pluto’s darling @plutokore - Tumblr Blog

Vetted fundraiser masterpost-masterpost

سكرت الإنبكس، ليش؟

General information about my blog.

What follows is a collection of links to various posts concerning fundraisers I've vetted and instructions on how to submit fundraisers to me. These are primarily ones for Ghazzan families although some fundraisers for Sudanese families are also listed (I'm more familiar with my own country's politics and dialect and am more capable of vetting fundraisers for Palestinians as a result).

I know that people do not like clicking on links, but please actually look through the posts / Google Sheet and choose a fundraiser to donate to. Please.

Instructions on how to submit a fundraiser. (for those not Ghazzan) Paused تعليمات لتقديم طلب توثيق و نشر حملات التبرعات الخاصة بالغزاويين و عائلاتهم (للغزاويين فقط) مسكر!

كيف تستعمل تومبلر الموقع (لساتني عم اعمل النشرة)

Our Google doc list compiling vetted fundraisers.

Gazavetters' vetted list (not associated, but from all information available, I trust them)

Unvetted but highly likely legitimate fundraisers.

Additional fundraisers for various purposes - (TO BE UPDATED)

On "gazavetters" (not associated) 28/10/2024, !Update posted!

About the targeted harassment campaign against Palestinians on tumblr, from August 2nd to August 3rd 2024. Now extended to August 7th because of writing-prompt-s' and badjokesbyjeff's accusations and slander.

mintmatcha

immortal and the human they've been cursed to watch die over and over again

mintmatcha

he remembers the first time you left him, the way you gently gave into the fever and went. the heat of your skin rose and rose, then it was over, and then you were gone. he gave you one last kiss on your cracked lips and pretended you were there to feel it.

he mourned, of course. harder than he had ever mourned any other lover he had ever entertained.

it was fifty years later before he saw you again. a baker's daughter, softer around the waist, with the same laugh you've always had. of course, you had no memory of your past life, but you fell into loving him like it was habit.

that death was the hardest.

Heat took you once again, this time in the form of fire. the bakery's flame caught your skirt and you along with it. by the time you were saved, it was too late. the final days of your life were spent in horrible pain, crying and screaming and begging for death. by the time it came, it felt overdue.

the cycle kept repeating. the two of you would meet and within five years, you would die. illness and childbirth and a stray bullet from war; even in the lives he tried to avoid you, tragedy would follow. once, you had married another man, only for him kill you within the month.

the worst part, he thinks as he stares at the most current iteration of you, is that his chest still flutters with joy when he sees you for the first time. that, despite the trauma and heartbreak and horror, he still loves you more than anything.

mintmatcha

He can feel it coming this time. There's a tickle in the back of his mind, like a click ticking down each second he has left.

"You've got-" He tugs the laces of your boots, your foot stepping up on his thigh. He loves kneeling over like this, at your feet. it reminds him of the very short life you had as a princess. "To tie your shoes better."

"What's gotten into you?" you laugh. "I'm not made of glass."

He lets you pull away, sitting back on to his heels. It's amazing how little your face has changed over all of your lives, how you still look the way you did when he first laid eyes on you, just with more lines around your smile. This is the oldest you've ever been-- and maybe ever will be. "Are you sure? I could swaddle you in bubble wrap, just to be safe."

You roll your eyes with a smile. "Sure, I'll just walk around the office covered in bubblewrap. My boss will love that."

The itch in his head gets stronger.

"Why don't you stay home for work today?" His hand runs up your leg, more appreciative than sexual. "Spend the day with me."

He leans forward and presses his head into your thigh, the way you've always been weak for. Your hands immediately find his hair and scratch his scalp, your body's tension giving in just a bit.

"Well..."

"Please." He's not really speaking to you. "Just give me one day."

You give in gently.

"Anything for you."

It happens three hours later.

You're laughing, pulling your shirt back on post sex. Lately, you've been insatiable and he knows why.

"I'm just saying-" you muse. "we're stable, we're in love. I'm just waiting for the ring."

He knows. He still has your original ring, the one he always takes from your finger before burying you.

"I'm not getting any younger. I wanna have babies and t-"

Your eyes shift a bit. It's subtle, until you make this garbled sound, not quite a word at all, like your tongue has disconnected from your brain.

Before he can get up, you're on the ground. Just like always, you're give into death gently.

The beat of your heart is gone before he can even call for help. By the time the EMTs arrive, you're cold. They cover you with a blanket, like it saves your diginity as you wheel you out of the apartment building. He cries, just like he always does, when the doctors tell him it was an aneurysm, that nothing could have saved you.

That's the horrible truth he needs to learn to swallow. Nothing could have saved you. Nothing will save you.

mintmatcha

For the first time in centuries, he speaks to the thing that made him. It comes only in the deepest of nights, when the winter air is most bitter.

"Why do you curse me like this?"

The voice tastes of forgotten pine, a species now lost. "Why do you speak in tongues I do not know?"

The language should be dead, but it rolls off his tongue as easily as it did back then. No written word, no official name in the modern tongue: a secret between him and the monster he's bonded to.

"You take her from me, life after life." He never ages, but he feels young again, angry, reckless. "You lied to me when you promised a painless life. You lied when you promised no one else would die."

The wind howls with insult. There's a moment where he can feel it there, hunched and hovering above his shoulder, maw gaped and empty.

"The only lie is the one you tell yourself."

It's gone again, nothing but a whispering voice on the breeze. Without worshippers, it no longer holds much power. Without him, it would fade into nothing, just like the other forgotten gods.

"I know your mind does not fail you. You remember your first meeting with the girl."

"In the summer fields."

"Ach. Your lie." It growls its words. "That was her second life."

He has no answer to that. No, he had met you in the fields, right after the grain had sprouted. The memory is his prized possession.

"You play your tricks again."

"You truly forget the face of the woman you sacrificed in my name?" The hiss runs a chill up his spine. "The one who you killed with your own hands? The one who's blood you drank to live for all eternity?"

Blood is always the price. He had taken a woman from the neighboring village, covered her face in cloth so he could not see the tragedy he was committing. The ritual was long, grueling, and the girl had almost died too soon multiple times, but she fought to live, fought against his hand-

"No." Those screams. Were they yours? "That's- no."

"You had chosen her to die, so you may live."

His stomach turns as he remembers the taste of your blood on his lips, the metal aftertaste as you fought with the last ounce of life-

"Now, she dies."

#omg #this concept is already so GOOD but the ending HOLYYY #writing

battlecrazed-axe-mage

So we're all gonna let the new Harry Potter show die on the vine, right? No hatewatching. No thinkpieces. No videos about how bad it is. Deprive it of oxygen and let it wither away unremarked-upon and unprofitable; make HBO lose their entire investment and prove to the corporate entertainment sphere that the entire IP is poison. And spend that time doing something that brings you joy instead.

gayvampyr

i think tumblr ads automatically opening a tab on your phone if you touch them while scrolling should be considered a form of malware

batsandboba

@munnchausenzip i can't lie, it goes hard (x) (x)

simoneashley

Charithra Chandran attends the 98th Oscars at Dolby Theatre on March 15, 2026

#god is a woman #charithra chandran

probuccalfat

whenever people say canada is an unserious country or a zany joke it pisses me off and not because i feel like mocked or anything but because i find it wild rude and disrespectful to the indigenous peoples that have been harmed in this nation… genuinely nothing funny about the residential schools or the 60s scoop or the highway of tears or the forced sterilization of indigenous women

probuccalfat

“some of your money smells like maple syrup so silly and unserious 😂” sometimes our police officers take indigenous men who are struggling with addiction and mental illness or otherwise homeless, mentally unwell, addict men and drive them far far away from the place they know into the canadian wilderness and abandon them to die from exposure to the elements. it’s called starlight tours.

veryberryskye

wore a white dress and walked in the rain to the barracks so all the knights could see my skin peeking through the fabric and i said “oh my, excuse me ladies, it seems i got myself lost in the downpour… i’m all alone and no one even knows i’m here…” and they just gave me warm clothes and made me soup so i didn’t catch a cold and escorted me back to my room. i fucking hate chivalry

veryberryskye

just watched the knight that escorted me pick up a maid and twirl her around and carry her back toward the barracks while she giggled and blushed and kicked her legs. fuck my extravagant princess life

#I would commit unspeakable horrors