GAZA NEEDS YOU. DON'T LOOK AWAY. YOU CAN SAVE LIVES. Below Are Some VETTED Campaigns To Support The People

GAZA NEEDS YOU. DON'T LOOK AWAY. YOU CAN SAVE LIVES. Below are some VETTED campaigns to support the people who have been experiencing an active genocide for almost a full year. DONATE DONATE DONATE. If you cannot, share widely.

(June 1)

Help Iyad and his family (@iyadsobhei) - Iyad is an elderly man who has been living in dire conditions with deteriorating health; he needs to evacuate with his wife and eight children. This fundraiser currently has NO FUNDS.

Help evacuate Hani's family (@skatehani) - A dear friend, and a Palestinian skater trying to evacuate 10 members of his family; he has lost his father to injustice. Less than halfway to his goal.

Help Husam and his family (@husamthaher) - Husam desperately needs to save himself, his wife, and 3 young children.

Ahmd needs urgent evacuation (@ahmd-iyd) - Ahmd has lost his livelihood to this genocide, and needs funds to help his family evacuate and rebuild their life.

Help Mahmoud Abu Hamam and his family (@ma7moudgaza) - A college student who desperately needs to evacuate to Egypt.

Help Iman’s family find safety (@imaneyad) - Iman has a family of 7 who need to find safety.

Help Mahmoud's family evacuate (@mahmoud0qassas) - Mahmoud and his family need to get to Egypt. His brother in law needs medical attention ASAP.

Support Ruba and Amal's family's urgent evacuation (@rubashaban @amalshabn) - Ruba and Amal's family are lacking the basic necessities of life; they have an elderly father who desperately needs to be evacuated for medical care.

Help Omar evacuate (@omarsobhi) - Omar is a 20 year old Palestinian student who wants to save himself and his family from this genocide.

Support Fahmi and his family (@fahmiakkila) - Fahmi's life has been turned completely upside down, and he now finds himself responsible to save his parents, sisters, & brothers - 7 members.

Save a displaced Gazan Family (@ranibra) - Rania is married with five children, her husband needs medical care. She is now responsible to save her children. Help them evacuate.

Save little Yusuf and his family (@ahmednabubake) - Yusuf is in an intensive care unit fighting for his life in Gaza; he needs urgent evacuation alongside his family.

Save a family trapped in Gaza (@mohamedalanqer) - Mohammed Alanqar and his family are living in fear, urgently needing financial assistance to escape to a safer environment.

Help Gazan children survive (@aymanayyad81) - Fadi Ayyad, an 18-year-old from Gaza seeks the funds to help his family survive these gruesome conditions.

Save Tawfik and his family (@tawfikwaleef) - Tawfik is an engineer from Gaza who urgently needs to escape Gaza with his family.

Help Tahseen and his family (@tahseenmush) - Tahseen and his family are from northern Gaza and need urgent help to survive this genocide.

Help Nader's family to evacuate from Gaza (@nadershoshaa) - Nader and his family, consisting of six members, are currently displaced in the south; help them evacuate and survive.

Don't ignore this list—your support is URGENTLY needed. Each fundraiser here is an opportunity to help, and it has been made easy for you to find these fundraisers. You can easily save lives. Pick at least one to support. Once again, your donation can save lives. If you can't donate, please share these campaigns.

FIND MORE CAMPAIGNS HERE

إذا انت من غزة و بدك إضافتك إلى القائمة التالية - اضغط هنا

No thoughts just one half of larry showing their form of jealousy when someone else touches their man

🎶 It ain't easy being of the jealous kind 🎶

Harrys jealous love language was I must physically touch louis so everyone knows he's mine 🌟

Louis jealous love language was giving "the look" and a few choice words 🙃

Mouth Full Of White Lies

From this prompt by @impishtubist . It's un beta'd, so don't be too critical. ao3

.

Remus cannot do this.

He doesn't have the strength— the courage.

Sirius sits in the armchair front of him, slender fingers wrapped around a mug full of Irish coffee and pitch black hair pulled back into a messy bun, looking as comfortable and relaxed as if he was sitting on a cushioned throne. He stares out of the window, wearing a snug cream coloured jumper and one foot pulled up to the seat. Something twists in Remus' chest, but he cannot pull his eyes away from Sirius' face. He takes in the sharp angles and the arched eyebrows, the grey eyes and the relaxed line of his lips, the few flicks of his hair that fall over his forehead as he looks down into his mug when he takes a sip. Sirius looks anywhere but at Remus.

Remus doesn't know how to do this.

Without Harry around to act as a buffer, Remus feels the tension crawling up his spine slowly but surely, and it's worsened by the fact that he cannot tell if Sirius is feeling the same or not.

It has been eight days since Remus arrived at Grimmauld Place with Harry in tow, and in all that time, he has taken great care not to be caught alone in a room with Sirius.

Clearly, he went wrong somewhere, because here they were— alone together in the second floor parlour.

Remus swallows. Digs his fingers into the armrest of his chair.

"Padfoot—"

"Don't."

Sirius did not raise his voice. He did not say it in a hostile manner. He did not even look at Remus. That hurts more than Remus thinks it should.

"Sirius, I—"

"Don't, Lupin."

Remus flinches, feeling the words dig into his heart like he's been slapped. Sirius has not called him by his last name since the November of their first year at Hogwarts. After that, it was always Remus, Remi, Moony, Moons, Froot Lupes, any other nickname he could come up with. Not Lupin. Never Lupin.

"Padfoot, I'm sorry—"

"Lupin." Sirius finally looks at him. Remus flinches again, curling his shoulders into himself at the expression in his eyes. Or rather, the lack of expression. Sirius' face is blank, and his eyes are colder than a blizzard. He looks down his nose at Remus through lowered eyelids, the set of his eyebrows making it seem like he is utterly, completely indifferent to this conversation, like he does not give a single shit about what Remus has to say.

"I don't want to hear anything from you. If we must spend time together, we spend it in silence. Understood?"

Remus gives him a beseeching look, but Sirius doesn't waver in his decision, and Remus casts his gaze into his lap.

They sit in silence. Remus does not look back at Sirius, and Sirius relaxes into the soft padding of his armchair.

"I really am sorry, Sirius," Remus says quietly after a few seconds, fidgeting with his own fingers in his lap.

"I really don't care, Lupin."

Remus huffs and lifts his chin to stare at Sirius' impassive face. "It was wrong of me to leave you in Azkaban and I know it—"

"This," Sirius interrupts in a deceptively soft voice, "is not about my imprisonment."

Remus feels a chill travel down his spine. Still, he swallows down his urge to cut the discussion short. For once, he is not going to run away. For once, he will stay, and he will see this talk through.

"Then what is it about?"

Sirius looks at him like Remus hasn't an ounce of sense in his brain— the kind of disdainful and judgemental look he used to reserve for the students of Hogwarts who were not as smart as him or James. Remus feels the point of a dagger dig into his heart.

"Harry, Lupin," he says, and the icy frost that covers his tone makes the dagger pierce even deeper. "This is about my godson."

Remus grits his teeth, a sudden wave of annoyance rising up his throat. "I told you, Sirius, a werewolf is not capable of taking care of a child—"

"You could have visited him," Sirius cuts him off, and Remus hates how calm he looks, hates the way Sirius looks at him like he isn't worth his time. He hates the way his mind whispers in his ear about the school days when Sirius became eerily calm and composed, when he got that thunderstorm glint in his grey eyes that meant he was out for someone's cold blooded annihilation. "You could have checked up on him. You could have wrangled a deal out of the Hell-flower that made it impossible for her to harm my godson the way she did—"

"I HAD NO CHOICE!"

Remus is on his feet now, glaring at Sirius, who simply reclines back in his seat and still manages to look down his nose at Remus. The expression is so similar to the times in school when Sirius eviscerated someone with nothing but his whip-quick tongue that it makes Remus' blood boil. He hates the way Sirius is so.. so calm and collected. He wants Sirius to scream at him, yell at him, throw shit around and rage at him.

"Everyone always has a choice," Sirius answers coldly. "You had the time to make one— you had twelve years to make a choice. You didn't."

Remus breathes in, then breathes out, and the air that leaves him feels hot with anger. He glares at Sirius, clenching his fingers into fists and locking them down to his sides.

"You don't understand—" he grits out, but Sirius cuts him off again, the expression on his face growing colder with every word he utters. "Oh no, of course I don't. I have no idea what it's like to be a werewolf. That doesn't change the fact that you left Harry there. You left him there. James' child. The child we swore to protect—"

"I did no such thing."

The moment the words leave his lips, Remus knows he has fucked up.

Sirius shuts his mouth with a decisive click of his teeth, face going blank and unreadable. He stares at Remus, nothing showing through the mask he has snapped into place. Remus feels the dread trickle down his throat like freezing cold water, and he scrambles for words the longer the silence goes on, trying to find ways to fix this, to make it better, to get Sirius to understand.

"Sirius, I—"

"I suggest you stop speaking before I rip out your tongue and strangle you with it."

Remus snaps his jaw shut with an audible clack of his teeth at the flat tone of voice. Sirius is very much capable of carrying out that threat and both of them know it.

"Get out of my sight, Lupin."

Remus swallows down the seven replies his mind comes up with and twists on his heel, stiffly walking towards the door. When he is about to shut the door behind him, Sirius speaks again.

"You're not Moony to me. I am not Padfoot to you. You will refer to me as Black, I won't answer to any other name. And stay away from my godson."

Remus let's out a shaky breath. Nods. And steps out, pulling the door shut behind him.

This is actually pretty scary hahah💚🩵

Hi! First, I just want to say that you are my favorite ao3 author <3 Can you do one where James starts getting suspicious of Sirius after he starts avoiding him. James thinks that it was because Sirius found out about his feelings and was uncomfortable about his pining but it turns out that he was hiding his injuries from his abusive parents? Hurt/comfort pls

((A/N: In line with the prompt, this mentions child abuse))

Sirius is avoiding him. It's obvious, and James kind of wants to grab his best mate and sit on him so he can't escape, but he has a sinking feeling that he knows why Sirius is avoiding him-- and that's much worse than being confused. A few weeks ago, he realised that he’s in love with Sirius. It's impossible to avoid thinking about, since they spend so much time together, and James? James doesn't do subtle. He didn't say anything to Sirius about his feelings, but it must’ve been obvious. He knows that he stares too much and gets lost in daydreams, and his expression doesn't hide anything.

He's in love with Sirius, and while he would like to date Sirius-- and marry him, but that might be even more terrifying for him to say aloud, if pining alone scared Sirius off-- he's not willing to sacrifice their friendship for it. He also knows that his feelings for Sirius aren't going to evaporate, so when Sirius starts to avoid him, James lets it happen. It'll give Sirius the space he wants, and-- he hopes-- the time to get used to the idea so that they can go back to being mates like nothing happened.

Except it doesn't happen.

Sirius isn't avoiding him completely, but it's far from being attached at the hip like they usually are. After three weeks of being bored out of his skull with all his time alone, James decides that enough is enough. He'll apologise for his feelings and let Sirius know that he doesn't expect anything from him, and then they can go back to normal. They've never had to deal with a weird patch like this, so he isn't sure that it'll go as smoothly as that, but why would things go worse? No point in thinking about it, he decides.

It's a night where there's no Quidditch practice and neither of them have detention, so James grabs the Marauders' Map and finds Sirius's stationary footprints just outside the castle walls, near the greenhouses. He is really hiding out to be over there-- they'd long since discovered that sound traveled too well by those buildings, and as such, don't hang out there.

James tucks the Map inside his robes, grabs the Invisibility Cloak, and leaves.

It is- well, it is weird for Sirius to be this upset about James fancying him, isn't it? His feelings should've made things awkward, not made Sirius run away for a few weeks just to avoid dealing with it. Maybe something else is going on with Sirius, and he just hadn't noticed because he was so sure the problem was his feelings. That would be- not better, really, but at least it wouldn't be James's fault.

James pulls off the Cloak as he gets close and folds it over his arm. "Enjoying the view?"

Sirius jumps in surprise, but he relaxes the instant he sees who it is. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he says, waving a hand half-heartedly at the view of the buildings surrounding them. 

"Better than the Black Lake." James sits down next to him, not thinking to keep his distance. Their arms bump together as he sits, and Sirius withdraws with a jerk. "Er."

Sirius looks down at the ground, as if ashamed of his reaction.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he repeats with a frown.

"I didn't think me fancying you would make you so uncomfortable, but- look, Padfoot, I gave you a few weeks like you wanted, but us not being friends anymore is ridiculous, don't you think?"

"You fancy me?"

"Yeah, isn't that what this is about?" James asks, gesturing vaguely at Sirius and the greenhouses.

Sirius looks up, meeting his eyes. The moon is nearly full, so there's enough light to see his expression-- he looks heartbroken. "No. Merlin, no, I had no idea."

That's a relief that can't be overstated, easing the pain that had been gripping James's chest ever since this started. But if it's not him that made Sirius keep his distance, then what is it? He casts his mind out for an answer, but nothing jumps out. "Then what's going on?"

Sirius continues to look at him, then slowly leans in. It's obvious what he's doing as he reaches for James and their faces line up, but he can't quite believe that it's happening until their lips meet. "I wish you'd told me sooner," he breathes, then kisses James again.

James feels like he's floating. Each kiss Sirius gives him feel like this can't be real because it's so good. How is this happening? Ten minutes ago, he'd been sure that this was impossible and now... Merlin, now Sirius is holding onto him like he wants him and it makes the last few weeks feel like they never happened.

Only, when they stop kissing and decide to head back to the dormitory, James realises that Sirius never explained his avoidance. The Map is open in front of them, easing the way to Gryffindor Tower. James is the one navigating, so when he stops walking, Sirius does the same. He looks over and asks, "Why were you avoiding me the past few weeks? I thought it was because I fancy you, but you said it's not." 

Sirius swallows and doesn't meet his eyes. He's never been good at lying to James, and now is no different. "It's nothing."

"It didn't feel like nothing. The only reason I let it happen is because I thought it was my fault, but it wasn't. So, spill."

Nothing.

James puts an arm around Sirius's shoulders, but it's not the casual way he usually does it-- it's to stop him from running away. He starts walking again and drags Sirius along with him. He's not exactly sure how to make Sirius answer him. Sirius doesn't keep things from him, so he never needed to learn how. It means that he doesn't know what to do to make Sirius tell him but they're still best friends; he knows him pretty damn well. And right now, Sirius is unreasonably tense, in a way he's not when James is the one touching him. Unbidden, his mind retrieves the memory of when a bludger had taken Sirius out during a game; there had been a firm tension to his body then, too... identical to the way he's holding himself now. James grits his teeth but doesn't let go. "Are you hurt?"

For a moment, Sirius winds himself even tighter, and it feels like he's going to shatter, but then he breathes out, loosening fraction by fraction. It doesn't leave him relaxed, but he no longer looks like he's going to snap in two. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd freak out. It's not a big deal, it's just taking longer to heal than I thought."

James ignores the comment about him freaking out. "How'd you get hurt?"

"...It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, you said that. How'd you get hurt?" he repeats, even though he has the uneasy feeling that he already knows. After all, who else could it be? Anybody else, and Sirius would've been able to defend himself; anybody else, and James would've already hexed their bollocks off.

Sirius clenches his jaw and says nothing, but they share a look that says it all: his parents.

James loosens his hold around Sirius's shoulders; now that he's not going to run away, there's no point in holding on so tight. He licks his lips as he tries to think of how to phrase the offer. "D'you want me to take a look?"

"No," he says, recoiling with wide eyes.

"I'm decent at Healing, and you're pants at it. Maybe I can help a little."

Sirius doesn't immediately tell him 'no' again; James wants to think of it as a victory, but it probably means that he's hurt badly enough that he doesn't mind-- as much-- if James sees him like that. He hates to be vulnerable, James knows. There's further hesitation before he says, "Only if you promise not to... be all James about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You get all... I dunno, panicky. I'm not going to Madame Pomfrey, and I don't want to hear you suggest it."

James knows he's going to regret this but, "I promise."

"And I want to snog when you're done worrying," he adds with a smirk.

James rolls his eyes, feigning an aloofness he doesn't feel. "You've a one track mind, don't you?"

"I'm prioritizing."

They banter back and forth as they walk to the dormitory, only quieting as they near the Fat Lady and don the Invisibility Cloak. James is as aware as ever about how close they are when they're both under it. As kids, they fit comfortably. Now that they've grown into themselves, it's less silly shuffling and learning to walk at the same time, and more James trying to control his body's natural reaction at being so close to Sirius.

The common room is empty, allowing them to pull off the Cloak. Sirius shoots him a knowing smirk, and he blushes. He doesn't want to, but he's caught out and there's no point in lying to Sirius, of all people. He can tell, as they trek up the stairs, that Sirius is hoping he'll lose focus. He wants for James to forget all about his injury-- injuries? he doesn't know and he's scared-- but it will take more than this to distract him. Even though it is a very... tempting distraction. Merlin, he needs to get his head on straight.

They're both lightfooted as they walk around the room, not wanting to wake their dormmates. They dress for bed, and Sirius joins James in his bed without question. James was a perfect gentleman when they were changing and didn't sneak a look at the injuries Sirius was hiding, but now the curtains are spelled to give them privacy, and Sirius is delaying taking off his shirt. He toys with the drawstring of his bottoms before heaving a sigh.

"Remember that you promised not to freak out," he mutters as he off his shirt.

For a moment, James worries that he'll be so busy checking him out that he won't be paying adequate attention to how hurt Sirius is. That worry vanishes the second his eyes take in the extent of the damage laid on Sirius's torso. 

With the reminder of his promise fresh in his mind, he holds back the rage that boils to life. He clenches his hands, fingers curled in so tightly they might stay that way. Magical injuries always look the worst. A bruise from banging into a door doesn't look the same as a bruise from a curse. Something about the tint of it makes it feel more sickly, and with the numerous ones on Sirius, highlighted by the occasional bandage, it's like a plague.

"Are-" James has to stop and clear his throat. When he tries again, he sounds much more in control. "Are those cuts?" he asks, gesturing to the bandages.

Sirius nods, jaw tight.

"I'll see what I can do for those. And I've got that extra-strength cream for bruises that we can use on the rest."

Sirius nods again and gingerly peels off the tape for one of his bandages so James can take a better look, then lays down and waits. He's tense but trying so hard not to be. It's obvious that he wants to cover up again, but he keeps his eyes safely out of the way and lets James work.

Reading about the different kinds of injuries was a lot more fun than seeing them right in front of him. Learning about it all sent a thrill through him-- the knowledge he had that others didn't, the power to heal what others couldn't. Seeing Sirius hurt just makes him want to hurl. There's no excitement to it. There's no comfort that he'll feel better at the end of this.

He touches Sirius carefully and warns before he casts any spell. He tries half a dozen, hoping for any noticeable change. His eyes strain from peering so closely, and he only calls it to an end when he feels himself tiring from all the magic in such a short time. He pulls off his glasses with a grimace and rubs at his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't do more."

"It's alright. I feel loads better," Sirius says, and it doesn't even sound like a lie.

James opens his eyes and looks at the slightly blurry figure with a flat expression. "You don't look any better now than when I started."

"I dunno if it looks any different, but it does feel better." He puts a hand on James's knee and strokes back and forth with his thumb. "Thanks."

James makes a vague noise of acknowledgment and lays down, facing him. He's close enough like this that his features are clear, even without the glasses.

Sirius turns so he's on his side, their faces scant inches apart. 

Given their conversation earlier, James half-expects for Sirius to kiss him. He can't believe he's thinking it, but he doesn't want him to. He doesn't want to be exhausted from magic and anger at Sirius's parents when they snog; it should be happy, like they are when they're together. 

"Promise you won't be angry about it in the morning?"

"If you think that's possible, then you don't know me," James replies with a smile, that Sirius reflects.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he snickers. "I'll take a raincheck on that other promise. I still want to snog my new boyfriend." 

"But not now?" James checks. He doesn't want to right now either-- thinks it would be a bad idea if they did-- but he wants to be sure.

"Not now," Sirius confirms, looking soft around the edges. "Though..." He hesitates, then leans forward and gently presses their lips together. It's only for a few seconds, and it's clear this is the most they're going to do tonight; it's the most either of them want to do after that. He rolls over carefully, then scoots back so James can hold him. 

They've slept like this before, with James holding onto him like a stuffie. He hesitates because of Sirius's injuries, but that's taken care of a moment later when Sirius grabs his arm and pulls it over his waist, interlocking their fingers and hugging James's hand to his chest.

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)