DONT SKIP🚨🇵🇸

This is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

Imagine you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams, memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over. 🙏🏻🍉

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

Wait, it's urgent you understand‼️

These people have only reached 9% of their goal. Please help them reach it!!

// au, dsmp, rp

- mentions of death, like, a heavy existential crisis

immortal phil au where he is actually an asshole. he's been alive for thousands of years, he's seen people fall innocent or guilty, he's gotten attached and lost everything and repeat more times than he can count.

but after it happens so often - that's all people are to him. an hourglass, with its sand slowly but surely running around, a ticking bomb that could blow his heart to pieces again at any time, for he only knows the timer exists, he doesn't know what time it displays.

he meets techno, someone who's lived for a little bit longer than others - centuries are meer child’s play for phil - and techno is, well. valuable. he's a skilled fighter, and he's clever, and he's fun to be around.

and so phil indulges- but keeps his distance. goes with techno on adventures, starts empires and begins great tales, takes him on flights and resource runs and teaches him, all the while they're happy, and phil's happy, and he's occupied until inevitably techno passes and he'll be on his own again.

there's nights in the empire where techno will almost reach out, almost, almost. he holds out his hand - metaphorically - and almost begs phil to follow, to slide his hand in his and let techno lead them forward for once, to great times of wars and conquer, and phil looks away, backs out, raises his walls and leaves until it gets better, because he- he's better than this, he doesn't get attached, he doesn't need techno in his life, this is just a momentary little friendship that he can milk experience and reputation from until techno dies- that's what he tells himself.

but he's scared, somewhere deep- terrified of opening his heart once more to someone who could throw it in his face the next year, month, day, hour, if he's not careful, because he so painfully knows techno's timer exists and beeps loudly but he doesn't know when it will go silent and play out the last breaths techno will ever take.

and before he knows it, every day spent on his own, every night spent ignoring techno's hitched breath and darkened eyes glossed from nightmares, every day spent dodging techno's attempts at something more, something like a warm presence for his cold eternal heart - he can't wait to get back to techno. he always takes a step back, raises his shield and throws on a brave face, but then he's longing to be spending the nights around campfires again, craving that warm sunlight as they lay in the fresh grass and enjoy the warmth of the rare summers in the arctic.

he didn't mean for it to be this way, he didn't mean for techno to become something- something more than just a playful hot potato game with the slowly emptying hourglass techno really is, but he can't handle life without techno anymore, can't imagine himself without him, because when he wakes he thinks if techno's slept well, when he cooks their food he thinks if techno prefers salted over sweetened, and when he shivers out in the wild arctic he thinks, is technoblade cold, or is he huddled around the fireplace and cozy and everything phil longs to be at night?

and then he finds himself wasting his days away pouring over old books full of knowledge that even transcends him, the bags in his eyelids getting heavier and limbs drooping, aching with lack of sleep as he trails over every word, searching.

immortality, life expansions, revival, resurrection.

he finds nothing.

and then he screams, and screams again, and throws the books into the fireplace with as much hate as he can muster, because they're the reason techno will be dead, the reason why techno's hourglass will shatter and scatter all the precious sand for phil to try and fail to pick up and repair.

he wails and he breaks swords against walls and he cries, loud and raw and heartbreakingly open for the universe to see, because there's no denying or helping it anymore; techno's going to leave him, and he'll be alone, and the warm days will turn withering and freezingly cold, because no matter how much the sun tries to hold him together for a little more, without techno, he'll never be whole again.

he comes back, eventually, thinks it must be the world's disgusting sense of wicked humor that forces him to walk up to the empire's doors again- no, not forced. he wants to be here. he needs to.

and he's open again, back in techno's arms and throat too hoarse to talk, but techno understands and looks at him with eyes that threaten to pull phil all the way down to the bottom of the earth and leave him longing, longing to see the amusement and joy and cheer in techno's eyes instead.

and that night he dusts the old libraries, sets his bed, wipes down the windows and cooks them a meal for the night, and as he looks out into the wild arctic he feels no need to leave anymore.

that morning, he wakes next to techno, and makes breakfast with techno, and feeds their chickens with techno, and he thinks, cathartically in some fucked up way, techno will die one day. he will pass, he will close his eyes for the last time and breathe out the final breath. and phil will be okay.

phil will be okay because when that day comes he'll be there, right by his side, holding his hand and leading him to the other side, and he'll be okay because they'll have precious memories and adventures behind them, and phil will be there for them all.

he'll grieve, and he'll be alone, but he'll be okay, because he'll never leave techno's side again. he doesn't long for immortality, or to have a dance with death to drop to his knees and beg, not him, please not him, not yet, because it'll be okay in the end, whenever techno's day will be, because regardless of what happens, phil would have been there, and he would have made techno's life outweigh the pain in his burning heart.

Please donate to Eslam family!

“My name is Eslam from Gaza, I’m 29 years old, and I’m a children teacher from Khan Yunis in the Gaza Strip. a mother of two daughters, Hanaa 5 years old, and Alma, 10 months old. My husband Rasmi is the director of 3 language and training centers. In this war, our house was completely destroyed and razed to the ground, and my husband’s centers were blown up. He lost his job, and we were completely displaced, and we are now homeless and jobless, My two young daughters constantly suffer from diseases due to malnutrition and water pollution.

Danger and death surround us all day and all night. We have lost everything and depend on donations to survive and, most of all, to have any hope of escaping this genocide and evacuating to safety in Egypt. The cost of daily living continues to rise significantly in Gaza - imagine that we cannot find the type of milk for our daughter because of its high price. There is no kind of detergent and this is the cause of skin diseases for my two little girls. We bought a piece of soap for $30! ، and detergent is 100$"

As of 8:46pm November 11, 2024 (GMT+8) $31,955 raised out of $50,000

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Eslam Save Her Family, organized by Victoria Beauchamp

My name is Victoria, from the greater Chicagoland area, and I am starting this fundraise… Victoria Beauchamp needs your support for Help Esl

vetted: bees and watermelon spreadsheet #175

@eslamfa9 @eslamfa8

hey reminder that connecting humanity is extremely low on esims rn and desperately needs esim donations and also that there are a lot of cool things you can get in exchange for a donation

Hello everyone 👋 I hope you are well. I am Sondos from Gaza. I have a family, a husband and two children. We lost everything during this war, our home and our work. We no longer have a source of income. My husband had a heart valve transplant 💔 and he cannot work. My father needs treatment after having an operation. We are missing all the features. Life is difficult to buy food and clean water. Help me for the sake of my children and my family 🇵🇸 Your donation, no matter how small, will make a difference in our lives. I trust you and your support 🇵🇸🍉 for us. My account has been verified

Please stop and help my family 😢

I am Saba, a nurse, and I have not finished my last year of education. I am married and live with my family from Gaza. I have a family of 5 people, my father and mother. My father is mentally ill and suffers greatly. My sister has children who suffer from lack of food. My niece is chronically ill with diabetes and the situation is getting worse every day. She needs a lot of care and organized and very expensive food. We do not have money and the severe cold in the tent is becoming more dangerous with the rain every day. Every day my family is becoming more dangerous. Please help save my children, my father, my mother and my family 😭

https://gofund.me/5adfe159

@gothhabiba @tsaricides @buttercuparry @appsdotli @feluka @turian @sylvianritual @brokenbackmountain @dirhwangdaseul @appsa @postanagramgenerator @pcktknife @heritageposts @omegaversereloaded @theinconvenientlifestyle @punkitt-is-here @officialspec2 @transmutationdice @northgazaupdates2 @northgazaupdates2 @dragondemoness @divortion @anarcho-smarmyism @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @anarcho-smarmyism @wellwaterhysteria @deathlonging @mazzikaty @mahoushojo @deepspaceboytoy

Save my family from hunger and cold 😭🍉‼️

TommyInnit and Tubbo_ have just earned the achivement [Teamwork]

TW // Tommy death, hinted suicide

The first time he hurt himself was when he was only six years old. He doesn’t really remember it, and only knows it through tales that his family would recite to him and the etched scars across his body. They have forgotten now, as they have many other things.

They told him that it was a rainy day, or, that was how it was told most of the time. The grass was wet and slippery and he’d fallen prey to it, after having snuck away from the family.

One wrong step; he tripped; he fell; and he could’ve very much died there, if they weren't already on the search for him already.

The horror didn’t really come to him. Not really, when he barely remembers it having happened himself, and he might’ve regarded it as a false memory if the scars didn’t exist as witness.

Though, thinking about it now, blood cold on his back and head barely functioning, with only the sound of the ocean in the distance, solitude, alone, he feels that maybe he hadn’t forgotten the horror, per se, but that the horror hadn’t existed in the first place.

The Dream SMP is a love story.

Not a traditional one by any means. There’s a lot more blood, a lot more death, a lot more broken bones.

It’s about the love between the revolutionary and his right-hand man. The one that became fraternal, that went between life and death, that demonstrates how love and hate are not opposites but counterparts. That they are fuelled by care, by fear, by the inability to let go even when it makes your hands bleed. The inability to stop following even though your feet are tired, because at least then you can tell yourself you’re not lost.

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