HOW TO DONATE TO BLM WHEN YOU HAVE NO MONEY

Avião sem asa, fogueira sem brasa, é o Ace, assim sem o Deuce~ 🎶

At the end of the day, my favorite Twist ship is Adeuce. They feel incomplete without the other (even more than, like, Leona and Ruggie or Vil and Rook). They're a unit. They're two halves of the same idiot. They're the Klance and the Kagehina.

Do not separate them

Also, I'm particularly fond of smitten Ace and oblivious Deuce. How funny is that? Ace smirking like he's the King of the Playground and then Deuce pouts a bit cuz the math question is hard and Ace just wants to slam his head on the nearest wall because why is this dumbass so fucking pretty? Stop it, it's making Ace want to kiss his stupid pout. He's better than this, this is just a stupid crush that will leave soon enough (it won't), get your shit together, Trappola

Or, like, he sees Deuce punch/fight someone and he's screaming "HOT HOT HOT" inside his head on loop. Or Deuce smiles all happy and bright cuz his grades went up and he thanks Ace for helping him study and Ace really just wants to hold him

But on the outside, he's still snarky and sassy and teases Deuce relentlessly. Definitely the guy who annoys who he likes. No one buys it when he says he'd never date Deuce.

“genocides can’t be compared because each one is unique” as if literally anyone on planet earth making comparisons between genocides isn’t aware that history is more complicated than a set of infinitely repeating identical events. how fucking condescending can you get. the word genocide is a legal term that is meant to standardise our ability to identify a broad set of violent actions and behaviours as genocide even when they differ in the details, because the outcome is the same - a crime against humanity. if no genocide is comparable then genocide does not exist as a category of crime. to deny the comparability of genocides is tantamount to genocide denial

Shayma and her family needs help relocating to safety outside of gaza. She’s only 25 and holding together two of her passed sister’s children who are mentally drained after the passing of their mother and their other sister.

If possible please donate to her GoFundMe and share, she’s the sweetest girl and deserves the world. Her Twitter is @dpechesmode.

gofundme.com

Help a Gazan family to relocate to safety, organized by Fardowsa Mohamed

Hello my name is Fardowsa and I am raising funds on behalf of my dear fri… Fardowsa Mohamed needs your support for Help a Gazan family to

raise a glass to the posts you love that end up deleted. to the fanart and fanfics you lose track of and can’t locate. to the blogs you used to look through that ended up unexpectedly disappearing. to the things you didn’t archive because you always assumed they’d be there.

I know we are all like "people in caveman times would drill holes in their head to relieve headaches" andwe go oh that's so stupid that's so dumb but like. then I get a headache and I'm like.ooooh I get it I get it. Grug prepare the drill.

Harvey smut

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.

Give him a flash grenade?

(Im studying a lot and I dont have much time to draw so take this sketch)

O vil aguenta tranquilo

Yuu ensinando os meninos a sambar, e eles acham fácil depois que pegam o básico. Aí ela vira e fala "muito bem, agora com o salto e rápido" e pega um daqueles saltos fino-plataforma que as moças usam nos desfiles de escola de samba.