Jalapeno Business

A list of resources to help Free Palestine

the israeli government is threatening further annexation of palestinian land. here’s how you can help.

Petition links-

calling on the us state department + department of defense to demand an end to israel’s forced displacement of palestinians from jerusalem

tell your state rep. to support the palestinian children and families act (h.r. 2590)

stop israel’s forced displacement of palestinians from east jerusalem

write canadian parliament to protect palestinian families in east jerusalem

Donation links-

unrwa, donations funded towards injured and displaced palestinian families

palestine children relief fund

further information-

free palestine carrd

stop annexation of palestine carrd

@/thearabkage on tiktok

please reblog/add sources!

#SOSCuba is trending on Twitter and I figure it’s only a matter of time before it ends up here so friendly reminder that if you’re NOT Cuban and especially if you ARE American if your idea on how to “help Cuba” doesn’t begin and end with calling for the end of the US blockade on Cuba that literally every country in the world supports ending except for the United States and Isr*el which is preventing Cuba from distributing its five homemade COVID vaccines and other lifesaving medicines to its own people you have worms for brains and couldn’t give less of a shit about the Cuban people

the long way around - chapter two

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Rating: M Word count: 3,000 Notes: So, this took a lot longer than I anticipated. Sorry about the almost month-long wait between chapters! This chapter is sort of a roller coaster of sorts but I think a lot gets established in this one. Reblogs appreciated! Warnings: The dinner from hell, mutual pining, awkward situations, kissing, swearing, food mention, alcohol mention

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist || taglist || read on ao3 

Keep reading

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

Mapping Your Body

Frankie Morales x Reader; 751 Words

Warnings: talk about injuries and scars

A/N: Thinking about Frankie being shy, and possibly self-conscious of his scars.

Your finger traces along the puckered, light pink line across his cheek bone. 

‘Just one more to memorize’ 

Frankie had a lot of scars. His limbs were littered with lines and marks. Monuments to his sacrifices, adventures, and even clumsiness. Some were new, some were from back way before you even knew him. Some had incredible stories attached to them, that made your side hurt from laughter. Some of them carried such close calls, you couldn’t deal with listening to them without feeling the floor fall from underneath you. 

There was a fairly large. yet faded splotch on his knee from when his cousin accidentally knocked him off a bike. Whether or not the bike was made for a 7 year old and he was 16 was immaterial to the story. It hurt, and he ended up nearly getting gangrene from it. And he will remind you of it over and over again. 

Keep reading

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ☆ 😘

*unintelligible noises* I love you sm!!!!

Speak up. Raise awareness. People are dying.

Post made by this account.

Educate yourself here, here, here and here

Donate here

This post is everything. (via @sukunasfootrest)

Old Guys Rule

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary: With a birthday coming up, Frankie's insecurities about the age gap in your relationship start to get the better of him

Warnings: legal age gap relationship, insecurities about said age gap, mentions of children but no mentions of how they came to be in the relationship

I found this hat in a shop in Cornwall and I had to write this!

"Are you wanting to do anything on your birthday? I was thinking about booking a table down at that Italians you like and asking your Mom to watch the girls but if you have plans with the guys I can find a different day?" you looked over your shoulder at Frankie from where you had been scrolling through the booking page of the restaurant.

"Hmm? No, dinner sounds fine," Frankie answered, his head not lifting up from his phone as his face stayed firmly unbothered.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to..." you trailed off as you turned back to the laptop that was resting on the kitchen counter, not convinced by Frankie's response.

"What?" you could tell that his head had whipped up to look at yours now you had turned around, "No, dinner sounds good, yes. Thank you."

You didn't answer, instead scrolling up and down on the page for a minute as you tried not to take his response too personally. It had been a while since you and Frankie were able to go out for dinner just the two of you, finding it more difficult to get some alone time since the new baby came along and you now had the two girls, so you thought he would like the idea of a romantic dinner alone.

You could hear Frankie's footsteps pad across the kitchen floor until he was leaning against the counter next to you. Avoiding his gaze as he crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking the way his ankles were now crossed over one another, you filled in the booking information before closing the laptop. Without looking at him you turned in the chair to stand but Frankie's hand fell on your wrist stopping you.

"Hey," his voice was soft, "I do want to go out for dinner with you and thank you for booking the place that I like, I just-." Frankie sighed and let you wrist go before dragging his hand down his face as he let his eyes drop to the floor, "I'm just not looking forward to this birthday. I'm in my late forties now!"

"I think you're still mid-forties."

"So much better," he rolled his eyes.

"So you're not looking forward to your birthday because... you're going to be a year older? Forty-six years and thats you just realising how birthdays work?"

"It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing, I'm wondering why that's upsetting you. Whether or not you're looking forward to it you can't stop it."

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you why," his foot was swinging out in front of him before crossing it back over the other again.

"Maybe, but we've been married for six years so I think I'm allowed to make fun of you."

A smile was tugging at the corner of Frankie's lips when he finally looked up to you, his head leaning slightly to the side as he met your eyes. Frankie loved everything about you but he especially loved how relaxed you made him feel. Even though he wasn't in a good mood when you started talking birthday plans, instead of giving in to it you pulled him back from it. You had done it ever since you met him. Frankie could tell you, and has told you, his deepest, darkest secrets and fears and you don't shy away. You don't pull him further into the darkness; you just listen and make him feel comfortable until you help him out the other side.

"I know there isn't a bigger gap between us now that there had been when we first started dating because thats not possible but it just feels bigger now? Like, you're still able to keep up with Sofia when she runs rings around us even after you've been up all night with the baby. You don't have to hold the menu back to read it more clearly when we got out for dinner. You don't have to think about having a sore back for a week if we fall asleep on the couch when watching a movie. You don't even fall asleep when watching movies at eight at night but somehow I do!"

You let his breathing settle a little before you pulled him to stand between your legs, resting your hands on his chest.

"Is it about all these small things or is there something bigger to it?"

You tilted your head to catch his gaze as Frankie's eyes fell to the floor again, stopping him with two fingers under his chin and lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"I just worry that you don't want to be with an old guy like me," he sighed, his hands resting on your thighs.

"I'll have you know that I love that your an old guy. I fall more in love with you every day as you get older. I love that you run around enough with Sofia until you're tired because you don't want to stop. I think you're cute when you have to squint at the menu because you're too stubborn to get glasses, even though I think you would look very handsome in them. And I like giving you back massages when it gets sore because its just an excuse to get my hands on your very sexy, super hot, handsome DILF self."

Frankie barked a laugh, his forehead falling against yours as his hands reached up to cup your face.

"I love you so much, you know that."

"I do, and I love you."

His lips found yours, pressing a soft kiss to them. Just as his mouth opened to push his tongue into yours the sound of tiny footsteps running into the kitchen pulled you both away.

"Mama, Papa!" the voice cheered as Frankie leaned down to swing Sofia up, groaning as he did so.

None of what you had said to Frankie was a lie. You truly did love him more and more every day.

As time went on it had been kind to Frankie. He had fought off his demons for the most part, nightmares only sneaking in every so often, and it showed. He carried a lightness with him, not being weighed down by his past anymore. His eyes crinkle at the side when he smiles, which he does more now than ever. His face has filled out a little more in a healthy way. His jaw is also covered in a patchy beard that now has spots of grey that you love the most even if Frankie doesn't believe you.

❀❀❀

You let Frankie lie in on the morning of his birthday, getting the girls up and ready so you could have a lazy breakfast together before you dropped them at their Gran's while you and Frankie go out for dinner. After sorting out a breakfast, having to start again after Sofia wanted to help and ended up spilling the batter over the countertop instead of in the pan, you carried it upstairs with the girls in tow.

Frankie was already waking up as you opened the door, his face lighting up with a wide grin when he spotted you balancing the baby in one arm and carefully carrying the tray in the other as Sofia carried bags of birthday presents.

"Happy birthday," you and Sofia chimed with a small gurgle coming from your side.

"My beautiful girls, thank you!"

Frankie lifted Sofia onto the bed with the presents, settling her into his side, before taking the tray of pancakes from your hands. Once it was safe on his lap he lifted his head, catching your lips in a kiss, before you sat across from him.

You managed to get through breakfast before Sofia had spoke about opening the presents again and once the tray was placed on the bedside table you got to opening the gifts. With baby girl back asleep and placed on Frankie's chest, Sofia pulled the paper off them more so than Frankie, handing him the opened presents as he thanked you all. Once all the presents that were on the bed were opened you leaned across and pulled another from your bedside.

"One more," you smiled knowingly and Frankie narrowed his eyes at you as you handed him the small bag.

He snaked his arm from around Sofia, holding baby girl close to his chest as he put his hand inside the bag and pulled out a hat.

"Oh a new hat, thanks babe I love-" he stopped when he read the front, looking at you with a grin on his face.

"What does it say?!" Sofia asked, pushing her head in front of her Dad's to see the cap he was holding.

"It says Old Guys Rule!" you exclaimed.

"Because Dad is old," Sofia flung her head back in a fake laugh that bellowed around the room.

"Is that right?" Frankie tickled her sides until she was giggling for real and her head was lying next to her sleeping sister's on Frankie's chest.

"Dad is old, but he's still cool isn't he?" you reached across and pulled Sofia onto your lap as she nodded.

"How does it look?" Frankie pulled it onto his head, a little wonky as he was only working with one hand with the other resting on the tiny body on his chest.

You and Sofia both put your thumbs up and you laughed.

"Four out of four thumbs up!"

"Thanks babe," he chuckled, lifting his hand to settle the cap a little tighter on his head.

"You're welcome, you look even more handsome today. Forty-six suits you," you winked and he smiled.

Yes, Frankie was getting older but he was becoming happier and healthier and you were falling more in love with him every single day.

//

Permanent tag// @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday

If none of them married, how desperate would the Bennett girls actually have been?

Well the only dowry they have is £50 apiece from their mother’s small inheritance, per year; so that’s a total of £250 generated by Mrs. Bennet’s inherited investments per annum.

The Dashwoods (four women) are living on £500 a year when they are forced to live in Barton Cottage (with good-will making the rent presumably ridiculously low thanks to Sir John Middleton’s good nature, to say nothing of all the dinners and outings he invites the ladies to, which will help them economize on housekeeping costs for heavier meals.)

So there would be six Bennet women left to live on half as much as the Dashwoods are barely scraping by on. £250 is roughly considered enough to keep ONE gentleman at a barely-genteel level of leisure (presuming he does not keep a horse or estate or have any major expenses beyond securing his own lodgings/clothes/meals at a level becoming of a gentleman.)

None of the Bennet girls have been educated well enough for them to be governesses to support themselves, so…yes, their situation would heavily rely on mega-charity from others to just help them survive, much less maintain them in the lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to. The Dashwood women have NO social life beyond the outings provided by Sir John and the offer of Mrs. Jennings to host the older girls in London–otherwise they’d be stuck in their cottage, meeting absolutely no eligible men, creating a cycle of being poor and unmarried and too poor to meet anyone with money they could marry.

If the Bennet girls don’t at least have ONE of them marry well enough to help the rest before their father dies, they are really, truly, deeply fucked.

They may joke about beautiful Jane being the saviour of the family, but…it’s true. Mr. Bennet failed his daughters several times over in A) presuming he’d have a son, B) not saving money independently from his income to support his family after his death when it became clear he wasn’t going to have a son, C) not educating them well enough to enable them to support themselves in even in the disagreeable way of being a governess, D) not making any effort to escort his daughters to London or even local assemblies to help their matrimonial chances because he just doesn’t feel like it, E) throwing up his hands and shrugging when faced with the crises of Mr. Collins and Wickham.

Much as we are relieved on a romantic level that Mr. Bennet’s support of Elizabeth saves her from parental pressure to accept Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet is NOT A DICK for pushing for the match, because on a material level it very much means they get to KEEP THEIR HOUSE and gain a connection to the powerful patron Lady Catherine de Bourgh, which could be VERY advantageous for the other unmarried girls.

And the scandal of Wickham very nearly scuppers the chances of ANY of the other girls, and Wickham is a further DRAIN on the family finances, not a man who is going to substantially be able to support them. It is SUCH a disaster, and of course there’s not much Mr. Bennet can do until they are found, but he’s away in London and doing…what, exactly? Mr. Gardiner takes over and manages everything and Mr. Bennet seems happy to just let him.

Mr. Bennet does the ABSOLUTE LEAST, and actively damages his children’s futures by his inaction AND by his one action to support Lizzie’s individual needs being prioritized over the collective gain, which…I mean, Lizzie is going to be JUST as homeless and destitute as her sisters when he dies, so much good being Dad’s Favourite is going to do her. :/