#pls help

[whysoblue2]

Well, time to show what's cooking!

The cover art for The Last Bishop, the First to Fall! I thought I would wait to show the finished product... but hell, lineart is my stronger suit, so before I ruin everything with clumsy colours, here it is with its own post! What do you think, guys?

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Dear TGCF fandom: I'm gonna need someone to explain to me the Immortal Brocade subplot like I was 5, because I don't think I'm understanding it at all. Thank you.

[iidarrii]

my part from the magma session with @sanchezmmm !!

[trymebiscuit]

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

My dear, I am writing to you today to ask for your help. As you know, Gaza has been devastated by recent events. My family and I had to flee our house when it was destroyed [due to an air strike]. We have lost everything, and we are now without a home, protected by cold and rain. The weather is very cold and the rain has drowned us, and now we are struggling to rebuild our lives. Your generous donation will help me rebuild my home and provide a safe and secure environment for my family. Every pound counts. Thank you for your sympathy and support. sincerely,

https://gofund.me/8bd7a599

@punkitt-is-here @girldraki @nyancrimew @nan4ri @ot3 @gaza-evacuation-funds @gazikacmislaflar @gaza-giving-tree @gazaboovintage @mangocheesecakes @good-old-gossip @dragon-master-kai @vakarian-shepard @prinnay @naptune @patrik-star @paper-mario-wiki @newsfrom-theworld @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @buttercupagere @buttercuparry @westaysilly @sayruq @sissa-arrows @sunflowersmoths @normal-thoughts-official @flower-tea-fairies @mephal @mothfishing @theaethernetconnection @90-ghost @goldfishu @loook-back-at-it @lookineedsleep @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense @reminded @neechees @noble-kale @segamascott @autistic-liberation-front @autisticmudkip @shadowedskies178 @rowansugar @t-800terminator-blog @greggorylee @wellwaterhysteria @theleechyskrunkly @notlikingbestgirl @inkxplashes

[lilyissuswritings2]

lol, help

y'all, I need someone to point me in the direction of a Batfamily ask blog or a Bruce Wayne ask blog.

Why?

Because one of my cat's, Dasher, middle names is Wayne, and I want to say I personally know a member of the Wayne family. Pls help.

Here is da boy

[ahmedhadeel50]

🆘 SToP Don't SKiP

A small donation can make a big difference 🙏🍉🇵🇸

My name is Ahmed. My wife Hadeel and I dreamed of a simple life together. We married in February 2023, and now Hadeel is pregnant, which makes our situation even more urgent. We had just settled into our cozy apartment in northern Gaza when everything changed on October 7, 2023, when war shattered our lives. We lost our home and my job, and after a series of evacuations, we ended up in a tent by the sea in Khan Younis.

As winter approaches, our situation is dire. We urgently need your support to help us rebuild our lives. Thank you for your kindness during these challenging times.

Amid the devastation of Gaza, five children stood before a broken electric pole leaning on the ground. They decided to turn it into a balancing game, competing to walk across it without falling.

Their laughter echoed every time one of them wobbled or nearly fell, cheering each other on with enthusiasm. After playing, they sat beside the pole, dreaming of real amusement parks far away from the rubble.

Despite the dusty sky and the destruction surrounding them, they realized that their dreams and laughter were stronger than all they had lost.

On a cold night on Gaza's outskirts, rain seeped through my tattered tent, turning the ground to mud. Once my refuge after war destroyed my home, the tent offered no warmth or safety. Memories of my lost home haunted me as I struggled to hold on. Your support can help restore the safety we've lost.

To donate:👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

— Ahmed and Hadeel

[221bshenanigans]

Does anyone know how one can watch these in uk?

I have no words

[samerpal]

"First, I would like to thank everyone who supported me.🙏🌹

This is my new platform, friends, after my old platform was deleted for reasons unknown to me.

I ask for your help in sharing my story again to keep hope alive for me and my family, friends.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.♥️

My family and I appreciate your cooperation and hope to reach the desired goal and save us.🙏

Attached are the verification links for the old account from the supporters.

Link vetted by @ibtisams

Link vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi

Link vetted by @sar-soor

My approved number by the families in need and endorsed by the supervisors is 196."

@90-ghost @ibtisams @nabulsi @aces-and-angels @sar-soor @sayruq @fairuzfan @palestinegenocide @vakarians-babe @northgazaupdates @northgazaupdates2

Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive 🕊️🇵🇸🙏

I Samer Abu Ras, am reaching out to you with a heartfelt humanitarian appeal, after the ongoing war in Gaza has cast its dark shadow over my life and the lives of my family. Our lives were once filled with peace and stability before the onset of this catastrophe, but now, we find ourselves living in a situation described as nothing short of tragic.

My wife, Shurooq, our three children, and I are now homeless, without a source of income, and without hope for the future. My family and I have lost our businesses and our home due to the war, and we now have nothing left but the cold streets and troubled hearts.

My children are suffering greatly as a result of these horrific events. They have lost the security and stability they once enjoyed and are now facing new health and psychological challenges that threaten their lives. As a father and husband, I feel powerless in my ability to provide adequate protection and care for them.

My child, who is a year and a half old, is experiencing hardships far beyond his tender age. Since the war broke out, we had to flee our home and seek refuge in a tent in a displacement camp. My child lives in extremely difficult conditions, deprived of safety and stability. The tent does not provide adequate protection from harsh weather, and food and medicine are scarce. My child suffers from malnutrition and illness, lacking basic healthcare. He cannot play or grow in a healthy and suitable environment. My only dream is to see him grow up in a safe place full of opportunities

In the face of difficult circumstances, Samer Abu Ras and his family find themselves facing serious challenges in their daily lives. They reside in a modest tent lacking comfort and security, suffering from a shortage of clean water and food, and encountering difficulties in accessing necessary healthcare. Despite these challenges, they continue to express hope and resilience in confronting adversity, holding onto hope for a better tomorrow and a return to a more stable and secure life.

I appeal to you today, dear friends, to extend to me a helping hand in escaping this hell. Regardless of the size of the donation, every drop of generosity will contribute to alleviating our suffering and rebuilding our lives anew.

We need your help to secure the funds necessary to travel away from these destructive wars and seek a safe and stable environment where we can build a better future for our children

Let us stand together in these difficult times and let hope triumph over despair by providing support and assistance to those in dire need. Let us be part of the solution and build a better future for ourselves and future generations.

Thank you for listening and for the potential generosity of your giving, and for your generous donations that will change the lives of my family for the better.

With sincere gratitude and appreciation

‏Samer Abu Ras and family.

@heba-20 @soon-palestine @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @nabulsi @sayruq @communistchilchuck @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @three-croissants @interfacefox @appsa @akajustmerry @feluka @flower-tea-fairies @90-ghost @victoriawhimsey @ficsforgaza @aria-ashryver @mangocheesecakes @humanvoicebox @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @palestinegenocide @ghost-and-a-half @bibyebae @heritageposts @norrriey 🍉🌹🍉✍️

🌹🍉🇵🇸❤️🌹🍉🇵🇸❤️🌹🍉

[brockoliguy]

My country is experiencing a traumatic natural disaster.

I made a comic to make it more digestible.

Shares appreciated, I'm just trying to bring awareness here

[mytortoisegotstuckinatupperware]

[saintfire]

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

[amnyaburas]

Hello, I am Amany Ubeid . I am a 40 years old. mother of 3 children. My son Mohammed is 16 years old, my son Moath is 14 years old, and my daughter Habiba is 9 years old.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #17 )

These are photos of my children ❤️ before the war .

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

Before the war, our life was a beautiful and stable life. My husband and I used to go to work every day and return to our beautiful home to make us feel the warmth of our family. My work and my husband's work were destroyed and my house was completely burned. It became completely empty and there was nothing in it and it was vulnerable to accidents. Everything we used to live in was destroyed. We have lost our past. And our future became only in our memories. These are pictures of my house before and after it was burned.

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

My home before

My home after

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

We were displaced from northern Gaza to the south, and now we are next to Rafah in a small place that is not suitable for habitation. I do not know what to do. There is no food, no clean water, and no medicine.

My husband suffers from a skin disease called psoriasis and needs constant treatment, but the treatment is not available.

My husband's treatment costs $100 per month (136 Canadian dollars).

My son needs surgery to save his eye, which, without proper medical attention, may lead to disability. We are seeking support for him to receive the necessary surgery abroad.

The surgical procedure costs 2000 $ (2733 Canadian dollars).

I feel completely exhausted because there is no ointment or treatment for them. I feel restricted and unable to move.

My husband and I, after losing our entire future in Gaza, decided to escape the hell of war and start a new life that our children deserve in a safer and more peaceful place .

Traveling to Egypt costs 25,000$ (34,162.5 Canadian dollars), and to start a new life there, we need 50,000$ (68,325 Canadian dollars) including traveling, accomodations, treatments, medicines and living expenses.

Please, maybe with your help we will survive and give us a chance to live again.

Your help and support is important to keep us alive. Please do not forget us ❤️

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

[mahmoudna]

Urgent Call for Help: Every Donation Can Save Us

Dear friends,

I am reaching out to you today with a heavy heart, hoping you can help me and my family through an incredibly tough period. So far, I've only been able to raise 390€ from my campaign, and the last donation I received was five days ago. While I am grateful for the support, we are still in desperate need of more.

My family is in real danger, and we are struggling to afford the basic necessities we need to survive—food, water, and other essential items. Every day is getting harder, and I am left with nothing but hope that you can help us.

If you are able to contribute, even with a small donation, it would make a huge difference in our lives. We need your help now more than ever. Every donation brings us one step closer to a better tomorrow.

Thank you to everyone who has supported us so far. I truly appreciate each and every one of you, and I hope you can continue to stand by us in these trying times.

Donation link:

[purpleplumpudding]

midnight snack

dilf! art

he finally worked up the nerve to text you after a long two days, after much deliberation of if this was even ethical, if pursuing his peers daughter made him a creep. he decided that, no, it didn’t. your dad was older than him, and he still spent time surrounded by athletes your age anyway. plus, you had to be interested, or you would have never given him the time of day. with all that in mind, he sent you a simple text.

‘hey, it’s art. how are you?’

you replied soon after, casting a small smile across his face.

‘hi! i’m good, you? i didn’t see you around the courts this morning.’

god, had you looked for him? the thought twisted into something obscene so quickly that he had to blink it away, shaking his head and trying to regain focus.

‘i’m at home, actually. have an event this afternoon in the city.’

it was safe, he told himself. small talk with an acquaintance, that’s all. just friendly.

‘oo, what event? that’s such a funny coincidence, i’ll be in the city tonight as well at the club’s charity gala.’

oh, god. oh, he was so fucked. an entire night, with you, in a semi intimate setting. your father would probably be there. hell, his ex wife would probably be there.

‘i’ll be there too. small world.’

his throat was dry as he sent the message, his teeth worrying over his bottom lip, a mix of dread and excitement curling in his stomach.

‘see you tonight then! xx’

art, embarrassingly, spent the entire car ride to the gala psyching himself up for seeing you. he went over all the variables and possibilities, all the ways that he needed to avoid making a complete fool of himself, all the ways he wanted to impress you.

time stopped when he saw you, your satin dress sparkling in the light, your laugh carrying through the room and going straight to his head. your dress was short and your heels were tall and you looked like a fucking model, like a daydream, a vision of tanned legs and shimmery makeup.

“oh, mr. donaldson!” the sound of his name from your lips snapped him from his trance, and he smiled the best he could, practically buzzing with your proximity, “i’m glad you made it. here, i saved you a seat next to me. my father couldn’t make it, so it was empty,”

“oh, thank you,” he grabbed a champagne flute from a passing server, trying not to let his gaze linger too much as you lead him to the seats, your hips swaying with every step. it was gonna be a long night, he thought to himself. especially without your father to be a buffer.

thankfully, once you took your seats, the long droning of speeches started. over an hour of pledges and donation announcements and information on the benefits of the charity, things that he didn’t particularly care about but was suddenly grateful for, since it kept him from making any reckless mistakes involving you.

god, you. you’d been drinking champagne like it was going to disappear, glass after glass without any other substance to keep you from getting too drunk. you were giggling by the time the speeches wrapped, laughing at nothing in particular, covering your mouth as you did. he should’ve suggested you slow down- shouldve done the right thing, been a good influence, been the mature one.

but then your hand was on his shoulder, and the giggles had stopped, replaced by a glint in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “you’re so strong,” you told him, smiling and biting your lip, looking him over, “is that all from tennis, mr. donaldson? your arms are so big,” and you were squeezing at his bicep with your manicured hands, watching him in a way that made his heart stutter.

“it’s- yeah, it’s all from tennis. i mean, i work out too, but tennis is most of it,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure, “i think you’re drunk, sweetheart. do you want me to call you an uber? or do you have someone that can come pick you up? this was right- the ethical thing to do. to send you off and shake this from his mind and steer clear from now on.

“i don’t wanna go home,” you sighed, leaning your head back on your chair dramatically, “my driver will be here in an hour and a half. i’ll be fine,”

“you had seven glasses, i think fine is an exaggeration,” he mumbled, “let me take you home. i don’t want anything to happen you,” he didn’t want any guys to take advantage of you- didn’t want them to do the very things he was thinking of at that moment.

to his surprise, you agreed, and he suddenly wasn’t sure if it was relief or dread he felt. when he stood to leave, you stood with him, pulling yourself up by his arm and letting your touch linger once again, looking up at him and smiling so sweetly it was hard to believe you’d been throwing back drinks all night.

“come on, darlin,” he led you outside, opening doors and excusing the two of you, calling the valet and waiting patiently. he tried to train his eyes anywhere but you, looking entirely too long at the fountain, at the other cars, anywhere but your legs and your curled hair and your- “mr. donaldson,” your voice disturbed him once again, “it’s really cold,”

he glanced over, and you were shivering in the night air, holding your arms around your chest tightly. he acted before thinking, like he always did with you, and shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over your small shoulders lightly. “that better?” he asked softly, concern knitting his brows. you nodded, thanking him and taking the fabric into your hands, pulling it tighter around you.

“mr. don-“ “please, call me art,” it came out almost pained, but he truly didn’t know if he could take it anymore, the mr. and the way you looked at him, and then oh god- “okay, art,”

this was so much worse, his first name on your lips like that. he nearly choked on air, his cheeks reddening like a fucking high schooler. before he could dwell on it, the valet pulled his car around, tossing him the keys with a smile. he opened the door for you, looking over the car to avoid having to see your thighs sliding against the leather seat.

when he settled into the drivers side, pulling out of the lot, you finally spoke again. “your car is nice,” you hummed, tracing your fingers over the leather interior. he watched you, entranced, as he sat at a stop light. the way your fingernails scraped slightly over the fabric, the way you glanced over at him, a coy little smile on your lips.

he tried to ignore it, to just focus on the road. he maintained it for the most part, making it all the way to your street before he let it slip, glancing over at you. you looked to be half asleep, all curled up in his suit coat, your heels discarded in the floor and your feet tucked into the seat. you looked so peaceful, so angelic, he had to force his eyes away so he didn’t wreck his car.

he pulled into the drive, letting it idle just outside your gate, reaching over to touch your shoulder gently. “hey, sweetheart, you’re home,” he murmured, trying not to startle you awake, “come on, you gotta get up,”

you made a little noise as you stirred, turning in the seat to look up at him, yawning quietly. “thank you,” you said softly, and the air was suddenly so thick, it was so warm and you were so fucking beautiful- “will your wife be wondering where you are?”

all the breath left his lungs at that, at the presumption in your tone, the way you glanced him over as you asked. “ex wife,” he choked out, “we’re not- we got divorced,” “mm,” you hummed, smiling slightly, “that’s a shame. i’m sorry to hear that,”

“don’t be,” he said a little too quickly, “you really should go, darlin. it’s late,” you sat back to unbuckle your seatbelt, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to him carefully. “thank you again for the ride, art,” you said quietly, “it was really sweet of you. most guys would’ve tried something,”

the image was almost too much for him to bear- the thought of trying something with you, of getting to touch you, to make you come undone right there in the passenger seat of his car. he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, struggling to focus. “well, most guys are stupid,” he muttered, “you’re obviously too drunk to do anything,”

you let out a little laugh at that, shaking your head. “you’re so chivalrous,” you smiled, “maybe it’s because you’re older. i’m so tired of guys my age,” jesus christ, he was a goner. “yeah?” he exhaled shakily, “you’re tired of them? why’s that?”

“they just don’t know how to treat a woman,” you shrugged, “they’re rushed and greedy and assholes,” you giggled quietly, “you know how it is. i’m sure you have younger girls hanging all over you,” god, he wanted to. “no, no,” he shook his head quickly, “i don’t- i don’t want to take advantage of anyone that way,”

you leaned a little closer, the smell of your perfume suddenly clogging his senses, “well let me know if you ever change your mind,” you whispered, the heat blowing through the vents nearly drowning out the sound.

“sweetheart, you don’t- you’re drunk,” he managed to get out, his hands itching to grab at you, to do something. “i’m not that drunk,” you argued, pouting slightly, “anyway, i’m just saying. you have my number,”

you turned to get out, and he knew it was stupid, knew it was reckless and a bad idea and he’d regret it tomorrow and you were young and he was such a bad person, but then he was kissing you and you made a soft little preening sound and he knew he’d never regret it, not truly. he’d be a bad person if it meant he got to do this again, if he got to be the one to make you make that sound.

you kissed him back, draped across his center console to reach him, your hands on his shoulders and grabbing at his dress shirt and he could’ve lost it right there, could’ve pushed the seat back and pulled you into his lap and fucked you stupid, could’ve made you see what you were missing with all the boys your age. and he was sure you would’ve let him, if the noises you made from just his kisses were any indicator.

but then the motion light at your gate was on, and he was yanking away from you like a criminal caught, his eyes wide as he looked at your blown out pupils and smeared lipstick. “oh, shit,” you said under your breath, fixing your dress and grabbing your heels, “my dad tried to call my cell, i didn’t even notice. thank you again, art. i’ll see you at the club,”

and then you were gone, leaving the scent of your perfume and the tent in his slacks behind. he watched you put in the gate code and disappear behind it, his mind running wild with what he could’ve done to you.

when he got home, he tried to shower it off, to wash off the all consuming need he felt for you, the sins he’d nearly committed in his car. but his hands wandered and soon he was cursing and moaning your name under his breath as he came undone under the shower stream, images of you and that dress playing like a film in his mind.

when he got into bed and checked his phone, he had one unread message.

‘i had fun tonight. goodnight, art. x’

[strawberryblondedoll]

its true ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚