when people reblog donation posts and say "donate what you can", I really feel like people aren't actually internalising it. not all of us can afford to donate $50, $100, more than that. but i know for a fact that there are thousands of us that can spare $2 or $5, and that all adds up.
it hurts so much to sit here and feel the limits of our own ability. we're not millionaires. we can't instantly fund these escape attempts. but these are bids for life, by people who never asked for the hellfire being rained upon them by sadistic colonialists, greedy for oil and land. they committed no crime other than being born in palestine. and of course it's unfair, to have to shoulder the weight of people's lives when we're all struggling to get by as it is. but our governments relentlessly fail us, they fail to scrape at the bottom of their cold dead hearts for their last dregs of humanity. it is so, so unfair, but it is up to the common man to save each other.
please. look at this spreadsheet. find a fund that resonates with you. and DONATE WHAT YOU CAN.
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i hate motherfuckers who base their whole personality on the sum experience of their formative years + the people they mostly interact with + some key impactful events in life + a small amount of traits they were just born with + their current interests and some other stuff probably. so fucking annoying...
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There's something so crazy about the fact Buck found his place (amongst the 118) because Tommy left. Like how insane it is that Tommy became the root of Buck's healing, discovering himself and finding his place in the world. He did that once by leaving, and he's doing it again by coming back into the story.
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Idfk how to even caption this one
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the barbie (2023) experience as an afab non binary person is just [reconnecting with your femininity and love for pink bc you couldnt when u were younger bc being too girly will get u made fun of] [feeling guilt bc u dont identify with being a girl but girlhood is so inherently beautiful and magical and no experience is truly like it] [healing the inner child in you by allowing yourself to enjoy dolls and pink and maximalism] [unapologetically letting yourself wear pink and be stereotypically girly in a society where being non binary means you have to be presenting androgynous 24/7] [getting your grown-up heart shattered and then put back together again by your inner child using sparkly glue over and over in the span of two hours] [realizing that no matter what you do you have somewhat experienced girlhood and it shaped you to be the person you are today and you will never get to erase that experience or truly disconnect yourself from it] [appreciating and understanding your mother in a way that you thought wasnt possible without experiecing motherhood]
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something happening on a mission, something personal that has soap spiralling; panic and rage making him reckless, thoughtless, and ghost has to draw the line
“you’re compromised johnny; you know what that means?”
“you’re not pulling me out,” soap immediately snarls. he turns on him and ghost barely recognises him; venomous fear turning his eyes to unyielding ice. "you're not sidelining me; i need to be in this-!"
but ghost has never been afraid of venom; spat or dripped straight from bared fangs.
he snakes out a hand grip the back of his neck, jerking him in a rough shake. "if you can't think, you can't be a soldier," he growls and he flinches like he's been struck.
his lips quiver as they twist in a sneer and he wrenches, trying to free himself of his hold.
ghost doesn't let him.
"it means you give your body to me because your head ain't fucking attached to it anymore."
soap stills, body trembling beneath his hand as he sucks in shaking breaths.
he tightens his grip, pulling him closer and digs his forehead hard into his. “it means you give yourself to me so i can have the weapon that you are and use you the way you're meant to be used."
the ice in soap's eyes fractures.
ghost’s voice drops to a whisper, spoken only to johnny, not this facade of vengeance and pain, and wills it to reach him through the glaciers.
“so i can keep you safe ‘til it’s done and i can bring you back.”
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robert chase one of the characters of all time. hes blonde. he went to seminary school. he purposefully murdered a patient. he’s a vapid slut. allergic to strawberries. was caption of his college bowling team. desperately needs to be on antidepressants. he’s divorced. his ex-wife was/is in love with his dadboss. it’s heavily implied that this is part of why he married her to begin with. he’s been fired multiple times but he keeps coming back like a fucked-up obedient boomerang. he’s the best surgeon in the hospital. all this while having the personality of a sopping wet cardboard box of corn flakes that somebody poured milk into and let mildew.
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‘reader is a named oc’ then they are not a ‘reader’, bestie, they are an oc. there’s nothing wrong with ocs. but please for the love of god stop mistagging them as ‘x reader’.
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*falls into the room looking like i fell out a window into a dumpster*
i made a alastor redesign
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