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A heavy IOF assault is under way in Jabaliya. The bombing and shelling are constant and all around them. The explosions are so close that the shockwaves are interfering with Nour’s heartbeat! The family is afraid that even if the bombs don’t kill them, the panic and shockwaves will stop 15-y/o Nour’s weakened heart!
They need to get out of this area ASAP!! They need $2000 usd (about $2,791 cad) to evacuate and pay rent for a safer space.
Current: $60,248 out of $63,039 cad
Need to raise: $2,791 cad (about $2000 usd)
Hello, I am Ibtisam Al-Habil.
My suffering began in 2014 when my husband was martyred, and I was … Yaser Matar needs your support for Help
-> We still have 100 prompts that need a home, please reach out to us if you are interested!
-> Apologies for being MIA, our mods have been caught up with things irl, if you have posted prompts here that have not been reblogged by us yet, please link them below!
Sign up form here:
Thank you for volunteering! Please read our Carrd before signing up: https://fengqingaction.carrd.co/
Minors under 18 are allowed to join,
General Audiences | banter, bickering | last one out for @fengqingaction
“You’re late,” Mu Qing greeted. He was leaning against the hood of his shiny new car and scowling disapprovingly at Feng Xin’s steaming coffee cup.
“So are you. You’re supposed to go inside, you know,” Feng Xin returned, moving to walk past.
“I’ve already been inside,” Mu Qing sneered. “We’re supposed to be setting out now."
“At least let me clock in first.”
Mu Qing shrugged. “Take your time. I could probably solve this by myself anyway.”
“Thanks for waiting,” said Feng Xin insincerely, already climbing into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”
“Who put you in charge?” Mu Qing complained, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the key. “But for once you’re right. Let’s go.”
They drove in tense silence, Feng Xin shuffling the debrief papers just for something to do.
“Are you gonna read those out?” Mu Qing asked.
“What, didn’t you wait to be briefed?” Feng Xin teased.
“Of course I waited!” Mu Qing yelled. “Don’t read the papers, then! I don’t care!”
“Oh, but since you asked so nicely…”
“No! I don’t want to hear it!”
OR: millionaire detective au!
“I hate him,” Feng Xin complained. The coffee shop queue inched forward; he shuffled along obediently, checking his watch. “And I’m gonna be late.”
“Well, we’ll both be late, then,” Xie Lian comforted, squinting at the menu. “Why do they put the menu behind the counter? By the time you can read it, it’s time to order!”
“You always get the same thing anyway,” Feng Xin reminded him. “At least if you’re late, that’s your only inconvenience of the day. My whole partner is an inconvenience.”
“Isn’t that a little unfair? He’s barely started work.”
“And he’s already fucking annoying!”
At the front of the line, someone dropped their coffee. Feng Xin groaned. “This is such a great start to the day,” he snarked, checking his watch again.
“You never know, maybe this is all the bad luck we’ll get,” Xie Lian suggested, still peering at the menu like an old man who forgot his glasses.
“Did you forget your glasses?”
“For the last time, I don’t need glasses!”
“Do you want me to read the menu out to you?”
“….Yes please.”
Feng Xin dutifully began reeling off the various combinations, knowing full well Xie Lian would end up ordering his usual with a sheepish grin and an ‘I couldn’t decide!’. Xie Lian listened attentively until he got to the front of the line.
“Your usual, sir?” the cashier asked, already tapping the order in.
“Please,” said Xie Lian, ignoring Feng Xin’s eyeroll.
“You’re late,” Mu Qing greeted. He was leaning against the hood of his shiny new car and scowling disapprovingly at Feng Xin’s steaming coffee cup.
“So are you. You’re supposed to go inside, you know,” Feng Xin returned, moving to walk right past his new partner.
“I’ve already been inside,” Mu Qing sneered. “We’re supposed to be setting out now.”
“At least let me clock in first.”
Mu Qing shrugged. “Take your time. I could probably solve this by myself anyway.”
Feng Xin rolled his eyes and continued into the office block, followed by Xie Lian. They swiped their cards; Xie Lian continued into their office, but after the mission’s debrief papers had been shoved into his hands, Feng Xin turned on his heel and went back to where Mu Qing was still stood against his car, surrounded his usual palpable air of sarcasm.
“Thanks for waiting,” said Feng Xin insincerely, already climbing into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”
“Who put you in charge?” Mu Qing complained, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the key. “But for once you’re right. Let’s go.”
They drove in silence; Mu Qing’s earpiece, which Feng Xin was still suspicious of, was talking to its owner at a volume too quiet for Feng Xin to understand, but he could make out the awkward rise and fall of a robotic voice. Did Mu Qing have a robot butler or something? It seemed like the kind of thing someone with too much money would have.
“Do you have a fuckin’ robot butler or something?” Feng Xin was not one to keep thoughts inside his own head for long.
“Kind of,” said Mu Qing, which was more civil than could really have been expected. He didn’t elaborate, though, so Feng Xin fell back into the tense silence, shuffling the debrief papers just for something to do.
“Are you gonna read those out?” Mu Qing asked.
“What, didn’t you wait to be briefed?” Feng Xin teased. From the look on Mu Qing’s face, he was fighting not to rise to the obvious bait.
It was a losing battle. “Of course I waited!” Mu Qing yelled. “Don’t read the papers! I don’t care!”
“Oh, but since you asked so nicely…”
“No! I don’t want to hear it!”
“No need for the attitude! I was trying to be civil!”
“You were not! Civil people don’t argue with coworkers for fun!”
“Who said this was fun?! I’m not having any fucking fun!”
“Then stop arguing!”
Silence again.
“….So where are we going?” Feng Xin asked.
“FOR GOD’S SAKE, READ THE PAPERS!”
Mu Qing stopped the car on a seemingly innocuous street; it was clean, busy and perfectly normal, as far as Feng Xin could tell. He scanned the sides of the buildings for suspicious alleyways or lurking people, but couldn’t see any.
“Did you read everything?” Mu Qing asked. He didn’t move to leave the car.
“Two street performers found to have been buying a dangerous drug, mescaline,” Feng Xin recited. “We are to investigate and arrest if necessary.”
Mu Qing nodded. “Well, off you go then.”
“Stop slacking off! You have to come with me!”
“I don’t see why.”
“Because it’s your fucking job!”
“Not at all. My job is to investigate. I’m sure you can find some street performers by yourself.”
“They aren’t even on this street! How am I supposed to find-“
Mu Qing’s earpiece interrupted Feng Xin’s tirade with a loud BEEEEEEP.
“They’re here now,” said Mu Qing. He leaned over to open Feng Xin’s door and started to push him out. “Go on then.”
“What- how do you- I don’t think- can you fucking stop-“
Mu Qing gave him one last shove, pushing Feng Xin out into the street. “Bring them back here, kay?”
Feng Xin glared at him. “Fuck you.”
“No thank you,” Mu Qing sniffed, and closed the car door again. The tinted windows prevented Feng Xin from seeing his partner’s expression, but he could imagine it.
It was irritating.
With a sigh, Feng Xin dusted himself off and started to look around again. Most of his original observations still held true; it was clean, busy, and absent of suspicious characters. The only difference was the two people setting up speakers by a big tree close to the centre of the widest part of the road. They weren’t particularly suspicious in themselves, and without the CCTV footage proving they’d bought the drug they probably would never have been truly suspected.
He stepped up to them with a smile, flashing his ID and trying to appear pleasant, despite the lingering irritation with Mu Qing.
“Good morning, my name is Feng Xin, and I’d just like to ask you two a few questions.”
It took a long time, following the drug’s trail through endless connections. From the street performers to their friends, through minor celebrities that played small bars downtown right into the model Isezaki. Luckily for him, Mu Qing had enough connections to get right to the bottom of it and clear him of the major blame.
“So who gets the blame, then?” asked Feng Xin impatiently.
“Gondawara Gumi,” said Mu Qing.
“The organized crime group?”
“No, they sell mayonnaise.”
“….Seriously?”
“No, idiot! They’re an organized crime group!”
Feng Xin shrugged. “You never joke, how was I supposed to know you were kidding?”
“This isn’t the place for humour,” Mu Qing sniffed.
“It’s not like you have any friends to joke with anywhere else.”
“I have friends!”
“And I’ve got twenty pet pigs in my backpack right now.” Feng Xin hadn’t anticipated how genuinely fun riling up such a stiff person could be. Mu Qing’s glares got fiercer every time he had to hold himself back from punching Feng Xin in the face, which just made Feng Xin want to push him further.
"I will kill you," said Mu Qing.
"Not if I kill you first!"
"So...what are you trying, exactly?" Mita asked, trying to keep up with Feng Xin's long strides.
"I'm trying to infiltrate this fuckin' party," Feng Xin replied, scanning the list of floors in the elevator. "I think it's floor 84? Does that sound right?"
Mita, poor journalist that he was, simply followed along and tried not to get in the way. "Is it a party full of evil people?"
"Basically," Feng Xin agreed, and waited for the elevator doors to open. "Now look like you're meant to be here."
Mita attempted to straighten his tie while Feng Xin smoothed back his own hair.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
They stepped out of the lift, confidently accepting drinks from the waiter on standby and beginning to circulate as best they could, being vague about their 'business plans' and their connection to Gondawara Gumi, the hosts of the banquet.
"We're looking for the boss," Feng Xin whispered.
"What do we do when we find him?"
"Leave that to me." Feng Xin hoped he sounded confident. In reality, it was all he could do to find out where this party was being held, courtesy of Mu Qing's - girlfriend? Assistant? Who knew who she was, but she had infiltrated the group admirably and brought them back some sweet, sweet information. Well, she'd brought it back for Mu Qing. Feng Xin had just happened to be there at the time.
All he needed was some evidence, right? He could bring it back to HQ, show Mu Qing up for being useless, end the partnership, and get back to working with Xie Lian like he was supposed to.
"Is that him?" Mita hissed.
Feng Xin turned as inconspicuously as possibly, spotting a man surrounded by a large group of people, all of whom were listening to him talk with a strange kind of tense reverence. "Uh. Probably."
They crept closer. Feng Xin started trying to spot gaps in the crowd where he could squeeze in. They gathered some strange looks from the rest of the man's 'audience'; it could have been because the crowd didn't recognise them, or it could have been because the crowd hated being pushed around as Feng Xin fought for a space to listen to the mob boss speak. He seemed to be ranting about the economy?
"If he's anything like my dad, he'll be at it for hours," Mita whispered. Feng Xin nodded, and started to creep forward and around until he was practically stood by the boss's left side.
"AND THEN, they said I had to pay 20% of it in taxes!" the boss hollered. The audience booed; Feng Xin used the cover to sneak closer and grab what looked like a phone from the table next to the (admittedly zoned-out-looking) security guard. He slipped it into his pocket and snuck back into the crowd.
"I think I got it," he celebrated. "Let's go before-" The rest of his sentence got cut off by a strong hand grabbing his bicep. "What-"
"Get a move on," Mu Qing hissed in his ear. "We've got to go."
"Why the fuck-"
"Let's go, idiot, we haven't got all day!" Mu Qing started to drag Feng Xin away, Mita on their heels looking anxious.
"Why do we have to go?" Feng Xin managed, staring in wonder at Mu Qing's arms. They just looked like twigs to him, but apparently they had more muscle than originally advertised.
"You're messing up my plan," Mu Qing said.
"Last time I checked, you didn't have a plan!"
"You didn't check, moron. You just went for it." Mu Qing had succeeded at yanking Feng Xin almost the entire way back to the elevator, smiling and nodding at anyone who looked a little concerned.
"This isn't very subtle," Feng Xin noted, attempting to turn back around and walk into the party again.
"It's too late for that, you absolute fucking dumbass," Mu Qing said - and before Feng Xin could tease him for picking up the bad language, Mu Qing swept an arm under his legs and carried him into the elevator.
"WHAT THE FUCK," Feng Xin yelled.
"Shut up," Mu Qing told him. "I didn't want to do it either. It's your fault for coming here."
"How is it my fault that you decided-"
"This is my building now," Mu Qing interrupted. When the elevator doors opened, he stepped in and immediately dropped Feng Xin.
"So what?" Feng Xin snarked, rubbing his tailbone as he stood up. "And that fucking hurt."
"It was meant to, genius." Mu Qing tapped his earpiece. "Have it on standby," he told it, but didn't elaborate, even at Feng Xin's curious eyebrow raise. "And you," he added, turning to Feng Xin. "Stop doing stuff by yourself."
It was only when they'd exited that Feng Xin realised why he and Mita had been evacuated so quickly; after buying the building, Mu Qing had it flooded with sleeping gas.
"I would've been out for the count," Feng Xin realised.
"You never know. Your skull might be so thick it the gas wouldn't get to you."
Feng Xin glared at him. "What is your fucking problem?"
"His name is Feng Xin, he's twenty something years old-"
"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW OLD I AM?!"
"Why would I? We won't even be working together after this, thank god."
"Thank god," said Feng Xin, for once in agreement -
but it will not surprise you, dear reader, to know that they kept working together - and upon reaching this discovery, they punched each other's lights out.
Creators, for those who have not responded to our first wave of check in forms yet, please check your emails/dms, as we have just sent the form again ^^
Mu Qing finds out that Feng Xin has a lovely singing voice when he finds him singing to their newborn son to put him to sleep. He resolves to make Feng Xin sing again.
*
My first completed prompt for @fengqingaction! This wonderful prompt was submitted by @/corallis0n on Twitter!
Hello! We still have over 100+ unassigned prompts looking for a home 🏹 🗡️ so if any creator would be interested in signing up as a pinch hitter, it would be greatly appreciated!!
Re: deadline:
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Minors under 18 are allowed to join,
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