jazzyoranges

[jazzyoranges]

im here if u need it i love u and get well soon:(<3 life is mean sometimes but sometimes u gotta kick it in teh face too

hehe thank you, mel :) you’re too sweet <33

#jas talks #jas asks #ajortga

[jazzyoranges]

miss uu where r u jass

life’s been life-ing, unfortunately not in a good way 😓 but i promise i’m still here and alive!! thanks for checking on me, mel <3 appreciate it

#jas asks #jas talks #ajortga

[jazzyoranges]

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💌

hi, dally! you’re too nice, yk? <3

@fortythree-or-43 @alkivm @wesstars @randomshyperson @evilwednesday @void-wolfie @ajortga @nouvxllev @jjsmaybank20 @deep-fried-egg @celiastjamesoscar @the-oblivious-writer (and you ofc)

#jas asks #the-oblivious-writer

[jazzyoranges]

how specific do u prefer requests ? i was wondering if you would consider writing a valentines tara fic ?

i love specific requests but not too specific. i enjoy the wiggle room to do what i want

if you want an example, i like this and this request for that exact reason

#jas asks

[jazzyoranges]

Good morning. This might be my last message from the city of Rafah. The occupation [Israel] is carrying out crazy fire. Violent belts. As you’re hearing, there are helicopters. Planes and gunfire from the vehicles. There’s a complete invasion of the city.

We don’t know what is going on in Rafah. The place that the occupation [Israel] claimed to be safe. This is happening all of a sudden; the people didn’t go out. They didn’t do anything. More than thirty targets were hit in just minutes. People were asleep. We woke up to the bombing, to the shooting from the helicopters. It was horrifying. Unacceptable. This might be my last message. Please relay it to the world.

— Hazem, journalist residing in Rafah; 02.11.2024

Rafah was Palestinians’ very last safe zone. There is quite literally nowhere else left to go. And now it’s being bombed with airstrike after airstrike.

[jazzyoranges]

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.

I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.

I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.

I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.

I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.

[jazzyoranges]

Being from Gaza, Palestine is so different.

I tell people I'm from Gaza and I get pity, I get the "oh... do you have family there?" and I have to act tough, I am tough, it runs in my veins. Being from Gaza is expecting that reaction, the sorrow, it's dealing with dumbass people everyday, it's getting the "can you go there?" question. (No i cant btw).

I am from Gaza, I feel emotions just like everyone else, I feel anger and hurt and longing for a place I cant visit, I feel love and comfort and right now I feel alone and like im yelling at the world to pay attention and NO ONE CARES.

I am from Gaza, my thoughts belong to Gaza, my heart, my skin color, the way I speak, the way I say words a bit differently than the rest of the Palestinians, the way I wish I was a filmmaker to share my culture with the world.

I am from Gaza, i am aware of how different my people are, i am aware that i grew up differently, I am aware I grew up looking at the news from my grandparents television with my aunt waiting for news about her family, I am aware that I have trauma in my veins, I am aware that my culture is taken over and that I can't really speak about it, I am aware that not everyone experiences your aunt screaming that her brother died and yelling "He's apart of my soul, my soul died"

I am from Gaza, I hurt, I feel, I love, I care and my heart, soul and mind all belong to my beautiful land and its people.

[jazzyoranges]

melissa barrera (the actress who got fired from the scream franchise for being pro palestine) has started a fundraiser with unrwa!

[jazzyoranges]

Oh my gosh

This is pure evil. They say 12 employees participated in Oct 7th so they have to stop feeding the entire population????

[jazzyoranges]

Here's another family trying to evacuate to Egypt. Donate if you can. Share widely

[jazzyoranges]

noticed a dip in posts about palestine on my dash, so i think it deserves to be said again: palestine is not a trend. caring about genocide is not a trend. there are still reports about humanitarian aid trucks intentionally blocked off from gaza, meaning so many fucking gazans, a big portion of them children, are just bleeding out with no help. it just came out recently that israelis disguised as women and medics infiltrated a west bank hospital, at which point they killed 3 palestinians (whom they claim were militants. right). these people are living day to day without even the most basic utilities. anyone who claims to have “activism fatigue” needs to question why they’re so severely lacking in the most basic forms of compassion. you don’t get to just grow bored of talking about palestine. please never stop calling attention to the genocide happening full force in front of us.

[jazzyoranges]

language is really telling. palestinians die vaguely, but israeli’s are specifically killed. palestinian little girls are called young women, but israeli little girls get to be called the children that they are. pay attention to the words being used. you might not even notice it’s propaganda you’re reading.

[jazzyoranges]

Remember the 6 year old girl who was surrounded by Israeli tanks and the red crescent couldn't reach her? Her name is Hind Hamadeh. Here you can hear the phone call her 15 year old sister, Layan Hamadeh, made with the medics. She was killed exactly a moment later including all people in the car, except for 6 year old Hind who was stuck in the car with the dead bodies of her family, Israeli tanks and IDF surrounding her, shooting, preventing anybody to reach her.

That was last night (29.1.24). Today, still nothing. The fate of Hind remains unknown.

palestine red crescent ambulance team went to rescue her yesterday evening, but they have not returned as of now. We lost contact with them about 18 hours ago, and we still remain unaware of their fate and whether they succeeded in evacuating her or not.

Please, share Hind's story as much as you can on any platform. We need to know what happened to her. Put yourself in her place, how terrified she must be. Don't scroll past this.

This is Hind.

[jazzyoranges]

Yesterday, Palestinian and solidarity organizers disrupted a Biden campaign event 14 times during his speech on the protection of women's rights. These activists called out hypocrisy because Biden and his administration are actively causing a reproductive care catastrophe in Gaza.

50,000 pregnant women do not have access to healthcare in Gaza, and C-sections are being performed without anesthesia. Women and children in Gaza are being killed by U.S.-made and supplied bombs.

described by @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts

[ID: Transcription of what the protesters are saying, while security personnel try to get them out:

Israel kills two mothers every hour in Gaza. Ceasefire now! End the genocide! Ceasefire!

Women in Gaza are being murdered. Killing people in Gaza is a war crime. You are a war criminal.

Stop funding genocide! Ceasefire now!

50,000 pregnant women don't have healthcare. Their blood is on your hands. Ceasefire!

Ceasefire now! Stop funding genocide! Gaza is a reproductive issue.

Free, free Palestine!

The end of the video shows article headlines with photos of the protesters or of Joe Biden, from various news organizations:

POLITICO: Biden's abortion rights rally repeatedly interrupted by protesters

ALJAZEERA: Biden speech interrupted by pro-Palestinian protesters

CNN politics: Biden's abortion rights rally in Virginia beset by repeated protests over his handling of Gaza

abcNEWS: Biden campaign speech on abortion rights disrupted 14 times by protesters

yahoo!news: Biden abortion rally in Virginia interrupted by multiple protesters: 'Genocide Joe'

NEW YORK POST: Biden claims Gaza heckler is 'MAGA Republican' as he's interrupted at least 10 times at rally

Forbes: Protesters Interrupt Biden's Abortion Rights Speech More Than A Dozen Times

NBC NEWS: Biden interrupted by protesters more than a dozen times at campaign rally

USA TODAY: President Biden's abortion rally disrupted by repeated protests over Gaza

Reuters: Biden's abortion rights rally in Virginia interrupted by Gaza protests

/End ID]

[jazzyoranges]

guys i actually beg of you to not let palestine become an unpleasant flashback, a transient tumblr trend, a hasbeen subject that just faded away. as an arab—and specifically iraqi—girl, i know what it feels like to have family displaced all over the world as a result of western imperialism. i know what it feels like to not be able to step foot into your homeland because it’s no longer safe. as an american iraqi, raised in the us and insulated from my roots, it wasn’t until last summer that i was able to visit iraq for the first time, and even then my family was worried for my safety—in my own blood country. although nothing like what palestinians are experiencing right now, it might be the tiniest semblance of what it feels like to watch your country disintegrate in front of you.

and this is a universal arab experience. i volunteer weekly at a refugee center that serves middle eastern refugees, and every day i see the longing in their eyes when they speak of where they hail from. it’s safe to say that we will be getting a wave of palestinian refugees very soon: just another generation of arabs who can’t inhabit their own country.

arab culture is so rich, so profound, so beautiful. i am tired of being told by the world—through literal genocide—that it doesn’t mean anything. please never let this be forgotten. free palestine. free palestine. free palestine.

[jazzyoranges]

Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something else that isn’t comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

[jazzyoranges]

we’ll miss you, Bing! take care and thank you so much <3

announcement

hello, my little bings.

the time has come for me to make this announcement. i've been avoiding actually writing this, but it's time to give y'all an explanation.

i've been mulling over this idea for weeks now, and i've since made the decision to retire (why do i sound like an old man?). i know i've said time and time again that i would be back to posting regularly, because i truly believed i would be, but i've honestly lost all motivation in regards to writing fics. what once used to be fun for me has turned into something i barely look at, and i do mourn that fact.

i'm sorry to my scholars who were looking forward to part 10 of the shakespeare exhibit, but if we're being honest, that fic is so fluffy there never would have been a set end. i feel happy with leaving it where it stands now as an ending.

this blog will still be up. it'll probably always be up. i want you guys to still be able to have a space to indulge, and i couldn't imagine taking this away from you.

i really am sorry about this. i am so appreciative for all the love i've garnered and the fanbase that has formed around me. i love each and every one of you.

thank you for being around while i was, and for being around after i stop posting.

all my love forever,

bing.