🛑🛑Stop🤚 Stop 🛑🛑

Hello dear, I am Mohammed from Gaza. I hope you are well, dear. Please help me. Our tent was flooded while we were sleeping in the streets. We have no shelter. I cannot provide winter clothes for me and my mother to protect us from the cold that has started, and I cannot provide for the basic needs. Please help me. $50 is enough to buy a new tent and winter clothes. Please help me, dear. We live in very harsh conditions. We lost our father before the war and I support my elderly mother and my little siblings. I am in dire need of your donation. You are very aware, even if it is a little. I hope you can help me, dear. Dear, please do not let me down. We deserve life and we deserve your generosity and kindness. You are our lifeline, and with your generosity you give us life, even if it is a little, but you save us from injustice and the cursed war. It is our right and our basic right to live with some comfort and peace. Please do not ignore me. If you cannot help me, that is okay, but do not ignore me. Tell me you can't.

https://gofund.me/2fb33769

Hello👋

Please take a moment to read my story.

I am Heba Al-Dahdouh. I currently live in the completely destroyed city of Gaza. Since the war on Gaza began on 7/1/2024, my family- my father Nasif, my mother Asmaa, and my siblings Khaled, Ahmad, Muhammad, and Malak-have been living in constant fear, crying, and suffering due to shrapnel, shells, and bullets.

We have no food, no electricity, no cooking gas, no schools, no homes, no cleaning supplies, and no clothes. My school has been bombed, and my brother Khaled's university is now rubble, depriving us all of education. The war has forced us to live in displacement centers, which are just tents unsuitable for living, especially in winter.

Every day we live death, terror, and panic a thousand times because of the ongoing bombardment of my city. The war has killed more than 50 of my relatives and neighbors. At the start of the war, we sought refuge at my aunt's house, . Imagine: we have survived imminent death more than 20 times and have been displaced among shelters more than 13 times. My siblings and I have suffered from many illnesses due to malnutrition, and we need medication continuously.

gofundme.com

Donate to Helping Heba Family : Escaping War to a New Life, organised by Heba Nasef

Dear friends around the world, Greetings to you from Gaza, the land of pe… Heba Nasef needs your support for Helping Heba Family : Escaping

If we stay in Gaza, we might lose our lives. Recently, we have been seriously considering leaving Gaza for a safe place. However, travel costs are extremely high. We need over $50,000 to leave Gaza. Due to exorbitant prices, rampant unemployment, lack of security, the ongoing siege, and relentless bombardment, we have lost all our money. How can we live in such insecurity, with constant shelling and shrapnel flying above us? Dear compassionate friends around the world,

With your generous donations, even if small, you can save 7 people from imminent death, allowing us to start a life outside Gaza filled with love, peace, and hope.

With my warmest regards from the city of Gaza,

Heba Al-Dahdouh.

A frequent night terror that goes both ways

By ‘DMs Open’ what I really mean is that I’m in desperate need of a social life and want to connect with other people in the communities and fan bases I find myself in, but I’m too anxious to start a conversation with anyone first, and I worry that if I were to just text out of he blue the person I’m messaging may think I’m weird or a creep, and I know that I’d be on-and-off in terms of availability and emotional connection anyway, and it’s not like I’m especially funny or charming and my texts are mediocre at best, but I really want to talk to people, only, wanting that makes me feel guilty because it feels like I’m treating the concept of ‘conversation’ as a commodity and novelty rather than thinking of the conversation itself as one, and speaking of conversation there is a lot of lack-there-of on my part and I really want to apologize to people for that but I don’t want to really burden them with an apology or ruin the mood with it, so I end up straying away, spiritually ghosting them mid-text and then go without any meaningful social interaction for a month or few until I get the sudden itching urge to literally individually text everyone I know of to see if any want to be my friends, and I feel bad knowing that I’ll lose interest in conversating in a couple weeks anyway so what’s the point, and it all loops around and then I feel bad ’cause I realize that I’m ‘accidentally’ love-bombing everyone except it’s not really an accident because I already knew this would happen, and then I feel even more terrible, then proceed to feel terrible about feeling terrible, but I still want friends, only, the last message I got was from a year ago and suddenly appearing back out of the blue to reconnect and then probably eventually gradually ghosting them is a terrible idea and they’ll probably think I’m a creep, and I’m probably overthinking this but human nature is wanting to meet and talk to people, even if it only happens sporadically when a white, three-legged calf is born under the red moon in Botswana or something, and I still want to talk but I don’t because I don’t wanna ruin anyone’s day or life or have them miss me if we somehow connect and I go and do my little antisocial bit, but I still wanna talk and AAAAAAAAAAAAA anyways, DMs are open B)

Growing up!

Fundraiser spotlight: Safaa, Muhammed and Amir

I have another specific fundraiser I’d like to share with you all: today I spoke to Safaa ( @sfaamq10 here on tumblr), a mother to a little boy named Amir. Safaa and her husband Muhammed had their son inside a tent about 9 months ago, and they’ve been trying to provide for him ever since while raising money in order to get to safety.

As of writing this, they’ve raised about $15,975 out of their $75,000 goal. They still need around $60,000 until they can reach their target. Safaa has also had past accounts on here taken down, which has hindered her ability to raise the money she needs.

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Safaa's Quest To Get Her Family To Safety., organized by Sarah Edwards

Hello, I am Safaa from Gaza. I am 26 years old, married and have a ch… Sarah Edwards needs your support for Support Safaa's Quest To Get Her

Please share this post widely and donate if you’re able to! Safaa and her family could really use the support ❤️❤️❤️

At The End of The Road

—From June 8 2021

TW // mentions of injury , nukes , mentions of war, mentions of death, major character death, tubbo death

Nothing felt right. That was all right, all right, the whole left side of his body was burnt badly and he was beaten and bruised. He’d only been able to escape due to the army of totems left behind. Totems. He wondered what would happen to them in his final act, of the final act. Would they be used? Blown to smithereens? Maybe they wouldn’t even get scratched? Dropping them from the highest point of the SMP didn’t work, what was to say nukes would? He staggered over to the military base, abandoned for the war, looking worse for wear. Manifold had kicked him out long since and this was enforced via turrets, but with them gone to manifold’s inventory ‘to shift the tides of war in his favor’, there were none left to defend the base. (Everything nowadays was about the war. That was how Ranboo had gone, a small pendant safely secured around his neck with gold strings, gone to help the syndicate. For the war. For his family. For his friends.) He’d gone in guns blazing, expecting death, but even then they’d failed to kill him. (They’d failed to kill Tommy too, and in embarrassment had killed him off in the veil of night, in his own bed, in his own home.) He stopped retreating into memories of the far past, taking strut after strut into the lab he once shared. He’d considered Manifold a friend, and for a brief moment wondered if they would forgive him, if he didn’t draw the curtains. They stood before the furthest room, metal door left ajar, left unconsidered. Paper was strewn about everywhere in the corridor, covered in dirt and dust, as were the walls with vines. He ignored the papers, useless in all their redacted glory. Within the room he walked up to the rightmost wall, counting the grooves between the tiles. Made of a mixture of bone, concrete, and quartz, a powerful block that they’d invented together, pulled together by a common silicone mixture recommended by Foolish. In what felt like seconds he’d counted all the way up to twenty, and sure enough, right there, was a small ridge, that he’d marked out a long time ago. He placed the lever that he’d stolen from one of the control panels. If he was doing this, he was doing it his way. A brief image of Wilbur in his final moments appeared before him, just as Philza had described it. He wondered for a second, if they were any different at all. A button or a lever, all that it took. The stampede of feet echoed in the distance, ringing in his ears. Maybe Eret was wrong, maybe nothing does change. He felt himself smile, for the first time in a long while, as he braced himself for the inevitable. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing” J- Manifold’s voice echoed from the doorway. At this, he could only let slip one sentence. No bitter resentment in his tone, no positive delight. A simple, genuine drawl. One practiced and thought through.

“I’ll get to be the antagonist to their protagonist.”

It was said under his breath, with such conviction, such childishness he said it, but such was honesty. He leaned his back against the lever, arms having gone completely numb a little ago. The burns rushed against himself in a cold flare, darkness overtaking him. O’ sweet freedom at last; and although he wasn’t a particularly religious person, he wondered for a brief second, if they’d ever collide again in other worlds.

Dear Generous donors

I hope u all fine.

Our lives have become very difficult. There are no minimum necessities for life , there is nothing .

I came to you today to tell you about a dream before my birthday, which is 11/11. I hope to reach our first goal, which is for Amira.(5000 usd )

Plz if anyone see this post 5 Aud make difference .

https://gofund.me/65d3c667

Sorry for sharing 😞🙏

@bilal-salah0 @appsa @feluka

why are people making angsty c!tommy headcanons about c!wilbur smoking when instead you can imagine the numerous ridiculous things that tommy must have done to get wilbur to stop

wilbur, walking in: hi t-

tommy, who has covered the place in ‘No Smoking Signs’: hi wilbur (:

one day wilbur goes to grab a cigarette and instead finds a bunch of lollipops. he goes to grab some others and finds a 64 pack of crayola crayons. tommy has replaced all of the ones he has with increasingly ridiculous items. at one point wilbur goes to grab a cigarette and instead finds an entire rubber goose.

at one point after wilbur’s revival tommy bribes everyone into putting up ‘No Smoking’ signs with anti-smoking hotlines on them

wilbur, trying to talk to techno: oh hi t- what’s that

techno, who owns like 4 of them because phil is old and he isn’t taking risks: addiction is a disease wilbur

The ceasefire in Gaza has begun, and thank God we are still alive and well.

Thanks to your generous support, we have been able to get through these difficult times.

Your help was not just financial, it was a life-saving gift for our family.

There is not much time left for our campaign, and if you can contribute again, it will make a huge difference in accelerating our journey to safety. Your contribution may also inspire others to donate, helping us reach our goal faster.

DONATE 🍁