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I can vouch personally for the validity of this campaign, as well as GazaVetters (#6 on the list). They urgently, URGENTLY need your donation. 

A reblog -- that's all it really takes. There are campaigns on here with tens of thousands of notes—how do you think they got there? By everyone scrolling past? Complain about morality OCD and compassion burnout all you want. My friend’s family might die tomorrow. Might die right now. In any moment I am not speaking to Ghada, it is possible that she is dead.

So when I ask you to reblog this post, think about the lack of effort it would take to flick your thumb—and realize it could be saving the lives of 14 people, affected by the horrors of war more than you could possibly imagine on your own.

Think about the sound of artillery firing. Even simply guns nearby. There's no "getting used to" that as your constant reality.

Thank you.

@rickybabyboy @valtsv @komsomolka @prisonhannibal @hotvampireadjacent @r0zeclawz @marxism-transgenderism @teaboot  @boobieteriat @chokulit @3000s @ot3 @90-ghost @apas-95 @pitbolshevik  @punkitt-is-here @b0tster @vampiricvenus @ankle-beez @remindertoclick @dyrdeer @tamamita @omegaversereloaded @sawasawako  @feluka  @postanagramgenerator @memingursa  @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense  @spacebeyonce  @dailyquests  @neechees @beserkerjewel @beetledrink @spaghettioverdose @specialmouse @tlirsgender @grox @minmos @paparoach  @slimetony @liberalsarecool @charlott2n @juney-blues @hollowtones @aflo @skunkes @wolfertinger666

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hi

I am Abdulrahman from Gaza. I hope you are well. I need your help. This is a post link that contains a link to donations for special pregnancies in my familyhttps://chuffed.org/project/124804-i-am-abdulrahman-i-live-in-gaza-please-help-meI hope you will donate to save my family. If you are unable to donate, please share the link with your followers. Every donation, no matter how small, makes a big difference t🙏Please donate and share my story with everyone We need your help, no matter how smallo save my family. Thank you very much. I love you

I'll do my best!

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Today I bring to you,,, Blade art....

Reminded me of you so I had to send it to you ofc

I love you.

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why

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I’m in the works of stuff but need motivation 🤪 might post some of my incorrect quotes too

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saw this fanart and immediately ran to write a drabble about it <3

𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 quite understand why people are so deathly afraid of ageing.

of course, when you were that age, you didn't much like the thought of it, either. but it's natural, simply a part of life everyone must endure, and, at the end of the day, there is nothing one can do about it.

perhaps the reason why it doesn't faze you much anymore is because of him. you're both nigh on twenty-five, maybe even thirty, years of blissful matrimony, and you adore the deeper lines to his face, the prominence of his eye bags, the soft greyness to his features, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. he is no less handsome as he was back when you were both in your twenties, young and sprightly.

you've both slowed up quite a bit now. he can't move as fast as he once did anymore. his hip plays up every two weeks, like clockwork. your own back strains easier of late. you think you might have arthritis in your hands. but it's okay, because, as corny as it may sound, it's with him.

his kisses are no less passionate and loving and deep as they were earlier on in your relationship. the vehemence of your love, that ardency, the one that brought you both four children, has eased into the gentler flickering of a quiet flame. it flares every now and then, into something irrepressible and fervid, but now, the joy is more in the tender moments, in the soft kisses on cheeks and foreheads and the crown of your heads—in the holding of hands and the laughter before the kitchen stove. the retelling of stories of your youth, the misunderstandings that were just so exasperating and distressing back then, now so childish and silly and laughable. you laugh now, easily, because you know that neither of you allowed such hiccups to damage your relationship to the point of no return. because of that maturity, because of that true depth of affection, you stand together today, harmonious, tucked into the crook of his neck every night.

that is the part of ageing you like the most. there may be certain things neither of you can eat anymore, because they don't agree with you like they used to, and there may be a few more bottles of supplements in the bathroom cabinet or in your bedside drawers, but it's okay. it hurts to bend over to pick up a dropped tea towel unless you do so slowly, at a certain angle, but he's right there, murmuring a soft inquiry of your well-being afterwards, even though you wince and joke about your age getting to you. he can't be bothered to shave as often as he once did, despite his occasional complaints about the itchiness, so of course you shave him yourself. that usually ends in kisses and wandering hands, but that's the joy in it. he takes just as much pleasure in your body now as he has always done, despite the changes to your figure after the birthing of children and your lamentations at the parts of you you never much liked, only worsened by age. he just says you're nice and soft, warm and cuddly, and won't leave you alone until you agree with him on it. he says your beauty is a timeless beauty. that usually makes you feel better.

he's the same. his chiseled abdominal muscles have been replaced with the chub of a tummy. it's because you keep him well-fed, he says. you love it. it's no less wildly attractive to you now as his younger form was decades ago.

you stare at your wedding photos sometimes, but you don't stare with longing for the way you once looked. no, you stare with nostalgia, fondness, the wish to relive such a day. it's silly, maybe you're going senile, but it doesn't go away. he spots you, comes over, pecks your cheek, and then asks you to marry him. you always play along and gasp an overdramatic, teary yes, and he mimes sliding an engagement ring onto your already-ringed finger. then he puts a vinyl record in, frank sinatra, and you both slow dance before the fireplace, his arms no less firm and strong as they once were, and your smiles no less bright and lovely as they've always been.

the pros of ageing, in your circumstance, outweigh the cons, to you. yes, death will come knocking eventually, but at least it will be a passing without regrets, and a day where he is beside you, or you are beside him. it will be a sad time, but it is inevitable, and you can only live in the present, where he is. you don't worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself, and you sleep easy, every night, with his arms tight around you. just as you did back then, and just as you do now.

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬, NANAMI, 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨, toji, 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚, ZAYNE, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥, 𝐱𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫, neuvillette, WRIOTHESLEY + 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 <3

all rights reserved © kisstrela 2024. do not copy, repost, redistribute, translate, plagiarise or modify my work(s) in any way on any platform. thank you.

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"Help sooad Family Survive & Rebuild in Gaza"

Vetted by gaza-vetters number in the list ✅365✅

Hello, my name sooad Muhammad, I am a 61-year-old mother and former school teacher from Gaza💔

After the army entered the city, we went out to Rafah under the attack of planes and missiles.And the bullets that spare no one, we lived in torn tents that did not protect from the heat, the cold, or the rain. All the words in the world cannot describe what we have lived through. All I want is for you to look at me and my family with a merciful heart and help me.

Before October 7th, I lived a humble life, dedicated to teaching and raising my children. But everything changed. Since that day, my family and I have been living in unimaginable conditions—without electricity, without clean water, without safety.

Our home was destroyed, and we now sleep in a torn tent, exposed to the freezing cold. My children cry from hunger and fear. The markets are empty or unaffordable. Bread is now a luxury—I knead pasta just to make something to fill their stomachs

Please open your heart and stand with us in this time of despair.

We are not asking for much—just a chance to survive. A blanket for the cold. A piece of bread. A roof that does not leak. A moment of peace for my children

I am humbly asking for your help. Your donation, no matter how small, can give us warmth, food, and hope. It can help us survive these dark days and rebuild a life with dignity.

Your support means the world to me and my family.

Please donate 🙏

All the destruction that you see, we live every day a hundred times, and we live hunger, death, and a life that has no taste of life

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he's knelt in front of you, your left foot in one of his large hands, the first aid kit open beside the both of you. you're seated on the sofa in some private, lavishly-furnished sitting room of your host's, and you're quite enjoying the broad-shouldered, silver-haired sight before you.

"you know, darling," he begins, hands gentle as he eases one of your heels off, "if these shoes were giving you so much trouble, you could have just asked for another pair."

"i like them, though," you reply, wincing slightly as he then dabs antiseptic on the angry-red blister. "aren't they gorgeous? i wouldn't dream of passing up such an opportunity as to wear any pair of heels you give me."

sylus lets out a low chuckle as he, with his free hand, reaches for a band aid in the medkit. "well, sweetheart, i'm glad to hear you are fond of my taste in fashion—however, i'm not so fond when such things cause you discomfort."

"beauty comes at such costs, i fear," is your quiet joke of an answer.

"mm. but, do they need to? next time, ask for a pair of flats. any kind you want."

"careful, or i might swipe your card when you're not looking and go splurge on shoes."

scarlet eyes flick up to yours from beneath his brow, his full lips curling at the corners even further. "we have long established that what's mine is yours, sweetheart. i long for the day you send me bankrupt."

you lean back on the heels of your hands and amusedly watch the big bad boss of the greatest crime syndicate around tenderly patch your injured foot up. and the man is so painstakingly proper, too, such a gentleman, even after years of joyous matrimony—you know that any other guy would sneak a peek or two up your skirt, but he hasn't done so once, in all the past fifteen minutes he's been drawing this out and on his haunches before you. your chest grows warm at the thought and sight of him. how did i even score this guy?

"you're too good to me to mistreat like that," you reply, straightening and reaching out a hand, affectionately brushing his right cheek with your thumb. your nails are beautifully manicured and as red as his eyes, courtesy of his credit card, and sylus pauses in his movements to stare up at you again in question. you simply smile softly at him. "look at you, the epitome of a gentleman. best idea i ever had, i'd say—marrying you."

the man gazes at you for a beat longer, before letting out a breath of a laugh. "oh, my. keep that up, my darling, and we won't be leaving this room any time soon."

"you know, for a crime boss, darling, you're not very good at making threats."

sylus's eyes brighten at the challenge, and then he suddenly decides he's finished with your foot and the first aid kit and straightens, pressing one hand into the couch beneath your hip, looming over you, white teeth catching the light through the seam of his smirking lips. "dearest wife, i almost feel betrayed that you have so little faith in the promises i make. then again, i'd say you enjoy it immensely when i follow through with them, no?"

"oh, gosh, how did you know?" you feign innocence and jokingly bat your lashes at him. sylus is pressing in over you, urging you lower into the sofa, and one of your hands rest on his bicep. "it is so terribly frustrating that you manage to guess my every thought."

"it's almost like i've known you for years," is his rumbling quip of an answer, as he draws in closer and presses his nose into your collar. "shall we continue this here or make ourselves scarce?"

your arms come up under his and encircle his waist, resting on the warm, wide expanse of his back. you nuzzle and kiss his jaw, lip gloss marks left in your mouth's wake. "haven't we made ourselves scarce enough?"

reciprocal of your affection, sylus pecks and nibbles at your neck, breathing in your scent, humming approval at the custom-made perfume he gifted you for your birthday a few months ago. the only perfume of that scent that exists, and it's yours, and you're wearing it. "well, i had a stroke of genius to lock the door."

"indeed," you reply, head tilting back on instinct to grant him further access to your throat. "now, i think it's about time you stopped stalling and started kissing me."

"what? is it wrong to take my time and savour my wife?"

"the wife tends to get impatient."

"well, then. your wish is my command."

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🚨 E-BOOK "AUTHOR" IS PLAGIARIZING PILGRIMAGE FICS 🚨

Buckle up, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

Our prolific author, @relicshamecircle (aka EnduringParadox on ao3) has been made aware of an e-book "author" named Layla Moran who has been blatantly plagiarizing her Diarmute fanfics and just changing the names and a few words around. This is absolutely unacceptable. I always like to think of this fandom as a safe haven and an accepting, kind community. But this is disgusting.

These are the three specific works listed on Layla's account that have been plagiarized from EnduringParadox:

This seems to be the work of someone within the fandom, because how else would she have found these fics and read them and decided to pass them as her own? So Layla Moran, if you follow me and you're reading this, you have made Pilgrimage fanfic authors, who are already so few and far between, feel unsafe to post without you getting your greedy hands on them and trying to take advantage of a small fandom for your own profit. Did you think you would never get caught? My advice to you would be to take down the works yourself before this has to get nasty.

To everyone else, I urge you to report and/or leave one-star reviews stating that they're plagiarized from fanfic. Links and proof below the cut:

The summary of The Beauty and His Beast:

Which is CLEARLY An Invitation to Happiness:

Ugh, Everild and Camdyn... what ugly names. But I digress. Here's the link to the GoodReads page if you feel so inclined to leave a one-star review and report.

An excerpt from An Invitation to Happiness, EnduringParadox:

"David hadn’t fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he’d stood for God—that the king’s cause, which he so readily made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword’s blade, his body a hardened knot of scarred skin, his throat ravaged by his own roars of rage and anguish, David knows better. That he had gone to war simply because he had been foolish. Because he’d been a young man but had still looked at war with a boy’s eyes—half a solemn duty, half a game. Something that would be done and done with satisfaction."

An excerpt from The Beauty and His Beast, Layla Moran:

"Everild Reed hadn't fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he'd stood for God--that the king's cause, which he eagerly made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword's blade and burdened with the weight of his choices, his body a hardened knot of muscle and scarred skin, Everild knows better now."

--

The summary of The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband:

Which, obviously, is Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant:

Come ON, even naming Diarmuid's character "Ciarán"???? (And misspelling it Ciarian in the summary??) Here's a link to the GoodReads page. You know what to do.

And THIS ONE she's making money off of. You can buy it for $2.99 on Amazon.

Here's a link to the Amazon page, please report.

An excerpt from Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant, EnduringParadox:

"David had almost joined their company. He’d gone nearly the entire war without being shot and damned if near the end of it all someone hadn’t gotten him right in the leg. The surgeon had told him they needed to take the entire limb. David had grabbed his collar, pulled him close until they were nose-to-nose, and gritted out that he’d break every one of his fingers if he tried it. He kept the leg, earned a limp, and found later, when he was beset by memories and the scent of blood and gunpowder, dizzy, pulse racing, that he’d gotten what they called the soldier’s heart, too."

An excerpt from The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband, Layla Moran:

"Graham had come close to joining the dead himself, narrowing surviving a gunshot wound to the leg near the warn's end. The surgeon wanted to amputate, and Graham, fueled by desperation, had snarled at him through gritted teeth, threatening to break his fingers if he so much as tried. He kept the leg but earn a limp that followed him everywhere, along with something the doctors called 'soldier's heart'--a condition that left him shaking, sleepless, and burdened with memories of blood and gunpowder."

--

And, finally, a summary of The Warrior and The Monk:

Which is just Temu how rich the earth, how bright the stars:

Here's a link to the GoodReads. Rate, report.

An excerpt from how rich the earth, how bright the stars, EnduringParadox:

"One morning, strangers in longships stepped onto the shore. Their arrival was no surprise. Along the sea's coast they drifted, slow, languid, in their monstrously large and narrow vessels with their monstrously large, woven sails dyed in bright, garish colors, a beacon to all that saw them, telling them—as their longships loomed like a pack of wolves stalking their prey—that they were coming."

An excerpt from The Warrior and The Monk, Layla Moran:

"One early morning, strangers in longships silently stepped onto the shore, their presence casting a heavy weight upon the land. Their arrival had been anticipated for days, maybe longer, and was no surprise to those who dwelled in the monastery overlooking the coast. The ships had been visible for miles as they drifted slowly, languidly, along the sea's edge, cutting through the waves like beasts with a purpose. They moved in their long, narrow vessels, which seemed both too large and too lean, with sails woven from thick cloth and dyed in bright, garish colors that stood out against the pale sea and sky. The sails themselves were like beacons, drawing attention,"

--

This is all so blatant and egregious. Shame on Layla. EnduringParadox is a kind and dedicated person writing all of these wonderful stories for our small fandom for FREE and Layla has taken advantage of that. We are small but we are mighty and protective of our own. Let's make Layla regret fucking with Pilgrimage.

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online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.

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Event screen animated!

A huge thank you to Bunnynot for animating this piece! Truly brought my character to life and I cannot thank them enough for doing so :D they do more amazing animations and I encourage you to check them out!

I'm slowly working on more lore dumps for Amphoreus arc for Jien in between exams, so expect some more word vomit posts soon❤️ in the meantime, have this pretty animated screen

(I was gonna put the animated version without the title and logo but Tumblr won't let me💔 rip)

Art by: me

Animated by: bunnynot

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I love your work and I will continue to (affectionately) paparazzi you

Tagging @amee-racle @sstrawbae @meganemiuna-mushrooming for always being my fans <3

 A friend threatened me to repost so I will!

Basically, there r tons of fake asses on tumblr who just want comments and followers, so someone started this to see who's actually a good friend. Everyone I tag better repost (and tag other people and preferably threaten them in a creative way as well) bc I'm high on caffeine and newfound lesbianism and will resort to violence.

@ey-theys-was-coronas

@fangirlhehe

I would tag more people but they're the only ones I've really interacted with-

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Never posting my fanfiction. Call that AO2.

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A hitman who advertises his services the way a commission artist does

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Idgaf if you don't want to write essays for school. I don't care if you don't want to write corporate emails yourself. I don't care if you can't draw well, I don't care if you can't write well, I don't care if you just really really want to talk to your favorite fictional character but don't want to RP with a real person because you have social anxiety or whatever

If you're still regularly using generative ai, chatgpt or midjourney or character.ai or literally whatever the fuck, im personally blaming you when my utility prices start going up.

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If you're using gen AI because "you want to make art but don't know how/can't learn/it's easier/whatever"

You don't want to make art.

You want someone to make art for you, but you don't want to pay or exchange anything of equal value for it, and also you want it right now, in whatever style you fancy that moment, and in whatever quantity you want. You're greedy and entitled and it is just that simple. You don't want to make anything.