50% of all revenue for my store, starting now, will be donated to CareforGaza and the PCRF.
[ PURCHASE MY ANTHOLOGIES HERE ]
hi there! i'm lindi. you may have seen some of my comics floating around in the past year or so.
if you’ve ever liked my stories and wanted to purchase a copy of one of my anthologies, I invite you to do so now. This policy will be in place indefinitely, and the list of charities/organisations may be subject to change depending on their effectiveness. Currently, the focus is on providing aid and food to the innocent Palestinians in Gaza, but in the future I hope to increase the scope to tangibly support the queer community and help fund independent artists in Australia.
below, I'll list a few resources for people who'd like to directly donate at the source:
credible organisations that are doing work on the ground in Palestine:
Care for Gaza:non-profit charity that distributes money, food and other resources directly to families in Gaza.They maintain a regular presence on Twitter and Instagram. You can donate to them via Paypal here.
PCRF / Palestine Children's Relief Fund: non-profit organisation that distributes essential food and resources to families in Gaza. Most recently, they delivered 30 tons of vital medicine, and 82,000 pounds of flour.
Medical Aid For Palestinians: deploys medical teams to treat Palestinians suffering under Israel's malicious bombardments.
help people leave palestine (donate what you can)
Save Sanaa and her Family (Gofundme)
Save Amjad Saher and his family (Gofundme)
Help a family of 13 escape Gaza (Gofundme)
Help a Palestinian children's book illustrator save her family of 12 (Gofundme)
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stop fucking say prev tags you annoying tiktoking fucking dumb cunt. fuck off.
this is. this is incredible. 11 years i've been on this site. 11 years i've spent painstakingly dodging any kind of fandom whump, controversial take, or ill-advised hill to die upon. do you have any idea the amounts of nuclear fallout i have delicately skirted around. the blogs i've seen deactivate, the sprawling call-outs written in google docs. i was raised in the bitter heart of this website and made a garden of it. and the thing that finally gets me cyber-bullied by teens is prev tags
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the number of times i will go back into a fic to add or remove one single word or maybe move it to somewhere else in the same sentence can’t be healthy. i’m tormented by a mildly popular text post of mine going around that i am sure could be funnier with one fewer syllable, which i also added and removed 3 times in the drafts before posting. it’s not compulsive, it’s genuinely not harming me or preventing me from sharing my work, it’s just like somewhere in the intersection between perfectionism and an inability to let go i’m there ten days after posting wondering if an exclamation point instead of a period would meaningfully alter a reader’s experience, like a philosopher spending six years contemplating the nature of existence through a single grain of sand and okay, i started this post to make fun of myself but i just remembered that my linguistics tag is “language is my one true love” and writing is more like gardening than a race. something can be done when it’s done because there’s a print deadline or a hard frost or you have to put down the shears and see about the rest of your life, but in all other cases it’s just endless potential for noodling around in the dirt until you don’t feel like it anymore. there has never in history been a home garden in growing season where everything is done. i like to pet tomato leaves and maybe clicking “edit” on an old fic when i reread it to change three words and then change them right back is like that. i’m posting this one with no more fuss because i’m going inside to make tea.
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I Think Not
Bruce sat at his desk, head in his hands, fingers rubbing at his temples. It did nothing to soothe his headache as the fire lizards continued to whirl and pivot in the air in leftward circles, chirping and chattering at each other and Bruce.
Alfred stood in the doorway, eyebrow loudly raised, despite the elder man’s silence. Bruce ignored the judgment radiating from his direction.
“Father, I-” Damian burst into the room, neatly stepping past Alfred before stopping just past him, eyeing the fire lizards.
Bruce felt his headache spike.
“Father,” he says again, this time with anger and fire in his voice, “who is threatening you so?”
The harnesses of the fire lizards catch the light, highlighting the flowers embroidered on every strap and, if that wasn’t enough, the icons of the flowers on the connecting parts of the harness.
“There is no threat, Damian,” Bruce let out another sigh as he dug his fingers harder into his skull.
Damian pointed harshly at the fire lizards chittering away in the air above him. “Yellow Carnation. Spider Lily. Butterfly Weed. Basil. Aconite.” His finger moved to point at Bruce. “Someone is angry at you and willing to kill you by any means necessary. Something needs to be done. ”
“Damian-”
“Bruce!” Tim barreled into the room, looking harried. “Bruce, where’s my coffee! I’ve got a meeting and I spent all night working on it and I need coffee or I’m going to pass out in the middle and they won’t take me seriously! Why are there so many fire lizards in flower harnesses oh my god who did you sleep with?!”
Bruce covered his eyes and tangled his fingers in his hair, despairing.
“You imbecile!” Damian shrieked. “Do you know anything about flower language?!”
“Bruce!” Dick hit the doorway and launched himself over the bottleneck of the doorway, rolling over the floor and popping to his feet in front of the desk Bruce was sitting behind like the flimsy shield it was. “Bruce, is Jason coming?”
Bruce dug the heels of his hands into his eyes briefly, before removing them to address his boys, his precious children, the source of his headaches.
“Boys!” he shouted to get their attention over the squabbling. They all looked at him and he pointed at the fire lizards. “Those are Jason’s Damian. He isn’t coming Dick. I don’t know anything about your coffee Tim.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed as he took in the fire lizards’ harnesses again. Then he pulled a token out of his pocket and held it to Bruce. “Is this his?” he asked. The token was of a poppy, colored white.
Bruce raised an eyebrow and nodded.
After a moment of silence, Tim’s screech caused the fire lizards to go between.
“Jason stole my coffee!”
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