Saleh Aljafarawi

star wars week 2023: costumes

text from Dressing a Galaxy by Trisha Beggar (part 1, part 2)

THIS!!!!!!!!!! most of us feel like we aren't doing enough because we can't physically stop a genocide but speaking helps!! pressuring helps!! boycotting helps and protesting helps!! please don't give up on Palestinians not when the entire world has turned their backs on them

here is how YOU can help Palestine

A little girl died from hunger in Khan Younis, southern Gaza, despite being in the area where aid trucks are distributed. Another family in the north in Gaza city was forced to eat a donkey, which for many in Palestine is inconceivable culturally. Bisan says there isn't even water (clean OR dirty) for them to drink or wash with.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 / 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐀 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x gn!winged!Reader

outline —; Confessing to Wednesday Addams is... something else.

word count —: 2.3k

WARNINGS —: cursing, SUGGESTIVE, LIKE VERY.

themes / tags —: reader is gender-neutral. divina is non-binary.

A/N: reblogs and comments are appreciated. there are some other fics i wanted to write for wednesday. have some gender-neutral divina and reader as dorm mates! and some wings too, may i add. enjoy :)

There is no number or word that can describe love. The only way to describe it is to feel it. To be in it. Similarly, love isn’t a never ending circle, going around and saying the same thing. For centuries, science has explained it too – the love for friends, the love for lovers, the love for parents, the love for certain objects. 

In history, the Greeks have words for love. Sitting in history lessons in one of the many rooms in Nevermore, your wings folded, your eyes staring directly at the board, as the teacher spoke. A school mate, similar to you with wings of down feathers, smiled in your direction, staring intently. 

Some didn’t seem to care about the knowledge they’re learning, some were confused (one of them being you, though, you were just ecstatic that all these people were learning that love isn’t just love). Some were guilty – you knew because you felt them, you felt that they never ‘love’ the way it is expected. 

“Ludus is the playful form of love. This may describe your type of romance; teasing, flirting, and teenage love.” The teacher explained, dragging her tone through the room, the class is quiet, accepting the new form of knowledge into their minds. 

The first period class really had you smiling. A swelled understandment filled your stomach as if it was thirsty for affection and attention. Who knew the Greeks could understand you? In ways more than one. Besides its occasional tales of myths and legends (that you personally indulge in, though too embarrassed to say anything about it), you were surprised that this knowledge is never passed down unto society. 

Only ‘friendship’ and ‘love’ were understood. If the normies altogether had a voice they would probably say; What else is there to it? 

The thought made you snicker. Hours passed; preoccupied students were busy shuffling the hallways, getting ready for the falling night. You watched through the infirmary window as the courtyard emptied out. “You bird!” The nurse called, looking at you with wide eyes. This did not surprise you but it did make you jump in your chair, your feathers in alert mode as you felt ants seeping through your skin. “I told you, this girl, here,” She pointed to Yoko, who snickered in response, hiding her laughter. “She is okay! No need to crowd this place! Look at your wings- Giant!” She reached her hand out, pinching a feather, making you hiss in staggerment. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m just worried about my friend.” You said, cowering out of the door, waving Yoko a goodbye before she could touch the ends of your feathers too. You huffed, wings fluttering in a shiver. The thumping of your own boots thundered in your ears, silencing any form of thoughts that raced through your mind. Silencing the outside world for a while, walking to your dorm subconsciously. 

For a moment, you ceased in a quiet hallway, contemplating whether to comfort Enid in her time of distress. Pending for a second that your wings enclosed in a relaxed position, folding itself. I don’t need to think about this situation, you mentally facepalmed. 

You headed to your dorm, waving a slight hello to Divina. They didn’t let you pass the window though, blocking your view of the outside world before you could fly out. Worry flooded their eyes as they frantically blurted out a word. “The nurse wouldn’t let me-”

You intercepted, putting a hand on their shoulder. “Let you see her? Me too but I’ve seen, Tanaka is fine, it’s just an allergic reaction.” You calmly stated, your wings subconsciously wrapping around them into a hug. They wrapped their arms around your shoulders too, unable to decide whether to hold your waist or back. “She’ll be out before you know it.” You pulled away, smiling. 

Divina nodded, stepping out of the window. “Tell me how your confession goes.” They teased, opening their closet and picking out a jacket. They headed to the bathroom. 

You opened the window, searching for Ophelia Hall in the many buildings until your eyes landed on the half-rainbow cobwebbed window. “Not yours to know,” You yelled in a responsive tone, hands on the railing, keeping your body balanced, poking your head out of the cold air. Making sure that no one is watching, you search left to right as if you were checking a road before crossing. “Nightshades again?” You asked, pushing your head in, grabbing a jacket of your own. 

Divina fixed their hair, responding with a nod. “At least look decent, who are you meeting? Enid or Addams?” They blindly asked. 

Disbelief left your mouth as a laugh. You loudly shut your closet, running up to the window, shutting it down as if anyone could hear from your own dorm. “Do you think Wednesday would care what I wear?” You emphasized clearly on her name, grabbing a hair brush. You rubbed the back of your neck before remembering the reason for your arrival at their dorm. “And anyway, I wanted to see Enid, she’s upset because of…” Your voice trailed, realizing that Divina is the person you’re talking to. You didn’t want to upset her any further, though luckily, she was busy adjusting her necklace to even listen to you. 

Divina smiled playfully. “Well, people say she’s allergic to color. But honestly, she’s pulling off the black and white outfits.” They replied, shrugging. The sneakers they wore dragged a rushed sound. Though it stopped when they turned on their heel to face you again. “Yet, here you are, putting no effort into your fits.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes, as you leaned into the mirror. “I’m pretty decent, if you ask me. Or Wednesday.” You happily affirmed. 

Divina shrugged in defeat, waving you off. “Just make sure to be there, Bianca hates you.” 

Shaking your head, you opened the window again, jumping up the railing, spreading your wings. “Tell her the feeling is mutual.” With that, you leaped out, snickering at the response ‘that’s jackshit, Xavier hates you too’, spreading your wings to bring yourself up to the window once more, satisfied that Divina took in the words you most definitely meant. You carefully pulled down the window, leaving a big enough gap for your hands to fit in. 

You flew higher, the cold air reaching your whole body. Jacket or not, the cold bothered you. Though, post-autumn has finally worn out. The start of cold winds were scaring you for the snow. And god, were you thankful that you didn’t have to shovel it all? Yes, of course, you were. 

Your feet landed on the cold ground, as wind slightly pushed you back. You flap your wings in the process, creating a whirlwind that nearly knocked out the musical note stand. Thankfully, you weren’t too far to not catch it and disrupt a loud bang. Cold seeped through your footwarmers, each step you took warmed up your body eventually. Since, you couldn’t fit through the window (credits to the wings you carried), instead, you knocked, poking your head in. 

“Enid!” You called on excitedly, only to find her bed empty, neatly arranged. Your head turned to her roommate’s bed. Next to it is a dissatisfied Wednesday, her hands briefly above the typewriter. “Where is she?” You asked, emphasizing your question even more as you raised a brow. 

Wednesday sighed, standing up from her chair. “Sulking and complaining to Ajax or Divina,” She explained, leading you out of the window by giving your forehead a gentle flick. You mouthed an ‘oh’ shape, knowing where that would lead to. Your mind wandered if Ajax could comfort Enid in such a way, because, knowing him — it would be an easy yet ineffective display, mostly because of his tiny, little serpents. 

The scent of Wednesday Addams attained your senses, though, the spinning of the glass window in front of you distracted it. You can see a new addition to the dorm; a giant detective board, with pictures of disgusting pieces of body parts, it almost made you drop and vomit. Almost, not until Wednesday inquired with a furrowed brow (you could tell); “Why is it your concern?” 

You turned, glancing to the back of her head. Walking up to her was easy, taking mental note not to stand too far nor too close, figuring that Wednesday didn’t like close and intimate proximities. “She was upset that Yoko got an allergic reaction again.” You answered truthfully. You saw her shake gently. A swift chance of courage shook your presence. “I also came here to talk to you actually.” 

Wednesday’s mouth dropped into a firm line, almost frowning. Her solemn face returned, however, when she looked at you. “Make it quick.” She commanded. 

You beamed, wings fluttering in excitement, and Wednesday knew it was going to be a long talk, or night, if you made your move. You propped yourself up at the balcony, sitting comfortably, your eyes straightforward. “Don’t you admire your parent’s love for each other?” 

Wednesday is right, she mentally prepared herself for her own upcoming answer, a tiny voice in her throat buried itself until she gave it full thought. “I do, why?” 

You bit your inner cheeks, nodding to your side, as you cleared your throat. “Their love is called Pragma; long standing love.” Shifting your sentences to something less obvious isn’t something you had me mind. “They might’ve had a friendship too, which is Philia.” 

Wednesday raised her brows, an inquiry isn’t something she’ll speak out in these conversations. But then again, she is an Addams, her opinions most likely matter because of the pressure that she instills on them. “Friendship? Before marriage, there’s… friendship?” She tried not to show the hesitant tone that concluded her sentence, a rushed tone dragged the tension. 

You shook your head in a ‘no’, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Not just before marriage, no. It’s something you have before any type of romance.” Without the knowledge of whose dropping these words but you, yourself, obliged you to speak more. Wednesday seemed confounded in your knowledge, conflict reached blood, as it ran cold. 

The thought of you having experienced a friendship that turned into… whatever her parents had, or, as you called it; Philia and Pragma. She had to admit, bearing that sight is a nightmare. 

Grabbing your wrists, Wednesday stood in front of you, holding your waist as you involuntarily yelped without the support of your hand on the cold marble. Her fingers dug into your side, into your jacket, as her eyes trailed in confusion. The girl in front of you blinked, a stricken flick of anger visible in her expressions. “Have you ever loved someone like that?” Wednesday inquired, glancing up at you, she held your gaze, before averting her own. 

The pacing of your heart quickened, lup-dup, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub. Without the huffed breaths, you would’ve fallen in peace. You were certain Wednesday couldn’t catch you, so you managed to stay alive. Taking a breath and moving closer, inch to inch with Wednesday Addams; nose nuzzled, minty breath of yours, mixed with the scent of… coffee? Something of the sort, you couldn’t tell due to your proximity. “You.” 

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t back away when you stepped in closer, she only closed the gap that accompanied the two of you. Catching your lips into hers, moving in sync with your own. Her other hand accompanied your lower back, rubbing it in circles. Your hands found freedom in her jaw, cold fingers against it, underlining the perfect structure. 

Wednesday pulled away, catching her breath, forehead against yours. She gave your lips another peck, which you reciprocated. Your eyes gently shut, recalling the last of what you could see was Wednesday’s half-shut eyes. A flooding warm of heat pulled your stomach down as she deepened the kiss. 

Ecstasy engulfed you and (hopefully) Wednesday. 

Forgetting that breathing existed is something you would’ve never forgotten, afterall, not after this. You needed air although worry didn’t cross your mind, not once, when this is happening. Nothing could be processed actually. The only thoughts that occupy your mind is Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday. 

You pulled away, chest heaving up and down for breaths, a still laugh erupting from your throat. “Who taught you how to kiss like that?” You asked, cockiness reached your lips, quirking upwards into a smile. You were pulled up with a jerk of her shoulders, diminishing the cruelty that settled on your lips, which were puffy and pink now. 

Wednesday settled in a firm hug, burying her face into your jacket. A quiet sniffle of laughter carefully rolled out of your tongue. She wrinkled her nose, bringing her chin to your shoulders. She responded, bringing her head up. “My parents, they always kiss in front me and my brother.” 

You nodded in understanding, a hum vibrating your chest in response. You closed your eyes in the warmth of her body near you, feeling a tug of your jacket with her fingers. The exposure of your warm, clothed skin to the wind did not make you please. Not until Wednesday’s mouth found closure in your skin, her warm tongue and soft lips sucking on it carefully. 

This made your eyes open in shock, a kept groan couldn’t contain itself, leaving your mouth with no permission. “Addams,” You meekly called, averting your eyes to the side, though, your head jerked up; giving her more skin to attack. “Someone- someone will notice.” You warned, fingers circling her back as an attempt to call after her. 

Wednesday obliged. Though, she smirked at it, noticing the bruise, pulling your jacket back to its place in your neck. A glimpse of visible purple marks accompanied it. An audible groan left your mouth, hiding your face to the side, as your wings wrapped the two of you. “What?” She asked, closely inspecting the wrapped wings that shook slightly. “Be thankful it’s not your lips, it would’ve been far worse.” She concluded. 

Goosebumps overtook your body. Jumping down from your spot, cautious as to not step on Wednesday. You hugged her closely. “What are we now?” 

Wednesday raised a brow, you were sure a tender smile attended her features. “Pragma and Philia, as you said.” 

♡ PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.

Mattheo is the type to be so disgustingly and proudly be obsessed with reader. Like everyone teases him sm for it but mf doesn't give a flying fuck, he's processing how he bagged HER???

WORSHIPS the ground you step a foot on.

"Matt can you-",

"Yes.",

NO directed to reader is JUST NOT in his vocabulary.

"Um, Y/N, he's staring at you again," your friend whispered, looking judgmentally at the perpetrator.

You raised a brow and turned your head, only to be met with the sight of your boyfriend across the courtyard staring at you. You could've sworn you saw hearts in his eyes. 

You smiled at him, waving, before turning back to your friend to continue the conversation. "He does that," you said, shrugging. 

"You've really got him wrapped around your finger, girl," your friend commented, snickering in amusement. 

"He's obsessed with me, and I'm obsessed with him. It's a two-way street." 

She’s going to betray you. Sooner or later, people like her, they always do. I don’t think she’s like that.

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS 1.03 – "We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium"

does throwing a stone at a tank

make a child a terrorist?

is terrorism about resisting oppression? is terrorism about demanding your birthright to live safely and peacefully in your homeland? is terrorism about hating the killers of your family, your friends and your people?

accusations of terrorism are often weaponized against those fighting for liberation and sovereignty and dignity. the french settlers called the algerians terrorists. the indian government calls the kashmiris terrorists. the pakistani army calls pashtun activists terrorists. the turkish government calls the kurds terrorists. apartheid south africa called nelson mandela a terrorist. americans called the vietcong and the black panthers terrorists. the israelis call the palestinians terrorists. all oppressive regimes are connected. all oppressed people are connected. injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.

I know it’s not much in the face of everything but I have been finding hope & resilience in palestinian poetry these past few weeks and I created a google drive file of poetry collections by palestinian poets that I will keep updating as I keep on reading. I also recommend checking out @fiercynn’s palestinian poets series for more poets + poetry available online

𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐃 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday is the most affectionate when it's time to sleep, much to your dismay.

Warnings: one of Wednesday's death threats.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Maybe a bit OOC but I love that headcannon that Wednesday shows a bit of her soft side whenever she's sleepy, though to very certain people. Enjoy :)

You’ve been pestering Wednesday a healthy amount. Even avoiding your own friends to spend time with her, though, you seemed to have regretted that decision, just a little bit. 

In the bed of your girlfriend’s, you laid on your wing to the side, listening to the loud tune of Pathetique outside, as Enid chats with Ajax through the phone. The wing in which you laid on stayed motionless, asleep, that when you reached your hand to feel it, it didn’t feel like your own body, but instead someone else's'. 

Wednesday is doing her nightly cello playing, as she did when she first got here. You admired her passion, consistency, and dedication to her schedule. You admired her writing. You admired her creativity. You admired everything about her, flaws and all. You admired her. 

“You just don’t know how to show it,” Enid says loudly, probably referring to you more than she refers to Ajax. It made you grimace, seeing as your friend looked out for your emotions that weren’t shown much on display. “But, you know, I’ll notice anyway.” She continued. The feathers on top of your head, that certainly will get you a scolding from Mrs. Davidson, the second normie teacher to teach in Nevermore after the accident with Lauren Gates, felt as if they had melted and left two side-eyeing holes. 

“He doesn’t even know you notice.” You looked up, adjusting your position on Wednesday’s bed. It had been a couple of months ever since you were back in Nevermore. Ophelia Hall’s stayed the same, the sense of nostalgia hit your vision, making your wings flutter in response. 

Enid stood up from her bed, grabbing her pink snood from the end of her bed. Her hair, unlike before, was much longer now, reaching past her shoulders. Blue and pink are still evident at the ends of it. Her face is more developed yet keeping the innocent Enid Sinclair charm (as Eugene would call it). 

“I’m going to Ajax’s dorm,” She secured her phone in her pocket, rummaging through her closet as she pulled out a blue snood. You couldn’t protest with what she said, since the werewolf always deserts you every time, she pries you about something. She left a bunch of clothes on her bed, making it look like gnomes vomited rainbows. “Talk to her,” Enid motioned her head to the window, referring to Wednesday. “And call me when you both are done making out.” 

You stood up from your position swiftly, almost making you black out. “You mean making up!” You half-yelled, vision still blurred though enough to see that Enid has gone with the door closed. 

As if on cue, Wednesday walked through the spider-like glass, a squeak of noise echoing in the dorms. Her hair still tightly kept in her signature braids, one on each side, both equally parted. Her small, scattered, and cute freckles were much, much visible – probably due to the lack of makeup she wore today. 

Speaking of wearing, the clothes she wore are always black. This time she wore a comfortable black tee shirt (she learned her lesson to never wear white shirts over black bras years ago, not that she was going to wear the color white again) and parachute-like pajama, black pants. “Stare at me like that again and I’ll poke your eyes out.” She threatened, papers held in her hand, though from your perspective, they were weapons. 

“Sorry… you’re just-” You stopped mid-sentence, a grimace forming in your lips, a small one so as to not drift the conversation apart quickly. “I haven’t been this near you in a while.” 

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours. “I’m 2 meters apart from you.” She didn’t waste any time walking closer, not to you though. She placed her musical sheets in a category of folders, each one of them either being black or transparent. 

“Wednesday,” You called, not to test her emotions or lack of eye contact, to simply call your girlfriend. “You say you’re allergic to colors… how does that work?” You asked cautiously, as she dipped down the bed next to you. Your wings fluttered, wrapping around her side subconsciously. She didn’t pull back, leaning in against the soft feathers. 

Wednesday began undoing her braid. “I’m not allergic to it.” She answered in a soft tone, yawning under her hands right after. “Just have a different reaction to it than everybody else.” She explained, she stood up to place the hair tie on her desk. She dipped back down her bed, pushing your wing aside carefully as you stood up. She laid on her side, not staring at you. 

You didn’t want to pester her any further, although you remembered Enid’s words; talk to her.

In response to her answer, you questioned. The thick air was choking back your questions. At the simplest and shortest eye contact from Wednesday, you wanted to continue. “Why?” was all you could ask, short and curios were your tone. Interested filled your smile.

“Don’t,” She started, gazing down her lap. “Smile like that.” Wednesday stood up from her lying position, crossing her legs. Her eyes locked down her pants, minding their own business. 

Wednesday Addams, nothing like her sweet mother from what you’ve witnessed during vacation, she wasn’t exactly like her father too. She is Wednesday. She did not inherit after her parents’, but, as her own personality. The girl who was prophesied to kill an entire school, the girl who changed that said prophecy. 

She is brilliant. And you remembered yourself, following after Lauren Gates through the cave. You remember yourself freezing when she was stabbed, not knowing exactly what to do. And a ghost, much like Wednesday herself, healed her every wound. Seeping in through her. 

You could still feel Goody Addams in Wednesday Addams. You felt the stronger push and pull through her heart. And it felt even more promising as you are talking to her right now. Wednesday’s energy is strong and complex. Right now, it’s at ease. And it was evident in her body language, shoulders relaxed, legs crossed with one another. 

If it didn’t seem like she’s relaxed. Her heavy eyelids were about to shut though she kept it awake, certainly spoke for themselves. “You should sleep,” You whispered, pulling yourself up from the bed, sighing. You could talk to her tomorrow. And you could call Enid tomorrow, as well. If she isn’t in the detention office already. 

“Must you go?” Wednesday pulled you lightly from the wrist, showing the frailty in her tone. Sleep caught on with her looks now. 

You shook your head, sitting down on the bed, facing her this time. “I can stay…” Your voice trailed, then, you remembered you were talking to an Addams. “If you want me to.” 

Wednesday looked conflicted but gave a sharp nod. Her eyes drifted to your wings, leaning in before giving them a light touch. “It’s so soft.” She whispered; voice sleepy. Her body weight leaned in against you. “Why is it so soft?” 

You laid down to your side, tapping on your wings for room. Wednesday stared down at you, before she laid down. “They’re called down feathers, y’know like the clouds.” You answered, softly kissing her hair, the bridge your nose tickled. 

Your hands were wrapped around her. She kissed your palms lightly. “Sleep.” She commanded and you could not help but oblige. Your wings wrapped around your body and Wednesday's, like a blanket. 

The personal warmth cuddled around the room. Before closing off into your dreams, Thing sat on the table. “G’night, bud.” You say, smiling as he formed a small heart with his fingers.

The next day, Enid was in the detention office, smiling as you passed by.