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#residential neighbourhood
karkatbug · 10 months
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college roommates davekat where dave comes out to karkat bc he trusts him and karkat responds as you would expect
1/2/3/4
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malfnction-54 · 8 months
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i love living here my nextdoor neighbour has been hammering on something since 8 pm last night... i go outside at 12 pm all i hear are sounds of construction around me... it smells like weed outside
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tamarrud · 3 months
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Okay but who saw the footage of the aftermath of the Israeli bombing of a flat in Beirut last night, in which they assassinated Hamas members? Here's a picture fyr
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Do you see how precise the attack was? There are buildings on both sides of the targeted flat and they look almost intact!
The accuracy is quite intriguing when you think of all the flattened neighbourhoods in Gaza and the residential buildings turned to dust, where supposed Hamas leaders were, according to Israel. Nearly 70% of Gaza's homes and about half of its buildings have been destroyed by Israel since October, killing over 20,000 Palestinians in the process.
If it doesn't make sense to you it's because you're using the wrong words to describe and understand this. Try "ethnic cleansing" and/or "genocide" next.
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ynbne · 1 month
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islamforalloftheworld · 9 months
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Ukraine war: At least 43 injured in daylight strike in Kharkiv region At least 43 people, including 12 children, have been injured after a missile struck the carpark of a residential building in Ukraine's Kharkiv region, local officials say. What is believed to be a Russian Iskander missile landed in the town of Pervomaisky at about 13:30 local time. Ukrainian Prosecutor General Andriy Kostin said there were only residential buildings in the area. A one-year-old and a 10-month-old were reportedly among the injured. Mr Kostin said targeting the residential buildings amounted to another war crime from Russia. Oleg Sinegubov, the Kharkiv regional governor posted several pictures of the damaged building to Telegram. They showed smashed windows, dark smoke clouds and an overturned car. "At least half of the neighbourhood is in an uninhabitable state," Anton Orekhov, the chairman of Pervomaiskyi was quoted as saying by local media. Russia has not immediately commented on the incident, and Moscow has previously denied targeting civilians. Pervomaisky is about 90km (50 miles) south of the major city of Kharkiv and relatively far from the current fighting hotspots, which are predominantly in the Donbas region. But the north-eastern Kharkiv region was the focus of heavy fighting in the early days of Moscow's full-scale invasion last year, with Ukrainian forces fighting back Russian attempts to advance further into the country. Earlier on Tuesday, Russia said it had brought down five Ukrainian drones aimed at Moscow and its surrounding region, but reported no casualties or damage. SOURCE: AL JAZEERA
#At least half of the neighbourhood is in an uninhabitable state#Ukraine war: At least 43 injured in daylight strike in Kharkiv region#At least 43 people#including 12 children#have been injured after a missile struck the carpark of a residential building in Ukraine's Kharkiv region#local officials say.#What is believed to be a Russian Iskander missile landed in the town of Pervomaisky at about 13:30 local time.#Ukrainian Prosecutor General Andriy Kostin said there were only residential buildings in the area.#A one-year-old and a 10-month-old were reportedly among the injured.#Mr Kostin said targeting the residential buildings amounted to another war crime from Russia.#Oleg Sinegubov#the Kharkiv regional governor posted several pictures of the damaged building to Telegram. They showed smashed windows#dark smoke clouds and an overturned car.#Anton Orekhov#the chairman of Pervomaiskyi was quoted as saying by local media.#Russia has not immediately commented on the incident#and Moscow has previously denied targeting civilians.#Pervomaisky is about 90km (50 miles) south of the major city of Kharkiv and relatively far from the current fighting hotspots#which are predominantly in the Donbas region.#But the north-eastern Kharkiv region was the focus of heavy fighting in the early days of Moscow's full-scale invasion last year#with Ukrainian forces fighting back Russian attempts to advance further into the country.#Earlier on Tuesday#Russia said it had brought down five Ukrainian drones aimed at Moscow and its surrounding region#but reported no casualties or damage.#SOURCE: AL JAZEERA#Youtube
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quasi-normalcy · 4 months
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Back in the bad old days, colonialism was easy to justify; you just had to say, "Well, they're heathens! Time to introduce Christianity until just about everyone is dead and incidentally become fantastically rich." But then, when liberalism displaced Christianity as the dominant ideology of the West, you needed to get a bit more creative: "Wow, look at how these savages treat their women. Better civilize them for their own good in a way that, rather counterintuitively, involves murdering them (including women) by the millions and, incidentally, also becoming fantastically rich." And that's basically where we've stood ever since, except we now also say "look at how they treat The Gays! Better flatten some residential neighbourhoods over it!" And people just accept this as a perfectly reasonable line of argument, even when they themselves don't particularly like women or gay people.
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sayruq · 5 months
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The Israeli military has destroyed nearly 200,000 housing units, either completely or partially, since the start of its latest assault on the Gaza Strip following Hamas's surprise attack on October 7. Mohammad Ziyara, the Palestinian minister of public works and housing, said on Thursday the bombardment has "erased entire families from the civil registry,", as well as "neighbourhoods and residential communities". "[It] also destroyed facilities, including hospitals, places of worship, bakeries, water filling stations, markets, schools, and educational and service institutions,” Ziyara added in a statement. Home to some 2.3 million people, the Gaza Strip covers a tiny area of 365sq km (141sq miles). According to the UN's humanitarian office, at least 45 percent of all housing units in the enclave have been damaged or destroyed in the Israeli attacks. Among the areas hit the hardest have been Beit Hanoon, Beit Lahiya, Shujaiya, the neighbourhoods around the Shati refugee camp, and Abasan al-Kabira in Khan Younis. An estimated 1.4 million people in Gaza have been internally displaced due to the relentless bombardment, with some 629,000 sheltering in 150 UN-designated emergency shelters. Meanwhile, Israel's total blockade on fuel entering the enclave is seriously affecting critical functions in all hospitals, risking the lives of at least 130 premature babies in incubators, 1,000 kidney dialysis patients who have had to reduce their treatment sessions, and front-line ambulance workers who cannot access the sick when the fuel runs out. Since 2007, when Hamas came to power, Israel has maintained strict control over Gaza’s airspace and territorial waters and restricted the movement of goods and people in and out of the enclave
If you click on the article, you'll be able to see the before and after pictures of Gaza. The sheer devastation is mind boggling
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breslicht · 7 years
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Tbilisi
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circe-is-struggling · 1 month
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My heartfelt apology for not posting for a while, enjoy :)
Support Palestine
cw: pure smut, that’s it
A video of you and Ellie in the car, it’s rather plain, actually. She’s holding your phone, facing her way, while you seem a little occupied. But for some reason, the point of the video seems quite unclear, because for some reason, Ellie just can’t seem to get the right words out.
And instead of words coming out of her mouth, its moans and whispered swears broken up with stifled giggles from the two of you. And oh, now it’s quite obvious, what with how her head is slowly leaning back and hitting the headrest, and the first syllables of a failed sentence tries miserably to escape Ellie’s throat.
“Say it.” You whisper, sounding as though your voice is muffled.
A silence follows, then a small slurp, then a snicker as you hear her whimper. From your point of view, it’s just so fucking funny seeing Ellie struggle like this. The camera’s out of focus now, shaking slightly and facing the wrong way, but who can blame her for not focusing on the angles? Bless her, with how she tries to lift her head and look into the camera as she speaks.
“I just….just wanted to-fuck- to say that I love my girlfriend so m-much.”
“She makes me….?” You stare up at her expectantly, wiping your lips with your tongue as you slowly trace two fingers up and down, the way she’s soaking the leather seats translating into such a wet noise that the video could pick up on it.
“…She makes me s-sooo happy, and……makes me feel so good-holyshitdon’tpleasedontstop-”
“I won’t, baby.” What you say is muffled once again, your tongue now occupied all on her puffy clit, sucking and swirling above your two fingers, thrusting in and out at just the right angle. And thank god for your other hand staying unoccupied, as you take the reins on recording (since Ellie is too fucked out to care at this point).
The new angle, showing your face as you tongue fuck her, and showing the foggy car windows behind you, just barely illuminated from that busted streetlight. As you glance up at Ellie, all your encouraging open mouthed “uh huh”s and moans at how she tastes just turn into little giggles at what the fuck you’re both doing right now - fucking your girlfriend in some residential driveway, meaning you need her to stay quiet because you both were too horny to wait until you got home.
But you couldn’t really care less, as you feel her clench harder and harder on your fingers, her tattooed arm coming down to card her fingers through your hair. And you really can’t find it in you to care about anything at all as her soft hold turns into a harsh grip and tug as you make her unravel in your tongue, using your fingers to brush against her sweet spot as you slurp and suck everything Ellie gives you.
You bite your lip and smile as her breathing finally goes from heavy, whiny pants to soft sighs, pulling yourself up from the floor and into her lap. And just as you lean down to kiss her, you make sure the camera’s got both of you in frame as you make out with Ellie. You make sure she tastes herself on you, coaxing open her mouth and slipping your tongue against hers which, to your delight, elicits another small groan from her, and then a slow, fucked out smile against your mouth - one that you reciprocate.
And it feels so good to slide your hand up and pull at her hair this time, while you start to slowly grind and swivel your hips against hers - a taste of what’s to come next. You feel her hands slowly begin to trace up, up, up your back and under your clothes, a small sign that she’s ready for another round. But before you can do anything more, the fucking porch light at the end of the driveway turns on, and fuck, did the front door just open?
“Shit!”
Followed by loud snickers from the both of you as you clamber into the passenger side and Ellie stomps down on the peddle, pants still down and all. And as she tries to navigate the unfamiliar neighbourhood, you lean over and try to help her with her pants - pulling them up and grabbing her belt. But she stops you, taking a hand off the wheel and gently pushing you off.
“We’re picking up where we left off the monent we get home. Don’t bother with that, baby.”
So you just lean back into your seat, watching the houses go by as you wait with a smile on your face. Something tells you she’s gonna do good on that promise.
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intersectionalpraxis · 3 months
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Let's Talk Palestine's latest updates on their free broadcast channel on Instagram *IMPORTANT*
December 21st, 2023, 7:41pm [EST]
Today’s updates 🇵🇸
• Northern Gaza no longer has any functional hospitals.
• PRCS ambulance centre in Jabalia ‘invaded’ by Israeli forces; Palestinian Red Crescent Society crews and paramedics have been abducted and taken to an unknown location.
• An entire residential block of the Rimal neighborhood in Gaza City was blown up by the IOF. Al-Rimal is a popular cultural, social, and business center, considered the city’s most prosperous neighbourhood.
• Europe 1, a leading French radio station, has reported that 4,185 French citizens 🇫🇷 are serving in the Israeli army in the Gaza Strip.
• Israeli forces bulldozed the Sheikh Shaban cemetery in eastern Gaza, destroying graves and exposing bodies. This is not the first such recorded incident.
• Israeli protestors tried to block aid trucks entering Gaza.
End the violent occupation, ceasefire immediately and permanently, free all Palestinian prisoners, and free Palestine!
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malfnction-54 · 9 months
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zvaigzdelasas · 3 months
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Israel killed senior Hamas official Saleh al-Arouri on Tuesday, in a targeted attack in the Lebanese capital Beirut, officials from the Palestinian movement have said.[...] Dahiyeh, where the explosion took place, is a largely residential neighbourhood but also serves as a stronghold for the Lebanese armed movement, Hezbollah, and also houses Hamas offices.[...]
Lebanese Prime Minister Najib Mikati condemned the explosion, calling it a "new Israeli crime".[...]
Arouri lived relatively freely within Beirut, but he was placed on a US terrorist list in 2015 and had a $5m bounty on his head by Washington.[...]
The killing sparked protests that engulfed the occupied West Bank on Tuesday, including in Hebron where Arouri was once a student. The head of Hamas's political bureau, Ismail Haniyeh, slammed the killing, calling it a “craven assassination” by Israel. "The assassination of the leader al-Arouri and his brothers by the occupation is a fully-fledged terrorist act, a violation of Lebanon's sovereignty, and an expansion of its aggression,” Haniyeh said. [...]
Hezbollah said that the attack "will not go without a response or punishment", adding that the group has "its finger on the trigger".[...]
“We are in a high state of readiness for any scenario,” [Israeli Military Spokesman] Hagari said, without acknowledging the strike.
2 Jan 24
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tamarrud · 3 months
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full fucking offence but for the past 70 days you all have literally seen israel attack hospitals time and time again, bomb residential buildings, flatten entire neighbourhoods, wipe out entire families, bomb places of worship, literally blow up schools, strike refugee camps, block food and aid trucks and cut fuel and water and cell communication off 2.8 million people......... and much more...
you've had the past 75 days of extensive documentation of our genocide. we have been screaming about it for the past 75 years!
you absolutely can no longer use the excuse of "I don't know enough". you absolutely cannot even lie about not being sure who the aggressor is. you absolutely cannot. we both know you're lying.
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ynbne · 2 months
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luveline · 7 months
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I am humbly requesting a steve zombie au where the reader gets hypothermia hehehe😌
ty for ur humble request babe ♡ steve zombie au —steve freaks when you show symptoms of hypothermia. fem!reader 2k
"Steve, I think there's something wrong." 
Steve raises his head to show he's listening, keeping his gaze on the map. You say it through shivers, sleeves pulled down over your makeshift mittens. "What's wrong, honey?"
He's noticed you aren't yourself today, and he thinks a soft tone is the least he can give you. The stupid map in his hand is tattered, creased down the middle from folding and unfolding. He thought getting to Michigan would be easy, walk in one direction and keep on, but you both need to eat and rest and the weather is too cold to go any further. He needs to find a residential, tonight. 
"I feel off. I'm tired and I…" Your mumbling drifts off. 
Steve shoves the map under his arm, "What? Tell me." 
"Cold," you say, slurred, offering your hands. "I can't feel my fingers." 
You're wearing socks over your hands, the best gloves Steve could offer. He takes them with a severe frown, unhappy when the cold of your skin permeates through. You're ice. 
"And you don't feel well?" he asks, feeling up your arm to your neck. 
Steve digs under the layers of your shirts, hoodie, coat, feeling for your pulse. It feels alarmingly slow. He'd never guess from looking at you how slow your heart is pumping. 
Steve doesn't know everything, but he knows you're not supposed to be this cold for this long. You shiver as his fingers warm your neck, a pained hum coming from the very back of your throat as he pulls you in for a hug. 
"Okay," he says, rubbing your back even though he knows it's pointless. "Don't worry. We can't stay outside anymore, huh?" 
Steve aches to have to drag you down road after road, stretches of streets littered with little protection to offer. The roadside stores here are rocked by the elements, windows smashed and ceilings caving in. You're stumbling by the time a crop of houses appear in the distance, lethargic. Steve thought it was bad that you were cold, of course, but this is a more primal fear. You're not cold, you're freezing, actively freezing. 
"You're okay," he says again, his gentlest reassurance. "Sweetheart, just a few more minutes. See that house, the big brown shutters? That's where we're going. Can you do it?" 
"I can do it," you murmur. 
"I know, but it's my turn to ask stupid questions." 
Dead trees line the street, a planter of flowers by the door turned to crisps. Steve props you against a beam of wood holding up the angled porch roof and opens the screen door. He tries the handle on the interior. It's locked, a good sign. 
He's admittedly feeling the adrenaline of your imminent demise. Furious with the world and circumstances and himself for letting this happen, Steve kicks the door down with three big kicks. The bang rings like a shot through the entire neighbourhood, he imagines, but there's no time to worry about it. 
"You have to–" little gasp, Steve's head hurts, "have to sweep the house," you say as he pulls you inside. 
If there's something in here, he has to risk it. Out of options. 
He's as softhanded as he can manage dropping you into a seemingly intact couch. The room appears untouched from whoever left it, rather plush, it's a room Steve would've liked to live in. 
He grabs your face. You meet his eyes, startled. 
"I'm going upstairs for blankets. If something happens, you yell for me as loudly as you can. You don't have to say anything, just scream. Seriously." 
"Yeah," you say breathlessly. The last street of walking and the few steps has exhausted you. 
"Don't sleep," he says severely. 
"No, I won't." 
Steve dumps his bag on the floor. He backtracks to the porch to grab yours and wedges the splintered door closed using your bag as a temporary stopper. 
You must be hypothermic, cold for days, too cold to sleep last night, and it's all Steve's fault. We can do it, he'd said, just another push. He hoped for better standing further out of Indiana. None of it will matter if you get sick. 
He spins to walk up the stairs, falls weak and rushes back into the living room to check on you. 
"Everything's okay," he says, taking your face again into his hands and kissing your forehead. It's purely selfish. 
You touch his elbow. "I know." 
Steve takes off his jacket and puts it over your lap. The house is vaguely warmer than outdoors but it's far from enough to make a difference to you. Heart in his throat, he bounds up the stairs and onto the landing, an L-shape with one bedroom straight in front and four doors on left. The smell of gore coming from the closed master bedroom explains how it could be this clean; it wasn't uncommon at the start of the apocalypse for people to lock themselves in, kill themselves and their families. He has no interest in seeing it, nor unleashing the mould spores that come with decomposition. Whatever blankets were in there are worthless now. 
He takes a left and opens the door with a slam. A teenage bedroom not unlike his own back home, a simple comforter on the bed. He grabs it and tosses it on the landing, dipping into the second room. Bathroom, nothing worth having. The third room is a utility room with a jackpot of folded sheets, towels, padded quilts, and a comforter rolled into a log. He throws everything onto the floor and forgets the fourth door, arms fit to burst with fabric as he descends back downstairs. 
"Steve?" you ask.
"Yep, yes. I'm here." He drops the blankets at your feet. "Are your clothes damp?" 
"I think… no." 
"I'd tell you to take off your jacket," he begins, shaking the biggest comforter out over you as he talks, "but I want as many layers as possible. Come here, sweetheart. Lift your back a little." He tucks you in like a pastry. "Good. Good, thank you, sweetheart." 
"You're being very nice," you mumble, your eyelashes twitching like you've dimes weighing down your eyelids. 
"I'm always nice." 
"No," you say, your head falling back into the couch cushions. It's a family couch made of soft fabrics, not the showy leather piece you'd expect in such a mammoth lodging. "You're okay, though." 
Steve piles blankets on top of you. The cold is eating at him too, his nose stiff, his hair standing on end as gooseflesh ripples over his arms. 
When you've been sufficiently sandwiched, he feels your face again. You're already warmer, his hand creeping down into your shirt to feel for your pulse. Ropey. 
"Sweetheart, I need you to try and perk up," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 
"Not feeling perky." 
"Ah, but you're always perky. You're my sun, 'cos I'm so awful," he says, panic lining his plea. "You are. I'm going to make you something hot to eat." 
"Hot air?" you ask, slinking further down into your hump of sheets. 
"I think we might be in luck." 
He speaks too soon, really. The cupboards are lackluster. The can of soup he'd been hoping to find doesn't materialise. But there's a small can of ravioli, enough salted fish to make any tom cat happy, and a jug of water beneath the sink. He looks at it and sighs in relief. You have two litres of rainwater in your bag, and that had been the rations. This is one less thing to worry about. 
Steve makes sure that there kitchen door and the patio doors in the lonely dining room are locked, taking a big cooking pot from the pantry (depressingly empty bar a bag of sugar spilled on its side and a sack of grain) and a saucepan from atop the stove. He checks the gass but he's never that lucky, resigning himself to a typical campfire when it doesn't work. 
"Steve, put it back on," you say as he comes back in, your eyes a little wider, slightly more alert. You've pulled your arms out from under the blankets, with his jacket in your hands. 
Steve has kissed you before. You haven't talked about it out loud —he'd like to think a lot has been said in hand-holding, in spooning, and in you hand carding through his hair. He's eager to kiss you again, dumping his findings to hold your wrists. "Thank you," he says, kissing you clumsily, your lips cold. "Now put your arms in. I'll pull the blankets up." 
"Can you kiss me again?" 
"I'm trying to make you some hot water." 
"I'm warm enough already. Please?" 
Steve kisses you again. This time, he closes his eyes, puts his hand against your jaw. The sound of your lips pressing to his seems loud in the quiet. 
He pulls away with a final peck. "Are you feeling warmer?" 
You blow breath up your face. "Bet so." 
Steve rolls his eyes and turns away to make a campfire in the stolen pot. He'll boil some water in the saucepan for you to hold like a risky hot water bottle, and make some warmed ravioli. It'll be sweet. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, he'll scavenge for supplies in the neighbourhood. Tonight, he'll burn the kitchen chairs. They don't need them anymore. 
"Settle in," he says, opening his backpack for the fire starters and matches. "We'll stay for a while, okay?" 
"Yeah, okay. Sorry for the fuss." 
"Are you kidding?" He can't look at you. He'll probably cry. "It's cold. You were cold, and we didn't– I knew your coat wasn't good enough but I just thought… well, it's my fault. It is. And I– I care about you so much," —he says it in a rush, true but unused to admitting his feelings to you or anyone— "I can't do this without you. I'll take better care of you, I swear. It won't happen again." 
"You know what would really warm me up?" you ask. 
Steve turns on his heel. "Let me make you something to eat." 
"Not hungry, just cold." 
Steve tamps down a giddy smile into one more respectable. "Let me feel your pulse," he relents, lifting the heavy layer of blankets to climb inside. Its roasting, the warmest he's felt in weeks, and your arm is alive as he slides into your side. 
He puts his hand against your neck, waiting for a steady bump. 
"Am I cured?" you ask. 
Steve sighs in relief. "You're cured." 
You wrap your arms around him. Life with you and in this situation is an endless rise and fall. Something shitty happens, you scrape by, and, as a victory, he gets to hug you in the end. 
"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asks. 
"You just said I was cured, Steve," you mumble, digging your face into his shoulder. "Just. Stay here. Keep feeling me up." 
"Not what I'm doing." 
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