fuck it we ball

Gaza is still bleeding !!!!

Donation link for a family from Gaza

People keep saying there’s a ceasefire but every single day we wake up to another explosion, another family destroyed, another name added to the list of martyrs. I’m writing this because the world thinks Gaza is “calm” now.

It’s not. The bombs didn’t stop. The drones didn’t stop. The funerals didn’t stop.

During this so-called ceasefire, dozens of people were killed. Homes were burned. Children were pulled from under the rubble. You’ll see the photos I’m adding below - all taken during the “pause”. This is what our reality looks like.

My own family is suffering too. We lost relatives. We lost our home.

312 Palestinians have been killed, entire families wiped out during a time that was supposed to bring safety.!

Here is the donation link for my family’s emergency fund:

https://chuffed.org/project/145440-help-anass-family-survive-and-rebuild-after-gaza-war

If you can’t donate, please reblog, share, tag people.

Your support is literally life saving for us.

Thank you for not looking away.

Thank you for keeping Gaza alive in your heart.

Our account :

Medium

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Hill’s comments are a quote-retweet of Book Patrol (@ bookpatrol), who said: “The Cost of Reading in Prison: In West Virginia it’s 5 cents a minute bookpatrol.net/the-cost-of-re…” Attached is a photo of an incarcerated person sitting on the end of a bed leaning over an e-reader, with their head resting in their hand. In the background, one person sits on another of the many beds in the room, and another sleeps.

A lot of people know about the very first piece he did when he left the post which was the The Problem We All Live With which depicts Ruby Bridges walking to school under federal protection.

But I don’t think enough people know about Murder in Mississippi which depicts three real civil rights activists who were murdered by the Ku Klux Klan and sherriffs. The magazine ran the sketch instead of the finished piece because they felt it had a more striking statement to accompany the article. Norman Rockwell would finish that version after publication which is here

Rockwell’s legacy is sanitized because he decided to maintain his job at the Post for so long despite his frustrations with not being able to express himself. The civil rights movement was just his final straw to change what he could with the little time he had left. Look magazine received a lot of hate for Rockwell painting these as well.

Another favorite piece of mine is The Right to Know which depicts an integrated populace questioning their government. In 1968, the year of Vietnam and the year the Fair Housing Act only just got signed in months prior:

But I think it’s important to include the caption Rockwell originally wrote for the piece as well. I think it represents how a 74 year old Rockwell felt about the America he believed in and the people in it:

likely the most famous picture of a Thanksgiving dinner ever painted and you see it all the time.

What you may not know is its actual title

“Freedom From Want” it’s a part of a series of 4, including this now famous meme

“Freedom of Speech” These paintings were illustrations of FDR’s “Four Freedoms” speech where The President laid out a vision that would become what the Allies were fighting for in WWII universal human rights that became a part of the UN charter.

So this homey American Thanksgiving scene was also a bold statement that no one in the world should go hungry

This fic is also available on my AO3!

Pairing: Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Lan Wangji actually ends up visiting Lotus Pier, to Wei Wuxian’s extreme delight, and they share a tender moment lying on the dock under the stars. However, Wei Wuxian breaks their comfortable silence to make a wish that crushes Lan Wangji’s world.

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“Lan Zhan! You really came!” Wei Wuxian yells as he waves his hands and hurriedly makes his way to Lan Wangji. His bright smile, one that’s only on his face when Lan Wangji is around, is enough to nearly send the poor boy buckling to his knees. He grips Bichen tighter in hopes that it’ll help ground him, but he knows his ears have betrayed him when he feels their tips heat up. 

“Mn,” he says, bowing his head lightly.

“I really didn’t think you’d come, but I’m glad you’re here now. There’s so much to show you. Come, come!” Lan Zhan lets the boy grab his arm and whisk him away into the crowd of people, listening to him explaining all the food stalls and telling him which ones serve the best food and which ones to steer clear from.

“Oh, this place is delicious! Are you hungry? Let’s eat some; it’s on me.” He isn’t particularly hungry, but the look of pure joy on Wei Wuxian’s face as he goes to order them food is enough to keep his mouth shut.

The vendor hands him two rather large scallion pancakes and he quickly passes one to Lan Wangji. “Don’t worry!” he reassures. “I made sure to get you something good without meat.” The thoughtfulness makes his heart swell.

“Thank you,” he says and takes a bite. Compared to the food he’s seen at the other stalls, the pancake seems very mild. Still, it has a tasteful amount of flavor, and he finds himself immediately taking another bite. 

Right as he’s in the middle of chewing, Wei Wuxian asks, grinning, “Well? How is it?”

He finishes chewing and swallows before speaking. “Good.”

Wei Wuxian whines and leans into his side. Whenever Lan Wangji is by his side, he can always feel the heat radiating off the boy–but to feel that heat directly touching his arm, being more than just a quick bump or brush, sets his nerves ablaze. He takes another bite of the oily food to try and focus his mind on something other than their proximity.

“Good?! Come on, Lan Zhan, you gotta give me more than that!” The wrapper from his pancake is already crumbled in his hand while Lan Wangji still has half of his left.

“Very good.” 

Wei Wuxian straightens back up and it takes everything in him not to chase after that warmth. 

“You’re teasing me!” 

Lan Wangji finishes his pancake at last and neatly folds up the wrapper, discarding it in a trash bin as they pass by. The corners of his mouth quirk up the slightest bit and he replies, “I am.”

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“Let’s go for a swim!”

“No.”

“Come on! Don’t be so boring!”

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian humps and plops onto the edge of the dock, pouting at his reflection on the surface of the calm waters. Lotus flowers and pods decorate the lake, dancing smoothly in the slight breeze. The sun is beginning to set, and its golden hues cast a beautiful orange glow across the pier. It makes Wei Wuxian look even more stunning than before–though Lan Wangji would argue that that’s not possible. He always looks perfect, even when he’s pouting over something as inconsequential as swimming in the lake. 

Lan Wangji lets out a puff of air, equal to a sigh, and sits next to the pouting boy. He dips his hand into the water until his fingers are submerged and takes it out to dry on a small hand napkin tucked into his robes. The napkin is white with the Gusu Lan symbol embroidered on the soft fabric.

“I swam,” he exclaims as he folds the napkin neatly and slides it back under his robes.

Wei Wuxian, forgetting that he was just in a sour mood, turns his head and balks at the boy before breaking out into raucous laughter. Some would think it’s obnoxious, but it’s like music to Lan Wangji’s ears.

“Never in my life did I think you would be such a funny guy, Lan Zhan! You’re always so quiet and uptight that I didn’t think you had a single funny bone in you, but here you are making jokes, hahaha!” he replies, clutching his stomach and leaning into Lan Wangji’s side. The amount of self-restraint he has in his moment to not pounce on Wei Wuxian and send him into such a state of bliss that he can no longer talk would make his uncle proud–though the fact that the self-restraint is due to his deep desire towards the biggest troublemaker in Gusu would most definitely send him into a Qi deviation.  

Once calmed down from his fit of laughter, Wei Wuxian begins taking off his shoes, then his socks, and finally, his outer robes, minus his bottoms. “Well, you can have fun sitting all alone on this dock while I have the time of my life in the lake.” And with that, he hops off the edge and dives into the crisp water. 

Lan Wangji watches him, a small part of his brain wishing he took his bottoms off too.

He immediately begins reciting the Lan Clan’s Rules in his head. 

Wei Wuxian swims around for a bit, calling out to Lan Wangji occasionally saying, “Lan Zhan, look! Watch me!” and doing some sort of trick. Lan Wangji watches him–as if he’s the only being in the world–as the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of orange, pink, and gold across the sky and turning it into a watercolor painting. He watches as Wei Wuxian slowly approaches him with his face half submerged and a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hair which was once in a ponytail now cascades down his head like a waterfall and flows behind him. His head dips below the surface and he disappears completely–not even a shadow can be seen.

Lan Wangji leans forward to peer closer into the still water. “Wei Ying?” he asks, hoping for the boy to somehow hear him from the depths of the lake. After a few moments of silence and still no Wei Wuxian, he grows panicked and clutches at the edge of the dock to lean even further. 

Just as his hair begins to slip over his shoulder, a pair of hands break through the surface and arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into the warm water. Without thinking, he opens his eyes and is met with a grinning Wei Wuxian. His arms are still wrapped around his neck, but Lan Wangji’s body refuses to move. Wei Wuxian’s hair floats in the water surrounding his face, and the rays from the setting sun light up his face in such a magical way that if Lan Wangji wasn’t already holding his breath, he’d be doing so until his face turned purple.

Wei Wuxian stares intently at Lan Wangji and looks down at his arms which are still loosely hung around the boy’s neck. He immediately withdraws them–much to Lan Wangji’s chagrin–and blows out a stream of bubbles as he rises to the surface. Lan Wangji follows immediately after. 

When he breaks through the surface, Wei Wuxian breaks out into melodious laughter, and he hisses, “Wei Ying!” 

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The stars shine brightly now, and the full moon makes Wei Wuxian look ethereal. His eyes are closed and a gentle smile is on his lips. He looks almost like a doll–a doll that Lan Wangji would have sitting pretty on his shelf, never to be touched by anyone but him. Even with his still-damp hair and air-dried clothes that are too wrinkled for Lan Wangji’s comfort, he still looks so pretty.

Lan Wangji stares, transfixed, at his beauty, ignoring the droplets of water that still drip down his face from his forehead ribbon. His heart beats a million miles a minute, threatening to break through his rib cage and lay his feelings bare to the boy lying next to him. His eyes trace the sharp, but also soft, outline of Wei Wuxian’s jaw until they land on his plump lips, and he has to tear his eyes away before he does something regrettable and against his clan’s rules. 

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes and lets out a content sigh as Lan Wangji glares at the night sky, clenching his jaw and chastising himself in his head.

“You know, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, breaking the silence. “I always thought stargazing was boring when I did it with Jiang Cheng, even when he’d make a competition out of seeing how many wishes we could make on the stars.” Wei Wuxian turns his entire body to face him, resting his head on his bent arm. His voice is quiet, quieter than it has ever been, and it holds a softness that Lan Wangji has only ever heard directed towards him. The thought makes his heart skip a beat and the tips of his ears burn. “But it’s funny; being here with you makes me want to do it every night for the rest of my life.”

Lan Wangji feels his heart skip a beat. He turns his head sharply and stares into Wei Wuxian’s eyes–they’re shining as bright as the moon, and he decides at that moment that they could be their own constellation. His fingers twitch at his sides, itching to grab the boy’s sun-kissed cheeks and cradle them gently.

Wei Wuxian looks at him deeply, as if he’s memorizing every shape, every line, of his face. Lan Wangji takes this opportunity to let his eyes trail once more, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop, telling him that he shouldn’t be having such thoughts about another boy. Their eyes eventually meet once more. 

As they stare at one another, the world around them fades away until it’s just them and the blanket of stars above. It’s well past curfew, but Lan Wangji doesn’t dare move, especially now–especially not after that. He feels giddy, like a child who was just told an exciting piece of news. He wants to say something, anything, but all that’s on his mind is him, him, him. 

“Wei Ying,” he breathes. He wants to say more, to let everything out, clan rules be damned, but when Wei Wuxian’s eyelids lower and his gaze makes its way to Lan Wangji’s lips, he suddenly feels bare–as if he’s displayed on a pedestal and Wei Wuxian is studying him like he’s a hand-carved statue, seeing through his stone exterior into the mess of emotions that is inside, threatening to chip its way out. He swallows instead and goes silent. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and the damp robes that still cling to him in places become even more noticeable.

Wei Wuxian’s smile slowly fades and his face turns serious as his eyes drop to Lan Wangji’s lips.  “Lan Zhan, I…” he trails off and licks his own lips. Lan Wangji wonders what it would feel like to kiss them, what it would feel like with their bodies entwined. Wei Wuxian’s voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks again and he looks troubled. “I wish you were a girl.”

Lan Wangji freezes, and his heart shatters into a million microscopic pieces.

Oh. 

Right, of course.

How foolish of him to believe there was any possibility that something could happen between the two. Wei Wuxian likes girls; that is an obvious fact. But there was some hope, some small part in Lan Wangji’s mind that thought maybe, just maybe, he also had an interest in men. Even if it was just a little bit. 

But of course, he was wrong–how utterly shameful of him to think it could be, to make assumptions about another person’s preferences like he has done. Not even copying the rules while doing a handstand would be enough to atone for what he has done.  

Wei Wuxian rolls away so that he’s staring back up at the sky and laughs dryly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I told you that.”

“It is all right.”