#<- likely thing for the ghost blog to write.

[hashemsamar]

Displacement Diaries [3]:

🚨 The Tent Amidst War and Hardships!!

In the midst of ongoing war, tents have become a refuge for many families who have lost their homes due to bombing and destruction. These families live in harsh conditions that offer little protection from the weather, lacking basic necessities like water and electricity. The tent, although a symbol of resilience and challenge, also reflects the state of humanitarian collapse we are experiencing.

As for us in particular, we have undergone five displacements, and with each move, we hope it will be the last. Living in a tent is not easy, especially with a large family that includes children and the elderly. We strive to adapt, but the biting cold at night and the extreme heat during the day make life inside the tent a continuous challenge. With winter approaching, our fears grow as rain and winds become an additional source of suffering. The tents do not provide adequate protection from the harsh cold or water seepage, making living conditions even more difficult.

Amid rising prices, basic necessities like food and medicine have become scarce and nearly impossible to obtain. Humanitarian aid is dwindling, and prices are skyrocketing, putting us in a difficult position as we seek new ways to secure the bare minimum for survival. Even simple daily needs have become a burden for us, and with the arrival of winter, we require additional items like warm clothing, blankets, and heating devices that have become a distant dream.

Urgent Needs for My Small and Large Family:

1. Tents and Shader: We need to secure 2 tents and Shader to protect our family from the rain, as the current situation threatens our safety due to the drop in temperatures and heavy rainfall.

2. Blankets and Clothing: We require sufficient blankets to keep our family warm, in addition to suitable clothing and footwear to face the harsh weather conditions.

3. Total Amount Needed:The total cost for these urgent needs is estimated at $6000.

Current Danger: The lack of these essentials over the next week puts our family at significant risk, especially given the current conditions we are facing, which could lead to our drowning due to the rain and rising sea levels.

Dear friends who support Palestine, please participate and write about.

@appsa @buttercuparry @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @thenewinquiry @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygold @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani123-blog @90-ghost @illuminated-runas @dlxxv-vetted-donations.

[thepenultimateword]

Hello everyone! As October approaches, I've been hearing a lot about the very popular Whumptober. However, since I'm not much of a whump writer, I decided to go ahead and make my own Flufftober challenge!

For those who don't already know, this challenge involves following a prompt for each day in October. I am writing blog, so I'll be writing, but feel free to follow these prompts in the medium of your choice! Also, you can participate as much or as little as you like. Technically, the challenge is for the entire month, but if there's a day you're not vibing with the prompt or you just don't have time, don't stress. This is purely for fun.

If you're not one for pure fluff, flangst (fluff/angst) is also perfectly acceptable.

Let me know if you have any questions! I hope you enjoy!

P.S. I'd love to see what you all come up with! So if you so choose to share, tag me in your posts or use the tag #flufftober2024 (however others creators have also made their own flufftobrs, so things will get mixed up a bit)

Flufftober 2024 Prompts

Day 1: Rainstorm

Day 2: Fireplace

Day 3: Sweater Day

4: Apple Cider

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Day 6: Cuddles

Day 7: Protective

Day 8: Secret Relationship

Day 9: Sickfic

Day 10: Pumpkin Patch

Day 11: Hugs and Kisses

Day 12: Blankets

Day 13: Harvest Festival

Day 14 Coffee Shop

Day 15: Ghost

Day 16: Sweet Treat

Day 17: Breakfast

Day 18: Nostalgia

Day 19: Scary Movie

Day 20: Reunion

Day 21: Sleepy

Day 22: Whisper

Day 23: Finally Safe

Day 24: Confession

Day 25: Holding Hands

Day 26: Monster

Day 27: Cleaning up

Day 28: Embarrassed

Day 29: Leaf Fight

Day 30: Roadtrip

Day 31: Found Family

[canisalbus]

is there a reason you usually answer asks with a . and talk in the tags? i got confused when i first saw that bc usually when people do that its a 'presented without commentary' thing but you do have commentary haha it feels like you're answering just in whispers like a ghost

.

[g1ngerbeer]

do you think they noticed a change, the first few loops. i think they did. because how could they not, cheng xiaoshi and qiao ling, the two closest friends lu guang has, seeing him walk out of the room through a camera shutter and re-enter changed. diminished, faded, sad, the worn and cracking face of an old photograph. more and more tired each time he dives, further and further back with each attempt. every time a failure. and even as he lets the tides of time weather him more - render him a ghost, it feels like sometimes - even as lu guang changes more and more from the person he used to be, so too does that moment of disconnect in his friends’ eyes shorten and fade. because they don’t know him anymore. the golden stretch of time he spends by their sides before it all goes wrong is sliced thinner and thinner with every photo he uses, his touch blurring the memory with blood. each time he fails they know him less - the first him, the one unburdened by the terrible knowledge he now holds and the weight of too many failures.

soon they will never have known him at all.

Because you would notice if your best friend time travelled from a horrible future, but not if he travelled back so far he erased the person he once was (the person you knew) (the person you loved, first. before you loved this newer-older transparent version, never knowing a difference.)

(and this too is a loss to be grieved, he thinks sometimes in the dead of night to the sound of soft breathing in the bunk below, selfishly. but it is worth it if cheng xiaoshi lives.)

(the death of everything lu guang ever was is worth it if it means cheng xiaoshi lives.)

[cerise-on-top]

This is a vent piece. My psychosis got far worse again today, and my anxiety has been peaking each day for the past two weeks now. Pretty sure no one's going to read this, but I don't care. I wrote this with Price in mind, but this could be about anyone.

TW: graphic metaphors of violence, reader is psychotic and going through an episode, I think

What a beautiful day it was. The sun, at its zenith, brought a pleasant temperature with it. Any creature, capable of feeling both pleasure and warmth, would yearn for a nap underneath its rays. The sky, such a radiant blue, glorious in its pulchritude, made for the ideal day to go outside. Wherever one were to look, a human and its companions were close by, smiling at each other, cracking jokes. Some were enjoying lovely meals, others were indulging in sports. But many agreed, such a day had to be lived. Stormy clouds would come soon enough as they were, bringing an end to this reign of cheer. However, such thoughts couldn’t have been further away from the masses.

So, why were you stuck at home, bearing the curse of a headache no one had ever understood? This echo of a pain, it had only ever brought you suffering. Gripping your hair in your hands, you fought a war with yourself to not bash your head against the wall. The urge, ever so strong, was taking a hold of you, but you dared not let it win, for the consequences were dire enough to scare you into dominance over your mental illness. It was an unbearable pain, unlike anything you could ever have experienced normally. And yet, you’ve been living like this for the past few years now. It brought you to your knees as your breathing was uneven. Sharp breaths, deep breaths, were you even breathing at all? Even the voice in your head was concerned, trying to soothe you. Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Why couldn’t you have been normal?

Promises of aid in your darkest times came to mind, but the fear of burdening your loved ones broke each and every one of them. You wanted to swing your head violently around, making sure to break your skull, the splinters in your brain drowning out the pain that currently was. You couldn’t make it through this alone, but you had to. You were scared, alone, but you were a warrior, fighting for survival. If anyone ever knew how much agony you were in, they’d point and laugh at you. Your breathing sped up as you lowered your head to the floor. The cold wood did nothing to alleviate the torture you went through. You wanted to bite away at your own skin, gnawing at your bones so the physical pain would overshadow the mental one. You clutched your head, horrid images of flesh and bone crossing your mind. What did you do? And why did you deserve this? Picking at your skin, cutting away the flesh to reveal what’s inside, tearing open your body. You didn’t want this.

But somehow, a hand was placed on your back. As warm as the sun, as meaningful as the first nice day after a storm. You didn’t dare to look up. You’ve messed up. Someone saw you in your vulnerable state, here to take no mercy on you, who suffered through the layers of hell in this ordinary world. The hand burned through your skin, ridiculing you, but you craved it.

“Love, what’s wrong? Please look at me.”

You were shaking, your stomach churning as you tasted iron in your mouth. You were not long for this world, but you had to endure.

“It hurts so bad. I’m sorry.”

The hand on your back started to move, frantically so as it attempted to soothe you. The warmth spread, but your pain has been noted by someone else. You couldn’t move. But still, as humiliating as being perceived was, you focused on the hand.

“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The voice in your head made it all up. It was so loud, almost drowning out any other sound. You needed him to speak. He needed to continue, he needed to distract you.

“I’m sorry.”

Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to another source of warmth. His heart was beating, he was breathing, he was a beacon of comfort.

A body you loved, so close to you. His scent was almost overwhelming, but it was proof he was alive. You were alive, you believed, taking it in.

“Please, continue talking. I don’t care about what.”

And so, he betrayed your one request, staying silent. Perhaps it was your fault, perhaps it showed a weakness within him that only you could bring forth. And yet, his mere presence brought to light a strength you forgot about within yourself. As you no longer held onto your head as though it was torn at the seams, you instead sought him out. Finding solace within a gentle embrace, you took a deep breath as you buried your face in his shoulder. He was a soldier, one much better fitted for the cruelty this world brought about. He only knew how to kill, his only home was within the damned souls he sent to hell. But within his gentle grasp, you focused solely on him. Begging for comfort, like a child starved of its parent’s attention.

The knife of unreality twisted in your guts, slitting your throat, leaving you unable to speak. You were dependent on him in that moment. It was him, who needed to stitch you back together, make sure you could regard yourself as anything but a human failure. If you could even consider yourself a human in the first place.

But he was oh so meticulous in taking each bloody piece, infusing it with new life before merging it into an empty hull of a body. And as he’d build his own poisoned paradise, he inhaled the fumes and saw a glimpse of a future he still desired. What you had always seen as his certain demise, he saw a dream more pleasant than the heavens themself. Exhaling into your seemingly lifeless body, he shared his very essence with you. Even when you unwillingly knock on death’s door, he would still protect you from the grief of losing yourself, tearing you away from the pain of the unknown.

The sun, at its zenith, had nothing to say to you. It gave you an environment to live in, but no reason to stay in it. Only this one man, broken from war, found it within himself to show you the joy of being. His pieces had been scattered, but he still shared what little was left of him with you, building a secure fort around your being.

And from within the view of a safe home, you could even gaze at the stars, relishing in the cold. You had a different kind of warmth to return to.

[motherforthefamicom]

redownloaded an old art program

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[superfluouskeys]

wip wednesday! (it is thursday)

Thank you so much @thevikingwoman for the tag!! As is becoming custom I am here to drop some nonsense from before school beat me with a stick. Idk how close ghost of you part 3 is to being done because I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up having a part 4 LOL, but here is the beginning!

I'm not gonna tag anyone rn bc I lack the brain capacity but pls feel free to share and pretend I tagged you! It's wip wednesday-thursday ♥

--

Moiraine always had a knack for compartmentalizing.  She never thought much about it, really, it was just the way her mind worked.  She was like her father, who could love his family one day and very nearly forget they existed the next, because he was so involved in his latest project that he had simply…tucked them safely away somewhere, to be loved properly at a more convenient time.

Anvaere’s mind does not work the same way, and nor did their mother’s.  For them, Father’s occasional abandonment seeped into everything around it, the proverbial fruit of the poisonous tree.  By their estimation, he did not get to love them one day and leave them the next, and in retrospect, Moiraine supposes she can understand that.

In practice it was rather miserable, though.  Anvaere moped, while their mother made a hobby of building resentment.

Moiraine considers in passing that she’s doing a rather magnificent job of encompassing both of her family’s tried and true traditions in her misery, hiding herself away most of the time, but still managing to make the whole place intolerable when she is present.

It would be much easier, she thinks, if Lan would just leave her alone.  Neither Verrin nor Adeleas has any desire for Moiraine’s company—and rightly so.  They are perfectly happy to aid their sister in her time of need without demanding the wretched details.  One doesn’t hear much about women being stilled, but then again, one doesn’t need to.  The mention alone is chilling.  They understand even without any comparable experience.

But Lan keeps on knocking at her door, keeps inviting her to meals, inviting her on walks, inviting her to do anything, anything at all, anything she wants, and she doesn’t know how to tell him that there is nothing she wants anymore, and there never can be.

She tells herself it is something of a relief to be free of the notion that she might set herself right again.  It would have been a colossal waste of time.  Better to be done with it now and move onto what is important.  After all, she herself hardly matters.  She let Rand go because she’d thought the matter was done with, but she realized quickly that it wasn’t, and now she needs to ascertain what will come next.

It’s something to occupy her mind, but there’s no joy in chasing down the mystery.  Her days are filled with dead ends and tiresome visitors who overplay their hands.  They misjudge Moiraine because the way to determine how much leverage one holds is to guess what the other person wants, what the other person cares for, and they do not understand that Moiraine wants nothing and cares for nothing.

In all their years traveling together, Lan has never once snapped at her like that.  There was a time when it would have brought her a sick sort of delight.  She used to try all the time to get a rise out of him, to make him lash out at her so she could feel justified cutting him off.  She’d never had someone so steady in her life, and it confused and frightened her.

His outburst reaches her, in a way.  She realizes she can’t go on like this hoping he’ll eventually stop trying.  She resolves to leave under cover of night, hoping at least that he is angry enough with her not to notice her missing right away.

She hadn’t counted on three Fades.  One, perhaps, if she were very unlucky.  But Moiraine herself is not particularly important, and certainly not at the moment.  She led the Dragon to the Eye of the World, yes, but it’s not as though the Dark didn’t get something out of that.  By all accounts she should be less than nothing now.  An Aes Sedai who cannot channel?  Who has no Warder, no family, no friends left to look out for her?

With a terrible lurching sensation, suddenly Moiraine is in two places at once.  She is here and not here, lying on the ground outside Verrin’s estate and back at the Eye of the World, and somehow, Lan has found her yet again.  He finds her without the bond, without magic, without anything to guide him.  Moiraine feels more than she’s felt in months.  She feels angry, and relieved, and devastated.  He can’t be here.  They cannot keep doing this.

If Moiraine is still a target, then she has to get Lan away from her.  She can’t keep him safe like this, and he’ll die trying to protect her because it’s what he’s sworn to do.  She doesn’t know what she’s been doing up until now, hoping he’d tire of her coldness and drift away on his own.  It was selfish of her.  She didn’t want to strike the killing blow, make him really hate her, make the split impossible to reconcile.

But what would be really, unforgivably selfish would be to keep him around when she knows it will get him killed.  It would be a senseless death, defending something that’s no longer worth the price.

Necessity doesn’t make the burden any easier to bear.

[fobnsfwdoodles]

Crying about Fourth Of July today and Pete and loving your straight best friend and loving someone in the closet and your art always being more transparent than you are and being overly affectionate with someone you adore and then keeping your distance as you grow up learning to keep your hands to yourself learning to not talk about it learning to say any queer behavior is a joke or a bit or a show and writing intricate love letters that your friend then sings for thousands of people and when your friend says that they're also torn up about whatever happened on the fourth of July you say they're lying because you know whatever is between you is so one sided

Horny posting will continue tomorrow

[obessivedork]

I got so caught up in the euphoria of new Star Trek that I forgot SNW has some of my least favourite writing of the new shows. I think I’m frustrated with it because there are so many aspects I SHOULD like! On paper I SHOULD like this show more than I do! I just do not vibe! :(

[hannahchronism]

do you think the people making "tumblr is going to poison the AIs lolol" just. don't know about the decade+ many hundreds of old writing blogs that were writing genuine short fiction and no longer have the ability to login / even know that this is happening to toggle the thing on their old blogs and so are about to have their words scraped in what will be a hugely valuable Get for programs that are actively trying to supplant creative pursuits through parsing the works of every creative they can find, good and bad, or

[kkpwnall]

steddie + 16 or 20 (or both in one if you feel so inclined) for the spooky szn fic prompts!!

so it's been well over a month and idk if you remember sending this, but thank you so so much!! i had a lot of fun writing this!! the prompts were mysterious library and violent thunderstorm. i was super inspired by your stranger things + buzzfeed unsolved incorrect text post (still one of my favorites btw) and our convos about who would be the skeptic vs the believer, and it just snowballed from there.

i hope you like it!!

[mrsgiovanna]

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[gxlden-angels]

the only person who was actually right about the world and human nature was Max striner everyone else is a fucking moron

Striner? I hardly know 'er!

Anyways, I'm not a philosophy expert. I'm just some guy. I like the egoist belief that there isn't a universal moral truth. I like the absurdist belief that, because nothing matters, we should be radically sincere. I like the christian belief in a place without suffering after this life. I like the Universal Random Number Generator idea my therapist and I talk about

All of them have their flaws though. Egoism gets used to condemn social movements and civil rights advocacy. Absurdism and the RNG can create a sense of existential dread and a loss of motivation. Christianity encourages the loss of identity and free will

I'm just some psych student with a weird ass therapist that understands my weird ass brain. He encouraged me to look into absurdism since I took a class on absurdist literature my freshman year of college and he said I might enjoy looking into the actual philosophy. And I do! At least a lot of it! I like the idea of a chaotic universe and us humans trying our best to control it. I like the idea of letting that go and living authentically instead of with a direct purpose. There's chaos and mayhem and entropy and I'm just here to react to it. And I can react in ways that makes others happier if I wanted just because I can

Egoism/egotism feels too disconnected from the human need to connect to me. It traps me into that feeling that doing something good for someone is selfish if you're doing it to feel good. I'm actively working to get out of that spiral Christianity put me in now

I don't know, though, anon. I'm just some college student with an ex-christian tumblr blog and a lot of trauma. I like to believe there's some Universe-sized Abstract Computer with a random number generator that causes the chaos we call home. I skim wiki pages and reddit posts and decided if I want to engage any further/look for textbooks. I could possibly be looking at the wrong page about the wrong philosophy. I'm honestly just on this earthly plane for the bit

[the-nsr-family]

mmmmm maybe I will come back for real this time.

I lowkey want to like. write a fanfic. issue is I’m already running one for SU and I’d never forgive myself if I abandoned my readers in the middle of such an intense moment.

[imnotleavinherewithoutyou]

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