🕊️ Please Take A Moment To Read Nadin’s Story

Hello my friend, we have not received any donations for two days and all the free food distribution points have closed. We are now left with only one option, which is to buy expensive food. So please, my friend, donate to us what you can and share our post so that it reaches everyone. Please, for the sake of my innocent little children, please, we are on the verge of a real famine.

vetted by @gazavetters, and (#287) on their list of verified campaigns.

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Donate to Support Hossam’s afflicted family to rebuild their lives., organized by nouraldin alqazzaz

Dear reader, I am Hussam Al-Qazzaz from Gaza, and I am wr… nouraldin alqazzaz needs your support for Support Hossam’s afflicted family t

@rickybabyboy @tamamita @wolfertinger666 @gaza-giving-tree

𝔸𝕟 𝔼𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 (bro idk what to call it)

Another day, another torturous round of school.

Saiki Kusuo woke up as usual, his strawberry-colored hair already perfectly styled, without needing to do anything thanks to his psychic abilities. Not that he wanted to impress anyone – it was far from it. But since his telekinesis and all the other powers he had made it impossible to even think about doing something as mundane and simple as brushing his hair, he just lets his abilities handle it.

About school? It's the same as always for him. The pink haired psychic sits in his usual spot, trying to keep his psychic shields up to avoid hearing the inner thoughts of his classmates. Kineshi and Shun kept talking about their "awesome" plans for the weekend. Teruhashi keeps on being annoying and wanting to seek attention from him. Seriously, do they ever stop? All he ever wanted was to be average, not noticed by anyone. Was that too much to ask for?

Anyway, nothing noteworthy happened during the day. Oh, except for the usual noise from Riki, who tried to make him laugh by doing something ridiculous with his hair. Of course, he didn't laugh. He should know better by now. But he couldn't blame him. In his world, that's probably the best way to get attention.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of another pointless day, Kusuo was already preparing for his escape. He could barely stand to stay any longer in that horrendous school. Not that he has a choice, though. Being stuck in this world with a bunch of clueless people who have no idea about the disaster that is his existence? That's his life.

When he got home after a little walk in peace (somehow managing to get away from Nendo), he immediately headed to his room. Inside there it was quiet and peaceful. His only sanctuary. The one place where he could try to keep things from falling apart.

But then, something very annoying happened.

Kusuo was about to settle into his chair and relax for the evening when he noticed something unusual. One of the pink clips on his head – the ones that help stabilize his powers – was a little off. [Huh? The hell?] He didn't think too much of it at first, but as he concentrated and went up to reach it, he realized that it was, in fact, deflating.

Great. Just great.

He sighed deeply. Again? These things were important – more so than most people realize. If he doesn't have his pink clips fully inflated or in a good condition, he'll risk losing control of his powers. Which means his sneezes could level an entire block, he might break the floor with just applying a little bit more pressure by stepping on it, and worst of all, his entire life could slowly spiral into chaos. He quickly rushed to his dresser to grab the emergency backup box that Kusuke left behind, the one he kept hidden in case of situations like this. But when he turned back around, he was already beginning to feel a shift in the air. His heart suddenly dropped. "...Hey, Kusuo? I need your help–"

[ Dad! Could you not right now?! ] Kusuo huffed as he shouted telepathically to him, hoping he could just ask him to not be an idiot for once and not make things worse for him.

But of course, his dad didn't hear him. He never did, and that's what led to the problem.

He has teleportation as one of his abilities, and while he normally has it under control, this time, his powers got all out of whack. It wasn't just a simple teleportation – He wasn't even trying to teleport himself! He then felt his nose feel ticklish. He let out a small sneeze.

A simple, singular sneeze.

That's all it took.

And as soon as he did, his father – who had been standing just a little too close – disappeared. Kusuo froze in horror, staring at the spot where he had been.

What did I just do?  Kusuo is sure he felt him pop out of existence for just a second... And then... He was gone.

[ DAD?! ] He was panicking. But of course, he wasn't there to hear him.

That's when it hit him. In his panic, his powers hadn't just shifted his position a few feet like they usually do when he teleports. Oh, no. His powers were too unstable. He had teleported  his dad into another location. He tried to sense him by emitting signals, but he couldn't. His father wasn't found anywhere in the world no matter how he tried. Did he just teleport him into somewhere other than this world?

Kusuo's knees felt weak as he slumped to the floor, his head spinning. This was bad. Really, really bad. He was responsible for making sure everything in the universe stayed intact. And now, he probably sent his father to a completely different parallel universe. He's not even sure how to get him back.

His heart was racing. He's the one who handles all of the chaos, yet somehow, he's the one causing it. The pink haired man started thinking about how he could possibly fix this, but then the panic set in. What if there's no way to get him back? What if he's lost forever in some random world? He tried to calm himself down, but the truth was, he really couldn't. It was getting harder and harder to control his powers. He could feel his mind getting weaker, like a rubber band that was stretched too far. There was only one thing he could do now.

He needed to find a way to reinflate those damaged limiters and get control back. Fast. How did this escalate to this point?

ꪖ ꪗꫀꪖ᥅ ꫀ᥅ꪖᦓꫀᦔ (A Year Erased)

𝓣he sharp shrill of thunder outside boomed, jolting me awake. Everything felt so numb. Where am I?

My hand fumbles a bit before reaching across the small nightstand, knocking over a glass of water before finding the source of the noise. Silence returned, but my heart hammered against my ribs. Something felt… Wrong. I slowly sat up, observing my surroundings. This bedroom looked the same as before -- gray walls, a cluttered desk with papers, a night lamp, and a worn leather jacket hung over the chair.

But there was a weight in the air, a heaviness I couldn’t place.

It wasn’t until I swung my legs over the side of the bed that I noticed it.

A note.

A small piece of paper rested on the nightstand, written in hurried, slanted handwriting:

"Don't trust anyone -- not even yourself."

The words sent a quiet chill in my spine. What did those even mean? Was this a prank? The closer I look at it, the more I realize I don't recognize this handwriting.

I grabbed the note and turned it over, hoping for some clue, but the back was blank. Swallowing hard, I tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Nothing was there.

No fragments of a party, no blurry memories of too many drinks, not even a sense of how I got home. I checked my phone for answers, scrolling through my messages and call logs, but there was nothing recent -- just a blank stretch of time that made my stomach twist.

Then I saw the date.

[ March 15th, 2019. ]

My phone fell and clattered with the floor on impact. The last date I remembered was March 15th -- of last year.

I let myself scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over the pile of clothes on the floor, and ran to the mirror. My reflection stared back, familiar yet different. My hair was longer than I remembered, my face thinner. A faint scar curved along my jawline, one I didn't recognize.

Panic surged in my chest and took over my mind. I then tore through my closet, rifling through clothes that weren't mine -- jackets I'd never bought, shoes I didn't recognize. Even the books on my shelf were unfamiliar, their spines worn as if I'd read them a hundred times.

What the hell had happened to me?

The sound of a door creaking open made me freeze. I turned slowly, the note already crumpled in my fist.

"H-Hello?" I called, my voice shaking.

No answer.

I stepped into the hallway, my bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. The sterile apartment was eerily quiet, every creak and groan of the old building increased in the silence.

When I reached the kitchen, I stopped.

There, on the counter, was another note.

"It's not safe here. They're watching."

I feel a lump form in my throat as I stared at the message, my composure being already shaken. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my hands felt clammy.

"Who's watching?" I whispered.

dokja ♡

MIKU

An Error (Part 2)

The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft orange hue through the windows of the Saiki household as Kusuo sat frozen in the middle of his room.

His mind raced, his body tense, his powers still in turmoil from the chaotic sneeze that had displaced his father to some unknown world. [Dad... Where did you go?] He clenched his fists, frustration boiling in his chest.

Saiki sat in silence, fighting the growing sense of panic. His mind couldn't focus -- his power felt like it was slipping from his control, and the more he thought about his father's disappearance, the more impossible it seemed to fix.

He had to fix his limiters. It was his only chance of getting control back. He had barely been able to notice that the clips were deflating, let alone make sure they were inflated to the correct level before the disaster struck.

[This is bad... This is really bad.]

In the back of his mind, he was very aware of the fact that his mother was downstairs, oblivious to the mess that had unfolded. The house was unusually quiet now, the hum of the evening settling in. Kusuo was in no mood to face her, not when he knew how much trouble he'd gotten himself into. His mother was sweet and caring, but even her patience had limits.

The sound of soft footsteps came from the hallway below, and Kusuo's heart skipped a beat. He was still panicking, and he didn't need his mother finding out. Not yet. Not when everything was so... Broken.

The door to his room creaked open.

"Sweetheart? Kusuo? I've been calling you for the past few minutes, are you feeling alright?" His mother's voice echoed through the door, gentle and kind, as always.

He couldn't face her. Not like this. He didn't even know how to explain what had happened, let alone the possibility that he might never see his father again. It was too much, even for him.

She stepped inside, peering over the threshold of the door. Her eyes softened when she saw him sitting on the floor, his expression clouded. "What happened?" She asked, worried as she walked over. Her tone was calm, but concern lingered beneath it. "Kusuo, you're acting strange. Is something wrong?"

Kusuo didn't look at her. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to admit the truth. So instead, he just shook his head, giving her the most neutral response he could muster.

[I'm fine. Just... Tired.]

His mother's purple eyes narrowed slightly, not fully convinced. "You didn't answer me when I called. Have you seen your father? He's been gone for a while now, and he's not answering his phone."

Kusuo's heart stopped again. The room felt colder all of a sudden, his thoughts spinning. His mom was starting to notice... That was the last thing he needed. But he couldn't just tell her the truth. The very idea of explaining what happened -- how he might have sent his father to a completely different dimension -- was impossible. His powers were something his mom didn't fully understand, and if she found out...

If she found out, she'd never let him out of her sight again.

[I... I haven't seen him either.] He hoped his voice sounded calm enough, but even as he said the words, the nagging fear in his chest grew.

His mother pursed her lips, clearly unsure of whether to believe him. "Well, I’ve been trying to call him, and he’s not answering. I’m going to call the police."

Kusuo's eyes behind his green tinted glasses widened, and the last thing he needed was his mom calling the cops. That would just complicate everything. He couldn't let her do that. He had to stop her, but how? She was already on edge, and the thought of his dad being missing could easily drive her to panic.

[Mom, don't.] His tone of words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn't care. His mind was racing. He needed to keep her from escalating this. He couldn't afford to have anyone looking for his dad -- especially not the police. Who knew what they'd do? He didn't even know where his dad was, let alone how to find him.

His mother looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern. "What do you mean, 'don't'? Kusuo, your father is missing! This is serious."

[I know, but...] He hesitated for a moment, trying to hold onto some sort of composure. [It's not like that. He's probably just out, you know? He's always doing strange things, and sometimes he just forgets to tell us where he's going.]

The words felt hollow even as they left his mind. He couldn't even pretend to believe it himself. His father was gone.

His mother didn't seem entirely convinced, but the concern in her face was still there, and she was getting closer to breaking down. Kusuo's stomach churned with guilt as he sucked in a breath.

She sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Alright. I won't call the police just yet, but if he doesn't show up soon..." She trailed off, unsure, but then she nodded. "I'll give him another hour. Just... Please, let me know if you hear anything. I know you've been through a lot, but we need to work together on this."

Kusuo’s heart pounded in his chest. She was only trying to help, but all he could think about was how much worse everything would get if anyone else found out.

[Yeah, okay. I'll let you know,] he nodded, though his mind was far from the promise. He didn't exactly know how he could fix this. How could he tell her that he was the one who made his father disappear? He couldn't. She'll panic even more.

As his mother left the room, sending a final look over her shoulder, Kusuo was left alone again, his body still rigid as ice, his thoughts were all consumed by the disaster he had caused. He wasn't even sure where to begin. He wasn't familiar with this kind of situation. He'll have to solve this on his own.

He had to fix it, but the more he thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed.

[What if I can't fix it?]

Threads of Dusk ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

❝ The sky stitched with waning gold, A tale of day, now softly told. The sun will sink low, its fire dim, A lantern's light on sunset's brim.

The world exhales a gentle sigh As dark shadows stretch and kiss the sky. The trees stand stiff, their branches bare, Caught in twilight's tender care.

Each thread of dusk, a brief glow, Untangled fast, yet sweet and slow. It intertwines the night with quiet grace, A tapestry time can't replace.

So linger here, in soft repose, Where every hour comes, then goes. For in the dusk, the heart may see, A moment's glance of eternity. ❞

Captain Barnacles + Human?? 👀👀 (for a friend)

🔴can you help me 🇵🇸🍉

This is my home Which was destroyed by the accursed occupation yesterday I'm not sad about the stones I'm sad about the memories I hope this damned war ends 💔💔😔 🍉🇵🇸

vetted by @90-ghost