaking of which, femboys (and everyone for that matter) should remember to dress appropriately for winter conditions. Layers are very important and scarfs and hats can help to keep you warm. Also, lots of people say that boys can’t wear leggings, to them I say… nothing. Because acknowledging such nearsighted peanut-gallery-ing is detrimental and as such should not be enabled. Plus, leggings are crazy cozy.
That being said, jeans and regular pants work just as well and you should always what conforms to your comfort level. :)
Stay toasty everyone.
Aviator Katherine “Air Queen” Stinson (1891-1977) in Tokyo, 1916.
On July 12, 1912, Katherine Stinson became the fourth American woman to earn a pilot’s license. As the “Flying Schoolgirl” she toured the country and thrilled thousands of viewers with her stunts at county and state fairs.
In a plane she had built herself, she became the first woman and fourth pilot in the United States to master the loop-the-loop, a stunt that was considered particularly dangerous.
She was the first person of either sex to fly an airplane at night. Moreover, in 1915, in Los Angeles, California, she flew into the dark sky to spell out “CAL” with flares, thus becoming the first pilot to perform night skywriting.
In 1916, the year Amelia Earhart graduated from high school, Stinson became the first woman to fly in the Orient. Fan clubs developed all over Japan to honor the “Air Queen.” Chinese leaders were granted a private exhibition, one of the thirty-two flights that Stinson made in that country.
In 1917 she set a long-distance record of 610 miles by flying alone from San Diego to San Francisco, over the mountains of Southern California. When the United States Post Office started air-mail service, Stinson became the first woman to be commissioned as a mail pilot. She broke her flying record while carrying airmail with a 783-mile flight from Chicago to near New York City. When the United States became involved in World War I and the army asked for volunteer pilots, Stinson applied, but the military twice rejected her applications because she was a woman.
Katherine then volunteered as an ambulance driver in Europe. She was accepted, but brutal winter and wartime conditions took a toll on her health: she returned to the U.S. weak from tuberculosis. Settling in Santa Fe, she eventually became an award-winning designer of pueblo-style homes. Katherine never flew again, but her pioneering efforts lifted aviation to public awareness and acceptance.
Pisano je na engleskom, jer je namenjeno onima koji ne poznaju ove krajeve. Složićete se da su to većinom stranci. :)
Serbia is in the heart of the Balkan peninsula, and is bordering Hungary, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Montenegro, Bosnia and Croatia. We are here, in orange. And Russia is way to the right. Miles and miles and miles away. So we are in fact in Europe.
The population is between 7 and 8 million, 2 of which are settled in the country’s capital of Belgrade. The city is a fusion of history, culture and many new trends. Belgrade is definitely tourist-friendly, so you can be admiring ancient sights, and then live it up in some of the hottest clubs out there.
That being said, there’s no excuse for you to be pulling off crap in my country, that you wouldn’t even think of doing in your own.
Running around, screaming in the middle of the street, drunk/high off your ass is not cool. Anywhere. Just like thinking that every girl will want you cause you’re not from around. Or starting a bar fight cause “it might be fun”. Tourists from all over the world are more than welcome, just please behave like the civilised people you’re supposed to be.
Also, don’t worry, cause the war has been over for some 20 years.
Aside from our capital city, other big cities include Niš. Novi Sad and Kragujevac. But there are plenty of more rural sights for you to spend your time in, if you’re not a fan of big crowds and just want to rest. The mountaintops of Zlatibor, Kopaonik, Tara and many more are sure to offer gorgeous sights, all year round and great conditions for winter sports.
We’re a land bound country, but beautiful lakes and rivers will give you more amazing views and plenty of fun in the sun.
The country’s currency is the Serbian Dinar (RSD). The exchange rate is around 120 dinars per 1 euro. Our time zone is CET. The prices of transportation will vary, depending on the city.
But as in any other surroundings, beware of pickpockets, especially in public transportation. Lose the backpack. By that, I mean don’t use it. Aside from looking a whole lot more put together, it’ll be safer for your things. Carry a normal bag, with plenty of pockets, all zipped up. And make sure you distribute your cash in different places, just in case. Don’t carry around your passport, just an ID. Take a pic of your passport with your phone, just in case. You’ll thank me later.
At some point of your stay, people here will teach you how to cuss. :D
We take our sports very seriously, especially football (soccer) and basketball. The teams rivalries are a thing of legends, and you can encounter something like this, on a good day.
You’ll be safe, just keep a low profile till you get a sense of your surroundings, and for the love of everything that’s normal, don’t walk around with a camera hanging from your neck. There will be very slow traffic after a game, so walking for a couple of blocks won’t hurt.
Talking about politics, religion, the EU and its legislations, etc. are sure to start up a conversation. Just make sure you’re willing to withstand it being a very, very long one, with tons of different opinions.
We’re very loud. That doesn’t makes us hostile, it’s just that most people’s voice here doesn’t exactly talk quietly. That’s just how we are.
The food is awesome, but I’m sure you’ve already heard that somewhere.
Family matters, so we have different names for cousins, depending on the side of the family (they’re all somehow our brothers and sisters, just not actual siblings), and aunts and uncles as well.
We’re Orthodox Christians, so our Christmas is on Jan 7th and is celebrated for three days. Easter is one to two weeks after the Catholic one, and every family has a patron saint, whose day is celebrated with going to church and other religious traditions, and a fantastic meal. This day is known as a Slava.
Finally, this is our flag. We all love it very much, and whatever chance for someone to show it off… Believe me, they’ll use it.
Hopefully, this post cleared the air. And so… Welcome to Serbia!
Alliteration—repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning of words
Assonance—repetition of vowel sounds in words
Consonance—repetition of consonant sounds within words
Specific sounds usually lend themselves to certain meanings. These meanings can differ from poem to poem, but the following contain some rules of thumb
The repetition of the /t/, /b/ and /k/ sounds have a harsh effect. For example, in Robert Hayden’s poem “The Winter Sundays,” there is the repetition of the /k/ sound (“clothes on in the blueblackcold”). This echoes the harshness of the winter conditions.
The /s/, /z/, and /sh/ sounds are called sibilants. They tend to have a soothing effect. For example, in Walt Whitman’s poem “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer,” the sibilants in the phrase “silence at the stars” suggest the soothing quality of nature.
The /f/ and /l/ sounds are also considered to have a calming or soothing effect.
The repetition of a certain sound may be used to draw attention to specific words and place emphasis on them.
Slant rhyme is when words almost rhyme, but because of a differing sound or stress pattern do not exactly rhyme. For example, dark and work are slant rhymes. A poem may use slant rhymes to suggest that something is not right or the imperfections of life.
IRC is renowned for its work with refugee, displaced and vulnerable populations around the world.
The organization is working with more than 1.4 million Syrians, half of whom are children, providing medical care, emergency provisions and counseling for those who’ve been traumatized by the civil war, according to its website.
IRUSA has initiatives like winterization, which provides Syrian refugees living in Lebanon with food, heaters, plastic sheeting and other supplies needed in order to survive harsh winter weather conditions.
Beyond this initiative, it also provides assistance through items and services like diapers, bathroom and shower units, cooking sets and education, to name a few.
IRUSA has been operating in areas cities like Aleppo — where an estimated quarter-million Syrians are trapped as the eastern part of the city is besieged and barraged by Syrian- and Russian-backed missile strikes.
ARC is committed to helping the roughly 12 million Syrians who have been displaced by the war. It achieves this by providing “water, sanitation and hygiene infrastructure in collective shelters, protection support for women and girls facing violence and distribution of much-needed emergency items for people who have fled their homes but are still inside Syria,” its site explains.
ARC also works with “citizen humanitarians,” like former lawyers and doctors, who provide critical assistance to those in need.
It received a top score from both Charity Navigator and Charity Watch, meaning it uses its funds extremely effectively and practices transparency as an organization.
5. Doctors Without Borders USA/ Medecins Sans Frontieres USA
MSF is providing medical and humanitarian assistance throughout Syria, including the besieged East Aleppo.
It backs and supports around 70 hospitals and clinics throughout the country. More than 7,000 people died from war-related injuries in their affiliated facilities in 2015 alone, but in the same year, these hospitals also treated more than 150,000 wounded, about a third of whom were women and children.
Their hospitals are frequently subject to airstrikes and bombings, but the organization remains undeterred in its efforts to assist vulnerable Syrian citizens.
Prompt: “Hey! You have a cool blog here. I was wondering if
you could write something about Newt comforting the reader about her skin
disease because she is extremely self-conscious and hard on herself. If it
isn’t too much to ask, I have a similar kind of situation and it would really
cheer me up to read something fluffy and cute on that prompt. Cheers!”
A/n: I’ve chosen to give the reader Eczema since it’s one of
the most common skin diseases. Hope you like this one :)
Word Count: 917
Warnings: self-loathing I guess?
You had always hated Spring. You
loved the way the beasts in Newt’s case seemed to be extra energetic, as so
many newborns had graced the environment in this season. But no matter how cute
all the babies looked, they couldn’t help you take your mind off the intense
itchiness starting to spread all over your body. Spring, although left your
boyfriend Newt looking more beautiful than ever, left you in hives of splotchy
skin. You had eczema. It had gotten better over the years, now only contained seemingly
to the season of Spring, when pollen floated densely in the air. Along with the
horrible feeling of irritated skin, it left you a lot less confident than you
usually were (though around Newt this confidence already seemed to falter a
lot). You did anything you could to cover up the affected areas of skin, even
faking injuries so to cover the redness with bandages instead of a hot long
sleeved tee-shirt. You only wished that your disease would come to you instead
during the winter, since heat + your condition = a worsened state of discomfort.
When people think about the word “slavery” in the United States of America, they automatically think about Africans who were brought to the Americas by Europeans, and then were enslaved, simply because in every school if/when they teach about U.S. History, they skim through the slavery-epoch and only mention African slaves, but never do you read and/or are told by teachers that indigenous people of the Americas were already being enslaved by Europeans before the first slave-ship filled with Africans arrived to the shores of the Americas. And just as African-descendants who would later be known as African-Americans were stripped from their identity, African languages & African cultures, the Natives of the Americas were too affected the exact same way.
The goal of Europeans was to confuse their slaves, and detach them from their root as far as possible until finally the slaves would not know who they are, which allowed the European slavers to then label and/or give their slaves a new identity, which resulted in the misplacement, ethnic cleansing, and acculturation of both Africans & Native Americans.
The aftermath of these episodes that lasted many centuries is today seen everywhere in the Americas; Natives & African-descendants accepting and/or labeling themselves after the terminologies given by their once slavers, conquerors, and colonizers.
A large percentage of Native Americans, more so the ones in Central & South America do not know they are indigenous Americans, but instead are confused, labeling themselves Latinos (Italians), and Hispanics (descendants of Spain).
By the 1800s, after most Natives of North America had surrendered to the U.S. Army, the U.S. Government/Army promised them their own “reservations”, which was truly to toss the surviving Natives in wasteland regions, where the Natives would be forced to become farmers. The agenda was meant to keep the Natives starving & barely surviving, but somehow the Natives survived, and out of wasteland, they created a living environment, which was not part of the U.S. Government’s plan. So when the Government saw that many of these regions that were considered to be wasteland, were now places where even White people could live, then a new plans emerged!
In the late 1800s, Abraham Lincoln had broken the promise of allowing Natives to have White people’s leftovers (AKA reservations) to themselves, and then he signed a new law titled the “Homestead Bill”, in the year 1862, which was to open up the reservations, and allow masses of White population to enter, and settle in the reservations, which resulted in pushing Natives to the side once again.
Lincoln could not see Natives as humans, and he believed that allowing Natives to live amongst Whites would “dirty” the Whiteman’s lifestyle, which is why the idea of “reservations” came about; to keep the Natives in an area where they would be controlled & policed by Whites, and also away from Whites. Lincoln justified the injustice and the murder of Natives by Whites, simply by claiming that Natives could no way be human.
Lincoln gave the order to the U.S. Army to hang any Native who refused to surrender to the army, which in one instance he signed/approved the largest mass execution in U.S. History, year 1862.
Many protect Abraham Lincoln’s image, naively and ignorantly believing he was a man who believed in equality, due to “setting the slaves free”. But fact is, he was very racist, and he actually idolized people like Henry Clay.
“During my whole political life, I have loved and revered Henry Clay as a teacher and leader.” Lincoln delivered the eulogy at the funeral for Clay.
Henry Clay once made this statement; “The Indians’ disappearance from the human family will be no great loss to the world. I do not think them, as a race, worth preserving.”
Who was Henry Clay? He was responsible for the “Trail of Tears”: in 1838, under Clay’s command, 20,000 Cherokees were dragged out of their homes, which were plundered & burned, and afterwards forced them all to walk barefoot for thousands of miles, causing thousands of them to freeze & starve to death.
Another one of Lincoln’s idol, was General William T. Sherman, who in 1862 wrote to his wife, "My goal is to exterminate, not of soldiers alone, that is the least of the trouble, but the people of the South.”
Shortly before dying, Sherman lamented to his son, “I was unable to kill all of them red sons-of-bitches.”
Lincoln even asked for the Pope of Rome’s advice, as to how to treat Natives. The Pope had this to say: "It is my purpose utterly to exterminate the Sioux if I have the power to do so! They are to be treated as maniacs and wild beasts, and by no means as people with whom treaties or compromise can be made.”
After European-settlers’ constant attempts to eradicate the indigenous Americans, (more so the leadership, elders, teachers, and only leave the women and children alive to become slaves & maids) the Europeans realized that Natives kept resisting, and still managed to practice their cultures and speak their Native languages.
See, the problem for Europeans was not the fact that Native Americans survived the holocaust (A genocide which wiped out over 100 million Natives in North America, and over 150 million in South America) that Europeans committed against the Natives, but the fact that the Native identity, culture, tongue & lifestyle had survived.
Europeans didn’t want to erase every Native from the land, no! They needed slaves, servants, maids, and eventually people to exploit, so they wanted plenty of Natives alive, otherwise if they truly wanted to erase all Natives, they would have!
So the problem wasn’t the fact that there were still millions of Natives alive by the 1800s, but the problem was simply the fact that Natives still managed to hold on to their culture, their tongues, their traditions, and identities. Europeans didn’t want the Natives to have a single trace of what their root was, and it angered them to see that although they had wiped out every single Native Elder, teacher, and even burned every trace of codex/book containing Native-guidelines, science, ceremony, astronomy, math, architecture, etc., Natives still managed to pass it down to their youth verbally, which then lead the Europeans to come up with a new plan to eradicate the Native-root. This plan is today known as (quoting Richard H. Pratt) “Kill the Indian, Save the man”, meaning, “Let’s kill the Native identity, and then after they no longer know who they are, then we will convert them into what we say they are, and they’ll have no choice but to accept it!”, the genocide of a culture.
In the year 1890, the 1st Indian Boarding School was finally built in the region of the Lakota people of South Dakota. The Schools were run/founded by Christian/Catholic Organizations and funded by the Federal Government.
In that region alone, as many as 30,000 Native children were forcefully snatched away from their Native mothers, often resulting in brutally murdering the Native parents in the attempts to take the children away from them.
The goal was to simply detach the Native children from their root, cut the boys’ long hair, forbid them from speaking the Lakota language, and only speak English, forcing them to forget their Native beliefs, and begin to adopt Catholicism/Christianity.
Many children refused to stop speaking the Lakota language and as punishment, many children were handcuffed, tossed in cold rooms where they would be molested, raped, tortured, and if they continued to speak their Native language, their tongues would be cut out, and often times the children who resisted were beaten to death, thousands of them, including the boys were tortured, mutilated, and raped to death. Many of the children who attempted to escape, but were captured, they were thrown in a room with no windows, and then left to freeze or/and starve to death.
Many of the Native children who resisted, they were tortured, and beaten by the nuns & priests in front of the other children, making examples out of them, to strike fear in the minds of the other children, resulting in many becoming obedient to the nuns & priests’ rules.
Native girls, as young as preschoolers were raped to death by the priests, and many of the boys were forced to perform oral sex on both nuns & priests. Many times the children were also forced to perform oral sex, and to penetrate each other.
Most deaths faced by young Natives was due to rape, torture, starvation, and some even froze to death in the winter. The conditions these children were placed under, was as if they were all meant to die.
By the end of the “Indian Boarding School” epoch, over 100,000 Natives were already assimilated (no longer speaking their Native language, but only English) due to the Indian Boarding School program, in South Dakota alone.
The misconception of the “Indian Boarding School” is that if/when taught, it is said that these programs were only pushed in North America, specifically parts of Canada, and South Dakota, but the truth is that these School programs were pushed in every region of the Americas, from Canada, to United States, Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Panama, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, Chile, Honduras, Peru, Brazil, Cuba, Haiti, Argentina, and every other part of the Americas, and every one of these programs attempted the same exact agenda against the indigenous people of the regions: “Kill the Indian, Save the man”; detach the Natives from their cultures, original identities, languages, and then leave them confused, lost, and permanently without a sense of root, because a tree without a root is a dead tree!
The result of these episodes of forced assimilation still affects the indigenous people today, and not just in being detached & confused about who they are, but the psychological traumas of being raped & tortured still haunts them, and has lead many to become depressed drug addicts, and alcoholics, and often times committing suicide.
In every single region/country of the Americas, the high percentage of Native population do not know they are Natives, due to not speaking their Natives tongues, and also due to being assimilated, which obviously was a result of their parents or grandparents facing the “Indian Boarding School” epoch.
There are Natives today who do have a sense of identity, all thanks to their parents/grandparents who held on tight to their identity, culture, and language, despite the fact that nuns & priests tried to beat it out of them. But unfortunately a very large percentage of Native people do not speak their Native tongue, neither have a sense of identity, nor culture, due to their parents/grandparents not being able to hold to it, while nuns & priests beat it out of them.
How does this affect the Native people of the Americas, and how is this piece of history relevant today? Due to the traumas of being tortured, molested & beaten, those who survived these episodes eventually had a family of their own, and unfortunately unleashed all of the anger, frustration unto their own children, and even mistreated their own children in the same ways that nuns & priests mistreated them while in Indian Boarding Schools. Many children who were raised by parents/grandparents who survived “Indian Boarding Schools” also experienced similar mistreatment in their own household, which lead the children to grow up self-destructive, turning to drugs & alcohol, being hopeless, and ending up in prison, and also having children of their own, and the cycle repeats. The psychological traumas never ended, and the horrors faced in Indian Boarding Schools are now horrors faced by the youth today, passed down by their own parents.
Aside from these horrors, the way it affects Natives today is in the form of misplacement. Many Natives today claim the identities that belong to Europeans, such as Latinos & Hispanics. And even if you tell Natives that they aren’t European-descendnats, but rather indigenous Americans, they will refuse to accept and/or acquire their true root, simply because part of the “Kill the Indian, save the man” agenda was to teach the Natives that they are “inferior”, meanwhile the Europeans “superior", which results in Natives being ashamed to have descended from such “ugly" & “primitive” people, and instead take-on the identities that belong to the “beautiful” & “superior" Europeans. Even in households of assimilated Natives, you’ll heard them say to each other in Spanish, “Indio ignorante, feo mugroso!”.
Even after 1970s, in public U.S. schools, White teachers had the “right” to beat & punish the students if they didn’t speak English.
Internalized racism, self-hatred, and assimilation is the outcome of these episodes of being taught to hate yourself, hate your reflection, and also having your root beaten out of you century after century. And also having the same people who hate you to also be the ones who teach you about your worth, value & your place in society.- credit to Ricardo Ignacio
Since I’m fully aware that people will leave me messages like, “Get over it!”, “Stop living in the past!”, well, it’s NOT about living in the past, but about getting to the root of where today’s internalized racism & self-hatred is found. There is NO WAY that a problem can ever be solved if you do NOT know where the root of this problem is.
In order for a people to begin to “get over it”, is simply by starting over AFTER the episodes of what they’re supposed to “get over” are actually over, but colonialism isn’t over, so we’re actually still trying to solve the problem, so that AFTERWARDS we can start over, or as you love to chant: “GET OVER IT”.
Fun Fact Friday: A Natural Winter Windbreak in Sagebrush
Story By Nancy Patterson, Public Affairs Specialist, Greater Sage-Grouse Rocky Mountain Region; Photos by Nancy Patterson (BLM), Lisa Marks (BLM), and Tom Koerner (USFWS)
It’s blizzarding in sagebrush country! Negative temperatures, snowfall, and winds pull together for a threatening whiteout. What are wildlife to do out in the Big Empty to protect themselves from winter weather conditions? Let sagebrush come to the rescue!
While black-tailed prairie dogs hide out in their burrows during snowstorms and horned lizards move into hibernation, many of sagebrush country’s more than 350 species depend on lucky breaks among the shrubs for food and shelter.
Sagebrush have a long tap root, which helps secure it to the ground and draw water and nutrients from the soil. These nutrients enter the plant and some transpose to wildlife that eat their ever-verdant leaves. Mule deer, pronghorn antelope, and Greater sage-grouse all depend on this food source in winter months.