If You’re Living In The US And Reading This Right Now, I Need You To Know That If Republicans Take

Help Us Evacuate Gaza

Hello everyone, I am Ghazi Alamoudi from the northern Gaza Strip, displaced in Deir Al-Balah, and living in a tent with my family.😢🥺

My family and I are facing unimaginable hardship due to the ongoing war in Gaza. We have lost our home, my career, and our sense of safety. Now, we are living in a small tent, trying to survive each day amidst the chaos and destruction.

Before the war, I worked as an instructional designer, building a future for my family. But that life has been shattered. We are now desperate to find safety and start over. But we need your help. We are trying to raise funds to escape Gaza and rebuild our lives in a place where we can finally find peace.

Before — This was my life before the war, filled with hope and promise.

After — This is what remains after the destruction.

What once stood as a symbol of hope, my Home is now nothing but shattered walls and debris. I had just finished building our home, a place where I could finally feel safe. But in the blink of an eye, everything was destroyed by the ongoing war. The sounds of explosions filled the air, and I fled with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Now, where our memories and dreams once lived, all that remains is devastation.

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #89 )

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Donate to From War and Tents to Safety: Help Us Evacuate Gaza, organized by Ghazi Alamoudi

The bombs keep falling. Each day, my family and I wake up in Gaza t… Ghazi Alamoudi needs your support for From War and Tents to Safety: Hel

I KINDLY ASK ALL OF YOU TO HELP ME AND DONATE IN THE LINK PLEASE

@90-ghost @communistchilchuck @northgazaupdates2 @el-shab-hussein @fairuz @vakarians-babe @nabulsi @sarazucker @fairuzfan @a-nautilus-as-pixel-art @13eyond13 @stil-lindigo @baby-indie-blog @just-browsing1222 @sar-soor @sayruq @appsa @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @marnota @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @animentality @kordeliiius @commissions4aid-international @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @malcriada

"I need your support more than ever. Please, if you can donate, any amount helps. If you can’t, sharing our story is just as important. Every reblog and donation brings us one step closer to safety and rebuilding our lives."

Purgatory is Sweet Punishment

Request: Pls let Solomon and Simeon use mc like a fleshlight 😳😩👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻✨ I want to see her covered in their mess and overstimmed and begging for them

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: a short thing!! I hope you like it:)

-

Simeon watches from the doorway, his mouth pulled into a thin line as he watches you whine under Solomon, your mouth open and eyes rolled back to your head with tears shining. He hates the feeling of heat that bubbles in his stomach, golden blood that rushes through his body and settles below him.

He hadn’t meant to walk in on the both of you during your more intimate time- not that he knew what was going on. He simply thought that the two of you were studying but perhaps he should have known that the two of you were in the process of something else.

Solomon pulls out of you, his cock dripping with your sweetened nectar, as you lay under him, your hands reaching for his forward, your voice broken as you call for him to come closer. “Solo,” you whine, thrusting your hips upwards. “Don’t go, please, Solo, don’t go.” You roll your hips and clench your thighs together and Simeon finds himself enchanted by the way your cunt flutters.

“For someone who chastised us, you seem to be pretty interested,” Solomon teases, turning around and Simeon quickly averts his eyes away from you. His own cock bobs and drips with cream- either from you or him, the angel isn’t sure. “You can always join us, you know.” Solomon’s hands slip away from your grip, and he gently slides his hands down your thighs, curving against the fat and sinking his fingers into you. “They won’t mind.”

“They’re hypnotized,” Simeon hisses out, his leg jerking and causing a ripple effect where he can finally move. “It isn’t right. What if it weren’t me who walked through the door? How would you have explained yourself then? I can barely contain my rage as it is.” He finds himself at the edge of the bed, your body hot enough for him to feel without even touching you.

Solomon’s smile doesn’t falter, it only twitches upwards, his hands now gripping your thighs leaving you whining at the mere contact of it. “They consented. We’re both into this. Want to see?” Solomon taps the center of your forehead, and you take a deep breath, slowly blinking away as if a light is being shone in your face. “Are you back with us?” You nod, licking at your lips, your mouth slightly parted as you turn to face where Simeon stands.

“Oh no,” you whisper under your breath, quickly turning your gaze back to Solomon. “Why did you bring me back now?” You hissed, your hands going to cover your burning face. “Solo, please tell me this is some weird hologram that you made,” you whine beneath your palms.

“It’s the real deal,” he answers, grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your face. His hand lets go of your wrist, letting it fall to your chest where you desperately try to cover your chest. His hand cups your cheek and forces you to turn where Simeon stands. “Come on, don’t cry.”

“You’re the absolute worst,” you mutter, your eyes closing tightly, creases appearing between your brows.

“Look at that, Simeon, they're crying. Won’t you comfort them?” Solomon asks, kissing at your knuckles. “Could you really stand to see them cry?” He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s pleased, the glee in his voice so thick that it makes Simeon’s face burn.

He stands still, his muscles stiff as he decides what to do. He may be an angel, but he knows what will happen if he decides to comfort you. You are his temptation, the sin that burns under his skin and haunts his every waking moment and he knows he isn’t strong enough to refuse you- especially when you’re in such an exposed and vulnerable state.

But he can’t stay. He can’t risk losing himself just because he felt that he had to wipe away your tears. Simeon can’t risk falling- he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle the heartbreak that would come from it. Yet, how can he say no to you, how can he deny you when you’re staring up at him with wide and glassy eyes and puffed lips from too many kisses.

“Simmy,” you sniffle, “please.” He isn’t sure what you’re asking of him and he doesn’t think you are either. Your hands go to clasp to the little excess of his pants, clutching it feebly in your hand and his resolve is gone.

He lowers himself to his knees, his hand replacing where Solomon held you, and he smiles gently at you. “It’s okay, my little lamb, there’s no need to cry.” The words only seem to have the opposite effect, thick tears grazing past his fingertips. “I’m not your judge, it’s okay. Please, don’t worry yourself.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face scrunches when Solomon massages his cock against your clit, his hands held tightly at your hips. Simeon’s fingers brush away strands of hair that stick to your temple. “Just look at me, okay?” His mouth snaps closed when yours opens up to release a sultry moan, that is breathed against his lips. He is left staring at your face as Solomon pushes into you, curses falling past your lips as your hand goes to hold Simeon’s hand, gripping it tightly with your nails.

Your name is called by the man who is deflowering you and you turn to him, your eyes heavy with lust as your chest bounces. “Do you want Simeon to join us? Hm? Do you want Simeon to fuck that pretty, pink cunt of yours?” You nod, wrapping your legs around Solomon’s torso, keeping him trapped there as he pumps inside of you. “Don’t say it to me, say it to him. He won’t fuck you if you’re hypnotized so he’ll have to have you ask him.”

Your face is flushed, and he can hear your heart beat erratically in your chest. Your chest rises and dips as you turn to the angel, your mouth parted and already asking him to join before you can look him in the eyes. His hand burns against your skin, touching such an innocent place but to him it’s as if he’s touching something intimate, looking into your eyes as you’re fucked by a close friend of his.

“Simeon,” you gasp between the moans, your hand moving slowly as if muddled by amber, “please, just touch me.” Solomon’s moans interrupt your words as you’re pushed deeper into the bed. Your hand grasps onto the collar of his shorts and you pull him into a messy kiss. It’s teeth and tongue, saliva slipping past the corners of each other’s mouth while your hands go to cover every inch of his body that is exposed. “Simmy, just touch me,” you croak, pulling away with a thin strong of saliva connecting the both of you.

His hand is soft as it curves over your breast, his fingers brushing along a pebbled nipple. The bud is pinched, and it’s foreign in his hands, stiff and malleable at the same time, leaving you grasping at his shirt, pleading under your breath as his name is the only thing that you can say without falling apart. Your moans echo into his mouth, leaving his chest vibrating and he’s left breathless, dying at your lips as he hand kneads into your soft breast.

A puddle of white cloth is pooled around Simeon’s ankles, his body bare and radiant as he’s led onto the mattress. Hands touch at his body, tainting his holy being with sin that covers his brown skin, trails of lips that are pressed to the nape of his neck and against his own breast. Your lips are tender, pressed against his own; honeysuckle that sticks to his tongue and leaves him with aching teeth. Eyes are on him, and for once, they aren’t judgmental, they are free and full of love and he’s left hiding at the crook of your neck and holding onto Solomon’s hands, with poison that threatens to rip apart his soul and spill onto the two that are left on the bed.

“You’re allowed to touch them, you know,” Solomon says in a smile, his hand pulling away from the angels. “They want it too.” His eyes shift from Simeon to you who’s watching him with wicked eyes. “They’re dripping just at the feeling of kissing you. Show him how much you want him.”

He watches as your hand disappears between your legs, your fingers rubbing softly against your clit, your face heated and even though flushed, you still look at him. He watches how your fingers tease around your entrance, how they’re sucked inside and the soft melody of clicking sounds as you finger yourself in front of him, because of him. He watches and waits with bated breath and when you pull your hands away, translucent gossamer strings stick between your fingers. Your wrist is held in the angel’s hands and your nectar that is oh-so-sweet is placed on his tongue, his lips wrapping around your fingers, and the two humans before him watch as their angel suckles in something so sweet as if it were his final meal.

“Simeon,” you call to him, your hand outstretched, face burning as you entice him. You want nothing more than to just hold his hand, to touch him and let him feel you. “Simeon, please,” you cry, so desperate to hold his hand.

The angel turns to Solomon who pulls you to his chest, and so desperate to have your cunt filled, you align yourself to his cock, letting it nestle around your walls. “I- Is it really okay?” Simeon asks, watching as you squirm above Solomon.

“No one is here to judge you, Simeon. You’re allowed to do whatever you want to them.” Solomon holds his hand out to Simeon, his smile tempting as he curls his fingers, beckoning for Simeon to join him. “How would you like them?” Simeon furrows his brows in confusion and Solomon chuckles lightly. “You can have them vaginally-”

“It’s wrong to have premarital sex,” Simeon quickly interjects.

“So then anally?” The angel goes stiff. “Don’t worry, they’re already prepped,” Solomon mumbles. He lowers you to the bed, his cock sliding out of you, strings of arousal connecting and making his length glisten under the light of the room. “You can slip into them with ease-'' there's eagerness in his voice that the sorcerer does not try to hide- promise.” Solomon lies on his back, having you sit above him, slowly leaning over as his mouth pulls in one of your supple breasts, nursing on you as your hands reach around and grab at your bum, stretching the fat to have your taint exposed. “Just go ahead and use them. They like it when you’re rough,” he winks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

Simeon lets his cockhead kiss your hole, and it flutters around him, and the slapping of skin is enough to let him suck in a sharp breath and push himself inside of you. You moan and it’s intertwined with a sob and a call of his name and just as quick, you tighten yourself around him. Your walls are tight, gummy and clinging to the shape of his cock that curves and rises with soft bulges.

“Oh god, Simeon,” you wail, pulling away from the kiss and tilting your head backward. “Simeon, fuck- you’re so big.” There are tears in your voice and Simeon has to bite the inside of his cheeks to ignore the forming smile.

Inside of you, semen has begun to leak, iridescent and holy, filling your hole with such that makes the angel ignore the motions that are happening. He’s sinned under no one’s eyes and yet, he’s sinned to the two people who he cares for. He can feel something evil latch onto him, his need to have you call his name, to replace the name of Father with his, your voice the only thing that he can hear, along with Solomon’s grunts and breathless laughs. He’s pulled away from you and you and him whine at the loss of contact, your hands searching for him and body missing as semen leaks out of your abused holes. His shaft is cleansed of yours and his arousal and your legs are bent to your chest, your hands scratching and marring his back and he’s drowning in you, suffocating as he breeds you, burying his face into the crook of his neck and letting his teeth rip your skin.

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing the sides and your breath is restricted. Your heartbeat rises, pulses and vibrates under his skin, your cunt tightening into something that makes it so easy for him to spill. Everything has bordered along fear and pleasure. “Sim- Simeon, Oh fuck-” your sentence is ruined by a moan, your body shaking as you mouth remains open, a thick trail of drool sliding past your bottom lip. “Simeon, Simeon,” you chant, raising your hips, your walls clinging to him and Solomon captures your lips.

He pulls away with a drunken expression, looking at Simeon who is sloppily thrusting inside of you. “Well, would you look at that- Ha,” Solomon says playfully, a hand of his squeezing at your breast. “You fucked them silly, Simeon.”

Your cunt leaks and Solomon nurses on your breast, your hand running through his hair as your sex burns, too sensitive, so close and so far. You leak in heavy strands, your body shaking as you call for both of them, whining and twisting under Simeon. Your legs ache, and you can feel him hit against your cervix, pushing so deep and so widely that you’re sure you’ll be unable to walk tomorrow.

Above you, Simeon moans, his face scrunched up as he can feel his release at the edge of him. Your cunt closes around him, clinging to his cock, and your lips capture his, tongue and teeth meet and he sobs into you, tears slipping onto your face and he spills. Your name leaves in a whimper past his lips, his hand curling above Solomon’s neck and holding it firmly, but loosely. You shake and cry, and when he pulls out of you, your body is on pins and needles as semen leaks out of you. The three of you lie in a bed and with sweat slicked bodies, you all stare up at the ceiling.

Help my family

November is the month with the most difficult memories in my family's life. On the fourth day of this month, we lost my older brother, Mohammed, during the Israeli occupation's invasion of the city of Beit Hanoun in the northern Gaza Strip. My brother Mohammed was shot in the chest by a Zionist sniper. He continued to bleed for hours until he passed away in the first minutes of the ambulance arriving، What is striking is that 18 years have passed since the loss of my brother, and the occupation is repeating the same approach, invading and destroying the same city of Beit Hanoun. We are suffering, we are suffering from a criminal occupation that is unparalleled throughout the ages.

.🔴🔴 Help my family from here 👈👈

I am still calling on you from the Tumblr platform that supports the Palestinian cause to save what is left of my family So that we can provide them with the necessities of life or get them to safety if possible

vetted 👈👈

🚨 This isn't a plea. This is the cry of a mother being torn apart.

This is what it looks like... when a child dies, not from disease, but from poverty.

My child isn't treated.

He isn't held.

He's tortured—slowly and silently—and I watch.

He no longer cries. He chokes.

His lips are blue. His eyes are dull.

His chest barely rises, as if every breath is a war.

And I, his mother, stand here... completely useless.

They told me:

"Pay now, or take him to die."

They said it coldly. Without hesitation. Without heart.

As if my child isn't a life...just a number on a bill.

My child isn't dying from disease.

He dies because we are poor.

And the world is merciless to the poor.

Can you imagine watching your child vanish, knowing that he could be saved—if only you had the money?

Can you imagine digging his grave...

Not because he lost the battle -

But because no one gave him a chance to fight?

Every second is a knife.Every breath he loses - it breaks me more than death does.

I'm not asking for luxury.

I'm not asking for miracles.

I'm begging: Don't force me to bury him while he's still looking at me.

❌ No surgery

❌ No oxygen

❌ No time

❌ Nothing... except God... and maybe... you

If you have an ounce of humanity - help me.

If you're a mother, a father, a human being - save him.

If you can't donate, share this. Let the world hear his silent scream.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Hammad Provide For His Family, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Ahmed H… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Ahmed Hammad Prov

I'm a mother who's silently collapsing...I don't want to bury my child in a graveWhen he can still laugh... run... say "Mama"- if only we could keep him alive.

Verified : @90-ghost

Verified:@bilal-salah0

Vetted by: @gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #576 )

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Don't ignore my story

"My family lived a simple, stable life, filled with hope and hard work. Father Youssef worked every day to provide for his family, his wife, and his three children. They owned a small house that provided them with security and warmth, and the children went to school, carrying their dreams of a better future.

But, in a tragic moment, war came and destroyed everything. Youssef and his family lost their entire home, leaving only ruins that held their painful memories. Youssef's source of livelihood was gone, and his children were deprived of education, their most basic right. Now, the family lives in poverty, facing a severe shortage of basic necessities such as food, shelter, and medicine.

Despite these difficult circumstances, Youssef has not lost hope. He believes that goodness still exists in people's hearts, and that your support can make a huge difference in their lives. My family desperately needs your help to secure treatment for the children, provide safe shelter, and send them back to school.

Every donation, no matter how small, will serve as a ray of hope. Lighting the path for the Youssef family to a better future.

Thank you to everyone who is helping support this family as they struggle to rebuild their lives.

gofundme.com

Donate to Youssef and his family need your support., organised by Kirsty Watson

I am kirsty, I am from England, I met Youssef through volunteer work with Ebon… Kirsty Watson needs your support for Youssef and his family

verified by..@90-ghost

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Deadline

Hollywood Studios’ WGA Strike Endgame Is To Let Writers Go Broke Before Resuming Talks In Fall

EXCLUSIVE: Regardless of whether SAG-AFTRA goes on strike this week, the studios have no intention of sitting down with the Writers Guild fo

Hollywood Studios’ WGA Strike Endgame Is To Let Writers Go Broke Before Resuming Talks In Fall

Regardless of whether SAG-AFTRA goes on strike this week, the studios have no intention of sitting down with the Writers Guild for several more months.

“I think we’re in for a long strike, and they’re going to let it bleed out,” said one industry veteran intimate with the POV of studio CEOs.

While some dismiss this as just “cynical strike talk,” studio and streamer sources around town confirm the strategy. They also confirm that the plan to grind down the guild has long been in the works for a labor cycle that all sides agree is a game-changer one way or another for Hollywood.

“It’s been agreed to for months, even before the WGA went out,” one executive said. “Nobody wanted a strike, but everybody knew this was make or break.”

Receiving positive feedback from Wall Street since the WGA went on strike May 2, Warner Bros Discovery, Apple, Netflix, Amazon, Disney, Paramount and others have become determined to “break the WGA,” as one studio exec blatantly put it.

To do so, the studios and the AMPTP believe that by October most writers will be running out of money after five months on the picket lines and no work.

“The endgame is to allow things to drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses,” a studio executive told Deadline. Acknowledging the cold-as-ice approach, several other sources reiterated the statement. One insider called it “a cruel but necessary evil.”

The studios and streamers’ next think financially strapped writers would go to WGA leadership and demand they restart talks before what could be a very cold Christmas. In that context, the studios and streamers feel they would be in a position to dictate most of the terms of any possible deal.

‼️Helping me means helping 5 members of my family..‼️

🥶We're freezing🥶

Hello, I'm Wasim from Gaza, in Al-Mawasi specifically... My family and I were displaced from Rafah after hardship, bombing, displacement, and hunger.😭😔

Now we have been away from our city and our beautiful home for 9 months. We have lost our house that my father built stone by stone and he worked 24/7 to build this house. But the occupation destroyed it, and no house remained in my beautiful city remained intact.😭💔💔

We are now living in a tent or semi-tent, which does not protect us from the cold of winter or the rain. Our lives are very difficult.😔😭

Thanks to your donations, we have been able to buy food and flour, and now I am asking you for help to buy a tent that will protect us from the cold of winter. We do not know what it means to sleep because of the extreme cold.🥶

This is our tent made of fabric and some nylon, not closed on one side. We are freezing from the cold. Help us to buy a new tent. You are our last hope.😭🥶🥶🙏

I also want to ask for help for my mother, who is the most precious thing in my life. Without her, I am nothing...

She has a back cartilage disease and is in great pain. She needs physical therapy, medicine, and vitamins, and I am unable to provide them. Help my mother receive treatment.🙏🙏😭

Campaign Link⬇️⬇️⬇️

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Wasim's family rebuild their lives, organized by Freya Knarr

My name is Freya Knarr and I live near Chicago, IL. Because Gofundme does not allo… Freya Knarr needs your support for Help Wasim's family r

@gazavetters

it is so incredibly sad to constantly see kids on instagram and tiktok who are younger than my brother have to literally beg for shelter, food, water, medicine, and their right to exist as human beings

i mean, this young girl is only ten years old, yet she is essentially responsible for convincing random people scrolling through instagram that her and her family’s life are worth fighting for

on top of that, their gofundme is not even 10% funded and time is running out, please if you can’t donate, just share

please don’t let this little girl die begging

gofundme.com

Donate to Help me get out of Gaza to safety rebuild my life!, organized by Kathryn Barron

I am Nidaa Shalayel from Gaza. I am 37 years old. I am an English te… Kathryn Barron needs your support for Help me get out of Gaza to safet