ava aka vani aka lucas/25/lesbian/androgynous (she/he/they/it)/white/autistic fuckin uhhhhh hey i mostly post about my special interests and my love for my girlfriend (header by lgbtloids) like my art? feel free to commission me or donate!! https://ko-fi.com/butterscotchbrigade
this is basically a way for me to earn some money while i search for a stable job in the meantime. you can c0mmission me (censored to avoid attracting bots), or just donate/leave a tip!!! it really means a lot!!!
currently the only art i have on there are just examples of older art to give c0mmissioners an idea of what to expect, but i hope to add more as i do more c0mms for ppl!!! check out more of my stuff under the "my doodles" tag on tumblr if u want to see other examples :)
i currently have 10 slots open to start with!!! depending on how it goes i may open up more!!! if u do c0mmission me, make sure to read my terms of service first!! if u cant c0mm or donate, then pls spread this around!! tysm!!!
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In this scorching summer, our tent has become an unbearable place to live. The suffocating heat fills it throughout the day, leaving us with no shade to protect us and no breeze to bring relief. When night falls, another struggle begins as rats and insects spread throughout the tent, stealing our children's sleep and filling their hearts with fear. Every day, we endure the relentless summer heat and the dangers of these harsh conditions. All we hope for is a safe shelter that preserves our dignity and gives our children the chance to live in safety.
"The Alaa family lived a peaceful and stable life in their beautiful home. Alaa and her… Ola Moh needs your support for Help Ola’s Family Fi
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if hiphop weren't real its existence would sound like an exceptionally heavy-handed metaphor about racism from a really cringe didactic fantasy novel. yeah the racialized underclass in this society, the one that's constantly derided by the ethnic majority as stupid and anti-intellectual, they have a complex artistic tradition based around improvisational poetry which is sometimes enacted on a competitive basis for dispute resolution. you get judged based on the subtlety of your wordplay and the complexity of your internal rhyme schemes. the dominant group periodically gets mad about how this doesn't count as real art like their own objectively more simplistic music and poetry because sometimes it has swears in it
I really can and will blame the 9-5 for everything. "We're in a loneliness epidemic" well, we have to spend a third of our day interacting with people in a professional way that makes forming real friendships difficult and then we're peopled out by the time we're done. "People are eating more and more unhealthily" people have to spend more than a third of their day doing work related tasks and they don't want to spend their tiny amount of free time making food. "People aren't involved in their local communities" after spending more than a third of their day doing work related things people are tired and also all those community events take place during normal working hours. "People need to get more hobbies" after spending more than a third of their day working, people are TIRED and don't want to do anything that takes yet more energy. "Literacy is dying" to maintain your critical thinking skills you need to read/watch things that make you think and after spending more than a third of your day doing work related stuff you are TIRED and don't want to expend even more brainnpower. "People need to get outside more" People. Are. TIRED. Because they have to spend all of their time working or preparing for work or recovering from work or doing all the chores they couldn't stay on top of because of work. I can blame fucking anything on having to work, it is truly the root of all fucking evil.
I write to you with tears in my eyes. The genocide killed our provider, the one who gave us food and clean water. My older brother was our support; he provided food for us and my mother, who was suffering from cancer. My brother was killed by a treacherous bullet to the head; he died instantly. My mother's health deteriorated afterward until she died from the hunger and disease that ravaged her body. My brother, my father, and I were left alone, with nothing to satisfy our hunger or silence our gnawing stomachs
Our bodies have been weakened by lack of food and clean water, and diseases have taken hold. I am now suffering from chest pain; I have been struck by a wheezing that causes shortness of breath and has confined me to bed. I find it difficult to move. Meanwhile, my younger brother and my frail father, who is suffering from the pain of loss and hunger, remain
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My father suffered greatly after losing my brother, and shortly after, my mother. Now his other son is bedridden and unable to do anything, and his other son is a young child. Our lives have been turned upside down. We are being killed in a genocide. My father looks at me every day and cries because he can't provide us with food, and my health is deteriorating day by day from hunger. Please help us. Save this helpless little family who don't even have enough money for food. Please save me before I die. My father has lost enough. Please don't leave us alone. Help us in any way you can. We need $300. Please help us. Don't let us die. Please. 💔😭😭
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Hello, my dear friends, I have created a link to help me, as our house was bombed and we have nothing left, and now we have no food and no shelter, money must be collected for food and shelter, as the cost of the tent is $2,000 and the food and drink is $1,000, the food is very, very expensive with the closure of the crossing, please, my friends, help me, my situation is very critical and I need every donation, $10 makes a difference.
In the heart of Gaza, a family of four clings to survival in the shadow of… Rania A needs your support for Gaza Family Left With Nothing Hel
Don't donate to World Central Kitchen because even after their members were murdered by Israel, the founder Jose Andreas still collaborated with Israel and recently they served displaced Israeli settlers bombed by Iran and Hezbollah
SADLY, MY BABY QAIS HAS DIED. THOSE MAY BE THE FIRST WORDS you READ FROM ME TOMORROW.
Tonight, he was admitted to intensive care after losing his ability to breathe, now surviving through machines, and I will not forgive anyone who sees this post and does not support me with a single word and ignores me.
The doctors told me his condition has become extremely critical, and without immediate treatment, he may not survive another night, so so I ask, can you help me get treatment for my baby Qais??
I am begging you as a persecuted mother in Gaza, watching my baby bleed in front of me, unable to stop it. Please donate now and help me save his life before it’s too late.
I am standing outside the ICU, waiting for any sign that he is still fighting, but every second feels like a goodbye I am not ready for. Please donate now and help me save my baby Qais.
Unfortunately, Qais has run out of medicine, and I cannot afford more. To everyone who helped before, I beg you again today. Your kindness kept him alive, and he still desperately needs support.
I’m saying this with a heart that can’t take more pain. If you read this and scroll away, I won’t forgive you. My baby is slipping away. Please donate now, please share—save Qais.
I lowkey hate when programs talk to me in a friendly way. "don't worry, nearly there!" Shut up. It should say "loading 64.3% completed. Do not turn off device" and absolutely nothing else. You arent my friend you are computer. Act like it
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what ralsei does with her hands is so important to me
call it a pattern more than a hard rule - but often, whatever's desperate enough to be expressed finds its way into the hands. thought, coalescing into action. affection, pooling into touch. fear, stalling into hesitation.
which may well be why i'm so fascinated by the way ralsei stows hers at the back
kept like that, they're removed from the situation - too far back to reach or interfere, merely ever cinching around what was antecedently given
ralsei is the ultimate embodiment of hands tied.
the prophecy's "prince" from the dark, meant only to assist and interpret, never to do. then comes chapter 5, and - SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT! -
suddenly... her hands are everywhere...?
her hands help when she wants them to and clench when she doesn't
her hands twine with kris', guiding them both through a puzzle she would've ordinarily waited to see solved first
her hands push flowery away
they swat at him, also!
her fingers pluck up the drink vouchers, eyes gleaming at her favorite among them
they help themselves to a bit of cheese, purely on a whim of taste
her palms cast an offensive spell for susie, instinct overriding a lifetime of learned passivity
and... loveliest of all... her hands fall naturally to her sides. loose and comfortable. tasked with nothing whatsoever, only where they happen to be.
in the wake of it all, ralsei kneels by the water, palms pressed together, praying like begging, begging like praying - doggedly convinced this is the far shore of who she can be.
and if the water answers at all, it does so with a reflection. one whose hands protected and defied. the change plain to any with eyes.
…you'd think a prophecy would know a better knot than that, wouldn't you?
ralsei's none the wiser. ask her, and she'd vehemently insist she can't alter a thing - least of all herself. but why ask at all? just take a gander at those mitts; they tell you plenty.
save some faith and belief for yourself, too, princess