And while this is happening while people are buried under rubble, while children freeze in tents, while entire families vanish overnight powerful men sit comfortably and present plans for a “New Gaza.”
Clean slides. Perfect buildings. Investment numbers. A future imagined without the people who are currently being erased.
They talk about peace while bombs are still falling. They talk about rebuilding while destruction is ongoing. They draw maps over land that is soaked with blood and call it hope.
The ceasefire is a lie.
What’s happening is ethnic cleansing, repackaged with the language of development and diplomacy. You cannot build a “new” city by destroying the people who belong to it. You cannot promise a future while actively killing the present.
This isn’t peace. It’s violence with better branding.
Today, three journalists were killed in a single airstrike.
Not soldiers. Not fighters. Journalists. People who believed that if they kept documenting, if they kept filming, if they kept writing, the world would eventually care.
In Gaza, telling the truth has become one of the most dangerous things you can do. Holding a camera is treated like holding a weapon. Every photo risks your life. Every report could be your last.
They had names. Families. People waiting for them to come home. They were not numbers, and they were not mistakes. They were silenced because truth is inconvenient, because images expose what statements try to hide.
When journalists are killed, it’s not just lives that are lost it’s evidence. It’s memory. It’s the last barrier between reality and denial.
…
Donations for GAZA
This donation campaign is for ANAS family. Not for strangers, not for a cause I’m distant from but for the people who raised me, the people I love, the people I’m terrified of losing.
They are in Gaza, trying to survive something no human being should ever have to endure. Constant bombardment, displacement, hunger, fear, and the feeling that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Every day is about staying alive one more night.
If you choose to help, you are not donating to an abstract crisis. You are helping real people with names, memories, and lives that matter to me more than anything.
🔗 This is a verified Chuffed campaign to support family:
Campaign Update
If you can’t donate, please reblog. Visibility is sometimes the only protection we have left.❤️
Some accounts are tagged to help people see this campaign. It’s not spam. If you don’t want to participate, simply scroll.
is that female character really that uninteresting and irrelevant and lacking personality or do you just choose not to read any of her scenes as deeply as you would with a male character
hi I hate to start discourse on a monday morning but every writer here should block this person stat. there is no reliable way to detect AI writing in a vacuum (eg, with a tool), and in fact AI detection tools have been found to disproportionately flag non-native english speakers. identifying AI-generated works is an ongoing challenge that exists in educational settings among paid professionals. amateur writers on tumblr who are strangers to each other's repertoires and styles are not going to have any way of accurately identifying human- vs AI-generated writing.
targeting writers for having writing that is "too formal" or "too bland" (both incredibly subjective judgments) is absolutely the type of behaviour that people will try to use to cancel writers that they have personal beef with, or who are writing content that they disagree with. in other words - it's going to become a tool for censorship and witch hunts. fandom is going to go down a very dark path if we become comfortable with throwing around AI accusations. the best path to avoid AI in fandom is to have honest and candid conversations about how the unchecked proliferation of AI is incredibly destructive for creatives and to encourage people to disclose the use of AI if they wish to post fics/art that utilize it.
do not send hate, do not harass - just block and warn other people about this account.
"Friends outside of Minnesota please read. I'm sharing a post written by a personal friend and medical doctor:
Friends outside MN, you need to know what is happening here. Everyone knows that ICE shot and killed a woman here on Wednesday. But that’s not the only thing that’s going on:
ICE agents are cruising areas with immigrant-owned businesses, and kidnapping patrons and employees alike. Yesterday they abducted two US citizen employees at a suburban Target, one who was begging them to allow him to go get his passport to show them.
ICE is going door to door in immigrant-heavy neighborhoods, asking residents where their immigrant neighbors live. Read that again. If it sounds like something out of your high school history textbook, that’s because it is.
ICE is targeting schools and school buses. They pepper sprayed teenagers and abducted two school staff members at the high school up the street from me on Wednesday. Police are literally escorting school buses to ensure children can get to school and home safely. The Minneapolis Public Schools have moved to virtual learning for the next 4 weeks because it’s unsafe for children or teachers to physically come to school.
They are targeting hospitals and clinics. Patients are scared and are cancelling their appointments or just not showing up. Kids are missing their checkups and vaccines, folks aren’t getting their cancer care, etc.
They are smashing windows in cars and homes.
ICE is increasingly picking up Native Americans—again, targeting folks based on skin color alone.
They are arresting and beating legal observers. A friend of a friend had her arm broken yesterday. Folks are showing up at local hospitals, brought in in ICE custody, with severe injuries that are absolutely inconsistent with mechanism of injury reported by ICE. (Think: patient appears to have been beaten unconscious, while ICE agent says he slipped and fell.)
I can’t emphasize enough that these ICE agents do not have warrants. There are 2,000+ agents here and they are simply hunting for anyone that’s not white. It doesn’t matter if you’re a citizen or a green card holder, they will kidnap you first and ask questions later.
But the community is fighting back.
Protests are happening every day.
Community groups have been leading know-your-rights sessions for months, often to packed venues.
Whistles are being distributed by the thousands, carried on keychains and worn on coat zippers, always at the ready to be blown in warning if ICE is spotted.
Drivers are following ICE vehicles, blaring their horns in warning.
Businesses are locking their doors even while open to keep employees and customers safe. As I type this, I’m standing guard at the locked door of our neighborhood burrito joint while I wait for my takeout order, so the employees can focus on their jobs. The place is packed with neighbors supporting this small business.
Anti-ICE signs are posted everywhere. The community is making it crystal clear that ICE is not welcome here.
Parents and neighbors are standing guard outside schools, organizing carpools, and escorting kids to and from school on foot.
Parents of kids in Spanish-immersion daycare (there are a LOT of these daycares here!) are keeping their kids home so the teachers don’t have to take the risk of coming to work.
Churches and community groups are holding fundraisers to buy and deliver groceries to families who don’t feel safe leaving home.
Mutual aid money is going out to folks who can’t make rent because they can’t work or because a breadwinner was abducted, or who need a warm place to stay after their home’s windows were smashed.
THAT is what is happening here. This fight is ongoing and it’s horrifying to watch. But we are not backing down. To my friends in other cities and states, don’t think for a minute that this won’t happen in your town. It will. Be ready. Learn from us, as we have learned from Portland and Chicago and New York. Fight back. Don’t let us get to the last line of Martin Niemoller’s poem.”
-Grant Boulanger
Here's an AP news brief with a little more info. It's limited in the way major news outlets are right now but provides context that supports the personal account shared.
In a world where musics and politics are never found without the other, you are the IPC's pride and joy - a violin prodigy known both for your skill and unpredictability. When Penacony, and therefore the Family, are finally seized under the IPC, it is only fitting that their prized pianist, Sunday Oak, is offered to you as an accompanist.
accompanist!sunday x gn!violinist!reader
contains: modern au (kind of), (old) rivals to lovers (they've kind of mellowed out but they're still sassy), slow burn (takes several years holy shit these dumbasses), PINING. god. the pining. aventurine and topaz cameos, slight in-universe politics, worldbuilding is kind of shit don't think about it too hard
status: complete
additional notes: gift for @st6rly !! from. a while ago. does bro even like sunday anymore. banner art is by anar_9158 !!! please enjoy and uh . im sorry if it sucks lol. special thanks to @florinoir and @tragedy-of-commons for briefly beta-reading!! ilygs forever <3 fun fact this was supposed to be a oneshot but i. I BROKE THE BLOCK LIMIT IMSHITITNG I DIDNT EVEN KNOW WE HAD THAT anyway additional notes/rambling utc LMAO
additional additional rambling: U8EUUE9EIEUEHEYEYHE sunday playing the piano does shit to me okay. ANYWAYS. im so. NO ONE THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE FINISHED i have nearly committed suicide like ten times. i'm not even going to say what this is for because this is so embarassing but like. atlys are you proud of me. im free ( i say as i have an event and another series to catch up on). NEVER LET ILLU WRITE GIFTS EVER AGAIN. i still have some qualms w this work however i have decided that if i keep agonizing over it i will be trapped in war forever and so i will shut up and just publish and if it sucks ygs can stone me to death. yes this is why i was on a semi-hiatus for like 10 months i was writing this piece of dookie
hi everyone !! times r getting tough, and it’s come to the point where i have to help my parents out with expenses bc it’s getting harder for them to support us. so - i’m opening writing comms for the first time ever !! 🤍
TOS + PRICING :
• for drabbles, payment will be entirely upfront. please keep in mind i tend to go over set word limits. however, i won’t charge extra for that cause that’s entirely on my end lol
• SMAUs do fit under the drabble option, but cost $5 more depending on the genre, and bc more work goes into them. reaction texts, or anything that is considered short and sweet, are base price ($5). longer smau requests cost $10 max.
• anything over 5k word count costs more due to the amount of time i spend working on it. if you’ve followed me for awhile, you know it takes an absurdly long time for me to write longer fics. please be patient with me, and know i write at my own pace. i’m also a full time student with a social life and have frequent doctor’s visits. i don’t always have time to write.
• payment for anything 5k word count and above will be half upfront and half once i am finished. in the case we both don’t know how long the fic wc will be, i will let you know later into my progress how much the payment will be. payment can be made through my ko-fi ONLY.
• talks about commissions and payments will be thorough so that we are both on the same page. please communicate as much as you can with me, and i will do the same with you! to ensure this process goes smoothly, let’s both work together 🤍
• i am open to writing for selfships, but you must be detailed and thorough with your descriptions of your self insert. if possible, please provide an entire doc or description page beforehand that i can actively read through. even better if it’s neat and organized for better access!
• there are currently 4 SLOTS OPEN. first come, first serve - however, i have the right to refuse a comm for whatever reason.
• you can find everyone i write for on this post. at this time, i am only writing for hoyoverse and stray kids. i will only take commissions for those fandoms.
• please be detailed and thorough with what you want for your comm !! i am not a mind reader, and i can work better with detailed prompts.
• please dm me to claim a slot ! note that i often don’t use dms here on tumblr, so i may not see your message right away. but since i will be actively checking due to comms, response times should be fairly quick unless i’m busy irl.
prev: #u forgot the best part#the artist figured out the gig and was like#i draw for u for the rest of my life#these chinese netizens are having shojou level romances
STOP. POSTING. DOM SUNDAY!!!!! THAT MAN IS A PATHETIC VIRGIN WHO COVERS HIS EYES WITH THE WINGS BEHIND HIS EARS WHEN HE SEES YOU NAKED, HE DOESN'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT HIS HANDS AND HE WHIMPERS LIKE A BITCH
SYNOPSIS. . . Mindless with a high fever, delirium overtakes you as you struggle to fall asleep in the hollow darkness, until your significant other comes in to tranquil your worries.
CHARACTER FEATURED. . . Blade
CW: gender-neutral reader, not proofread, hurt/comfort, mentions of hallucinations and derealization in case that bugs anyone, idk what else to add so lemme know if smth bothers you
A/N's note: GUESS WHO IS BACK BABYYY. at least for now until i vanish for another year lmao. so fucking sorry for the extreme lack of updates; here's a blade fic for you to feed on.
January 3rd, the year 8000-something.
It was only the third day of the new year, and you had already fallen with a high fever without being able to care for yourself—especially with your lover out of town.
Everyone else had gone along with the new 'script' Elio had assigned them. All except. That damned Destiny's Slave had left you out of it, whether on purpose or not. Anyway, you were left to your own devices with only the black cat as company, though you suppose he did try his best to treat you.
The situation was kind of funny. You rarely ever got sick, thanks to your well-built constitution, but when you did, it was always came in bad. You couldn't help but giggle to yourself as you drenched yourself in the cold shower, the fresh water soothing against your burning skin.
Blade. You wanted to see Blade. Bladie, Yingxing, your Blade. But you probably had to wait another few days or so until he came back.
But you really, really, really, did wanted to see him again. To be in his arms and trace the scars decorating his body and kiss them all the while. To play and braid his ombre hair. To sit in silence alongside him while stargazing on the terrace.
Ugh. Destiny's Slave truly was cruel.
You turned off the water, got out of the shower and clumsily dried yourself off, unknowingly leaving droplets of aqua in your hair to drip onto the marble tiled floor. Putting on your nightclothes, you staggered to your bedroom just wanting to be put to rest. You'd be lucky if it was for eternity.
For some reason, you started to feel sad. Maybe it was the absence of Blade's presence or the overall silence—which you hated—of the opulent shared penthouse, but your eyes began to turn teary.
In an attempt to distract yourself, you dried your hair more aggressively this time and wiped away your incoming tears, raking your fingers through your tangled locks of hair, but a knot blocked your trail, forcing you to get a hairbrush to rip it out. With your vision being all swirly, you groped around your vanity in hopes of finding the necklace your lover gifted you when he returned from the Xianzhou to put on, but it was a futile search.
Now on the verge of breaking down into hysterics, you attempted to turn on the glass-stained lamp on your nightstand, but due to the barely visible moonlight seeping through the window, you failed to do so. In an abrupt fit of frustration, you slapped the lamp, causing to tremble slightly.
Then, you collapsed into your bed, weeping into your silk pillowcase.
Everything suddenly appeared terrifying. It frightened you how you weren't able to differentiate between illusions and reality, causing you to repeatedly check your surroundings to make sure you weren't in some cluttered cellar being held hostage for whatever reason.
Blade. You wanted to be with Blade.
Your heart hurt. It felt as if some unknown being's hands were beginning to squeeze the blood out of the organ, vermilion liquid flowing through your sweaty body. It felt as if a metal wrecking ball had slammed into your skull, for a throbbing migraine had spread throughout your head.
You ended up bursting into sobs, your shivering frame curling up against the soft quilt on your bed. You swore there were shadowy figures standing in the corners of your room, watching you agonize in your suffering while they did nothing, but the fever had gotten a strong grip on you before you could discover it was just a hallucination.
You missed Blade. You wanted to tell him "I love you," but unfortunately, telepathy didn't exist just yet. And who knew where your phone was...
Helpless, unknowing of what to do, you muttered, "I'm sorry, Blade... I'm really sorry," over and over again your pneuma was slowly being drained out of you.
Your throat felt too dry, but your legs felt like jelly when you tried to get on the move. You would get painkillers for the migraine, but you didn't know where they were, let alone if there were any in the infirmary. Perhaps a bit of classical music would do you some good. After all, the saying went like this: "Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."
So exhausted. You just wanted to—
Out of nowhere, you heard your bedroom door click open, the ominous creak only deepening your anxiety—and then a deep yet quiet sigh was heard.
Your sobs cut off instantaneuosly, and your eyes burned as you squinted in the dark to make out the versimilatude tall figure amongst the fading shadowy figures. His tailcoat swayed slightly, and his arms were crossed as he stopped right at your bedside.
You grinned, still in the clutches of your delirium, believing he was another trick from your mind, even though you wanted to see him.
He wasn't an illusion though.
"Bladie," you called out, almost relieved at the sight of him.
The man said nothing in response to the nickname. Instead, his hand moved to turn on the glass-stained lamp you had somehow struggled to turn on, the ambience now softly illuminated by the warm golden glow of the artificial light.
He faced you once more, flame-colored eyes looking down at your flushed face. He reached out to push out the stray strands of hair sticking to the sweat, his touch as light as a butterfly's. It was as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you. Heh, how considerate.
"Rest. Go to sleep."
Aeons, the migraine pounded so terribly it felt like your head was going to break apart into smithereens; however, his words managed to still your crazed state, even if merely for a short time. Your hands were gripping onto the quilt, eyes hazy as you silently gazed back at him like he was an undiscovered species.
Seeing that you weren't able to rest properly, Blade left your room, returning quickly with a white cloth and a bottle of medicine. He went to sit on the edge of your bed, lifting your head up slightly so you could take a few sips of the bittersweet medicine. Seemingly satisfied now, he lowered your head and set the wet cloth on your forehead, hoping that it would help lower your fever down a bit.
"Don't go," your voice managed to rasp out, a trembling hand reaching out to touch his cheek.
He grabbed ahold of your hand and planted a kiss on your knuckles. He patted the limb, setting it on his chest where his heart was located so you could be reassured that he was real; that he was here, alive and well.
"I won't go," he replied.
Your crying had resumed. You didn't even know why you were genuinely sad. Maybe the woes of bygone memories had come to enact vengeance while you were in this fragile state, or perchance the wintry weather outside had taken a toll on your emotional well-being, considering how much it bothered you that it snowed too much, knowing how you couldn't curse Mother Nature for it. Or was it how careful Blade was being with you? No one in your early life has ever been so...sweet with you.
"Blade," you called out again, your grip tightening on his hand. No more words needed to be said to express your emotions.
The swordsman shushed you, his free hand stroking your hair, the action giving off a tingly sensation throughout your scalp. "I'm here," he reassured you. "I'm not going anywhere. Not here, not now."
"Everything will be alright."
He wiped away your tears, both the recent and dried ones. Letting go of you, he lifted the quilt and tucked you in, making sure the warmth wasn't too overwhelming. Once he made sure of it, he leaned down to kiss you on the cheek, his thumb stroking the skin.
"Don't worry about me leaving," Blade comforted. "Sleep in peace. I will remain here until you wake up."
im going to change my tumblr bio, so ignore the mess, and then i may try to start writing shit again cause i keep saying that and ive left yall hangin for too long
MY GOD, MY UNIVERSE... @venus-isms - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag