Senators Are Going To Vote On Whether Or Not We Should Continue To Send Aid To Israel On Wednesday, November

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #373 )✅️

I hope you'll let me tell you a little bit about my home🇵🇸, Gaza🍉. It's a place where we're living through some very challenging times💔🥹. We're under attack from bombs, explosives, and warplanes, and we've had to endure many nights of sleeplessness. It's a difficult situation💔, but we're trying to stay positive🖤. This war has really taken a toll on us. It's destroyed our bodies, our lives, and our souls. It has been so sad to see our homes destroyed, our belongings taken from us, and our beautiful places ruined. It has also changed our situation for the worse. We were living a pretty good life, you know? Peaceful, loving, and full of life. But then, we found ourselves in a really tough spot. Hunger, fear, and terror have become our new normal. My kids and I, along with my extended family, are struggling to make ends meet. We don't have the basic necessities of life, and our living situation is pretty rough. We're in these old, falling-apart tents. It's so hard to know what to do when winter comes. We'll be soaked in the rain and wind, and I'll be at a loss as to how to keep my family safe, from the bombing and from the winter.🥹

I'm really hoping you can help me and my family to live through this awful war.💔

🥹❤️‍🩹https://gofund.me/ed6e9cb6🥹❤️‍🩹

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @just-browsing1222-deactivated20 @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @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 @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @camgirlpanopticon @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygol @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp

Y'all!!! Emergency!!!

Your Esims are also helping Palestinians in Jenin!!

Instructions & Discount codes

Truly Esim

Thank you @anneemay for the notice

How to Save Your Own Life, Erica Jong

josh jenkoheads unite ❤️

guess who is starting to think josh jenkinson is kinda fine

spoiler alert it’s me

Not only are there never enough women singing rock music there’s never enough bands with a female lead singer who just sucks

Hi!!

I would like to ask for a chapter inspired by afterglow where enzo and the reader fight, because she was jealous of him with his ex, or any other girl, and their relationship was a secret because he wanted therefore the reader thinks he's cheating on her and that shw was secret bc it would be easier to cheat on her.

˗ˏˋ🎇 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: with enzo wanting to keep your relationship a secret, you couldn’t help but to think other things after seeing malena’s comments on enzo’s posts.

·˚ ༘ warnings: angst(with happy ending), secret relationship, jealousy, cussing, crying, overthinking, mentions of cheating(assumption).

·˚ ༘ note: I decided to mix these two requests since they’re almost similar. also NO HATE towards malena, this is just part of the plot.

There always had to be something. Something wandering in your mind that would make you overthink, always having you on the edge. And even more, if you had a secret relationship with a man that everyone wanted to be with. While you couldn't even hug, kiss, or appreciate him in public.

Relationships in secret can cause fights, trust issues, anything.

“¡Cuantas veces te tengo que decir que entre Malena y yo no hay nada!” Enzo’s voice hollered through the hallway of your house.

Enzo and you had been bickering back and forth about what had been going on between his comment section with Malena. So many comments, she would comment more on your boyfriend’s post than hers, you would think, with the jealousy that would poison your mind. You had given him the silence treatment but it all fell apart when he continued to ask you what was going on with you.

“Ay, por Dios, Enzo.” You pinched the bridge of your nose with a furrow. “Se ve que le gustas a la hija de—” You eliminate your words not wanting to go far with them. Your fists balled with a sigh.

“¡No digas estupideces! ¡Ella está con Matías, carajo!” There was rage in his voice, veins popping on his forehead, if it was possible to pop it with a pin, it would.

The room was hot, with the amount of screaming between the two. You were lucky all the windows were closed, if not the neighbors would’ve gotten a sound of it. No matter how much you tried to control the anger it would grow and grow, and with it, the tears that you felt were gonna come soon. The tears of anger and frustration.

“No tenemos nada.” Enzo’s words are repeated, once more. In a way to leave it evident.

“No te creo.” There was a small smile where all you could see was the corners of your lips raised. A sarcastic smile. “¿No crees que no vi un vídeo de ti con ella después de Los Goya?” You dared, by getting closer to him and pointing him in the chest.

“Estábamos charlando.” He gritted through his teeth.

It was devastating that you couldn’t trust your boyfriend. The idea of him cheating would boil your blood, and break you at the same time into millions. The feeling of a tornado inside of you that would quickly get out and take over everything in the relationship, you were afraid of that. As much as the problem was the both of you having the relation a secret, you would blame yourself for it, for exploding.

“Créeme nena.” Enzo’s hands tried to reach for you, but you drove him away not wanting to have him near you.

“Ya te dije, no te puedo creer.” You looked him in the eyes. Anger is full on them. “Como me pides que te crea si tenemos la relación en secreto ¿Ah?”

“Sabes que yo quería mantenerla los primeros meses por tú bien.” His anger was rising again.

His body figure walked towards you making you walk backwards, but the roles were switched after you started to speak—

“No me jodas, de seguro se te hace más fácil mantenerla en secreto para poder irte con otra chica.” Oh, your words were pushing it. With the anger that was blinding you, you weren’t calculating your words.

“¿Me estás jodiendo verdad? ¿Te estás escuchando? ¡Me estás acusando sobre algo que no es!” His finger went towards his ears in a motion.

“Tendría lógica, Enzo.” You whisper swallowing the lump. “Soy un secreto, ¿es más fácil así no?” You gift him a dead smirk, with the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Nena, no llores por favor.” He decided to pay no attention to your previous comments and focused on the tears that were running down your cheeks.

“No, Enzo.” You decided to leave the sentimental aside and wipe the tears. “Será mejor que te vallas.”

You turned around to walk towards the entrance of your house, not even bothering to turn around to see if Enzo followed. You knew he was because you could feel his atmosphere behind you.

“Nena—” He called, but you didn’t stop. “¡Nena! ¡Dejame explicarte por favor!” Still no stopping.

The door swung open and you made a motion with your hand “Vete.” Enzo looked between you and the door, if you thought he would leave without fixing this, you were so wrong.

With his hand, he slammed the door closed making you furrow your brows in anger and ready to protest, but his short words left you silent. “Te sentas.” He points towards the couch.

You knew Enzo, nothing that you would do would make him alter his decision of not leaving. So the better answer was for you to walk over towards that couch, and sit even if you huffed in anger. The silence cried loud in the room, an uncomfortable silence that you didn’t know how to get rid of. By this time your anger was cooling off and you didn’t know how to apologize, but you wanted to. You guessed you were simply afraid of saying it.

And deep inside, you knew, that Enzo wasn’t cheating on you, but the games the mind would play and have you second thinking was what was burning you, and with you, Enzo, and the relationship.

Your body flinched at the contact of Enzo’s fingertips touching your knee, it brought you out of your zone, paying attention to how Enzo kneeled in front of you.

You didn’t realize what you said, not until you did, still being in the zone. “¿Me amas todavía?”

Enzo’s eyes were glued on you, hands still on your knees, but they traveled to your face to hold you. “No hay ningún día en que mi amor por vos no crezca.”

Some sniffles came from you. The tears began falling onto your cheeks but Enzo’s thumbs were doing the favor of wiping them away. Your voice hurt when you spoke. “Perdón por dudar de ti. Es que— se me hace difícil, no te puedo tocar, besar, o tan siquiera salir a tomar un estupido cafe y al ver que otra chica al reír posa sus manos sobre tus hombros o se ve muy juntita a ti me hace pensar que tal ves puedas estar con ella a escondidas, o como con los comentarios de Malena. Los celos hacen olvidarme que tú no eres así.”

“Lo se.” He gifted you a smile. He didn’t want to say much right now, he wanted you to let it out, let you speak how you felt.

But you felt rued, you didn't deserve someone like Enzo. No matter how much you would fuck up or say the most hurtful things, he knew you wouldn’t mean it. Because he knew you.

“Perdón por todo esto, por todo lo que dije. Y perdóname si te lastime, por favor. Todo esto es solo es en mi cabeza.” You took his hands off your cheeks and wrapped them in yours.

“No pasa nada, bonita. Perdóname vos a mí, por querer mantener la relación en secreto. Pensé que te estaba haciendo un bien y solo resultó haciéndote un mal.” He kept his eyes down on your interlocked hands. “Pero ya no más, no te pienso ocultar más. Me di cuenta que no importa cuanto trate de protegerte siempre va a pasar algo. Pero por lo menos estaré yo ahí para poder ayudarte, y que sepas vos que lo que digan no es verdad.”

The first smile after hours, finally grows on your face. The toxin was finally being replaced with the medicine that Enzo would give you, happiness.

“¿En serio?” Your voice was soft, barely hearable.

“Sí.” Enzo smiled with a soft squeeze from his hands. “Es muy cobarde de mi parte ocultar a una persona tan maravillosa como vos, chiquita.” He took his hand back to your cheek, placing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“¿Te puedo pedir algo?” Your breath fell hot onto his hand that was close to your lips.

“Lo que sea.” A nod was delivered to you after his words.

“Dime que todavía eres mío, y que vamos a estar bien.” Your eyes were glistening, and they had a soft look compared to the previous sore ones.

Enzo got closer to you smiling before he spoke, “Soy tuyo, y vamos a estar bien. Sea lo que sea, pase lo que pase.” He kisses your knuckles, with the other hand that is still holding yours, not sure if you are ready at the moment for a peck. He didn’t want to push the limit.

You felt better knowing Enzo and you would finally make your relationship public. It was exciting at first, having a secret. Having the secret rendezvous, not telling anyone where the both of you would head to. Of course, with time it became a tad exhausting for you, but you would never tell Enzo anything.

So yeah, you were excited to finally make it public, and so was Enzo. Finally able to see everything, together.

that f1 lando has an absolutely enormous head

PEACH RING PROMISES

LINE BY LINE ᝰ.ᐟ “I know a place / It's somewhere I go when I need to remember your face / We get married in our heads / Something to do while we try to recall how we met” - The 1975, About You

ᝰ PAIRING: oscar piastri x f!reader | ᝰ WC: 1.1K ᝰ GENRE: established relationship, oscar is in love, there is a little baby cousin involved ᝰ INCOMING RADIO: this has been gathering dust in my wips for like. a week now but was then locked and loaded for an oscar miami win // not beta-read. we die like men ꨄ requested by @estellaelysian !

Some people go to church; you go to the treehouse. 

It sits crooked at the edge of the Piastri property line, half-swallowed by jasmine vines and the hum of summer. The planks are sun-bleached and splintering, nailed together with the blind optimism that only dads and four-year-olds share. But it’s still standing – stubborn, quiet, familiar – like the memory of a face you’ll never forget. 

Today, it overlooks a backyard choked with folding chairs and sunburnt uncles, picnic blankets and toddlers sugar-high on too many juice boxes. The barbeque is in full swing – OScar’s mum’s at the grill, his dad’s holding court with a beer in one hand and a story in the other, and someone’s blasting Seven Nation Army from a portable speaker (you swear you see Oscar roll his eyes when some of his family members start changing the lyrics to include his name).

You had just finished your second helping of potato salad when Theo, Oscar’s five-year-old cousin and self-appointed general of the under-five army, came barreling toward the two of you like a missile in Paw Patrol socks. 

“Hide and seek!” he declared, panting, cheeks red. “You’re it!” 

Oscar looked up from your shared plate, looking deeply betrayed. “Why am I always it?” 

“Because you’re tall!” Theo whined, tugging at his hand. “And you never play with me.” 

Which was a bold accusation, considering Oscar had spent the morning pushing him around on a plastic trike and pretending to be a race car announcer. Still, Oscar hesitated – eyeing the shady comfort of the patio – until you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Come on,” you murmured, soft and smug. “Don’t make me count.” 

So he sighed, knelt down, and covered his eyes with a dramatic groan. “One…. two…. three…” 

You slipped away, giggling, weaving past lawn chairs and coolers and sticky-fingered children until you reached the edge of the yard, ducking beneath the canopy of trees. 

And now, here you are. 

The treehouse looks almost shy, peeking out between branches. The ladder’s still rickety, the walls still wonky, but it holds you like it remembers you. You climb inside and sit cross-legged on the floorboards, brushing dust from the heart you once drew into the wood with a rock. Your initials, backwards and misshapen, look like you carved them yesterday. 

You got married here once – four years old, caked in mud, with Hattie (barely out of pull-ups, in a bright orange tutu) acting as both officiant and chief witness. You gave Oscar a peach ring. He cried when you ate it thirty minutes later. 

You kissed his cheek with grass-stained lips and told him he was silly. “We don’t need a ring,” you’d said, wiping his nose with the hem of your shirt. “We love each other. That’s the proof.” 

You don’t hear the ladder creak, but you know it’s him before he speaks. 

“Hiya,” Oscar says, ducking into the doorway like a hippo trying to fit into a china shop. His grin is crooked. Warm. His curls are longer now, haloing his face like he’s been touched by sunlight. 

“How’d you find me?” 

“Our wedding venue,” he says drily, brushing a leaf from your hair. “Bit of a cop-out though. You didn’t even try.” 

You scoff and whip a twig at him. It bounces harmlessly off his shoulder. “You weren’t even counting properly,” you reply. “Hattie taught you better than that.” 

He folds himself beside you like an accordion, limbs gangly, knees knocking into yours. “God,” he mutters, glancing around. “We were tiny.” 

“You still are,” your chirp. That earns you a pinch to your side. You shriek and nearly kick out a support beam. 

When the air settles, you rest your chin on your knee and say, “If we get married-”

“When we get married,” he correct instantly, poking your ribs. 

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth betray you. “Fine. When we get married, have you thought about the venue?”

He hums thoughtfully, shifting to lie down with his head in your lap. You card your fingers through his curls, watching them spring back into place. They curve around his ears, golden at the tips, soft as they were when he was four and you made him cry. 

“What’s wrong with the venue of our first wedding?” he asks, cracking one eye open. “I’ve heard great things about the officiant. Real prodigy.” 

You snort. “She also tried to eat a snail halfway through the vows.” 

“A creative soul.” 

Before you can respond, the hatch slams open. 

“You FORGOT about me, Oz!” Theo screeches, hauling himself into the treehouse with all the righteous fury of a betrayed war general. 

Oscar barely has time to yelp before Theo flops into your lap like a royal cat, shoving Oscar’s head out of the way with a chubby hand. 

“I was winning,” Oscar insists, pressing loud, dramatic kisses to his cousin’s sticky curls and apologizing like it’s the end of the world. You laugh until your sides ache. 

Eventually, Oscar untangles himself and groans, cracking every joint like he’s been in a clown car. “There’s only so much cramping a man can take,” he says, grabbing Theo under the arms and turning back to you with an outstretched hand. 

You take it. 

The descent is careful – Theo held like a football, your hand snug in his. Your feet hit the grass and the smell of charcoal and sunscreen floods your lungs. 

“You guys would be a good mommy and daddy,” Theo announces suddenly, chin tilted up, tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. 

Oscar throws a cheeky wink at you over his head. You groan and shake your head, the laugh bubbling up anyways. 

“BUT!” Theo says quickly, yanking your hand to pull you closer like he’s about to reveal state secrets. “Maisie told me mommies and daddies have to be married. Are you guys MARRIED?” 

“Yes,” Oscar says immediately, just as you snap, “No!” 

“Oscar!” you slap his chest, scandalized. 

“What?” he shrugs, entirely unbothered, not even trying to hide the smile. “Feels true.” 

Theo frowns. “Where are your rings? Married people have rings.” 

Oscar reaches for your hand and you swat it away, faking disgust. He smirks. “We don’t need them,” he says easily. “We’re in love.”

His cousin accepts this with a sage nod only toddlers can pull off, then wriggles free and barrels across the yard, lungs at full capacity. 

“MUM! MUM! OSCAR IS MARRIED! THEY’RE MARRIED! I SAW! THEY SAID!” 

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder. “He’s going to tell your entire family.” 

Oscar just grins, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your shoulders. “It’s already happened once,” he says, brushing a kiss to your temple. “And it’s going to happen again. Isn’t it?” 

You don’t answer – not out loud. But your fingers find his where they rest over your heart, and you hold them there.