FLEABAG 2.02
It didn’t pass. HELP!!!!
im in disbelief at the fact that a lot of folks are simply over palestine. like protests are dwindling down. people are not very interested in news related to gaza. some are simply over it.
israel hasn't let aid in gaza in 70 days. gaza has been starving for 70 days. the condition of people there is horrendous.
i find it distressing to think about children in gaza. how does one continue to have a childhood in a genocide? they don't have school. they don't have safety. they don't have food.
despite all this, the kids will be alright. they'll be alright once the genocide stops and they get back to 'normal'. till then, can we please try to support them however we can?
this fundraiser (verified) helps feed a family which includes two young children. please consider helping their mother take care of them.
donate here
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Imagine how hurtful it must have been for Crowley to see Gabriel, the person who literally took an active part in the process of traumatising the man he loves into the mindset that he cannot be happy and free, get a happy ending. To see the man, who was one of the reasons Aziraphale haven't even acknowledged their relationship for such a long time, because they were on "opposite sides". The man who was one of the reasons they couldn't be together, even as friends, for 6000 years. The man who wanted to execute Aziraphale with a smile on his face and "shut your stupid mouth and die already" as his "goodbye". Seeing this man getting what Crowley has always dreamt of: being able to run away with the person he loves, leave Heaven and Hell behind and just be together with his beloved - in Soho or on Alpha Centauri, literally wherever, because "Heaven is wherever Beelzebub is". Crowley seeing Gabriel get it so... so effortlessly, while he has worked for it so long, nearly died because of it and still haven't been able to get that, to get the happy ending and sever all the connections with Heaven and Hell. It must have hurt like hell (most literally).
my psychiatrist just diagnosed me with 19th century russian literature character
The Hour of Liberation Has Arrived (1974)
- Heiny Srour
Good Omens 2 feels like fanfiction not because of its contents but because the author is here on tumblr posting things like "hehe not sorry >:)" and getting hate anons
"Heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one sees it so, making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh... In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment in June."
art: Stanley Cursiter, "Apple Green" (1925)
quote: Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway (1925)
we need to bring back this tweet now more than ever
My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.
But life had other plans.
War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.
There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.
I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.
Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.
This is my life.
This is my daughter’s life.
And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.
Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.
That’s why I keep going.
I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.
How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war
💛 If you can, please support our journey here:
If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.
From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.
I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.
Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.
it works both ways