#mediterranean fever
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egyptianx-x · 5 months ago
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حمى البحر المتوسط (٢٠٢٢)
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hirazuki · 1 year ago
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Deep in the throes of updated covid booster-induced fever, so it won't be happening tonight, but I finished Nocturne and I have Thoughts™ about it, which I will probably share eventually, once I have the energy. I also have Many Thoughts about some things I've seen slinking around the tags, which I will not be sharing, as I definitely do not possess the requisite energy for that XD
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bommagoni · 22 days ago
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Familial Mediterranean Fever Pharmaceuticals Market Size, Share
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maysasalman · 3 months ago
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Hello 👋
I am Maysaa Aldahdooh from Gaza
My family and I face death, hunger, and diseases every day. We are a Palestinian family in desperate need of help from anyone with a conscience, a compassionate heart, and a sense of humanity.
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Help us overcome these hardships
I am reaching out to you today, standing firm as I face unbelievable challenges. Life in our area has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and escalating conflict, and I am struggling to secure the basic necessities for myself and my family.
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About me and my family:
I am 38 years old, married to Hossam Al-Dahdoh, and we have five children: Jamal, 16 years old; Mohammed, 14 years old, who suffers from a chronic disease called Mediterranean fever and must take lifelong medication; Layan, 10 years old; Amir, 8 years old; and Zina, 4 years old.
We have faced death dozens of times. Our home was completely destroyed and burned, making it uninhabitable. We have been displaced more than 20 times, and we narrowly escaped certain death on several occasions. We have lost over 100 relatives, neighbors, and loved ones. The area where I live is constantly under attack with rockets, shelling, and gunfire. We struggle to find healthy food, clean drinking water, and my son Mohammed cannot access the medicine he needs. My children can no longer attend school. For these reasons, my family and I have decided to leave Gaza in order to protect the lives of my children from death, hunger, disease, and the effects of war, food shortages, lack of medicine, polluted water, and the destruction of educational institutions
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How you can help us:
• By making a financial donation, even if it’s a small amount.
• By sharing our story on social media.
• By offering words of support and encouragement.
The funds we raise will be used for:
• Helping us with the costs of leaving Gaza and seeking refuge in a country that respects human rights, such as Canada, Belgium, or Sweden. The costs of leaving are high, with each family member needing $5,000 to leave. Since we will be starting our life from scratch outside Gaza, we will also need housing, electrical appliances, cooking utensils, education expenses, medicine, and health and psychological rehabilitation.
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Every contribution, no matter how small, is important.
There is no donation too small. Every donation brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you are unable to contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your network can make a huge difference.
Thank you and gratitude:
Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for your kind generosity. You can help us get through these difficult times.
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maysaasalman · 4 months ago
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Hello 👋
Hello, I am Maysa Al-Dahdouh from Gaza. My family and I face death, hunger, and diseases daily. We are a Palestinian family in need of help from anyone with a living conscience, a compassionate heart, and an understanding of humanity.
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Help me overcome adversity
I am reaching out to you today, standing firm against incredible challenges. Life in our area has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and escalating conflict, and I struggle to secure the basic necessities for myself and my family.
About me and my family
I am married to Hussam Al-Dahdouh, and I am 38 years old. I have five children: Jamal, 16 years old; Muhammad, 14 years old, who suffers from a chronic illness known as Mediterranean fever and must take lifelong medication; Layan years old; Amir, 8 years old;
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We have faced death dozens of times. Our home was completely damaged and burned down, making it uninhabitable. We have been displaced more than 20 times and have miraculously survived certain death. We have lost over 100 relatives, neighbors, and loved ones. The area I live in is subjected to rockets, shelling, and gunfire every day. We struggle to find healthy food, clean drinking water, and medication for my son Muhammad. My children can no longer return to school.
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Therefore, my family and I have decided to leave Gaza to protect our children from death, hunger, and diseases due to the war, lack of
food and medicine, water pollution, and
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How you can help us
• By making a financial donation, even if it's small.
• By sharing our story on social media.
• By offering words of support and encouragement.
The funds raised will be used for:
• Our departure from Gaza and seeking refuge in a country that respects human rights, such as Canada, Belgium, or Sweden. The cost of leaving is high, as each family member needs $5,000 to leave. Since we will be starting our lives anew outside Gaza, we will also need housing, appliances, cooking utensils, education expenses, medication, and health and psychological rehabilitation.
Every contribution, no matter how small, is important
No donation is too small; every contribution brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you cannot contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your generous network can make a significant difference.
You can donate through the page below
Thank you
Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for your kind generosity. You can help us overcome these difficult times.
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amirasainz · 9 days ago
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Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl ♥️
The Nurse and her Racer
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The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Yn hurried through the bustling paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix. The air was thick with the scent of fuel, burnt rubber, and the faint tang of espresso from the hospitality suites. Ferrari’s scarlet banners fluttered in the morning breeze, and the hum of engineers fine-tuning the cars filled the air. Yn, as always, was in the thick of it, her medical bag slung over her shoulder and a warm smile on her face. She was the heart of the Ferrari team, the one person everyone turned to when they needed comfort, care, or just a listening ear.
But today, something was off. Charles, their golden boy, was missing.
“Where’s Charles?” Yn asked, glancing around the garage. The usually lively Monegasque driver was nowhere to be seen. Lewis, leaning casually against a counter with a cup of tea in hand, raised an eyebrow at her.
“Didn’t you hear? Poor Charlie’s down with the flu,” Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Fred decided to bench him for the weekend. Can’t have him passing out in the car, can we?”
Yn’s heart sank. Charles had been looking forward to his home race for weeks. She knew how much it meant to him. “Is he okay? Has anyone checked on him?”
Lewis smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Funny you should ask. Fred’s sending you to his apartment to take care of him. Seems like you’re the only one he trusts to handle our precious Charles.”
Yn blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Me? Alone? At his apartment?”
Lewis chuckled, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Oh, don’t look so nervous. It’s just Charles. Besides, I think he’ll be thrilled to see you. He’s been giving you those puppy eyes for months now.”
Yn rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat. She and Charles had always shared a special bond. He was sweet, kind, and endlessly charming, and she couldn’t deny that she had feelings for him. But she had never acted on them, and neither had he. It was an unspoken thing, a quiet understanding between them.
“I’m just his nurse,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.
Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Sure you are. Just don’t forget to take care of Leo too. That dog’s more protective of Charles than Fred is.”
---
An hour later, Yn found herself standing outside Charles’ sleek, modern apartment in Monte Carlo. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her scrubs and adjusting the strap of her medical bag. Before she could knock, the door swung open, revealing a very sick-looking Charles. His usually bright eyes were dull, his hair messy, and his cheeks flushed with fever. He was wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants, looking far from the confident F1 driver the world knew.
“Yn?” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
“Fred sent me,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “You look terrible, Charles.”
He managed a weak smile. “Thanks. I feel terrible.”
Behind him, Leo, Charles’ dachshund, trotted over to Yn, wagging his tail excitedly. She bent down to scratch his ears, earning a happy bark from the little dog.
“At least someone’s happy to see me,” she teased, straightening up and giving Charles a gentle smile. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
Charles groaned but didn’t argue. He shuffled back to his bedroom, Leo following closely behind. Yn took in the apartment as she followed him. It was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Mediterranean. But it was also surprisingly cozy, with photos of Charles’ family and friends scattered around, along with a few racing trophies.
She helped Charles into bed, fluffing his pillows and tucking the blankets around him. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face.
“You’re too good to me,” he murmured.
“It’s my job,” she replied, though her cheeks warmed at the way he was looking at her. She busied herself with taking his temperature and checking his vitals, her touch gentle and professional.
“You’re burning up,” she said, frowning. “Have you taken anything for the fever?”
Charles shook his head. “I forgot.”
Yn sighed, rummaging through her bag for some medication. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
He chuckled weakly. “Maybe. But you’re here to take care of me, so I’ll be fine.”
She handed him the pills and a glass of water, watching as he swallowed them. Leo jumped onto the bed, curling up at Charles’ feet and giving Yn a look that seemed to say, I’ve got this.
“You should rest,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
Charles hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”
Her heart melted at the vulnerability in his voice. “Of course,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Charles shifted slightly, making room for her. Before she could protest, he reached out and pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. Leo wiggled closer, pressing himself against her side.
“Charles—” she started, but he cut her off.
“Please,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Just for a little while.”
Yn’s resolve crumbled. She relaxed into his embrace, her hand resting lightly on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her palm, and she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Leo let out a contented sigh, his tail thumping against the blankets.
For a while, they lay there in silence, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Yn’s mind raced, torn between her professional instincts and the feelings she had been trying to suppress. Charles’ arms around her felt so right, so natural, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way.
“Yn?” Charles’ voice was barely a whisper, drowsy from the medication.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.”
She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair. “Always, Charles. Now go to sleep.”
He hummed in response, his grip on her tightening slightly. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and she knew he was asleep. Leo let out a soft snore, his little body rising and falling with each breath.
Yn stayed there, her heart full, knowing that this was where she was meant to be—right by Charles’ side, taking care of him, loving him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
---
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. Yn stayed with Charles, nursing him back to health and enjoying the quiet moments they shared. By the time the race was over, Charles was feeling much better, and the sparkle had returned to his eyes.
As they stood on his balcony, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean, Charles turned to her, his expression serious.
“Yn.” he said, taking her hand in his. “I need to tell you something.”
Her heart raced, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I… I really like you. More than just as my nurse. You mean so much to me, and I don’t want to hide it anymore.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled up at him. “I like you too, Charles. More than you know.”
He grinned, pulling her into a tight hug. Leo barked happily, wagging his tail as if he knew exactly what was happening.
And in that moment, Yn knew that her life was about to change in the best way possible—with Charles by her side, and Leo as their loyal protector.
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hamza-gaza · 5 months ago
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🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻📢📢📍Looooook they are burning in the tent ⛺💔💔😭😭
📍Dear friends and compassionate souls🛑❤️‍🩹🍉
My name is hamza and the voice of my family, and I am reaching out to you during one of the most challenging times in my life. My family and I are currently living in Gaza, and the situation here has become increasingly dire. With winter approaching and the threat of further conflict looming, we find ourselves in urgent need of assistance to evacuate and find safety.
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And today i will show you pictures before the war and after the war .
Please donate to us we are civilians and we want to live👉🏻. https://gofund.me/abf54bf1
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We are a family of 7 , including my elderly parents and young children. The stress of our current living conditions—struggling to find shelter and basic necessities—is overwhelming. Every small donation can make a tremendous difference, providing us with the means to escape this situation and start anew.
💔💔 **Help Save My Little Sister** 💔💔
Dear friends and kind-hearted souls,❤️🤍
I am reaching out with a heavy heart to share the struggles of my little sister, who is bravely battling Mediterranean fever. This chronic illness has taken a tremendous toll on her young life, and the absence of necessary medicine makes each day a fight against overwhelming pain. 😢💔
She deserves a chance to live without fear of the next attack, to laugh and play like any child should. But without the right treatment, her health continues to decline, leaving our family feeling helpless and desperate. 😭💔
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Every bit of support, whether emotional or financial, means the world to us. Your kindness can help us find the resources she desperately needs to manage her condition. Together, we can give her hope and the chance to enjoy life again. 🌈💪
Please 🥺 share our story, offer your prayers, or anything else you can do to help. Your compassion can make a difference in her life! 🙏💖
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻 click here
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Your generosity can bring hope and warmth❤️‍🩹 to our lives during this challenging time. Please consider supporting us in any way you can🙏🏻, whether through a donation 🙏🏻🙏🏻or by sharing our campaign with others.🔗📌📢
From the bottom of our 🥰💕, thank you for your compassion and support.❤️‍🩹📍
Hamza and my family
https://gofund.me/abf54bf1
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asmafamily · 3 months ago
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Hello👋
Help Asma and her family in Gaza survive
Welcome, My name is Asma Salman Abu Daf from Gaza, trapped between walls of fear, despair and extreme sadness in the shadow of the ongoing war in the Gaza Strip, I appeal to every conscientious person, compassionate heart and human being who understands the meaning of humanity to help us.
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Help me overcome adversity
I am reaching out to you today as a steadfast and compassionate person facing incredible challenges, life in our region has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and increasing conflict day by day, and I am struggling to secure the basic necessities for our family.
Who is Asmaa and her family?
I am married to Ashraf Abu Daf, 46 years old. I am 39 years old and suffer from chronic diseases, which are Mediterranean fever and Crohn's disease. I take expensive medications and treatments for life. I have 7 children. Jana, 13 years old, suffers from chronic diseases, thalassemia, which results in short stature. She needs treatment for many years to take expensive medications. Rafeeq, 18 years old. Nour, 16 years old. Abdul Rahman, 13 years old. Muhammad, 12 years old. Ibrahim, 5 years old. Misk, 3 years old.
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How has the war made our lives like hell?
We all feel fear, extreme sadness and insecurity due to the severity of the bombing and destruction we have been exposed to since the beginning of the war on Gaza until now. My young children do not sleep normally due to the severity of the fear and nightmares. My family and I live in our house that has been exposed to shells and bombing. I fled with my family several times due to repeated threats and requests to move from one place to another. My husband's income is limited and does not cover the required living expenses.
Due to the lack of good food, healthy water and the necessary medicine for our treatment, our situation has gone from bad to worse. Our lives have become threatened either by death due to bombing, shrapnel and missiles or by malnutrition, the spread of epidemics and diseases, psychological insecurity, widespread unemployment, and the lack of fuel, cooking gas and electricity.
Despite the harsh conditions and constant doubts surrounding us, I am optimistic and determined to provide a better future for my husband and children. My spirit is unbreakable, but I need help from people with a living conscience and compassionate and humane hearts to overcome the obstacles we face.
How can you help me?
My family and I aspire to build a better future for our children and ensure their safety and that we all live a decent life, and that they feel safe and stable and live in peace and reassurance. Help us achieve this dream through your generous donation, which will certainly have a great impact in saving us.
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The funds collected will be used to:
• Restore the destroyed house and purchase furniture and appliances required for daily life requirements
• Food, water and medicine, and ensure that we have access to daily necessities, medical supplies and health care.
• Education, supporting my children's education by covering fees, school supplies and providing the necessary needs.
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Every contribution matters.
No donation is too small, every donation brings us one step closer to relief and a better future, even if you are not able to contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your generous network can make a big difference
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Asmaa Abu Daf
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communicationthroughlyrics · 5 months ago
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She Had Other Plans
You were a successful leader of a criminal empire. Your girlfriend was a successful tease, especially when you are halfway around the globe.
PT. 2
AN: I hate my mind sometimes. I just stew and stew and can't get an idea outta my head. So here is one of them. And this is my first time using one of those text message thingies, so yeah. And before yall ask, yes. there will be a part 2. 😂
TW: smut, daddy kink, strap-on sex, teasing, mentions of murder, mob!boss reader, uhhh yeah. Think that's it.
Word Count: 3.6K
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In your line of work, you were away from home constantly. You traveled the world, helping to fuel people's darkest and most deceitful habits, for profit. Exploitation, power, and retribution were your specialties. Your heart had grown cold, at least to those on the outside, which was a necessary trait for your survival. You maintained your polished, playgirl public image well, a successful young business magnate, and you dabbled in philanthropy and charity to keep your reputation to the public clean.
Meanwhile, in the underbelly of society, you were ruthless, ensuring your legacy was cemented even if you departed this godforsaken world. You had climbed the ladder of power with precision, leaving a trail of the broken and betrayed beneath you. It was a world where trust was as fleeting as the morning dew, and everyone had a price. Those who worked for you closely would say you were calculating and charismatic, while those on the wrong side of the line knew you as being one step ahead, making your power felt through silence, vengeance, and detachment.
You had single-handedly become the largest mob boss in the United States, and that quickly spread into other countries, building relationships across the globe. Some were built on trust and loyalty, others on fear and mutual benefit.
Business had called you away to Malta, where you had to bury an up-and-coming threat to your growing kingdom and quell any unrest in your distant ranks. It had been a stressful week, albeit a successful one. When the phone call came across that ushered you away to the Mediterranean, you had been in the middle of…other business. Personal business. Having been teasing your girlfriend all day long, you had finally pushed the sexual tension to a head. The brunette had been panting and begging for you, dressed in lingerie that cost more than most people's cars.
When the call came through, you had left her with explicit expectations as to how she would need to handle her sexual fever in your absence. No touching. No teasing. Most importantly, no whining. That was your number one rule. Begging? Yes. Whining. No.
She had tried her damndest to get you to finish what you had started, but you knew this had to be taken care of expeditiously. So, you left a lace-clad goddess in your shared room while you literally left to murder someone. The following night, she began to push your buttons. She knew your limits, and experience taught her just how far she could push you to get a reaction, one that would benefit you both.
Wanda was 'conveniently' caught outside of your NYC penthouse, leaving in a barely-there skirt with a leather jacket and the pair of black Louboutins you had just bought her. The stocking-clad legs that were strutting out of your building, you knew should be wrapped around your waist, while you had her favorite strap buried to the hilt in her drenched pussy, or wrapped around your head as you mercilessly took out your workday frustrations on her.
However, you were 4,000 miles away, watching photos roll across your social media of the 'mystery woman' who had been able to bag you. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to flaunt what you walked out on 12 hours ago, leaving her a babbling, flustered, drenched mess.
Your hand tightened around the phone, your jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Your blood boiled with a mix of anger and desire. You had given her an order, but she had chosen to ignore it. The thought of her walking around like that, looking like that, for anyone else to see made you want to rip out the throat of every man on the street. You had been looking forward to coming home to her, to teaching her a lesson she'd never forget. But now, it looked like she had decided to bring the lesson to you.
She flew under the radar for the next two days, and you were thankful. You missed her greatly, and you wanted to show her just how much when you got home. You were willing to let the wardrobe choice from the other night slide, just to have a night of wanton passion in the penthouse, no punishment, no edging, no teasing.
She had other plans.
You were in the middle of a meeting when your phone started to buzz incessantly in your slacks. This was a meeting you had to focus on, but the constant vibration indication yet another text had been sent was slowly chipping away at your resolve to stay sharp for this meeting. You had told her not to contact you during work hours unless it was an emergency. Looking at some of the texts, you knew this was no emergency. No matter how desperate she made herself sound.
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You growled at the phone, knowing she wouldn't respond to any more texts from you. She was playing a game of cat and mouse, and you had a boardroom full of sharks waiting for your undivided attention. You slammed the device down, your eyes narrowing as you turned back to the table. Shutting the phone off, you knew that when it turned back on, you would be greeted with a disaster.
The meeting couldn't end fast enough, you wanted to call her and put her in her place, but the meeting ran long, as you and your new alliance couldn't quite come to an agreement for goods and services rendered.
Finally, after what felt like hours, you had come to an agreement, so you quickly and curtly nodded in everyone's direction, gathering your suit jacket and flinging it over your shoulder as you swiftly made your way down the hall to your waiting car, turning your phone back on as you approached the outside doors.
You climbed into the back of the black Town Car, opening your messages to see some pictures from your girlfriend, taken at obscure angles- her clad in a new lingerie set. You knew it was new, they were a color she hadn't worn before, a navy blue number that stood out against her tanned skin. The photos had been sent with no accompanying text, which was unlike her. Usually, she'd write something teasing, begging for your attention. But these were just…there. They were like silent pleas for your dominance, your authority. You groaned at the images before you, each more provocative than the next.
What made your pulse spike was the Snapchat notification from her. She had just sent you a video. Then there was another. She continued to send you videos until she had reached a total of 11. Knowing these would not just be an ordinary snap, you slipped a headphone into your ear while you opened each video, in the order you received them. The first was her dancing on the pole you installed in the corner of your room, the familiar sound of 'Skin' playing in the background as she worked her hips and taunted you through the phone.
The last video was the final straw. Your most fundamental rule.
She sent you a video of her, sprawled out on the bed, her features were flush, and her chest was heaving. She was still clad in her racy new lingerie, and it was then you noticed it was crotchless. Your mouth went dry at the thought, as her hands made their way up and down her body. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your phone, the scene before you becoming too much. She buried her fingers knuckle deep in her wet heat, pornographic moans coming through your earbud as you watched her pleasure herself.
You had told her explicitly, no touching herself. You had promised her that when you returned, you would take care of her needs. You had been looking forward to it, to watching her come apart in your arms. But here she was, in your own bed, disobeying you. The betrayal stung, but the sight of her was like a siren's call. You felt a storm of emotions, anger, desire, and something…more. It was a feeling that hadn't surfaced in a long time, something you weren't quite familiar with.
You boarded your jet and tried to calm the storm that was brewing deep within you for the 13-hour flight home. The images of her playing with herself, the thought of her ignoring your command, it was all you could think about. You felt a mix of anger, arousal, and a hint of something else that you hadn't felt in years. She was a challenge, and you hadn't had one a challenge in a very long time.
You tried to distract yourself, completing some work on your phone, trying to read articles about New York politics, but nothing could distract you from the inferno that was building up inside you. Each passing moment brought with it a new wave of desire, the images of her writhing in pleasure burned into your retina. You had to admit, she knew exactly how to push your buttons, and she had just pushed the biggest one of all. You slammed your phone down in frustration, crossing your arms as you peered out the window to the clouds below. After three hours of 'distraction', you finally fell into a restless, lustful slumber.
The flight seemed to drag on forever, but when you landed at JFK, you were more than ready to deal with her. You texted her, telling her to be home, naked, and waiting for you. You didn't care if she had plans or not, she'd learn to prioritize your commands. You had a feeling she was going to be a handful, but that was what you liked about her.
You stalked over towards the waiting convoy of blacked-out vehicles that were waiting to take you home. The sound of your dress shoes echoed through the private lobby to your elevator, as you impatiently waited for the cabled car to come down from the top floor, watching the numbers descend from floor 98 to you, on the third garage floor.
As you stepped into the elevator, you could feel the anticipation building. You were going to show her exactly who was in charge, and what happens when she breaks the cardinal rule. The doors closed with a satisfying 'ping', and you ascended to your penthouse, your mind racing with scenarios of what you would do when you saw her. The elevator doors parted, revealing the sleek, marble floors in your home, the baby grand piano tucked in the corner, and the twinkling New York skyline a backdrop to what carnal acts were about to take place. You turned on your heel, making your way to the furthest room in the house, your bedroom. As you made your way down the corridor to the bedroom, you noticed the doors shut, but a glow came from underneath them.
Your heart rate quickened, your hand hovered over the doorknob, and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open. She lay on the bed, huddled to one side, peacefully sleeping with a book in her hands. She looked innocent, but you knew better. You strode over to the bed, the floorboards giving a slight creak under your weight, but she didn't stir. Carefully, you plucked the book away from her, running your thumb over her nose to wake her up.
"Ragazza monella," you spoke softly, your pent-up frustration leeching into your normally collected voice.
Her eyes snapped open, revealing the deep pools of green that had captivated you from day one. She looked up at you with a lazy smile, not a hint of guilt in her gaze. "You're home," she purred, stretching her limbs like a cat in the sun.
"I see you couldn't wait for me," you said, your voice thick with unspoken accusation as you threw your phone to the side.
Her smile didn't waver. "I've missed you," she replied, her voice a low, seductive purr that sent a shiver down your spine. She sat up, letting the blanket pool around her waist, the hoodie she was wearing you instantly recognized as one of yours.
"I gave you an order, Wanda," you said, your voice low and menacing.
"And I chose to ignore it," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.
Her audacity was like a drug, and you felt yourself growing more and more crazed at the sight of her. She knew the consequences of her actions, yet she reveled in them. "You know what happens when you don't follow orders," you growled, your hand sliding under the soft fabric of the hoodie to cup her cheek.
Her smile grew wider, and she leaned into your touch. "Do I?" she challenged, her voice a breathy whisper.
With a swift move, you had her pinned down on the bed, the fabric of the hoodie riding up to expose her lingerie-clad body. "You're going to regret this," you warned, your voice dark with desire.
"Am I?" she questioned, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Your hand trailed down her body, tracing the curve of her waist to the apex of her thighs. "You're already wet for me," you murmured, feeling the dampness between her muscular, toned thighs.
"I'm always wet for you, Papi," she emphasized your pet name, knowing how much you adored her calling you that.
Your eyes narrowed at her insolence, and you felt your ego swell with a mix of anger and desire. "You know the rules," you reminded her, your voice a mix of steel and seduction.
"And you know I love to break them," she whispered, her voice a seductive dance in the quiet room.
You grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, your grip firm but not painful. "This is your last warning," you murmured, your eyes dark with lust and promise of punishment.
Her eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of relenting, but she found none. Instead, she felt a thrill run through her body. This was what she had been craving, what she had missed in your absence. The power play, the delicious tension between your dominance and her submission.
"What's it going to be?" she asked, her voice a challenge wrapped in velvet.
Without a word, you yanked the hoodie over her head, leaving her in just the new lingerie set. The room was filled with the sound of fabric tearing as you ripped away the crotchless part of her underwear, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. She gasped at the sudden exposure, her body arching into yours.
"You're going to learn your place," you said, your voice a low rumble. You leaned down, your mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss that claimed ownership over her. She moaned into your mouth, her body responding instinctively to your touch, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer.
The kiss grew more intense, your tongue invading her mouth, demanding submission. She met your dominance with her own passion, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, drawing a bead of blood. The taste of it made you growl, and you deepened the kiss, your hand sliding down to squeeze her ass.
Finally, you pulled away, breathing heavily. "You're going to get what you asked for," you warned, your eyes dark with lust.
Without another word, you flipped her over onto her stomach, her ass in the air, begging for your attention. You smacked her once, watching as the skin turned pink. She moaned into the pillow, her hips moving back, silently asking for more. You didn't disappoint, your hand coming down again and again, leaving a pattern of red across her skin. Each slap echoed through the room, punctuating the sound of your heavy breaths and her whimpers of pleasure.
You felt your own need growing, and you were glad that you had opted to change into her favorite suit with a strap-on surprise. You knew she was close, her body shaking with each smack, and you couldn't wait to watch her greedy pussy swallow your new toy whole. You slid your hand between her legs, finding her wet and ready. You whispered, "You're going to come for me now," and thrust two fingers inside her, curling them in a way that made her scream into the pillow.
Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around your hand. You didn't stop, though, continuing to fuck her with your fingers until she was begging for mercy. Only when she was trembling did you pull away, standing up to remove your clothes.
When you were naked, you climbed onto the bed, the new dildo standing at attention. "You've had your fun," you said, your voice a low growl. "Now it's my turn." Her eyes widened at the sheer girth of your chosen method of punishment.
"I…I don't think that will fit," she whined, her lust-blown eyes boring straight into yours.
"Oh, it will. You remember your safeword, correct?" you nibbled down her neck as you settled between her legs.
"Yes," she moaned, her back arching against you.
"What is it?"
"Cl…clementine," she stuttered, her body wiggling and writhing beneath you.
You nodded as you slammed into her without preamble, her body accepting you with ease. She screamed your name, her legs tightening around your waist as you began to move. Each thrust was punctuated with a smack to her ass, leaving her skin stinging and her pussy clenching around you. You knew she liked it rough, she was addicted to the pain, but you were going to give her more than she had bargained for tonight.
This was your domain, and she had forgotten her place. You were going to remind her, over and over again, until she was nothing but a quivering mess beneath you. Until she understood that no matter how much she tested you, she would always be yours to command, to punish, to pleasure.
You slammed into her, the sound of your hips slapping against her filling the room. The dildo stretched her to her limits, each inch driving deeper until she was crying out for you to stop. But you didn't. You knew she could take it, knew she craved the pain that came with your passion. The bulge from the tip of the toy poked out her abdomen with every thrust, you pressed down on her stomach where it was appearing, causing her to arch further into your touch.
Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as you picked up the pace. You watched the way her body moved underneath you, the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, and the way her ass cheeks clapped together. You felt yourself getting closer, your strokes becoming more erratic. You reached around, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at you. "Who do you belong to?" you demanded, your voice a low growl.
"You," she whispered, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.
"Say it louder," you ordered, giving her another smack on the ass.
"I belong to you!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the moans that had escaped her mouth.
"Beg to cum, amore," you growled in her ear, nibbling down the shell.
"Fuck," she moaned out, her eyes briefly fluttering open before screwing shut again.
"Not until you beg," you reminded her, your voice like a whip crack in the quiet of the room. You could feel your orgasm building, the muscles in your thighs tightening with each powerful thrust. Her cries grew more desperate, her hips moving back to meet yours, pushing herself onto the dildo with a fervor that was almost painful to watch.
"Please," she finally begged, her voice breaking. "I need to come."
You smirked, feeling the power surge through you. "That's all you got, baby?" You taunted, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. "After all that, the teasing, the videos, this is how you show me you miss me? This is how you show me that you need Papi to make you feel good?" She whined and squirmed beneath you, her body shaking with the effort of holding back her climax. "Beg harder," you whispered, leaning down to bite her earlobe.
Her voice grew more frantic. "Ple…please, Papi," she gasped. "I need to come, I need you to make me come."
"You can do better than that," you grabbed ahold of one of her legs, pulling it over your shoulder as you continued the relentless assault on her swollen, leaking pussy. You leaned down, resting your other hand on her throat, gently applying pressure as you picked up your pace. "I said to beg for it, so fucking beg for it," you whispered, your breath hot against her skin.
Her eyes snapped open, the green orbs locking onto yours, filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "Fuck me harder," she pleaded, her voice strained. "Make me cum, Papi."
The sound of her demanding sent you over the edge, and you slammed into her, the erratic thrusts as you came only spurring her pleasure further. You felt her pussy tighten around the dildo, her walls pulsing as she climaxed hard, her body shaking beneath you. You didn't stop until she was limp, her cries of pleasure turning into breathless gasps.
You continued to work the toy into her, slowly building her back up.
"I didn't give you permission, amore mio," you looked down at her, panting as her chest heaved.
"I know," she panted back, "but I had to make sure you knew how much I missed you."
You couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. She knew how much power she held over you, how much she could push you. "You're going to pay for that," you whispered, your voice a dark promise.
Her eyes lit up, and she bit her bottom lip, egging you on. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
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mariacallous · 17 days ago
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When the cease-fire in Gaza went into effect earlier this week, the joy across the conflict line was palpable from 6,000 miles away. Although it is unlikely that complicated three-phase deal will ever be fully implemented, it will save lives, bring hostages home, and provide Palestinians in Gaza with much-needed humanitarian aid. The initial hostage and prisoner release also provides a moment to reflect on the broader consequences of the war. Among the most striking is how the conflict has not just altered the trajectories of Israeli and Palestinian societies but in important ways forced them into reverse.
No doubt, Hamas has notched a number of notable achievements since it launched the onslaught it called Operation Al-Aqsa Flood on Oct. 7, 2023. The group drew the IDF into a ferocious fight in the Gaza Strip that has compromised the international legitimacy of Israel’s military and the state it defends. And not since the announcement of the Clinton Parameters and the effort to rescue the Oslo process at the Egyptian resort town of Taba in early 2001 has the Palestinian question been front and center in Middle Eastern and international politics.
At the same time, when Hamas sent its fighters over and through the fence that separates Israel from the Gaza Strip, they set the Palestinian search for justice back at least a generation, if not more. There was a time, not long ago, when it was possible for people to imagine a Palestinian state in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. In the years since the peace process irretrievably faltered, some observers had come to believe that the present “one-state reality,” encompassing the Palestinian areas plus Israel, would likely lead to a “one-state solution” in which Palestinians and Israelis live together. Regardless of the real-world prospects of either outcome, Hamas’s genocidal fever dream of liberating Palestine—from Metula to Eilat and from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea—which the group sought to make reality 15 months ago, has rendered both the one-state and two-state solutions impossible.
Add to Hamas’s bloodlust the international outcry over what Israelis regard to be righteous self-defense, and fewer and fewer of them are now willing to believe that Palestinian nationalism and Zionism can be reconciled. Palestinians may have a right to a state, but given the asymmetries of power that exist, Israelis have the capacity to prevent them from exercising it. After Oct. 7, that seems likelier than ever.
Even while Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza are filled with joy over the cease-fire, they remain adrift, confronted with two unenviable political choices: the Palestinian Authority (PA)—a corrupt, repressive, and illegitimate vessel of another era that is irrelevant to the current predicaments of the people whom it is supposed to represent—or Hamas. Even with their limited mandate, the PA’s leaders seem incapable of accomplishing pretty much anything other than remaining in power. Hamas is an undesirable alternative. Its popularity waxes during conflict with Israel and wanes when the reality of life under the boot of the group’s cadres becomes clear to the Palestinians who must endure it. It is hard not to conclude from the last two decades that Hamas’s sacralized claims to resistance has brought Palestinians nothing but more pain and more grief. Yes, there is renewed international sympathy for the Palestinian cause, but the world has long recognized the importance of justice for Palestinians with little tangibly to show for it.
There may actually be other, better options for Palestinians. In distinct contrast to the PA and Hamas, there is a vibrant grassroots movement of Palestinians that is seeking new means of representation and leveraging the past 15 months of bloodshed to deepen the connections between the Palestinian struggle and international networks of progressives, NGOs, humanitarians, and academics. It is an interesting phenomenon, and perhaps an alternative to the PA and Hamas will emerge from this activism. But a significant amount of energy of these groups seems devoted more to Israel’s delegitimization than to any actual effort to forge a new Palestinian political reality. It is also an elite game. Average Palestinians have no such privilege or choice. They are forced between two factions that claim to be the expressions of the Palestinian nationalism but have done little to advance their cause, at times even profiting from their people’s suffering.
Given the destruction of Gaza and the existential nature of the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians that Hamas’s onslaught and the Israeli response to it highlighted, the lasting and most tangible achievement of that attack may very well be the permanent statelessness of the Palestinian people.
For Israelis, the days of “bourgeois Israel” are over. The Israel of the Nike Store, fancy bicycle studios, Maseratis prowling the Ayalon Freeway, and glass towers built on the power of Silicon Wadi IPOs will, of course, remain, but there has been a vibe shift among Jewish citizens of Israel. The attacks on southern kibbutzim and towns 15 months ago vaulted Israel back to another time—one of vulnerability and uncertainty. The incomprehensible hostility of the world around Israelis and beyond, especially among governments and publics in the West, added to the collective shock.
Israelis believed that they had overcome their isolation of the past. Yet so strong and striking was the negative sentiment of the global elite toward a wounded Israel that it was as if U.N. Resolution 3379, which determined Zionism to be a form of racism, had never been repealed. In the coming years, Israel will confront even more hostility from influential—but not necessarily powerful—actors within the U.N. system and the NGO world who have demonstrated themselves to be part of a broad anti-Zionist front. Even though Israel enjoys diplomatic relations with most of the world, the war in Gaza has reopened the question of its global acceptance and legitimacy.
Uncomfortable as it may be, there are more discernible consequences of the war than the hostility of U.N. bureaucrats, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and governments from Ireland to Spain. It seems likely that Israel is too well integrated into the global economy—especially its high-tech and health sectors—for the call to boycott, divest, and sanction to succeed. But Israelis, whose security has been ensured and economic development boosted with the help of U.S. subventions, will have to grapple with higher defense budgets and the hostility of a not insignificant segment of the Democratic Party whose lawmakers will be asked to continue security assistance for Israel. That will not matter when Republicans control the executive branch and Congress, but Democrats will not be in the wilderness forever, and the IDF operations in Gaza that over the last 15 months killed more than 47,000 Palestinians (according to Palestinian health authorities in Gaza) have made an impression on Capitol Hill. The bipartisan consensus around support for Israeli security was already weakening when Hamas attacked; Israel’s ferocious reaction to Oct. 7 may very well have broken it.
What does this say about the future for Israelis and Palestinians? Almost nothing. There were more than a few sages who declared at the outset of the war “from crisis comes opportunity.” That sounds nice, but those are just words. The most likely outcome of the war was always going to be something closer to the status quo that existed on Oct. 6, 2023, than some promising change that improved the prospects for peace. As the release of Gonen, Damari, and Steinbrecher made abundantly clear, Hamas remains very much in power in Gaza, which portends a tighter Israeli blockade on the territory and periodic spasms of great violence. All the while, Palestinians and Israelis will remain further away from their national goals than they have been in decades.
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a-shade-of-blue · 4 months ago
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Masterlist of Fundraisers from the Palestinians who directly contacted me (27-30 September)
30 September
Kholoud Abdalhadi (@kholoudfamily2, @khloodabdul-hadi-blog): Kholoud has a one-year-old daughter named Ayla who has gotten sick due to the bad conditions. Kholoud has lost her older brother in an Israeli airstrike, as well as her beloved grandfather and two of her cousins. Her husband has lost two of his older brothers. They are trying to evacuate to Qatar. (https://gofund.me/7b9894e4) (shared by 90-ghost, vetted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds) (€830 raised of €27,352 goal)
Mahmoud Kullab (@loaykolabloay): Mahmoud is in Belgium rn and is fundraising for his brother’s family in Gaza. His brother has 2 children: Zain and Lana. They are fundraising to rebuild their home which has been destroyed. (https://gofund.me/7e075326) (#106 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€23 raised of €100,000 goal)
Mohammed Hassouna (@mohammedjama77): Mohammed is newly married. His father has been killed in this war. Their house has been completely destroyed. They are now displaced in a tent in Nuseirat. He wishes to evacuate himself and 7 family members out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/1f06c4d5) (#93 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€136 raised of €10,000 goal)
Amina Yasser (@ameenafamily): Amina and her husband Khalil have 3 children: Nasser (8), Baraa (4), and Adam (2). Khalil is a sound engineer but has lost his source of income. Their house has been destroyed and they are now living in a tent. (https://gofund.me/2e63715d) (#19 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€780 raised of €50,000 goal)
Hanan (@hanangaza24, @hanangaza): Hanan has 3 children: Lana (10), Abdul Karim (7), and Adam (2). Their house was bombed with them inside it. Some of them got injured but they survived. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/269b7293) (shared by 90-ghost) ($2,387 USD raised of $100,000 goal)
Linda AbdalHadi (@lendaabdalhadi): Linda is 26 years old and has a degree in law. She worked as an assistant lawyer. She was pregnant with her first child when she was displaced, and due to the horrible conditions she lost her fetus. She also lost her older brother. Their house has been destroyed and she is now living in a tent with her husband.They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/34901cf7) (#85 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€362 raised of €30,000 goal)
29 September
Rania (@saveomarfamily): They are a family of 5 with 3 children: Rania, Misk, and baby Ghazal. Misk has contacted meningitis but there is no medicine for her in Gaza. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/970f189c) (vetted by association. They are relatives of @aya2mohammed (vetted by el-shab-hussein and #166 on the verified fundraiser list vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi)) ($1,670 USD raised of $35,000 target)
Mohammed (@mohmad40, @mohmad2): Mohammed has a toddler son Ahmed. He has lost loved ones and has been arrested and tormented in an Israeli prison for 2 months. His brother has broken his hand and their tent has been flooded with sewage. (https://gofund.me/9184bdf8) (#47 on the @/gazavetters vetted list)
Ghazi Al Amoudi (@ghazialamoudi): Ghazi is 25 years old and from a family of 7. He is an instructional designer. He and his family are now displaced and living in a tent in Deir Al-Balah.  (https://gofund.me/4c0c11c3) (#89 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€81 raised of €10,000 goal)
Hamza Abu Reesh (@hamza-gaza): Hamza is from a family of 7. HIs parents are elderly and his father suffers from chronic diseases. His little sister is suffering from Mediterranean fever and there are no medicine available. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/abf54bf1) (vetted by @/gazavetters and #91 on their vetted list, also vetted by association through @/ayoosh-gaza (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds)) (€912 raised of €100,000 goal)
28 September
Nisreen Al Sirsik (@lazysweetsheart, @lovelycooltaco): Nisreen has 5 daughters and 3 sons. Their house has been destroyed. (https://gofund.me/b2f8921c) (vetted by @/gazavetters and is #40 (not #41, I checked!) on their vetted list) (€152 raised of €25,000 target)
Ayman Mokdad (@mohamed-meq, @ayman-meq18, @aiyshameqdad): Ayman is a university student. He has 5 sisters and 2 brothers. He and his family are displaced and they are trying to evacuate to Egypt. (https://gofund.me/dfee1247) (#94 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€929 raised of €90,000 target)
Noura Ayman (@nourasissue4, @nourasissue): Noura and her husband Ibrahim worked in a hospital and were studying for a Master’s degree together. They have a baby daughter named Hanan. Her father-in-law has kidney cancer and requires treatment. She is trying to evacuate herself, her husband, theri baby, her parents-in-law, her father and her brothers (Samed (15) and Doaa (18)) out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/dd15ac0f) (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds!) (€476 raised of €50,000 target)
Mariam Mahmoud (@mariam-gaza): Mariam has 2 children: Muhammad and Mahmoud. She is currently pregnant. Her children has contacted hepatitis. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/b2e57341) (vetted by association. Mariam is a sister of @/ayoosh-gaza  (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds)) ($1,129 USD raised of $20,000 goal)
27 September
Sondos Jad Al-Haq (@sondos2200, @sondos220): Sondos is 24 years old and has 2 sons: Ahmed (4), and Saleh (2). Her husband Mohammed has just had an open heart surgery before the war. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/e710175a) (#70 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) ($327 CAD raised of $30 000 target)
Muhammad Al-Sir (@nepalalser, @mohammedalser81): Muhammad has 7 children: Batoul (14), Sydal (13), twins Majd and Jodi (11), Sidra (8), and twins Ahmed and Mahmoud (5). They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/13a3a410) (vetted by @/gazavetters and #66 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€1,753 raised of €50 000 target)
Marwa Sobh & Ahmed Sobh (@ahmed-sobeh, @ahmed-sobeh2009): Ahmed is 16 years old and severely autistic. He constantly runs away from his tent and has almost lost his life more than once. His mother Marwa cannot leave Ahmed inside his tent alone with his brother because of this. They are trying to escape out of Gaza so he can get the treatment he needs. (https://www.paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=EJ892Z3JYTPYS) (Vetted by association! This campaign has been promoted by @/nesmamomen (vetted by el-shab-hussein, shared by nabulsi)) (€241 raised of €10,000)
Haitham & Iman (@haithem-2): Iman’s brother Mahmoud was martyred in the 2014 war. Mahmoud’s child Haitham was only 1 year old when his father was killed. Haitham grew up with Iman and her family and is now 12 years old. Iman’s parents suffer from diseases such as high blood pressure and anemia. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza.  (https://gofund.me/29e50d94) (vetted by 90-ghost) (kr9,133 NOK raised of kr200,000 goal)
How are gfm campaigns vetted?  See here, here, here and here.
Click here for my Google Doc with my complete masterlist of all the Palestinian gfm asks I've received, updated daily (along with other verified ways to send aid to Gaza).
See post here for other verified ways to send aid to Gaza.
Don't forget your Daily Clicks on Arab.org, it's free!!! and Every click made is registered in their system and generates donation from sponsors/advertisers.
For links to my other Masterlists see below
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13 - 25 July.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 26 -29 July.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 30 July - 1 August.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 August.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6 - 10 August.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11 - 14 August.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15 - 18 August
Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 19 - 21 August
Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 22 - 24 August
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 25 - 28 August
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 August - 1 September
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 September.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-10 September.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11-14 September.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-18 September.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 19-22 September.
Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-26 September.
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rainintheevening · 10 months ago
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The day 19-year-old Peter Pevensie ships out for the Mediterranean, lieutenant's commission and a COs commendation in hand, he's all tall, golden boy in British khaki with a soft smile and a merry laugh and oddly old eyes.
His socks are hand-knitted, with his initials PWP worked in around the top. He wears a small golden lion on a leather string around his neck, tucked under his shirt alongside his dogtags.
In his kit bag he carries a Bible, new, brown leather, not too big to be jammed in a pocket. The writing on the first page is tidy, a little squared off, no blots: June 1943, Peter, my brother, my captain, my king. We are all held safe between the paws of the Lion. Ephesians 6:10-18.
Tucked in beside that is a small, chunky book of Spurgeon's sermons, with Prof. Digory Kirke in the corner of the flyleaf, and a loose-leaf of paper that Peter uses for a bookmark, precious though it is, covered in his father's barely legible scratch.
There's a hand-bound book of poems, copied by Lucy and collected with several of Susan's watercolours, all trees like old friends and flowers like stars and rolling English hills. It will take months for those pages to stop smelling like home.
Next to that is tucked a sturdy little journal, pencil attached and fat with empty cream-coloured pages. It will take only a week for it to lose its clean smell, and the many words scribbled there will make it fatter still.
Three others are piled in around those—a beat-up hardback novel stripped of its dust jacket and stamped as White Fang, a bright new George MacDonald novel with Be brave, my son, and may the adventure always bring you safely home. Mother penned inside, and another naked hardback identified along its spine as The Aeneid.
Some eyebrows get raised at the extra weight of that library, but Peter is charming and humble, and he'll be the only one to suffer from it anyway.
A little more than two years later Peter Pevensie will return with a captain’s epaulets on his shoulders, and the same soft smile on a leaner, browner face.
He will be wearing an entirely different pair of socks, but still ones that have PWP worked into the stripes along the top.
The leather string will be gone, and so will the little gold lion, folded into a shaking hand, given with a murmured prayer and a kiss pressed to salty fevered forehead, somewhere on the side of an Italian mountain.
The books will be nearly all there. The Bible, wrinkled with water damage, fingerprinted with little dark smears, it's cover scored with a smokey black streak. The poetry, cared for so carefully; the sermons, well earmarked and notated; the MacDonald novel now sans dust jacket, spine cracked, and with grit worked into its creases.
The Aeneid will still be there, though greatly altered thanks to the bullet buried in the upper half of it.
White Fang will be missing, left in the hands of a wildly curious, dream-eyed Arab boy, who will pick up English like a starving man picks up food, and will cry when the Fighting Fifth gets shipped back to Italy. There will be a black and white photograph tucked into its pages— four soldiers surrounding a tall, fair-haired one with a thin dark-headed boy standing high atop his shoulders, arms raised as if he would fall forward into flight, all smiling.
Peter will carry the journal home in his pocket, all muddy and smoky, all smeared with pencil lead and sweat, bloody fingerprints on a few pages, heavy with a thousand and one thoughts, the unburdening of his heart, all ready to be placed in his brother’s hands.
Peter Pevensie will return like his books, with dirt in the creases, a little worn, a little tattered, a little scarred. But his wise old (kingly) eyes... they shine the same way when he smiles, sun in his golden hair.
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bestanimal · 3 months ago
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Round 2 - Arthropoda - Chilopoda
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(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)
Chilopoda is a class of arthropods commonly called “Centipedes”. They include the Scutigeromorphs (“House Centipedes”), Lithobiomorphs (“Stone Centipedes”), Scolopendromorphs (“Tropical Centipedes”), Geophilomorphs (“Soil Centipedes”), and the Craterostigmomorphs which consists of only two living species.
Centipede means “hundred feet”, though no species of centipede actually has exactly 100 feet, as their pairs of legs are always an odd number, ranging from 15 to 191 pairs of legs! All centipedes are venomous predators, delivering venom through a pair of fang-like front legs called forcipules. Prey include other invertebrates like earthworms, fly larvae, collembolans, and other centipedes. The giant Scolopendromorphs are able to tackle larger prey including vertebrates such as lizards, frogs, birds, mice, snakes, and even bats. They live in tropical or desert habitats worldwide, but only in moist environments, meaning they must be more active under cover or at night. Many species lack eyes, though some have simple eyes that allow them to distinguish light from dark. Some species use their first pair of legs similarly to antennae, sensing vibrations and even using them to “hear.” Their bodies consist of 15 or more segments, with one pair of legs attached to the sides of each segment. Their back legs, called “ultimate legs”, are modified depending on species, and can be elongated and thin, thickened, or pincer-like. They are not used for walking, but instead can be used in defensive displays, for hunting, or for interspecies fighting, and they often play a role in mating rituals and are usually sexually dimorphic. Centipedes range from a few millimetres to 30 cm (1 foot) long.
Centipedes are generally solitary, not even meeting up to mate. Males will leave spermatophores on the ground for females to pick up. However, females provide parental care, coiling around both their eggs and young and grooming them (first image). Some species grow anamorphically: adding on segments with each moult until they reach their adult number of segments. Some species grow epimorphically: growing all their segments and legs as an embryo before hatching, and not adding on any more when they moult.
Centipedes arose during the Late Silurian, but were considerably rare until the Triassic Period. The modern Scolopendromorphs and Scutigeromorphs appeared in the Cretaceous.
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Propaganda under the cut:
In my desire to show just how colorful and beautiful centipedes could be, my first rendition of this post featured 3 Scolopendromorphs and 1 House Centipede. I then realized how unfair that was and changed it to include most of the major types of centipede, which reduced a lot of the color of this post unfortunately. I believe the centipedes I’ve chosen are still beautiful regardless, but if you want to see some pretty colorful centipedes, check out the rest of Scolopendromorpha!
Similarly to spiders, while all centipedes are venomous, none are particularly deadly to humans. Most small centipedes’ jaws are too small to break human skin, but large tropical centipedes’ bites can be quite painful: causing swelling, chills, fever, and weakness, especially in children and those allergic to bee stings. These bites are always in defense, so if you leave them alone, they have no reason to bite.
Some large centipedes are consumed in China, usually skewered and grilled or deep fried. Thailand produces centipede vodka: large centipedes steeped in alcohol.
The common house centipede (Scutigera coleoptrata) originated in caves in the Mediterranean, but has evolved alongside us to live inside human homes. The dark and humid corners of buildings are literally their habitat! They are beneficial predators, feeding on many species humans consider pests such as cockroaches, termites, ants, bed bugs, spiders, and silverfish.
Centipedes have long lifespans for arthropods, some living up to 10 years.
They are friends! Or maybe… lovers?
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maysasalman · 3 months ago
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Hello👋
I am Maysaa Aldahdooh from Gaza.
My family and I face death, hunger, and diseases every day. We are a Palestinian family in desperate need of help from anyone with a conscience, a compassionate heart, and a sense of humanity.
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Help us overcome these hardships
I am reaching out to you today, standing firm as I face unbelievable challenges. Life in our area has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and escalating conflict, and I am struggling to secure the basic necessities for myself and my family.
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About me and my family:
I am 38 years old, married to Hossam Al-Dahdoh, and we have five children: Jamal, 16 years old; Mohammed, 14 years old, who suffers from a chronic disease called Mediterranean fever and must take lifelong medication; Layan, 10 years old; Amir, 8 years old; and Zina, 4 years old.
We have faced death dozens of times. Our home was completely destroyed and burned, making it uninhabitable. We have been displaced more than 20 times, and we narrowly escaped certain death on several occasions. We have lost over 100 relatives, neighbors, and loved ones. The area where I live is constantly under attack with rockets, shelling, and gunfire. We struggle to find healthy food, clean drinking water, and my son Mohammed cannot access the medicine he needs. My children can no longer attend school. For these reasons, my family and I have decided to leave Gaza in order to protect the lives of my children from death, hunger, disease, and the effects of war, food shortages, lack of medicine, polluted water, and the destruction of educational institutions
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How you can help us:
• By making a financial donation, even if it’s a small amount. • By sharing our story on social media. • By offering words of support and encouragement.
The funds we raise will be used for:
• Helping us with the costs of leaving Gaza and seeking refuge in a country that respects human rights, such as Canada, Belgium, or Sweden. The costs of leaving are high, with each family member needing $5,000 to leave. Since we will be starting our life from scratch outside Gaza, we will also need housing, electrical appliances, cooking utensils, education expenses, medicine, and health and psychological rehabilitation.
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Every contribution, no matter how small, is important.
There is no donation too small. Every donation brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you are unable to contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your network can make a huge difference.
Thank you and gratitude:
Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for your kind generosity. You can help us get through these difficult times.
Maysaa AlDahdoouh
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s-aint-elmo · 4 months ago
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i've gotten several messages from palestinians asking for help boosting their fundraisers, so i thought i'd put a post together for them. their gofundmes are linked through their names.
eyad sami (@eyadeyadsblog) who has been separated from his wife and children. vetted by @/90-ghost and @/northgazaupdates
mohammed al-habil (@aya2mohammed) who is caring for his young children and elderly parents. vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi here
samer abu ras (@samerpal) who is caring for three children, with the eldest suffering from heart problems. vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi here
hamza abu reesh (@hamza-gaza) who is caring for his elderly parents and siblings, with his younger sister suffering from mediterranean fever. vetted by @/gazavetters here
youseff al-habeel (@youseffamily) whose young son is suffering from a chest infection and a respiratory illness. vetted by @/90-ghost and the butterflyeffect project
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evita-shelby · 2 months ago
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12 Days of Smuffmas:
December 17th - tinsel and talking dirty(Bucky Egan x Diane Shelby)
part of the Paper Moons series
cw: dirty talk, dominant!Bucky, mentions of nightmares, sex as coping mechanism, reference to ye olde vibrators and dildos, couch sex, mentions of baby fever
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He used to try and dream what his life after the war would look like, what a life with Diane would look like.
Sometimes they’d stay in England in that beautiful townhouse in London with him doing fuck knows what and mooching off her parents. They’d live lavishly, without a care in the world and forget the hell they’d lived in during the war.
His Lady Di had lost her little brother during the blitz, a boyfriend in the Mediterranean and enough friends to remind him some German girl had lost the same thanks to him.
He’d wake up from nightmares where Di’s buried in the rubble, tortured by Nazis for the crime of being of two races or just gone. Bucky still gets them, along with the ones of what happened to him and the others in the war.
Struggles to sleep so much he dozed off in the couch this afternoon when they were supposed to start decorating for their first Christmas together in this quaint house in a well-off neighborhood where her folks are to visit.
“Did you sleep well, sleeping beauty?” Di asks carefully placing the tinsel that’s gotten everywhere except the fucking tree since they got it.
“Like a baby.” John stretches and stays where he is as he watches his tiny wife balance on a step stool decorating the tree exactly how she envisioned it in that strange mind of hers.
Her hair is shorter, just over her shoulders and bouncing as she turned her attention to him and then back to the tree. Knows when he’s lying with just one look, but his answer doesn’t ring off any alarm bells and she resumed her work in artfully placing the fucking tinsel on the pine tree they picked out yesterday.
“Would you help me get the tree ready?” she asks but he shook his head preferring to watch her do her work unimpeded. Reminded him the Diane in his nightmare last night was just a figment of his fucked-up imagination.
This Diane hadn’t been killed by a bomb while he was away, this Diane hadn’t been put where all the dead go and left only the necklace he brought her back from Algeria. No, this Diane was alive, in one piece and wearing the necklace that matched her wedding ring.
“Like the view too much to change it.” Bucky has another way of reminding himself the dreams aren’t real, but he thinks it would be good to wait until she’s done. Once he tried to interrupt her doing inventory at the base to fuck her between missions and his Lady Di was cross enough with him to leave him hot and bothered before his mission.
Flew back to base in record time just to get his revenge on his English Witch. They’d done it like beasts, on the cold grass, against their tree and even on his bed before the rest of the officers returned to their quarters.
They fucked on Buck’s bed, almost as if foretelling he’d become more than their cherished friend.
“What are you thinking, Bucky?” the witch knows exactly what he’s thinking, can tell when he’s having filthy thoughts about her even when they’re not even in the same country.
He used to get letters mentioning how his dirty fantasies would reach her in England and how she’d fuck herself with the fake cock wishing it was him fucking her blind.
“About that toy of yours you used to love so much.” Bucky’s gotten her a better toy to replace it having lost it in the move here.
The blue-eyed man remembers that toy too fondly, remembers how fucked out she was that she agreed to invite Buck for his special birthday fuck. “And how I got that fancy oil just for my Lady Di, ‘cause her first ass fuck needed to be done properly.”
She gets flustered when he talks dirty to her, so flustered she gives up whatever she is doing so Bucky can make those words real. “Then why haven’t you used the one we got a couple of days ago, love? Good fucking keeps your nightmares away, you know.”
“It’s a surprise, princess. If you’re naughty, it’s gonna stay unopened for much, much longer.” He threatens playfully knowing the moment the door’s shut behind their families the mystery gift will be unwrapped and used with great appreciation.
An improvement to the fake cock, this one vibrates for better…massaging. The department store lady had gone beet red when a far too cheeky John Egan had pointed at it and asked how much it cost.
“A shame, maybe I want to be bad.” His English girl teases and bends over to pick up some of the tinsel on the tree skirt.
If Di didn’t want to be fucked in the tinsel covered living room maybe she wouldn’t have worn that short blue dress knowing it would give him a fantastic view.
“Panties off, Di, if you want to be bad at least give your hard working husband a good view of the pussy he killed Nazis for.” The newly minted Lieutenant Colonel orders knowing its exactly what she wants.
She wants a baby, seen it in the cards they’ll have one next year and the disappointment of the all-night birthday sex not resulting in a pregnancy to announce at Christmas had her ravenous. Bucky’s surprised he had a nightmare last night when they’ve been at it like rabbits.
Not that he minds, John Egan has yet to get tired of fucking his girl. He doubts he ever will, he thinks as his wife removed her flimsy and lacy panties before tossing them to him.
“Anything else, Bucky?” the witch asks loving this game they play.
“Not yet, though I bet I can get you to leave the tree and climb me instead.” He fucking loves this game too.
John talks dirty, Diane tries to finish whatever she’s doing and then they see how far she gets before she’s too aroused to think of anything but wanting to jump his bones. First time they played he’d gotten injured enough to need Nurse Shelby’s tender loving care and been rewarded with a frantic fuck in a supply closet.
 “Can even keep the dress on if you like, looked good when Buck and I fingered you on the cab ride to the train and looks good on you know.” The memory of that day the left the base will stay with him forever as will the way he gets hard when she wears it.
Couldn’t get through a church service once because he wanted to get her to take the Lord in vain as she bounced on his dick in the car with some bullshit excuse no one bought.
“You tasted so good on Buck’s fingers, almost as good as your pussy tastes in his mouth.” John goes on as his Lady Di bites her lip and nearly drops the piece of tinsel in her hands. He’d help her decorate the rest of the tree, once she gives up or finishes putting all the tinsel she claims the fucking tree needs. “I'm gonna fuck him hard as he eats your pussy on the dining room table, maybe Marge will come too, and you show her why we love your mouth so much. Wouldn’t that be fun? Show her nothing’s wrong with the way we love.”
“Shame I lost the fake cock on the move here, I could have fucked her that way too. Like we did with that performer we both wanted so badly.” Lady Di reminds him of that singer with the big tits who entertained the troops one night and got fucked hard by Di’s toy while she tit-fucked Bucky in her dressing room. The Performer had left England with a very fond memory of Lady Di and Major Egan.
“We could always find you another one. A better one, if you stop ignoring your husband and be a good little wife to him.” How she hasn’t figured out he got her a vibrating fake cock is beyond him; he never gets anything past the witch.
“I’m always a good wife to you, love.” Di laughs and yet leaves the tree alone to come and climb onto his lap. She kisses him sweetly and holds onto him as he sat up getting comfortable for something much better than decorating a Christmas tree.
“Especially when your wet and ready to go for daddy.” Bucky let her free his little soldier from his pants as he undid the fastenings of her dress. He’d said the dress would stay on, just not how.
His English girl takes him all in and takes his hand to the slight bulge his cock gives her while they fuck hard and loudly not giving a shit the neighbors can hear them fucking. “How couldn’t I be when I hear your filthy thoughts as clearly as if you say them?”
Mind-reader, too.
“Suppose I gotta make those words a reality, can’t have you thinking your man is all talk, Lady Di, can’t I?” John’s grip on her hips grows tight as he thrusts up to meet her hips and goes as deep as his princess can handle. They’re good together, like a good duet making sweet music even if Buck’s not often here to make it a trio.
There’s tinsel on the fucking couch, but it doesn’t matter when Di locks her tan legs behind his waist until they both come hard and fast while everyone else goes on about their afternoon outside. Bucky stays inside her, content to be buried in her cunt and home where the war never touched a damn thing. They used to fuck to the sound of bombs near and far, to the sirens of ambulances seeking out the injured and planes coming and going.
He used to talk dirty to her while taking shelter from the air raids, as she checked him for injuries and patched him up if need be. Now he tells her filthy things in peace and quiet where there’s nothing actively trying to kill them.
John Clarance Egan has no fucking clue what he did to get a woman like her. “Don’t fucking know how I got you to notice me when you had your pick of the litter?”
“You talked dirty and fucked me blind against a tree, remember?” Her words are just as breathless as his and kissed him harshly like her life depended on him.
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