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The manager of the Egyptian Relief Committee in Gaza, Mohamed al-Wahidi, was assassinated by an IOF air strike this afternoon in Gaza City. So far today, at least 7 martyrs have ascended from these attacks in the Gaza Strip.
The Egyptian Relief Committee in Gaza provides humanitarian aid and on-the-ground support to the Palestinians of Gaza. Al-Wahidi was one of the first humanitarian organization directors to implement a plan to clear the rubble in Gaza, ensuring that families could at least partially move around the Strip on cleared roads.
Under Al-Wahidi's leadership, the Committee had been setting up public screenings of World Cup matches for displaced families. Al-Wahidi was killed just an hour before the Egypt-Argentina game began.
FIFA and other global institutions are not expected to make a statement. (caption via ig/: palestinianyouthmovement)
glasses wearers ; do you ever feel like it’s hard to breathe because your glasses keep sliding down and like pinching your nose shut? i’ve had them altered around the ears to fit better but it still suffocates me rippp
this is also reminding me that for my quinces i went to london and my grandma was genuinely upset and scared that i was gonna cross paths with prince harry and marry an english man….
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i think the reason why no one wants Argentina to win is more based off of the reaction the people from there had last time. while they were celebrating they were making hateful racist remarks and just the current racism they display in general
thats why i’m saying there are valid reasons! its a hugely flawed country, have you seen our president 😭😭😭 i mostly mean people talking about argentinas history and then backing a country that has one just as bad? like you can just support spain or england and not say they’re less problematic yk?
tbh i lowkey hate half the players in this cup there’s so many sexual predators it’s concerning. that’s also what i mean about the cup losing its magic now that im older, i know too much about the world :/
18+ mdni robby is so smart… robby is so knowledgeable and skilled at what he does and its so hot…
thinking abt asking him for help on some homework— “Robby, where would you expect the injury site to be for a patient who suffers from prosopagnosia post TBI?”
and it’s a genuine question!! but then.. the way he comes up behind your chair, puts on his readers, n leans over your shoulder to look at your paper… the low, steady tone he uses as he explains it to you, pointing out different things in your diagrams to help you visualize it… “Temporal lobe, sweetheart. Right about here.” he raps his pointer finger against the right spot twice, and you swallow thickly as you nod
“Right. The fusiform gyrus.” You pull your lower lip between your teeth. “Would there have to be damage bilaterally?” You already know the answer.
Robby raises a brow at you. You blink at him, as innocent n earnest as you can muster, and he schools his expression as he shakes his head. “No. Each side is specialized. Only the right fusiform gyrus mediates facial recognition.”
“Right.” You nod. “So damage to the left fusiform gyrus wouldn’t cause prosopagnosia, it’d cause….”
“Reading difficulties.” Robby finishes for you. “Possibly pure alexia.”
“Pure alexia…?”
Robby has to bite back his smirk. He talks nice and slow as he explains, “The inability to read while still being able to speak and understand language.” Then he leans closer to murmur in your ear “Any other questions, sweetheart? You want me to explain papercuts, or would you prefer I just fuck you now?”
n he’s soooo mean about it while he fucks you… when he thrusts into you he patronizes “Gonna cum on my cock like a good girl, honey? Hm? Want me to teach you how?” n when you start to roll your hips to chase his dick he lowly praises “There you go, what a quick learner. Such a smart girl.”
i mean i’m not a fan of any of the main Coloniser Countries™ and I have been rooting for anybody african (excluding morocco and sa for obvious reasons) but correct me if i’m wrong i don’t think that england or spain were behind the mass immigration of nazis to argentina 😭 i haven’t studied history since my ib diploma days but i think that was juan peron no? like im not saying it’s any better to support the european countries but from my understanding they’re not rlly the main reason argentina is the way it is rn? im open to hearing it if i am wrong! x
i’m talking way before that when spain and england colonized the land and murdered all the indigenous people :/
sometimes i’ll see someone make a good point about not wanting argentina to win the world cup and fine sure but then they’ll say they want england to win??? or spain???? n im like riiiiiight right
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the first world cup i remember is when germany sent argentina home and me n all the kids at my school were crying sobbing heartbroken saying how if we had german friends we would not be friends with them anymore LMAO THE DRAMAAAAA
i miss the times when i was a kid and the world cup was The Event! like class is cancelled and all the kids get rounded up in the gymnasium to watch the games??? now i don’t really care unless im actually watching arg play :/ i know too much about the world and the players now ripppp
Hi Sof! Lately I keep thinking about reader whose couple of years older than Beth and is pretty close with her and whose into Daryl and them always giggling and whispering with one anotehr when he’s around and he’s so confused about it.
"what're you two yapping about?" he's slinging the bow over his shoulder as he says it, glaring as you and beth giggle and whisper (poorly) behind your hands.
your cheeks instantly heat up, eyes glued to the way his hair falls so perfectly over his stormy eyes. sigh.
"oh you know," beth quips, always more willing to talk back to the man while you blush and oggle like a lovesick girl. she smiles, highly amused, "silly girl things."
daryl scoffs and then spits into the bushes. your heart flutters. "aint'ya too old for that crap? should make yourselves useful."he grunts. "learn something."
"funny you say that actually," beth is on her feet, dragging you up with her. "we were just talking about how there's so much we don't know," her eyes glow wickedly, a sharp contrast to her gentle voice. "do you think you could—"
"beth!" you hiss, eyes wide as you tug her back. "don't"
daryl stares, face blank. you shift under his gaze and his eyes narrow.
"out with it."
beth looks at him eagerly, giggle caught in her throat, while you look like a deer in the headlights, clutching desperately at your friend's arm. his cock twitches. "sorry mr. dixon, p-please ignore her."
he stares for a beat longer before he grunts and starts walking again, awkwardly due to the growing erection in his jeans. he can already tell the image his mind will conjure up when he's stroking his cock later that night. two sweet pairs of eyes, sugar and spice.
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not proofread bc im delirious with thoughts of licking this man's armpit :( 18+ MDNI
it happens as soon as he gets home. robby is barely past the front door before you're attached to him, arms wound tight around his waist, face buried in the thickness of his blue hoodie.
he chuckles, amused but not really surprised - one hand to the back of your head scratching gently at your scalp, the other hanging by his side, backpack still dangling from his fingers. "hi honey," a kiss to the top of your head, "missed you today. y' had a good day?"
the response he gets is muffled and whiny and slightly petulant - you're clinging like you want to crawl inside his body, right between his ribs, and burrow there forever. your nose digs at his armpit, desperate, and his grip tightens on your hair.
your eyes are glassy, lips spitty and pouty making his cock stir in his scrubs. "you know the drill," he murmurs, lips pressed indulgently to yours as he pats your back. his beard scratches so sweetly at your skin, and the thought of it against the sensitive skin of your thighs makes your tummy heat up. "not until I'm out of these scrubs."
there's probably a reason. of course there's a reason, you are painfully familiar. no sex or too much touching when he's in his hospital clothes. something he always stood by but especially after covid. but right now, you don't care. you would eat through the stupid fabric if it meant getting to the warm headiness of his body quicker.
there's something about it, his smell, behind the sterile scent that lingers from the hospital - his musk, his sweat, something that is so very him, so very man that you could come just by breathing it in.
"uh uh" he chastises as his backpack falls to the floor, free hand to your hip. patting and squeezing - both a promise and a warning. "two seconds, honey. shower and then I'm all your—"
"no" you whine, like he just threatened to walk out the door and never see you again. your arms wrap around his neck, half climbing up his frame like he's a goddamn tree. "no shower."
he laughs again, "what do yo—"
"no shower," you beg, part whine part growl. your face is against his neck now, tonguing at the veins that go up his throat, sucking at the spot under his jaw "please?"
he sighs, like a resigned father about to give in to a child's tantrum, but the thickness of his cock springing to attention against your thigh gives him away. his hands go to your ass, helping you up until he's carrying you further into the apartment. it's then that he notices you're wearing nothing but his t shirt and a pair of flimsy underwear. "you're ridiculous," he says, trying his best not to walk into the goddamn wall as he moves down the hall and into the bedroom.
your lips have free reign of his face while he concentrates. kissing his cheeks, lapping at his lips, licking into his mouth. but then you're in the air, falling on the mattress to watch your hot older boyfriend stare you down from the foot of the bed, making quick work of unzipping his hoodie. the grey in his beard makes your thighs squeeze.
he tuts again when you reach for him, a warning look locking you in place as he tosses the hoodie aside and starts on his scrubs. "you know better," he warns, though a hint of a smile teases at the corner of his mouth. "you can be good and wait, can't you? you know how to be good, honey, I know you do."
and bless your heart, you try so hard! hands under your butt while you wriggle needily on the mattress. there's a wet little patch on the crotch on your underwear already, and robby is no better than you.
you're both sick and perverted, because seeing it is all it takes before he's diving between your legs, nose buried in the fabric that hides your cunt, bumping against your clothed clit, tongue lapping at the wetness like your underwear is the only thing keeping water from him in the desert.
he breathes it in, sniffs and pants against you while you wriggle and chase his mouth with your hips. "please," you mewl, "please, please, please."
"alright," he gives in, finally, and kneels between your legs. he drags your panties down, tosses them away and kisses sweetly at your ankle, all the while keeping his eyes on your cunt. his fingers tease through the curls on your mound. he threads them through, tugs.
his cock is out, hard and shiny with precum as he slaps it down against your folds - his tip kissing at your clit with each tap tap tap.
your legs slide off his shoulders to wrap around his hips, heel digging into his ass as you pull him closer. "please," you're only ever this polite when you want to cum, "i've been good."
debatable, but he's only a man, and you're so fucking pretty. his biceps bracket your face as his cock pushes at your entrance. you kiss him again, fingers tugging and twirling at his beard, mouth slightly open panting for him, trying to nose at his armpit again. he breathes out a laugh, licks into your mouth. "eyes on me, sweetheart"
this thought struck me like lightning and i knew you’d understand:
cuddling up with robby at home. he’s in His Chair reading, he’s got the book in one hand, a cigarette in the other. you’re sitting with your legs slung over his lap, your head on his chest. your hand holds up the book from the other side. peaceful silence.
“can i try?” you mumble.
his brow furrows. “try what?”
“the cigarette.”
he smiles. “they’re not good for you.”
“you like them.”
he considers this. maybe a puff wouldn’t hurt. and besides, better with him than with someone else. someone who doesn’t have good intentions.
“alright. open up.”
and robby feels some type of way as you cough and sputter, eyes wide and watery, as you try and try again to get it right, to please him.
the second I read "His Chair" I knew it was gonna be GOOD !!! :3
I feel like he's so condescending about it, "not good for you," while he takes a drag and looks down his nose at you :(((( you beg so pretty though, so he finally gives in and holds the cigarette to your lips, "breathe in an—" he doesn't even get the words out before you're coughing up a lung </33 hand to your mouth, eyes watery and sad because you wanted to like it so bad!! you wanna be just like dad
robby is so smug, hands you his water and rubs your back while you try to get the coughing under control. "yeah? you gonna listen next time?" and you just pout because you wanted to impress him, tip your forehead into his collarbone and he smears a kiss on the top of your head.
he decides the next time he lets you try you'll be sitting on his cock, can't let a good squeeze go to waste
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