After I Break Ghosteye's Arm And Steal That Key From Your Neck, I'm Gonna Wear Your Butt On My Foot Like

I am Mohammed Alanqer married from Enas Majed we have 3 children

Amidst the ongoing war in Gaza, we find ourselves as a family trapped between walls of fear and despair. I, Mohammed, a father of three children and a husband to a woman in her eighth month of pregnancy, live in an environment filled with threats and risks.

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My technology startup, which I built with dedication and hard work, was destroyed during this war, leading to the loss of our livelihood. My children, Layan, Sarah, and Adam, no longer have the opportunity for education due to the destruction of schools, posing a significant threat to their future.

- "A souvenir photo of my startup company."-

My wife, Enas, lives in constant anxiety due to her advanced pregnancy and the destruction of hospitals in the area. After losing my job and source of income, I find myself in a severe financial crisis, unable to provide for the needs and safety of my family.

- "Me and my wife Enas majed "

Our family home was destroyed due to the war, forcing us to flee and move multiple times, leaving us homeless. Everything has become difficult now; we cannot provide a safe place to live, nor can we afford clean clothes and food for our children. Additionally, our children have been afflicted with diseases such as measles, and our son Adam has been diagnosed with viral hepatitis.

-" layan & sara & adam in the war" -

Our only hope now is to escape from this ongoing hell and find a safe haven for our family. However, this requires exorbitant financial costs, with the coordination fee for crossing borders amounting to $5000 per adult and $2500 per child, a sum I cannot afford alone.

- "My home before the war "-

We urgently appeal for your moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs for escaping to a safe environment, where we can build a better future for our children and ensure the safety of our family

Thank you for your attention and support, and we hope you can help us in these difficult circumstances.

Thanks 😊@nabulsi 🙏❤️

Thanks 😊 @communistchilchuck ♥️🙏

Going to be a dick in this post but myself and a lot of writers have had enough.

So, I am going to go ahead delete a load of requests people have sent in because since I’ve done some requests, 90% of yous (who have sent me in a request) have actually never interacted with my work so why should I write something for you? Must have mug written on my blog.

Obviously I won’t delete anonymous ones because who knows but hang your heads if you’ve requested something from me and not once in the last two-three months reblogged any of my work.

“I love all your work” Okay, then reblog.

“Your writings so good” Okay, then reblog.

“Please can you write this, I love your fics” Okay, then REBLOG.

“I can’t believe you do this for free” REBLOG REBLOG

Am I being petty? Um, yes. Do I care? Nope.

I know I should write for enjoyment but I write because I like seeing people enjoying my work. Also, it’s brilliant motivation. To see my 8k Crosshair fic flop after people asked it to be done in one big part is sooooo boring and annoying to see. It’s a waste of energy that I sadly do not have anymore.

I love the fandom but a lot of you make it hard to enjoy when you do not support those who are trying to keep it alive.

yall cant tell me this man wouldn’t find the nuclear sign memes funny

was originally a screencap redraw but i am but a weakwilled man

one wip of many on a larger sketchpage that i hope to finish by next week :3 gna post lil snips (hah) here and there

THE CLONE WARS 4.05: Mercy Mission

hyperfixations BACK babey!!

rip my apple pencil tip but yay sketchbook page

closeups under da cut

dont mind me ive been an emotional wreck since last saturday

whats this?

(BANGS HEAD AGAINST THE TOWN CHURCH BELL) HEAR YE HEAR YE CLONE FUCKERS

im back :P

cw: swearing, mild nsfw (over the clothes! make room for jesus!)

mando'a ->

galaar(s) - hawk(s)

You spun the cockpit chair around and faced the wastes once more. The events of the last few hours rippled through your brain, sending little shockwaves down your spine. Nothing about today was what you expected, nor anything you could’ve planned for. And that excited you. Echo excited you.

The door whooshing open cut off your thoughts.

“I do hope that my companionship tonight isn’t a disturbance.” A cold, matter of fact voice spoke from behind you.

“If you’re any warmer than Crosshair, you ain’t got nothing to worry about.” You reply, slightly turning your head to see Tech appear in your peripheral.

The man let out a small huff from his nose and sat down in the pilot’s chair, pulling a datapad out from a bag on his waist. He settled further back into the chair, becoming almost instantly absorbed in an article about Force-knows-what.

You sat back into your own chair sheepishly, unsure of how to maneuver with this Batch mate. Tech seems rather detached, and, to you, seemingly removed from the need for companionship. Granted, you were wrong, but how would you know that? But this alleged detachment did nothing to stop you, in fact it spited you to try and make friends with Echo’s brother. Everyone else seems to find you decent, for kriff’s sake.

Here goes nothing.

“What’chya reading?” You pipe up, rather abruptly. Tech looks up from his datapad and out the windows, not making eye contact.

“I overheard you mention Shriek-Hawks to Echo earlier and I wanted to familiarize myself with them. I’m impressed.”

You stuck out your lower lip and nodded. Not what you were expecting, that’s for sure.

“I’m surprised. The way Echo described you I would’ve expected you to rattle off facts about those damn galaars.”

Tech dipped his head. “Not necessarily. My closest encounter with them is the insignia on a former clone captain’s helmet.”

That shot your head up. You turned and peeked over at the clone, who was still focused on his surroundings. Mildly incredulous, you spoke. “Who was badass enough to earn Jaig Eyes?”

“CT-7567, Captain Rex. Bestowed to him by your people training mine on Kamino.” He replied, finally turning to look at you. “Does this bother you?”

You tilted your head slightly to the left. “Not at all. I don’t doubt the clones’ abilities,” You say, gesturing to the man in front of you and the ship you were both in. “Just those of us planetside didn’t hear much about the trainers that were shipped off to Kamino.”

Tech nodded in understanding, bringing a hand up to his chin to ponder. “That doesn’t surprise me. Even on the Republic side much of those records were either sealed, archived, or outright deleted.”

You both let out a collective sigh.

“As much as I enjoy learning history from a real person that it impacted, it does make me sad that none of this will be in written history in 5 years.” You say in a low voice.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He replied glumly.

With that, both of you resolved to an agreeable silence, only broken by Tech’s occasional taps onto his ‘pad. As quickly as the silence came, so too did the thoughts of the clone who only recently departed from your company.

The feeling of Echo’s back pushed against your chest was the first to make itself known. How he would occasionally lean back into the touch if he was on a rather straight strip of limestone. A warm, blossoming feeling extended out from your ribcage. Not one that tied your stomach in knots and made you worry about your hair or if you said something dumb. It was one that felt like a warm blanket, one woven by hand with good intentions in every stitch. Something more real, more tangible, more safe. Echo made you feel safe.

Wait, what?

That realization was slightly weightier than you were expecting to have about someone you met less than 12 hours ago. And that warm chest feeling? Quickly made its way to your stomach.

You swallowed quickly, not letting anything leave your stomach by either route. “Hey Tech? Y’all got a refresher aboard this thing?” You try your hardest to not let your voice give you away.

“Down the hall to the left, right before the bunks. Let me know if you need anything.” The latter half of that sentence was barely audible as you speed walked towards the other side of the ship, throwing a quick “Thanks!” over your shoulder as you went.

To the left, just before the bunks.

You mentally reminded yourself, trying to not let yourself spiral.

You can’t catch feelings this quickly, not again.

The words are murky in your head, lost in the sound of blood rushing through your ears. Before you realize, you’ve shut the door and you’re gripping the metal sink in front of you as if it’s the only thing tethering you planetside.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly tipping your head upwards to steal a glance at yourself in the mirror.

Get a fucking grip dude.

One moment to yourself, and you’re thinking about how his touch felt? Two moments into THAT and you’re about ready to hurl up the Mantell Mix that Omega force fed you.

You turn the faucet on with both handles. Best case scenario, you have lukewarm water to slap your face with. Worst case, something to muffle the sound of you hurling. You try to cup some water, but something in you relaxes your hands and allows the water to run through your fingers. You stare at it, unreacting. You slowly recoil your hands, slinking down to the floor as you do so. Your back finds purchase on the cold, durasteel wall, unchanging from every other part of the ship you’ve since discovered. In a way, it’s comforting. You know what to expect with ships. Unemotional, cold, hunks of metal that’ll eventually blow or go up and need maintaining and tending to. Those are easy to fix.

Not like I was taught to fix much else anyhow. Dunno what I expect out of myself.

You slumped further into the wall, tilting your head back and trying to even out your breathing. Slowly, yet surely, you were leveling out your own heart rate and coming back down.

And then someone had to politely rap on the bathroom door.

You immediately shot up to your feet. You shook your head in the mirror, trying to set your curls in a less frantic looking manner. You shook the last of the water droplets from your hands and tapped the control panel.

The door whooshed open, and you were greeted by a pair of soft, worry-filled eyes. Echo’s shoulders slumped a little bit when he processed what he was seeing.

“Did Tech say something weird? I promise, he didn’t mean anything by–”

“What? No! No, no.” You interrupted, eyes wide. “Can we talk?”

Echo’s brows furrowed together, but he relented. He stepped into the now-smaller bathroom, and looked at you patiently.

You sat down and crossed your legs, and looked at the man expectantly. He followed your lead.

“So, what did I do?”

“Echo, you didn’t do anything. Tech didn’t do anything. The only one that I can really hold anything against is Crosshair but I’m getting the perception that he’s just like that.” You reply quickly, waving your hand at your companion dismissively.

“Oh.” He replied bluntly, cocking his head slowly. He did not know how to proceed.

“I, uh, think I wanna do this with you again. But that kind of scares me.” You say sheepishly, staring holes into the floor in front of you. “I don’t know what that’s going to look like, and I don’t even know how it’d work, and I don’t even know if you want to. But I like you, and I’d rather tell you than hurl all over your bathroom.”

Echo’s eyes went wider with each passing word. The ramifications of what you had said were whirling through his head, forcing your words to hang in the air. Though you scanned his face for any emotion, all you could parse was he was deep in thought. You immediately deflated. You knew it was too early, too fast, too soon. Like every other single time. What were you thinking? You said it yourself, you barely know the m—

Echo grabbed your hand and yanked you from your thoughts.

“I like you too. I thought I was being crazy, ‘cus we just met, but, you feel different. I feel like you see me, and I’d really like the chance to be able to see you.”

Your gaze broke from the floor and met his head on. Bright pink bloomed from your ears and rippled across your cheeks.

“Now you’re not just saying that so you don’t have to pay for more speeder parts, right?” You goad, lowering your eyelids and letting your lashes dance in front of your eyes. Your confidence was careening back in, and you trade out your usual joking tone for something a bit more flirtatious.

“..No.” Echo cleared his throat. Oh he likes eye contact huh? “I’m trying to work my way up to getting a hyperdrive out of the deal”

You grabbed both of his hands. “I think I could manage two if you’re real good.” You punctuated your statement with a hand squeeze and shifting yourself closer to him.

“Only if I’m good huh?” Echo’s voice took on a darker, huskier tone. He stared right through you, eyelids heavy.

“That’s what I said, but I’d love to see you be bad.” You bite back, eyes darting between his lips and eyes. You knew what you wanted. But you weren't going to be the one to break. So you were going to break him.

And oh did you break Echo. Unable to contain himself, he closed the distance between the two of you and crashed his lips into yours. He was hungry, and you greedily accepted. Both of you needed this, and ached for it. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, eliciting a quiet moan from you. This made the clone shiver deep in his core, letting his arm slip around your waist and pull you closer. You took this in stride, and pulled yourself onto his lap. The unexpected shift to his colder, metal legs made you yelp, and he took the chance to swipe his tongue into your mouth. The feeling made your eyes roll back, and you part your lips obediently. He laps at your tongue, telling you to follow his lead. You tilt your head back to allow him more access, and his hand immediately finds its way to the back of your head to hold you in place.

Echo pulls his face away from yours, eyes blown wide and still breathing from parted lips.

“Maybe let’s not do this in the bathroom?”

the post-tumblr-sexyman era 2016-2020ish backlash against bill cipher was so interesting in hindsight. i definitely participated in it, albeit passively, feeling too ashamed to admit that the corny edgy cheshire-joker smile hot topic villain is cool. i'm sorry, but it's true. the concept of being possessed by a being of pure id and sadism is fucking cool. deal-with-the-devil types are cool.

this doesn't cancel out the fact that he is also deeply, deeply pathetic, a trait now considered desirable in the post-sexyman era. bottomless confidence and edgy slogans are out, pathetic sopping wet cat guys are IN. and brother, book of bill is cocaine in that respect, heavily emphasizing his wet-catness that is completely his own fault yet still pitiable. thus it is acceptable once again to unironically go cuckoo bananas for bill cipher

chat do we fw the depressed furries

sith!soka lives in my head absolutely rent free, i should be paying her rent for the space between my ears atp

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slowly coming around to alcohol markers as a break from procreate bc i refuse to burn myself outta digital art, while also keeping with my practice schedule 🤞