#Palestine you have a voice in every side of the world!

[livelaughlovepedri]

CD Palestino showing support for Gaza at the start of one of their latest league matches 🇵🇸

‘Club Deportivo Palestino’ is a chilean football club founded in 1920 by Palestinian immigrants in Chile.

[goldfades]

FLIPPED──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my baby jojo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | rafe is completely devoted to his pregnant wife, spoiling her endlessly and preparing for the arrival of their baby girl, who becomes the center of his world. after a life of feeling lost and disconnected, rafe finally finds purpose in his new family, vowing to protect and love them unconditionally.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x wife!reader

─ warnings | such a sweet, domestic bliss fic! rafe spoiling tf outta reader, rafe being a girl dad, mentions of toxic family, but other than that it's just so sweet.

─ ev's notes | the chokehold that gif has on me is... insane. also wheezie needs to be included more in fics like... shes so awesome (ik she hasnt done anything but thats kinda the point) ALSOOOO I NEED MORE DOMESTIC RAFE LIKEEEE, PLS SEND ME REQUESTS. i might do a part 2 for this fic cause it's so heartwarming i cannot

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

You���re lounging on the couch, wrapped in the softest cashmere blanket Rafe could find, a far cry from the one you had before. That one had been comfortable too, but Rafe never thought it was enough for you, not when his princess deserved the best. The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the house, the only sound in the otherwise still afternoon, while your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your growing belly.

Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you sink further into the cushions, feeling the quiet luxury that has come to define your life since you met Rafe. He’s out right now, picking up God knows what — probably more baby things, even though you already have a mountain of stuff piled high in the nursery.

He never does anything halfway. Every stroller, every onesie, every diaper cream has to be top-of-the-line, the best that money can buy. He doesn’t just spoil you, he suffocates you with care, but in the softest, sweetest way possible, so you don’t even mind. No, you love it, revel in it, feeling like you’ve been plucked straight out of one life and placed into another, where all you have to do is exist and be adored.

The front door clicks open, and you can feel his presence before you even see him. He’s always like that, larger than life even when he’s trying to be quiet. You sit up a little, trying to hide the way you’ve been lazily sprawled out, but he’s already at your side, his hands gently urging you back down.

“Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. His eyes flicker to your belly, then back to you, that familiar mixture of awe and protectiveness gleaming in his gaze. "I've got everything handled. You just need to rest."

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you could've gotten up, could’ve helped him with the bags, but he’s already shaking his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he can read your thoughts before you even say a word.

"Not a chance." He sets the bags down, filled to the brim with things you know you'll never touch, because he’ll do everything for you. “You’re not lifting a finger. Not while I’m around.”

His voice, low and firm, sends a shiver down your spine, the kind of reassurance that only Rafe can offer. He crouches down beside the couch, running his hands over your legs, making sure you’re comfortable—like he always does. His touch is possessive, protective, the kind that says without words, you’re mine to take care of.

You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against the plush cushions as his hand glides up to rest gently on your belly, almost like a reflex now. You’ve noticed that since you started showing, his hands always find their way there. Like he has to be close, to make sure everything’s okay. He’s obsessed, really—your safety, your comfort, your every need. It’s like a switch flipped the moment he found out about the baby, and he hasn’t let you out of his sight since.

“Everything’s fine, Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reassure him, but the way his brow furrows ever so slightly tells you he doesn’t quite believe you. He’s always worrying.

“I know,” he replies, but there’s a tension in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s already thinking five steps ahead—about the doctor’s appointments, the vitamins, the nursery. He leans in, kissing the top of your head as his other hand gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you’re carrying our baby. I’m not taking any chances.”

You smile at his overprotectiveness. It used to overwhelm you at first, this all-consuming devotion, but now? Now it’s like second nature, the way he hovers, always making sure you’re not doing too much, that you’re not straining yourself. He’s like a human safety net, never more than a few feet away, always anticipating what you might need before you even know it yourself.

He stands and starts unpacking the bags he brought in—high-end baby gear, of course. Another designer bassinet, this one with extra features that make it look more like a spaceship than something an infant should sleep in. You watch him move around the room with purpose, his movements fluid and sure, as if orchestrating a plan only he’s privy to. He barely spares you a glance, but you know he’s hyper-aware of your presence, always keeping you in his peripheral vision.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” you murmur, though you already know the answer. You say it more out of habit now, like you need to put up some token resistance to the endless stream of gifts and gadgets.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he says without looking up, his tone casual, but you can hear the edge of finality in it. It’s the same way he talks about everything when it comes to you—like there’s no room for negotiation. “Only the best for you and the baby. You deserve it.”

He sets down the bassinet and moves back to you, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his hand immediately finding yours. He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, and you lean into him, letting yourself relax in the comfort of his presence. For all his intensity, there’s something so soothing about him when he’s like this—calm, focused, entirely devoted to making sure you’re taken care of.

“Rafe, really… I don’t need all this. I just—” You hesitate, biting your lip. You want to say that all you really need is him, that he’s already more than enough. But before you can finish, his lips brush against your temple, silencing your thoughts.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got everything.” His voice is gentle, but there’s an unshakable confidence behind it, the kind that makes you believe, even for a moment, that the world outside doesn’t exist. That as long as you’re in his orbit, nothing can touch you.

You glance over at the bassinet, the sleek, modern design standing out starkly against the warmth of the room. It’s absurd, really, how much Rafe is willing to spend, how nothing seems too extravagant when it comes to you. But that’s just him—lavish, obsessive, determined to give you a life where you never have to want for anything. And despite how overwhelming it can be sometimes, you can’t deny how intoxicating it is to be the center of someone’s universe like this.

“You think you’ll ever let me out of this house again?” you tease, half-joking, half-serious. He hasn’t exactly been keen on you going anywhere without him lately. Even the grocery store is off-limits unless he’s there to push the cart and carry the bags.

Rafe chuckles softly, but there’s a protective gleam in his eye. “Not until the baby’s here. And even then, only if I’m with you.” He’s only half-joking, and you both know it. The idea of you out in the world, vulnerable, without him by your side—it’s something he can’t stand.

You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth that spreads through your chest is undeniable. It’s not like you want to go anywhere without him. Not really. The truth is, you’ve gotten used to this, the way he dotes on you, the way he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing in his life. It’s addictive, being adored like this.

“Fine, fine,” you say with a mock sigh of defeat, settling back against the pillows. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to being spoiled.”

Rafe’s smile widens, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, lingering. “Cause that’s not changing anytime soon.”

───

The moment he found he was having a girl, his world flipped upside down in the best way possible. The baby shower was small and private, only inviting your close friends and family. And for Rafe, he only invited Wheezie. He doesn't really have family or friends he'd want to be around—he only needs you, really.

Rafe never really had a family, not until he met you. Sarah was... well, Sarah. She used to be a part of his life, but they were worlds apart now, and Rafe had long since stopped trying to bridge the gap between them. She had her own life, her own people, and it didn’t overlap with his anymore. Rafe had always felt like an outsider in his own family, never really fitting in, never living up to what was expected of him. His father was distant, his mother gone, and his siblings—well, they weren’t exactly close.

But you? You were different. From the moment he met you, something shifted. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had something solid, something real. You gave him a reason to try, a reason to build something better than what he grew up with. He didn’t just want a family—he wanted your family. One that wasn’t broken or full of secrets and betrayals, but one where he could be the man he’d always hoped to be.

The moment he found out you were having a girl, everything inside him shifted. He wasn’t just Rafe Cameron anymore. He was going to be a father—a girl dad. The idea scared him at first, the weight of it hitting him harder than anything ever had. He wanted to be perfect for her, for both of you. He wanted to give his daughter everything he never had growing up: stability, love, safety. Things he never knew he craved until now.

The baby shower was intimate, just the way you liked it. Soft pastels draped the room, and delicate decorations hung from the ceiling, a far cry from the over-the-top events Kooks were known for. But that wasn’t you. And that’s why Rafe loved you. You made everything feel simple, real, stripping away the excess that had always suffocated him growing up.

Wheezie was there, of course, quiet and awkward as ever, but Rafe didn’t care. She was the only family he had left that mattered, the only one who hadn’t looked at him like he was too far gone, beyond saving. She wasn’t like Sarah, who had washed her hands of him long ago, or Ward, who saw him as nothing more than a disappointment.

As you sat in the corner, surrounded by a small group of friends, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were glowing—literally glowing, your skin radiant, your hands instinctively resting on your belly. You were laughing at something Wheezie said, but all he could think about was how surreal this all was. How he’d gotten here. From the chaos of his old life to this—a quiet, perfect moment.

Rafe didn’t need anyone else, not really. His friends? They were more like shadows of a life he’d left behind. Toxic, empty relationships that had never filled the void. But with you? He felt whole. He didn’t need the Outer Banks, the parties, the fake smiles and empty promises. All he needed was sitting right in front of him—his future, his family.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled, and just like that, the world shrank down to just the two of you. It always did. Everything else faded away when you were around. He crossed the room, ignoring the small talk and the laughter, his focus entirely on you.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, kneeling beside your chair, one hand instantly finding your belly like it always did. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning his head against it, closing his eyes for just a second to ground himself in the moment. “You good? Need anything?”

You shook your head, resting your hand on top of his. “I’m fine, Rafe. You don’t need to keep checking on me every five minutes.”

He huffed out a laugh, but there was no humor in it, just a soft kind of affection. “Can’t help it,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to look up at you. “I’ve gotta make sure my girls are okay.”

Your heart melted at that, at the way his entire face softened whenever he talked about you and the baby. Rafe Cameron—the guy everyone thought was a lost cause, a wreck waiting to happen—was now the most devoted man you’d ever met. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But he tried—tried so damn hard for you.

“Everything’s perfect,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “And you’re spoiling me too much. Again.”

A mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not possible. I’ll spoil you both for the rest of my life if I have to.”

You laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “You already are.”

He looked up at you, his eyes full of something soft, something vulnerable. “You know… I never thought I’d have this. A family. Not like this.”

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “Well, now you do. And you’re going to be a great dad, Rafe.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes flickering with emotions he didn’t quite know how to put into words. But then he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, as if he were afraid to let go.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I guess I do.”

And when his baby girl finally came, his world cracked open in ways he never thought possible. Everything changed in an instant—the noise of the hospital, the rush of doctors, the sterile white walls—all of it faded into the background the moment he saw her. Tiny, fragile, perfect. His heart seemed to stop and race at the same time as the nurse handed her to him, her soft whimpers breaking through the silence like a delicate melody.

Rafe had never known he could love something this much. Not until he was holding his daughter in his arms, her little fingers curling instinctively around his thumb, her eyes barely opening to reveal the softest hint of blue. In that moment, every bad decision he’d ever made, every reckless move, every mistake—it all faded away. Nothing mattered anymore except this.

She was his.

His chest felt tight, his throat constricting as he tried to wrap his head around it all. The weight of responsibility hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t fear that came with it. It was a sense of purpose, a deep, unshakable need to protect her, to give her everything. To never let her feel the kind of emptiness he’d grown up with.

You were lying in the bed, exhausted but glowing, watching him with a tired but content smile. Rafe caught your gaze and smiled back, tears threatening to spill over as he gently cradled your daughter against his chest, her tiny body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, barely above a breath. He felt like he was holding the most precious thing in the world, something so delicate he was terrified of breaking her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

“She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of warmth. “She’s ours.”

Rafe swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were quickly clouding his vision. His thumb gently brushed over the soft tufts of hair on his daughter’s head, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.

“She’s more than perfect,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

You smiled gently, reaching out for his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re doing it, Rafe. You’re already her father.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest. He’d never been sure if he’d be good enough for this, good enough for you, for the family you’d built together. But looking at his daughter, her tiny face so serene in his arms, he knew he’d never stop trying. He’d move mountains, tear down the sky, do anything and everything to keep her safe.

Rafe stood there for what felt like hours, rocking her gently as you dozed off, exhausted from labor. He couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter, couldn’t believe she was real. She had your nose, your delicate features, and he could already see hints of his own wild streak in her.

It terrified him, and yet it filled him with a pride he couldn’t put into words.

As she shifted slightly in his arms, letting out the tiniest yawn, Rafe felt his entire world center itself around her. His priorities had changed in an instant, everything he’d once thought was important—money, power, even his own survival—seemed so insignificant now. The only thing that mattered was the little girl sleeping soundly against his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m never letting you go. I promise.”

And in that moment, he meant it. Every word.

He didn’t need anything else—no approval from his family, no redemption from his past. He had you, and now he had her. His little family. A family that was his to protect, his to love, his to spoil with every fiber of his being.

Rafe knew he’d made mistakes—plenty of them—but as he held his daughter close, he made a silent vow to her. He’d be better. He’d always be better for her.

Because now, his world wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about her, about you. And for the first time in his life, he had something worth fighting for that didn’t come with strings attached or conditions. It was just love. Pure, overwhelming, unconditional love.

And Rafe Cameron was never going to let that go.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[k3n-dyll]

how about when things start to get spicy with sevika and she finds out it's readers first time

This got longer than I thought it would lol, but I wound up making her kinda soft in this one. The world needs more soft Sev content.

☆Men, minors and ageless DNI

Warnings... 18+, wlw, not proofread, established new relationship, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), domtop!Sevika, virgin!reader, fem!reader, AFAB reader, praise, no specific physical descriptions but reader is implied to have plush hips for like a second Word Count: 1.5k | Masterlist. | Divider Creds | Links 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ This one's been in my drafts for months I'm so sorry. I kinda rushed the ending (it's past my bedtime) and I've been hating my writing recently so a reminder that (constructive) feedback is much appreciated

"Baby...you okay?"

Sevika's voice echoes through your mind, drawing you out of your thoughts, her hands now lightly trailing from where they'd once been underneath your shirt to rest on your hips. She looks a bit concerned, her head cocked to the side as she looks up at you from where you're perched on her lap. The rigidity of your spine hadn't gone unnoticed by her, her plump lips retracting from your neck, sharp, silver eyes narrowing at the sudden show of unease in your body.

You had kissed before, briefly. It wasn't like the contact was something new, it was simply elevated. A nice, home-cooked dinner and a few glasses of expensive red wine she'd smuggled from Piltover had wound up with you in her lap, straddling her thighs as your lips crashed together in an almost desperate make-out session, her hands gripping and fondling your body in a way you'd never felt before. You'd convinced yourself that you were fine, confident even. But as her kisses turned into licks and bites along your neck, her hands traveling upward into the thin cloth of your blouse something in you snapped. It's entirely irrational, and yet you can't control it asyour mind suddenly rushes with thoughts of every single way you could fuck up in the moment and do something that would make her want to stop. Something that would make her not want to be with you anymore.

"Baby" she repeats herself, her flesh hand giving a gentle squeeze to the plush of your hip, wanting you to speak to her.

Your eyes cast down in slight embarrassment at being detected so easily in your nervousness, giving her a small smile and dismissively waving your hand in an attempt to downplay your tension, you speak.

"Sorry, babe. I'm okay" You murmur, leaning in to kiss her again, which, for a moment, she allows, but if there's one thing about Sevika it's that she isn't going to let it go. Not when you're still so stiff in her arms.

"What is it?" she demands, once again breaking the kiss and moving her head back a bit in order to look you in the eye. You let out a sigh, not having expected this to make you as anxious as it did.

"I just...I haven't really...done this before" You admit after a bit of quiet.

That admission gives her pause, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she lets out a soft hum in acknowledgment. Despite her urges, and the sticky pool of arousal that's already formed in her panties, the last thing she wants to do is have you uncomfortable.

"D'you want me to stop?" she questions, her hands already loosening their grip on you. Before she can fully move them away though, you wrap your hands around her forearms, still craving for her touch regardless of your internal conflict. You shake your head quickly in response.

"No, no, I don't want...I don't want you to stop, I'm just nervous is all"

"Nervous?" she asks, now admittedly more worried.

"I just don't wanna fuck up" The words come out quickly as you see Sevika's eyebrows knit together, not wanting her to think your reservations are her fault. To your shock, she just chuckles at your response, shaking her head before pressing a soft peck to your lips. "You aren't going to fuck up, baby." Her voice coming out as more of a calming purr rather than the concerned tone she'd had a moment ago, using her mech hand to pull you further up onto her lap. "Just let me take care of you, yeah?"

You nod, and without warning she stands up, arms hooked under your thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Well, I don't want your first time to be on that banged-up old couch" she mutters, continuing to pepper kisses along your neck as she walks you to her bedroom.

Sevika's never really been one for tenderness. And the idea of taking things slow with a sexual partner, at least most of the time, wasn't really her thing but you would never know it from the way she handles your body in this moment. Gingerly lying you down on her bed, pressing soft butterfly kisses on your cheeks and mouth. Using her mech arm to hold herself in a hover above your body, her flesh hand rides up your shirt again, slowly caressing and massaging the soft skin underneath before slipping it off of your torso entirely.

"You sure you want more?" Sevika hums against your skin, nuzzling the tip of her nose against your throat, needing to confirm that you're absolutely sure before she lets loose. You nod, but of course, your girl's not having it.

"Speak. Tell me you want more."

The soft, commanding tone of her voice sends a shiver down your spine.

"Please Sev...I want more, I'm sure. I promise I'm sure." your cheeks hot as you stumble awkwardly with your words.

That's all the affirmation she needs, her hands now working around your back to unhook and discard your bra. You feel the calloused palm of her large hand grazing against your skin, groping at the fat of your breast as her lips latch around your nipple on the other, gently sucking and nipping at it with her teeth.

Her normal impatient attitude when it comes to most things has seemingly disappeared as she makes her way down your body. It takes every ounce of self-control to make it so, Sevika denying her urge to rip your clothes off to slowly strip you down instead, then herself, hungry eyes flickering up to you with each article of cloth shed to make sure you're still okay.

It's when you feel her hand beginning to slip underneath your panties that you tense again. The stiffness earns you a softly uttered "Relax baby" from Sevika before you feel the pads of her fingers begin tracing your puffy clit, the contact almost soothing now that there's some relief to the growing ache between your thighs.

Sevika is quick to replace her fingers with her mouth, eager to position herself snugly between your thighs, hoisting your legs over her broad shoulders and pressing her tongue flush against your cunt. The feeling sends a jolt of electricity through you, the expected but new feeling of her soft lips pressing kisses against your swollen pearl, her tongue dragging along your slit rendering your brain useless.

"Oh my god..." Your hands instinctively weave into her short, dark strands as you unconsciously press yourself into her closer.

Sevika can feel her own need growing by the second but she refuses to rush you, her own cunt gushing with every little move you make. The way you whimper when she finally pushes two of her thick fingers into you is driving her absolutely wild, moaning with you against your pussy as she finds herself humping mindlessly at the scrunched blanket between her own legs.

"There you go, pretty girl...so fuckin' tight" "Taste so fuckin' good, baby.."

Every word she speaks is caught between her own stifled grunts and heavy breathing, her impatience becoming clear in the way she begins pumping her fingers ruthlessly in and out of you, audible sloshing and sucking sounds only drowned out only by your increasingly loud, untamable moaning.

Every muscle in your body seems to tense as you near your peak, back arching up off of the bed as you try to warn her you're close

"Sev, Sev....I'm g'na - fuck, I'm so close"

Sevika just groans in response, her fingers curling upward inside of you with each pump, triggering a wave of all consuming pleasure to course through your body. You've touched yourself before, but not a single one of your solo sessions could compare to the blinding euphoric feeling that rips its way through your body. Your fingers curl harder into her hair, accidentally tugging off the elastic that usually keeps Sevika's hair in place as you grind yourself agsint her tongue.

Her hands keep a firm grip on your thighs as you ride out your orgasm, only detatching her lips from your body when you begin attempting to pull back from overstimulation. A dopey grin is spread across her wet lips when she looks up at you - a rare sight to most, the small gap in her front teeth on full display.

"You did so good...so fuckin' good for me" Sevika murmurs, not bothering to wipe her mouth when she leans down and crashes her lips into your own parted ones, your breathing still short and heavy.

With how she's repositioned herself on top of you, her core hovering just above you thigh, you can feel just how wet she's gotten without even having been touched yet, the dark hair of her bush grazing against your skin and leaving a cool, dewy trail on your leg.

"What....what about you?" You ask, to which Sevika snorts, this time, purposefully lowering herself a bit more to let you feel just how drenched she truly is, as if wanting you to know that it's your fault her body is reacting this way.

"I never said I was done with you, did I?"

Reblogs are appreciated <3 || Taglist: @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @glass-apothecary, @cobraisveryhorny

[buttercuparry]

Imagine going to the university. Imagine working yourself up on your career path. Imagine being so close to achieving the success. Imagine being giddy at the thought of finally starting a life. Imagine you being 23 and having endless possibilities in front of you.

This was what life was like for Karam- a 23 year old software engineer from Gaza who was in the last semester of his university studies.

He was living his life to the fullest. Going on beach, going to cafés, going through his life. And then came October and with it the genocidal assault of Israel

Karam's life came to a standstill. He lost his home, his university, his dreams, everything. His life which he worked so hard for, changed into a nightmare.

At 23 years old Karam is now displaced with his ailing mother and rest of the family. It is difficult for his mom to live like this- in a tent, with constant fear and bombing and shelling going around. The air is polluted, the water is undrinkable, there is barely any nutritious meal available, and of course it doesn't need to be told how bad this is for an aged person who suffers from chronic diseases. Karam is very worried for his mom.

Karam who once wanted to start his life, now fears for his family, for his mom. He feels that his dream slipping away from him day by day. So he approached me two or so days ago to request me to share his story with the world. To share his voice.

Karam says that he hasn't yet lost faith and it is mostly because of the free people of the world. For 76+ years Palestine has been occupied but she persisted and will continue to persist. Right now though, she needs you by her side. Karam needs you by his side. Karam requests you to donate to his gofundme which is currently at $9517 out of the goal of $20000

He believes in the free people of the world to help him evacuate so that he can provide his mother with medical attention and once again pick up his dream of being a software engineer. So please please boost and donate to his fundraiser. Every contribution counts, there is no such thing as too little.

Karam is vetted by nabulsi

He is also on project watermelon's line number 75.

I am linking both his PayPal and Gofundme accounts. Please donate to him. Those who cannot donate on GFM, please please consider using the Paypal.

You can find him on tumblr at @karamrafeek

And on Instagram too.

[nqmonarch]

Genuinely wanna hear more regarding the No Wish SAHSRAU (Is that how it's spelled?) especially with all the new events that's happened.

Including the Dr Ratio that slid into our DMs.

First, apologies for the wait I took a while doing this request and then also decided not to post anything during the Palestine strike period because free Palestine.

And man, I don't know how it's spelled. I'd assume that's right it's so long though. Also YES Dr. Ratio sliding into our DMs except bro waltzes in and calls us an idiot ;-;

But first! Let's catch up with some of the current crew who is currently in Penacony!

Warning Penacony Spoilers

For the Trailblazer Penacony's been rough... Shortly after the death of their new closest friend, they'd been coerced into talking with Aventurine, and now had to make a decision without consulting any of the Astral Express beforehand. Sure, they were a seasoned adventurer with two missions under their belt but they still have no idea about their past or if they could trust such sketchy people.

"Aventurine, that little rat..." Their ears perked up when they suddenly heard the voice of this presumed Aeon. "I want to knock my fist against his forehead and see if there's a brain in there." The Trailblazer wouldn't try that.

But if you were acting like this maybe Aventurine and Black Swan could be trusted. The Trailblazer forced themselves to relax and tried to show confidence in their eyes. They could do this. It was good you were still by their side in the dreamscape, otherwise... what would they do?

Herta has found it's more difficult to communicate with you than the Aeons. While the Aeons simply didn't want to communicate it was as if there was some sort of wall separating her from you. It was beyond fascinating but it irked her, she wanted to get into contact with you right away. Then, as she was working to implement a simulated version of you into the simulated universe as an Aeon she had a revelation. What if... this was all a game?

Natasha had done it. Recently the eyes glanced off her more often, something she couldn't help but feel disappointed at. But upon one instance when they glanced upon her, she'd taken their warmth in full, and decided to set out. It seemed when these eyes were on her, she improved in nearly every aspect, so maybe her luck would improve as well? Even though it had been a dead end many times before she investigated Vache's worn down laboratory covered by snow searching for research. Except this time, she found something. This Aeon... was strangely benevolent and caring towards mortals.

That's all the updates we have for now on the current characters, in terms of progress. Herta is one smart cookie but who else is one smart cookie? Dr. Ratio!!! That man I love him so much. Sampo is also a potential worrying addition.

Given in the current event you can get either Sampo, Guinaifen, Asta, or Yukong for free, so let's see how they react.

Dr. Ratio

...This was interesting. The plot unfurling behind the scenes of Penacony was to be expected, Aventurine was being a pain in his ass also to be expected, but an Aeon looking at him? A smart Aeon. One who also must hope to purge the world of ignorance! A noble pursuit. Or perhaps, they'd realized their own ignorance and sought to rectify it some of the Aeons were rather lackluster in this manner after all. But they'd likely never change in their ways.

And you're no longer looking at him, that's fine. Is it a bit more chilly in here or is it just him? An interesting side effect of your gaze then, the feeling of warmth. He wondered why that happened, the look of Nanook was dangerous and suffocating, near fatal for any mortal. That of Yaoshi's was said to be sickeningly sweet and suffocating as well. Nous' was cold and calculating, judging your every asset and whether or not you had potential. Everyone had potential, they just had to choose to rid themselves of their ignorance. If the gaze wasn't suffocating maybe... you were a weak Aeon? One that had just formed or had been thought to have died.

Interesting. Aeons, the topic no scholar knew completely about. Herta was researching deeply into them, Dr. Ratio supposed he could always ask her yet he didn't want to feed into her ego. There were other ways to get the information though.

Guinaifen

"Hello, hello! Can you all hear me? Good morning fam! And welcome to Little Gui's stream!"

It was then when Guinaifen suddenly felt warmth wash over her. Oh, maybe it was because this stream was her first normal one after all the ghost catching business but she found herself getting flustered...? Flattered...? She wasn't sure exactly how to describe it yet she felt even more energetic than usual! As if she could go on for hours! When she ended her stream, the warmth was still there and she still felt as if she was being watched.

Wait-- wasn't this how people said they felt when they were being watched by an Aeon? Something similar to this right?! If even an Aeon was watching her, she was definitely going to be famous! When Guinaifen went to tell Sushang about this news, she found Sushang had run into the same thing! Weren't the two of them an impressive pair? :)

E1 Asta

Research had been going smoothly, partly thanks to the eyes always observing Asta. With them came the warmth that brought confidence and innovation she felt she wouldn't feel otherwise. But, she could feel the warmth all the time now. She doubted an Aeon would be able to watch her all of the time so had she been blessed? That was good, she was able to focus on all the stars and her research more now and learn more in less time!

But... why did she feel so forlorn? As if she had been deserted? Had you just blessed her and moved on your way? Herta... Herta knew a lot about Aeons maybe she would know something about what had happened to her, maybe she would know if you're still around.

E1 Yukong

Even after it all Yukong wished to return to the skies. Despite failing her comrades, despite all those around her who she'd cared for yet failed to stop their death, despite the burning wreckage she'd had to painstakingly crawl out of. Yukong wished to fly. In this long life where even the things she'd once loved had dulled, the longing to fly was forever there.

The warmth was on her constantly now, she completed her paperwork faster, she created ingenious plans, but what did it matter?

"I want to go back," Yukong had spoken one day out to the silence of the world and when the warmth remained she realized, perhaps she could go back and fly. Maybe... it would be okay. But for now her fear remained, albeit comforted by the sight of an Aeon.

What a strange Aeon, to care so much for a mortal.

Sampo (spoiler warning for Black Swan quest, although I was kind of confused the whole time so some information may be incorrect)

Now this would be fun! Sampo had known he was right, this was only another clue in the right direction! And this Aeon, watcher, player, reader, whomever you were appeared at the perfect time! Whenever your gaze fell upon him, he could feel his speed increase as well as the rest of, if this were to be a game, his "stats." He knew he wasn't crazy, of course he'd never had that idea in the first place! He'd be able to retrieve his mask much easier now, he could deal with you later.

It wouldn't be anything bad, don't worry, Sampo Koski is always happy to have a new business partner and friend :) !

If there's anything else you wanna hear about it I'd be more than happy for ideas cause I love these little guys (the characters) . It's just them living their life except they're stronger and feel as if they can enact their dreams! And maybe they gain a friend or a small crush on the way but hey that doesn't mean anything until Penacony comes out with some tech they worked on with Herta that allows you to visit in your dreams but no way something like that will happen, right?

Also trailblazer is genuinely so stressed like imagine having to make the decisions to save an ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET and you don't even know who the you are or what you've been through, you're genuinely so lost but hey you're alive, somehow.

[widowmaxff]

Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!

enough for you

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!

a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.

It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.

You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"

You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"

She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.

"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?

"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.

Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.

"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.

The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.

You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.

You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"

She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.

At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.

You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.

"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”

That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.

“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”

When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”

“What?”

“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.

“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.

”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”

“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.

"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.

Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"

"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.

And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.

[energeticwarrior]

GLOBAL STRIKE FOR GAZA 1/21-1/28

Apologies for my delay in using my platform, I found out about this strike yesterday and was taking some time to figure out what to say

Palestine has been suffering long before October 2023 and I need everybody to understand that. There is a genocide happening right now and if people don't use their voices to speak up, then they will become a lost cause in our history. We do not want the stories of their people to be told 50 years from now with a side comment like "oh no I wish someone would've done something" or "I can't believe that actually happened." Our voices can spread like a wildfire, so I hope that everybody joins the global strike this week in support of Palestine and uses their voices, social media, platforms, etc to voice their support.

If you are unsure of where to start, I suggest reading up on the history of Israel's occupation of Palestine dating back to 1948. Here is a free PDF download of this book. To be honest, I have not finished reading this book yet, but it's been highly recommended to me by multiple people. Buying the book from the author would be better, but I understand that it's not within everybody's budgets which is why I included that link.

______________________________________________________________

If you follow this link, this is a great guide on how to participate and support the strike this week. Doing every single thing is not realistic but do what you can and that is enough.

Here are some Palestinian journalists you can follow on Twitter, as they are the most reliable source. Many news sources worldwide have been misconstruing this "conflict" and completely ignoring the blatant genocide happening before our eyes. These journalists are Palestinian people who have been living this their whole lives (there are many more people and the Twitter thread can be viewed here)

Additionally, here are some other Twitter accounts that you can receive information from.

I urge everybody (art blogs, fandom blogs, etc) to put their interests on pause for the week and use that time to educate themselves on what's been going on for the last several years. This did not start in October. Keep speaking up and uplift Palestinian voices!

______________________________________________________________

Resources and other ways to help:

BOYCOTT STARBUCKS AND MCDONALDS (among other things)

Donate E-Sims to help journalists be in touch with the rest of the world

Stop supporting Zionist celebrities (ex: Noah Schnapp, Gal Gadot)

Uplift Palestinian journalists

Donate menstrual products to menstruating people in Gaza

Donations to UNRWA, Islamic Relief Canada, Arab (daily clicks and proceeds go to UNRWA)

If I missed anything, please feel free to message me or send me something in my inbox. Again, I urge everybody to pause their week to stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people and continue to uplift their voices. We are all stronger together.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@moralesispunk

⭒ Simon is a tummy man

@guttednights

⭒ olderboyfriend!simon

@youronlydarlin

⭒ loser!simon

Just loser!Simon who's unknowingly a sex god

⭒ sucking Simon's dick like crazy

Suckin Simon's dick so good he starts beggin'

⭒ loser!simon who's unaware of just how big he is

⭒ jus suckin simon's dick til hes overstimulated

@undercoverpena

⭒ Keep You Close

he's pretty sure he's in love with you. not that he'll admit it, acknowledge it.

⭒ I'm With You

he knows how he feels, he knows how she feels. yet he fucks it up all the same.

⭒ About Someone, That Isn't You

memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

@bingoboingobongo

⭒ In His Eyes

Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

@ohmygraves

⭒ After your leave you came back with a ring

memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

@peppermint-toads

⭒ The night Simon retires

@oceantornadoo

⭒ Simon in love

simon riley being in love but he actually just doesn’t know it.

@shoukiko

⭒ Ghost vs. Simon

@konigsblog

⭒ hickeys w Simon

@suguann

⭒ Husband!Simon

@slvtforsimon

⭒ bouncing on Simon's cock

@tacticaldiary

⭒ Capture in Tandem | Recovery in Tandem

"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"

⭒ A Fighting Chance | Frayed Stitches Don't Hold

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

⭒ It All Comes Crashing Down

She presses the metal radio against her lipa and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

@halcyone-of-the-sea

⭒ Til It Hurts | part 2

You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?

⭒ Harvest Storms

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

⭒ Another Word for Protection

Simon Riley x Niece!reader (platonic series)

⭒ Black Metal Bourbon

⭒ Between Dreams and Sugars

Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.

@lovelyghst

⭒ soft tummy simon riley

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

⭒ The Roomate Series

Three years ago you decided to go to college after being out of high school for so long but the only problem was that you needed a place to stay. You found an ad about someone needing a roommate for their apartment and ended up becoming roommates with a man named Simon Riley.

[notthesomefather]

[[Image description: a banner with the Palestinian flag with overlaid text that reads "Heathens for Palestine."]]

Some Things We in the United States Can Do:

Contact your elected officials and demand the immediate halt of financial/military support to Israel, and a permanent ceasefire. Identify and contact your governor, congress members, senators, and the White House.

Donate to organizations like the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, World Central Kitchen, and others.

Amplify Palestinian voices. Reblog/retweet/share their content.

Attend rallies and protests if you are able to do so.

DO NOT LET THE MOMENTUM FADE.

Some Things We as Heathens Can Do:

Continuously challenge, and refuse to tolerate, Islamophobia anywhere but especially within heathen spaces.

Offer prayers to Freyja, Odin, Tyr, and Thor for the safety and victory of the Palestinian people.

Create bindrunes, rituals, or prayers that help you balance your anger with self-care. Fight the fight as much as you can, but know when it's time to recharge/regroup.

Hávamál 155: For the eleventh I know, if I have to lead my friends to battle, under their shields I sing, and with power they go safe to the fight, safe from the fight; safe on every side they go.

[thecraftydragonc]

Hello everyone, I am opening up donation commissions! Specifically for these donation drawings the cause I want to focus on is the ongoing genocide and humanitarian crisis in Palestine. It is more important than ever to donate to help Palestinians as Israel's attacks only get worse by the hour. It may be easy to feel disconnected from something happening on the other side of the world, or that there’s nothing you can do to help. However, even just a small act of kindness can change someone's life. I know this small donation campaign won’t single handedly change the world, but I am hoping it can be that small act of kindness that someone needs right now. 

So, how will this Donations for Drawings campaign work? It’s pretty simple, you donate to a cause that helps Palestinians and I will draw something for you! The more you donate, the better the drawing will be, but no donation is too small! This campaign will run for 2 weeks from 5/29 to 11:59pm PST on 6/12. Additionally the campaign won’t end until we reach the goal of at least $100 in donations (but we can go over the $100 goal in the 2 week timeline). I am accepting donations to family fundraisers, eSims, and donations to organizations/charities, however escape funds and eSims are a priority right now. If you need help figuring out where to donate, here are some options. This isn’t every fundraiser out there but it’s a good place to start.

Family Fundraisers (These are all vetted fundraisers): Gaza Funds (If you’re having trouble deciding on a family to donate to this site will automatically suggest a fundraiser when you open it) Operation Olive Branch Help Gaza Gaza Evacuation Relief Fund fundsforgaza | Instagram | Linktree

eSims: https://gazaesims.com/

Organizations/Charities: PCRF CareForGaza Supporting Displaced Families in Gaza https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2680 State of Palestine | World Food Programme Doctors Without Borders The National Emergency Appeal: Medical Aid for Palestinians Crips for eSims for Gaza | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising (if you can’t donate an eSim yourself you can donate here)

Once you donate you need to send proof of your donation to me. This can be done through a direct message or this google form https://forms.gle/bUzTb4bgCefc3Wec8. Proof of donation should include a timestamp, what type of donation you made, and how much you donated. Please remove or blackout any personal identification or banking information. Also, specifically for eSim donations you must also show that you forwarded the eSim to gazaesims@gmail.com. I am only accepting donations made during 5/29 or later.

For the drawings themselves, I am up for drawing anything (though I’m best at drawing dragons), Oc’s or Canon characters, just nothing that is NSFW, gore, or has hateful imagery. In your message please include a link to the character's profile (like a toyhouse page or wiki for canon characters) and/or include a reference image. The more you donate the better the drawing will be! Images of Palestinian solidarity can also be included in the drawing for free if you’d like, just specify that in your message. Additionally, these drawings will likely be posted to promote this donation campaign as well as donating to Palestinian causes in general. I can either tag you in these uploads or you can remain anonymous if you wish. 

Thank you for reading all of the info for the donation commission! If you have any questions feel free to ask.

Additionally, if you want to help Palestinians but unfortunately can’t donate, there are still so many ways you can help! You can participate in boycotts https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott, do your daily click https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/, call and email your representatives to demand a ceasefire, and keep yourself educated by listening to Palestinian voices and learning from resources like https://decolonizepalestine.com/.

[opencommunion]

a voteblue told me the other day that if I don't vote, my government "won't know I exist" and therefore won't know my grievances. I had to laugh because my governments at the state, federal, and local level have longstanding documented policies of surveilling my ethnic group! the government knows very well that I exist — from the moment I was born they identified me as their enemy, an "anchor baby" and "sleeper cell," a demographic threat and a national security threat. before I was old enough to form any opinion about my government they had already labeled me an enemy of the state. they know all about Arab grievances and have 0 interest in listening to us because they do not see us civilian constituents who they serve, they see us as hostile foreign others.

you have to get this through your head if you want to understand how Arabs in the so-called US move politically. we move with the understanding that this country is by default antagonistic and hostile towards us on the basis of our race, and to whatever extent we engage in electoral politics, we do so knowing that our government is fundamentally not on our side and getting our perspectives heard (much less empathized with) requires a lot of extra work beyond casting a vote. policies of surveilling Arabs are consistent across red and blue states and admins, and at every level of government (which is why I roll my eyes when I'm told to vote down-ballot — all the candidates at the local level hate me too!)

to give you a glimpse of how our relationship with our government actually works, here are some excerpts from a 2022 congressional testimony by Maya Berry (executive director of the Arab American Institute):

"The federal government has justified counterterrorism and other law enforcement practices in the name of national security for what is a seemingly endless 'war on terror.' In the process, the government has viewed specific communities, including Arab Americans and American Muslims, as a threat to national security and in so doing, has securitized their relationship. ... While not an attempt at a comprehensive list, the following are select examples of government and law-enforcement policies that have targeted Arab Americans (and in some cases, American Muslims and South Asian Americans) or viewed them through a securitized lens. .... In each of these cases, government or law-enforcement policies can be seen as facilitating discrimination rather than functioning as policies of a state actor obligated to safeguard and defend the rights of its citizens. In the wake of the killing of Israeli athletes in a terrorist attack at the 1972 Munich Olympics, the Nixon Administration created the surveillance program known as Operation Boulder. The program sought to silence Arab and Arab American voices within the United States through investigation, surveillance, and harassment. It 'specifically targeted Arabs with U.S. citizenship, resident aliens of Arab descent, non-Arab Americans sympathetic to Arab causes, as well as the relatives, neighbors, friends, and employers of Arab individuals.' Operation Boulder officially ended in 1975 after it was deemed 'not worth it' by law enforcement, though its demise would be announced in a major media outlet as 'A Plan to Screen Terrorists Ends.' In 1987, seven Palestinian men and a Kenyan woman were arrested in Los Angeles for distributing a magazine of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, an organization then considered an advocate for world communism. For the students, known as the 'L.A. 8,' this was a deportable offense under the McCarthy-era McCarran-Walter Act. In 1989, a federal judge declared the charges unconstitutional and, in 1990, Congress repealed the Act. However, two members of the L.A. 8 faced the continued threat of deportation for decades until the government finally ended their effort to deport them in 2007. ... The case of the L.A. 8 is well known among Arab Americans. First, it targeted pro-Palestinian activists and raised the question of whether Arab immigrants or Arab Americans who advocated for Palestinian human rights were indeed protected by the same constitutional rights to free speech and association. Further, in proceedings of the case, it was discovered that the DOJ had a plan for a detention camp called, 'Alien Terrorists and Undesirables: A Contingency Plan.' ... In 2004, it was learned through a Freedom of Information Act request that the Census Bureau had shared demographic data about Arab Americans with the Department of Homeland Security on at least two occasions, in 2002 and 2003. Without a Middle East and North Africa (MENA) category on the Census, it is well documented that Arab Americans are an undercounted community. Yet, DHS was provided with data showing cities with more than 1,000 Arab Americans and zip code-level data broken down by country of origin.

In 2011, the Associated Press published an investigative report on New York Police Department (NYPD) counterterrorism and surveillance programs that directly targeted Arab American Muslim businesses, mosques, and communities in New York and New Jersey in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. The revelations of the breadth and depth of the NYPD’s surveillance program were shocking, with use of widespread 'ethnic mapping,' and reporting on innocent people going about their daily routines. The NYPD’s spying program and others like it are not only unconstitutional, but are also ineffective and significantly harmful to the communities they infiltrate. Not a single lead on terrorist operations resulted from NYPD’s spying activities. In 2011, the Obama Administration released the 'Strategic Implementation Plan for Empowering Local Partners to Prevent Violent Extremism in the United States.' The plan was introduced as a domestic counterterrorism strategy and became the foundation for the federal government’s Countering Violent Extremism (CVE) programs. In 2016, DHS began the Interagency CVE Task Force, which essentially approached community outreach to American Muslim communities as part of counterterrorism programming. Beyond the serious issue of the lack of an evidence-based foundation for CVE, these programs sought to deputize local community members and organizations to surveil their own communities on behalf of the U.S. government.

In 2011, a series of reports by an investigative journalist exposed biased FBI counterterrorism training material. Characterizing American Muslims and Arab Americans as prone to violence, some of the material’s 'highlights' include statements that 'mainstream American Muslims are likely to be terrorist sympathizers,' comparisons between Islam and the Death Star from Star Wars, and assertions that the 'Arab mind' is 'swayed more by ideas than facts,' and that unlike the 'Western Mind' being 'even keel,' in the Arab world, ‘Outbursts and Loss of Control [is] Expected.'

... In 2021, the Biden Administration established the Center for Prevention Programs and Partnerships (CP3). While appearing to be an extension of the Obama Administration’s Countering Violent Extremism (CVE) programs, Biden Administration officials have distanced themselves from previous CVE efforts saying they have taken a new approach. However, like its predecessors, CP3 seems to rest on flawed concepts about 'radicalization' that perpetuate stereotypes of communities and undermine public trust in government."

the US government pays very close attention to us, and it's only to our detriment. invisibility is not the issue here, white supremacy is, and you can't vote white supremacy out of a nation built on it

[valcarcel]

I know that a white (close to be a billionaire) celebrity decided to come on her huge platform (platform that was provided by the public that believed she was an humanitarian) to cry and center herself and her emotions in the conversation of many FREAKING GENOCIDES and say that she's gonna log off of social media because it's "too much" for her and that she can't do anything (she can open her freaking wallet and donate to the people that need it the most, she can also educate her 430M of followers about what's happening and provide links where they can donate) and she also though it was a good idea to tell you that your voice don't matter, that your post and boycotting won't do sht to stop the horrible things that are happening on the world, and I want you to know that that's not true, your voice matter, your post can help educate people on what's happening, Palestinians, Congoloness, Armenians and every population that is suffering keeps asking us to listen to them, to share their voices and to NOT IGNORE THEM, there's a reason why Israel cut off all types of communication from Palestine, because thanks to the people that keeps talking about it and sharing what's happening, more and more people keeps helping them and being on the side of the Palestinians, don't lose hope, don't let a white celebrity tell you that what you're doing is useless, cause is not, a lot of people have been able to realize that what is happening is wrong, and that's thanks to the post that miss "philantropy" thinks won't work, keep sharing, keep posting, keep talking about it and keep boycotting, those people that are suffering don't have the privilegde of turn off their phones and go travel with her billionaire besties on her private jets while polluting the air and be ok, they have to live through hell, the least we can do is to share their voices, don't let stupid celebrities tell you to shut up about it cause it makes them sad, you have more power than what you think, DO NOT IGNORE THE ATROCITIES THAT ARE HAPPENING IN THE WORLD!!!

[theautisticjedi]

'This is not Kamala's fault' I mean. It kinda is.

You tried to court Republicans who were never gonna vote for you anyway (and didn't) instead of focusing on the youth vote. She had only four months to get people to vote for her because Biden was too cowardly to step down, so that's fighting a battle uphill, which is not entirely her fault. You doubled down on securing the border, which most leftists are against/have concerns about the way these immigrants are treated. You doubled down on your support of the ongoing genocide instead of taking a strong ceasefire stance, which a lot of younger people care about.

Was her being a woman a reason she didn't win? Absolutely. Was her being black a reason she didn't win? Absolutely. Was rampant disinformation a reason she didn't win? Absolutely. Was her campaign strategy a reason she didn't win? Absolutely. Was her support for the ongoing genocide a reason she didn't win? Absolutely.

Am I annoyed at people who voted third party? Yes. But those third party votes would not have done much to get her to win.

Am I even more annoyed at people who didn't vote? Yes. Especially those who didn't vote not because they hated both candidates, but because they didn't care.

Democrats need to learn they can't just hold people's rights over their heads every election. The people are tired.

Do you remember at the DNC conference when people wearing Palestine shirts got kicked out? Do you remember when they laughed in the protesters' faces? Instead of supporting these people, or even just ignoring them, they got nervous, it would make them look bad and kicked them out. They have no spine. They're too worried about losing money than raising their voice.

You can't just keep saying 'well the other side is worse' every single time. We all know that.

The democrats will attack black people, mulisms, and trans people for not voting for them, even though those demographics primarily did. But they'll ignore the demographics that didn't because they either see it as a lost cause or because they think they don't need them.

If you made it to the end of this post, take a very deep breath. Take a break from your phone for an hour, go wash your hands, use the bathroom, take a shower, eat something, brush your hair, go outside, play with your pets, go to a rage room, go to a cat cafe, watch your favorite movie, read that book you've been meaning to forever, take a pain relief pill (because I bet you have a headache right now), drink some water you're dehydrated.

Don't sit in defeat, get angry, and use that anger. Demand change from the democrats. Don't take anything that happens in the next four years lying down. Get angry. Get angry at people who voted for him. Get angry at democrats turning a blind eye to genocide.

And remember one thing. You must outlive Donald Trump. You can do it. It's what got me through 2016-20. Do it out of spite. Do it out of rage. They want you to lay down and die, but you must get up. You must keep going. When you're feeling hopeless, just remind yourself that you will see the news that he has died sometime in your future. Maybe not as soon as you like, but it will happen. You will live to see a better world one day. And you will.

[slightlygaywritesslightlytoomuch]

Alex cabot x fem!Reader

FREE PALESTINE

ANGST

Masterlist

(Credit to owner)

The slam of the apartment door echoed through the usually quiet space, vibrating in your chest like a tuning fork. You flinched, the cheerful melody you were humming dying in your throat. Silence, heavy and thick with unspoken emotions, followed. It wasn't the comfortable silence that often settled between you after a long day, but a tense quiet that pressed down on you, squeezing the air from your lungs.

"I need to be alone," she spat, her voice tight, each word laced with barely suppressed emotion that crackled in the air. It was a command, not a request, and the harshness in her tone scraped against your heart.

You blinked, taken aback by the iciness radiating off her. Concern gnawed at you, a cold knot forming in your stomach. You knew she'd had a rough day at court, the details of which she hadn't shared, but this, this was different. This was a side of Alex you'd never seen, a raw vulnerability masked by a storm of anger.

"Okay," you managed, your voice barely a whisper. The book you were reading felt suddenly heavy in your hand, the words blurring into meaningless shapes. You wanted to reach out, to hold her close and chase away whatever demons haunted her, but the look in her eyes, a desperate plea for solitude, held you back.

You retreated to the kitchen, the echo of the slammed bedroom door slamming against your chest. You busied yourself with mindless tasks, setting the table for a dinner that suddenly felt pointless. Every clinking spoon, every rattle of a plate, resonated in the tense silence, a constant reminder of the storm brewing just down the hall.

Half an hour ticked by, each second stretching into an eternity. The worry gnawing at you intensified with every passing minute. You replayed the day in your head, searching for any missed signs, any unspoken hurt that might have caused this sudden withdrawal. But you came up empty.

Pushing aside your apprehension, you grabbed two plates, the weight of them a grounding force amidst the swirling anxieties. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and headed towards the bedroom door.

"Hey, I made your favorite," you started, pushing the door open a sliver. You tried to keep your voice light, unassuming, but it came out strained, a reflection of the turmoil within.

"I said I want to be alone!" Alex snapped, her voice laced with a raw anger that cut deep. The words were like a slap, the sting echoing in the hollowness of your chest. The plates nearly clattered to the floor in your surprise.

"Alex," you said, your voice thick with a mixture of hurt and concern. "You had a rough day, let's just eat and-"

"Don't tell me what I need!" she roared, her voice breaking slightly at the edges. "This isn't about the damn case!" Her green eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now blazing with a fire that scared you. "Just leave me alone!"

The venom in her words struck you like a physical blow. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You had never seen her like this, so vulnerable and hurting, lashing out in a way that tore at the fabric of your love. But the harshness in her words scraped away at the understanding you were trying to build.

"Fine," you choked out, the hurt twisting in your gut like a knife. "I'll be out." Your voice barely rose above a whisper, but it was enough. The words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the fury that had just erupted.

You turned away, the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. The apartment, once a haven of warmth and love, now felt suffocating. You stumbled out the door, the cool night air a welcome shock to your system.

Tears streamed down your face, blurring the city lights into streaks of shimmering color as you drove. Each sob that wracked your body echoed the shattering of your world. The hurt was a dull ache that spread through your chest, constricting your breath, making every inhale a struggle.

You loved Alex, fiercely and unconditionally, but her words echoed in your mind, each one a searing reminder of the rejection, the feeling of being shut out. You had offered comfort, a listening ear, a safe space to share the burdens of her day, and she had thrown it back in your face.

You wrestled with those thoughts as you drove, the familiar streets blurring into a canvas of neon lights and rain-streaked asphalt. You questioned everything you thought you knew about your relationship. Had you been insensitive? Had you not been there for her enough?

The self-blame was a bitter pill to swallow, mixing with the hurt of Alex's rejection. You pictured her on the bed, alone with her demons, and a fresh wave of tears welled up. You ached to hold her, to whisper reassurances, but her harsh words echoed, a barrier you couldn't seem to penetrate.

Hours bled into one another, the rhythmic whoosh of the windshield wipers a monotonous counterpoint to the storm raging inside you. Exhaustion eventually settled in, a heavy weight dragging at your eyelids. You found yourself parked on a deserted pier, the sound of the waves crashing against the pilings a low, melancholic lullaby.

Stepping out of the car, you walked to the edge, the cold spray stinging your face. The vast expanse of the ocean mirrored the vast emptiness you felt inside. You leaned against the railing, a sob escaping your lips, raw and uncontrolled.

"Why, Alex?" you whispered into the night, the wind whipping your voice away. The question hung unanswered, lost in the vast indifference of the sea.

As the first fingers of dawn began to paint the sky with streaks of pink and orange, you knew you had to go back. The anger that had flickered earlier had died down, replaced by a profound sadness, a deep ache that threatened to consume you.

When you entered the apartment, the air was thick with a tense silence. Alex was curled up on the couch, a half-eaten plate of takeout abandoned on the coffee table. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her usually vibrant face pale and drawn.

Shame flickered across her face as she saw you, quickly replaced by a defensiveness that faltered as she saw the raw vulnerability etched on your own features. The sight of your pain seemed to yank her back from the ledge she'd been teetering on.

"Alex," you started, your voice hoarse from crying. You wanted to unleash a torrent of words, to express the hurt and confusion you felt, but the words wouldn't come. All you managed was a choked sob that escaped your lips.

She flinched, as if struck, and her eyes welled up again. In that moment, the dam broke. She scrambled to her feet and threw herself into your arms, burying her face in your shoulder. Her body wracked with silent sobs, the sound a physical manifestation of the pain she'd been trying to hold back.

You held her close, stroking her hair gently, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. This wasn't the apology you craved, not yet, but it was a start. A silent acknowledgment of the hurt inflicted, a fragile bridge reaching out across the chasm that had opened between you.

As she cried, you whispered reassurances, letting her know you were there, that you wouldn't leave. The night may have been long, filled with tears and doubt, but in the quiet vulnerability of the morning light, you found a flicker of hope. The road to healing wouldn't be easy, the trust that had been shaken would need to be rebuilt, but as you held Alex close, you knew your love for her was strong enough to weather any storm.

[fairuzfan]

I saw your post about the Henna Night, hope it's ok for this comment from a Palestinian living in Diaspora who spent her child/teen/young lady years living in Palestine. Every village/city/family in Palestine of course does things a little different than others, this is my own experiences from going to like 100 weddings, lmao. Imo there is simply no Wedding like a Palestinian Wedding, it's the cultural backbone of our society gatherings. I personally hate when people compare a Henna Night to a Bridal Shower bc it's not interchangeable at all, but I acknowledge that westernization as well as accommodation's of Palestinians living in Diaspora has lead to people comparing Henna Night/Bridal Showers and have interjected Bridal Shower stuff into our tradition. Imo Henna Night is way more fun than the actual Wedding, I always loved going to those more. So the Bride's side of the family prepares for the Henna Night by inviting close family, friends, and usually women from the Groom's side as well. The Bride's family spends the day before or the day of the Henna Night preparing Henna Platters. As well as small bags of candy & small bags/cones of Henna paste as things to give to guests. Depending on the wealth of the family sometimes there more stuff but those are the main things, but usually there is always something to give the guests like tea, coffee, sodas, and sweets. During the Henna everyone wears Thobes, it's so beautiful to see the different styles of our Thobes. The Bride looks so beautiful in a Thobe/Headdress, I love it. The Bride's family also prepare platters of Henna decorated with flowers that (usually) the old woman/matriarchs will have the honor of carrying it on their heads (some dance without holding onto the platters with their hands! so iconic) as the women dance in a circle around the Bride. The grandmothers, or whichever woman with a good strong voice who Zagreet (idk how to do transliteration) but its singing where the lead singer will call out lines like "Heeyee this girl is the most beautiful in the world! Heeyeee we have come to celebrate her happiness! Heeyyeee may Allah's blessings fall upon this most gracious girl!" the lines are always made up on the spot so the singer has to have a sharp mind, the singer will also make up lines singing about the Bride, her smarts, beauty, personality, her generosity, or the generosity of her family, compliments to the Bride's mother, etc. These are always ended with the Ululation (trilling sound) that all women make at the end. During the Henna Night there's lots of singing, dancing, music playing, it always takes place at the Bride's Mother's house so its just such a cozy feeling of womanhood/family & bringing in the women of the new groom's family into the circle. Old women sitting on cushions/chairs with their canes, someone has a tubla (hand drum) & is playing, little girls in their thobes running around, teens showing off their thobes, the Bride's family, sisters, cousins, aunts, serving sweets & drinks, the Bride being celebrated. Continued...

omgggg i love reading this so much thank you.

yeah the bridal shower is not a great analogy because bridal showers in like the us are... not at all a celebration i feel like of the women the same way henna night is. you're right weddings are the cultural backbone in a way that i think a lot of nonpalestinians dont realize because of how many traditions they use throughout the whole ordeal.

[tamamita]

Maybe this is a stupid thing to express, I've just seen so much Isr*eli violence today and I feel like maybe you can help me understand. All I've heard from people talking about the situation in Palestine is that it's "very complex" and requires a lot of research into the history of the place to get a "better understanding" of it. But like. Why can't they work to solve the conflict without butchering people? Why is the international community allowing Israel to keep doing what they're doing? I guess the answer is their American alliance, but is there no one willing to step up and actually do anything about this? What can I do about this? I've raised money, I've boycotted, I've signed petitions, it feels so hopeless, is it all for nothing?

Politically, americans need a stronghold in the middle east and use Israel as a puppet state. If there was an armed conflict between Israel and the Arab state, the US would be the first to intervene on the side of Israel, thus keeping the other states from intervening. The U.S keeps vetoing any resolution the UN presents on anything relating to the illegal occupation of Palestine, effectively making the UN one of the most useless peacekeepers in the world. So Israel makes a valuable ally in the geopolitical game. With the Trump administration, several deals and political changes undermined a lot for the Palestinian struggle for liberation not to mention the large support for the Christian right. Furthermore, negotiations become challenging when the Israeli Regime keeps allowing Zionist settlers to colonize Palestinian lands and evict Palestinians from their homes, and with every UN resolution that is presented to prevent these actions, the Americans keep vetoing them away. As a result, Palestinians have no choice but to retaliate, and when they do, they become demonized by Western media. When a Palestinian Christian journalist was shot in the head, the US and Israeli government did nothing, showing that Israel is an apartheid state that will surpress Palestinian voices and continue its oppression of the Palestinian people. The international community (sans the US) does condemn Israel, but there is little they can do with the Veto system in place. However, US influence of the MENA region has decreased significantly over the past few years.

Religiously, there is the ever-growing Evangelical movement in the U.S that adheres to the idea that Jewish people should be allowed to return to Israel so that they can hasten the return of Jesus, who will convert them enmass (144.000 to be precise). This is also referred to as Christian Zionism and is a very popular doctrine among the Evangelical sector. The Christian right is extremely vocal in its support for Israel in the hopes that Israel will become fully Jewish (this means they won't take any other Christian life into account). This idea is rooted in the Book of Revelation where the idea of a Jewish nation will signify the end times, and only can the apocalypse take place once the Holy Land becomes exclusively Jewish. Israel becomes a large tourist attraction for Evangelical Christians as a result and there are even Evangelicals disguised as Jewish people (such as Messianic Jews) that go around and lure Jewish people in the hopes of converting them.

In short, Fuck Zionism and the settler colonial state in general, and the Evangelical Christian Church is an evil death cult that advocates genocide in order to bring about the apocalypse.