The Devil Couldn't Reach Me So He Made Me A 5'2 Girl With The Appetite Of A 6'4 Man

Helping Muhamed and His Family🇵🇸🥺

gofundme.com

Donate to Aiutare Mohamed e la sua famiglia, organized by Giuseppe Nebbioso

Ciao a tutti mi chiamo Giuseppe e scrivo da Bologna, questa è la storia di Mohamed… Giuseppe Nebbioso needs your support for Aiutare Mohamed

🌹 Hello👋, my name is Mohammed Al-Deeb.

I am reaching out with a heavy heart and a plea for help🌻❤️. The recent war in Gaza has shattered my family's life and left us in dire circumstances.

We were once a family of 17 living peacefully🥀, but now we are homeless and struggling to find shelter and stability.* My mother, sisters, nephews, and brother are suffering from severe psychological and health issues as a result of the disaster. We've lost our home and our means of earning a living, and now we face each day with uncertainty and fear🙇🏻🌷.

We desperately need your support 🙇🏻🌷,to find a safe place to live and rebuild our lives.🙏 “The current situation is harder than one can imagine. My family and I were kicked out of our house nine months ago and displaced south, leaving behind memories, friends, and belongings. Our home was a paradise where we lived, and my father worked in a car repair shop under our house, which was destroyed. 💔🥺 Every contribution, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to regaining a sense of security and hope🌸❤️.

I never expected my house to be demolished one day and sleep homeless🥺🙇🏻 It’s hard to imagine suffering when your dreams crash🥀💔, when you have nothing to eat, and you can’t do anything, half of us sleep in a tent while the other half sleep outdoors😔, in the midst of this freezing cold. 🌷🌺

Our lives are full of fear and destruction from bombings and indiscriminate bullets. Every day, we migrate, and we erect temporary nylon and cloth tents. My older sister is suffering from back pain and there are no hospitals to treat her at this time that currently need urgent treatment abroad. We are happy that our lives will return to normal.

Every night, we sleep in fear, wondering if we will wake up, or whether we will die and remain unrecognized.🍉❤️‍🩹I'm terrified of losing my family Please understand our pain and help us.🌻❤️

I am a university student studying engineering, and I had big dreams and aspirations. But the war on Gaza destroyed everything.🍉❤️‍🩹

My dreams and ambitions were shattered, and I lost everything I worked for. Now, I live amidst the devastation and despair, 💔😔

desperately needing your urgent support to rebuild my academic and professional life. Your help will not just be material support, but a new hope and a chance to reclaim my future.🙇🏻💔

Please, help me stand again and continue my journey. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.🥺🙏

🥹🍉🙏

gofundme.com

Donate to Aiutare Mohamed e la sua famiglia, organized by Giuseppe Nebbioso

Ciao a tutti mi chiamo Giuseppe e scrivo da Bologna, questa è la storia di Mohamed… Giuseppe Nebbioso needs your support for Aiutare Mohamed

Note: My GoFundMe account is in Italian because a friend from Italy wanted to help me and created this campaign. I have translated it into English here, and I will soon ask him to translate it on GoFundMe.🌻

Thank you, and I am new to the Tumblr community. I hope you will help us share our story and raise awareness.❤️🌹

@90-ghost ~ @sar-soor ~ @nabulsi

@sayruq ~ @intersectionalpraxis

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt ~@i-am-aprl ~@northgazaupdates2 ~

@transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @khanger @evillesbianvillain @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah

@omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @tododeku-or-bust

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli

@sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe @wayneradiotv

I love you all🥹❤️‍🩹

can help by vetted my campaign

€435 raised of €65.00goal

🍉CLICK HERE TO MAKE A DONATION🍉

Thank you, my friend, for your support and confidence. I hope to have all the support and appreciation🌻🍉

@mohammedalanqer 🌸😊

Look at the opinions of some bloggers in my blog.❤️‍🩹🍉

Unfortunately, my previous account has been restricted from sending messages, so this is my new account 💔🥺

@mohammedrabahhisfamily

🥺🍉

Please follow me on this account and be confident that I am❤️

Hello sorry for an ask. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

praying for your wellness!!

as always, donate if you’re able to!! if you can’t, share this message‼️‼️‼️

This shit is such a scam

The number goes down by a lot, body looks same

The number goes slightly up, AND I LOOK LIKE A ROTTING WHALE WTF

energy drink on an empty stomach >>>

don’t ruin the feeling of an empty stomach with food <33

Having an ed and not being skinny is torture😭 st4rving and being fat feels so pointless.

spring break is here so i can finally do omad for a week thank the lorddd

my greatest motivation rn is literally me in a bikini bc wtf i am NOT looking like that this summer..

I Missed My Funeral

jason todd x reader

aka you learn what happened to jason

warnings: detailed discussion of how jason died, this is not so happy but i can promise you my jason angst will always have comfort

You wonder if your nightmares are accurate.

Your brain is probably just conjuring up every worst case scenario it can fathom, but maybe there’s truth to one of them. You hope not.

It’s something you haven’t been able to keep out of your mind these past few weeks, and everything seems to remind you of it. When you see his guns, when you’re using a knife to cut up dinner, when you see a car crash on the news, or even when you walk past a fucking pharmacy. The thoughts are everywhere, all the time.

Even as you lay in bed, head on his chest, your mind keeps on drifting where you wish it wouldn’t.

You know he died. He never said it out loud, but you’d seen his autopsy scar plenty of times. You’d always refrained from asking questions, he seemed nervous enough the first handful of times he was around you with his shirt off. Enough time has passed that he’s comfortable being shirtless around you, even okay when you touch his chest. The decrease in boundaries has granted you more solace in one another, but it’s also caused your mind to go wild with possibilities. 

Even now, as you lie against his bare chest, you can’t keep your cat-killing thoughts away.

“You’re being quiet,” He comments, not accusatory, just factual. 

You snap out of reverie, “Sorry, I—”

His hand soothes up and down your arm without pause, “Don’t be sorry. What’s going on?”

“I just…” you look down, thinking over your words. “What…what happened to you?” You ask quietly.

He goes still. 

You immediately regret bringing it up, sitting up from his chest to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, I don’t need to—”

He shakes his head. The slightest response from him shuts you right up. “No, it’s…it’s okay. Probably should’ve said something by now.”

He nudges your head back down to his chest and you oblige, trying to relax your body against him again. It’s a difficult thing to talk yourself into when his isn’t any more relaxed.

“I…you know I used to be Robin?” His voice is low, hesitant.

You nod.

“Well…I made a mistake—a few mistakes. I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been and I walked into a trap.”

You’re sure he’s placing more blame on himself than he should, though you don’t know enough to fight him on it yet. You wrap your hand around his forearm that drapes across your chest, a silent affirmation that you’re here with nothing but support and reassurance.

His breath stutters, “The, uh…the Joker set me up and…well, he killed me.”

You don’t want to ask how. You don’t want to know how. But you feel like you have to and it’s selfish and you know that but you can’t leave just it at that. 

It’s a barely audible whisper. You’re not even sure Jason could fully hear the word, but he understands the intent anyway.

His next exhale is shaky, “Yeah, um, that’s the rough part.”

Your head twitches. “That’s the rough part?” You breathe out, scared to hear what’s next.

You can’t see from this angle, but Jason’s eyes are welling over, trying desperately not to let tears fall. It takes him a moment to prepare himself to verbalize the next part. 

“He…he be—” he stops himself. “…He hit me with a crowbar. A lot.”

Oh.

You can physically feel your chest sink.

That’s worse than all the horrifying scenarios you’d built up in your head. That’s…he was beaten to death. For trying to help people. 

You don’t want to leave him in the silence for too long, so you ask the only thing you can think to. 

“How old were you?” 

He drops his head to press his mouth against your head, like he’s trying to ground himself. “Fifteen,” He murmurs into your hair.

Oh.  

You flip over so you’re chest to chest with him and hold him tight. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t expecting you to say that. The very very few times he’s had anything even remotely relating to this conversation, the revelation is always met by silence. Or worse.

But you’re sorry. No one’s ever said that to him before. About anything, but especially this. What does sorry even mean in this context? You didn’t do anything, are you sorry for asking? Do you…do you feel bad for him?

He swallows hard, “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah,” You say, furrowing your brow. “You’re a good person, Jay. You’re a really good person and…you didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you. Especially that. I hate that you’ve been through so much and I’m sorry.”

He refuses to blink but the tears are threatening to win anyways with nowhere else to go. 

He shakes his head weakly, “It was my own fault.” 

“Jason,” you say seriously. “It was not your fault. You were trying to help someone, weren’t you?”

It takes him a moment to respond to that. “I—yeah. Yes. My mom. My birth mom.” He takes a breath, “He, uh, he was blackmailing her and I tried to help her—I tried. But she gave me up to try and save herself…it didn’t matter in the end.”

While you didn’t know about the history with his birth mom, you’d been sure he’d died helping someone. That’s just who he is—whether he knows it or not.

“There was a bomb and it…” He lets that bit trail off. “I don’t remember the explosion. I think I passed out before it happened.”

He doesn’t remember the explosion. But…

He does remember the other part.

You have to drop your head into his neck so that he doesn’t see the way your eyes well up. 

“Please know you’re a good person. Please,” you plead. “You’re the best person I know.”

“But…” his breath comes out shaky, “No one…no one did anything.” 

The tears fall now, and in spite of the fact that he hasn’t let himself cry in front of anyone since he was ten, he doesn’t feel the usual burning impulse to hide. Not from you.

His voice breaks as he says, “He killed me and he didn’t…”

You sit up straight again and hold his face in your hands, looking him in the eye. “That’s not your fault. Whatever Bruce did or didn’t do, it has nothing to do with you. It’s all about him.”

You gently wipe his tears with your thumb as the weight of his head drops forward, leaving your touch the only thing holding him up.

You know he has…problems with Bruce. You know his death is a sore subject among them for more reasons than the obvious. You also know the Joker still lives and breathes today and there’s some sort of rule or agreement that Jason isn’t allowed out on patrol when he’s loose. 

There’s clear trust issues there, on both sides, but you’ve always had trouble figuring out what exactly Bruce had done to leave Jason so closed off. It pushed him away from his family and caused potentially irreparable scarring to his ability to trust other people. It actually makes a lot of sense that this is what caused the rift between them—you’d been thinking maybe Bruce was the reason Jason died or he couldn’t stop it, but this…this is a different kind of damaging. Fuck, no wonder Jason feels like he doesn’t belong in his family. 

You take a heavy breath, “You’re important. You’re important to me and whatever moral roadblocks Bruce couldn’t get over doesn’t change that—it has nothing to do with how good you are.” 

You’re definitely crying now but at this point it doesn’t matter. It’s more important for him to hear this than for you to pretend like this isn’t as horrible as it is.

He doesn’t look up at you but you can see his own tears dripping off his face. You don’t see him cry very much at all, and definitely not like this.

You sniffle, “Do you wanna switch?”

He nods against your palms and lets you out of his hold to sit up as he shifts lower on the bed and wraps his arms around your torso. You weave one of your hands in his hair and stroke softly. The other rubs soothing patterns on his back, feeling the heaviness of his breath under it.

You kiss the top of his head, “I love you. So much.”

He holds you tighter, murmuring “I love you,” into your chest.

It’s quiet for several minutes after as you both process the words said.

You’re the first to pipe up again, “How did…”

He exhales, “Ah…it’s a little complicated…”

He wants to talk about it another time. That’s fine by you.

Another silent minute passes before, “Bruce isn’t…he’s not a bad…we had a lot of problems after I came back. Both of us. Took a while to get over ‘em.” There’s a beat before, “Still getting over ‘em.” 

You nod, continuing tracing onto his back. His voice is clearer again, stronger.

“Is that why you don’t like being at the batcave?” you ask.

“No,” he murmurs. “It’s ‘cause he keeps the suit on display.”

You look down at him, frowning. “What suit?”

“The robin suit.”

You pause.

“That robin suit?”

He nods.

…what

for clarification bc i think i thought this was canon oh well

🔮🕯️the reblog witch bids you do her bidding 🕯️🔮

Rebuild with Me: A Journey from Destruction to Hope

🚨 Urgent Appeal 🚨

Opportunities in life are rare, and when destruction strikes, they can feel like they’ve vanished. But I believe that with strong willpower and support, we can create new opportunities even from the ashes. My name is Osama Basil, and I’m a web developer from Gaza. For nearly a year, I’ve been living through the horrors of war. My office, where I poured my heart into my work, was demolished, and with it, my livelihood, dreams, and ability to provide for my family were shattered.

Each day, life in Gaza becomes increasingly harsh. Destruction and devastation have woven themselves into the fabric of our daily existence, leaving deep scars on our community. The loss of so many friends, colleagues, neighbors, and loved ones weighs heavily on our hearts. Despite these overwhelming challenges, I refuse to give up.

The war took nearly everything from me—my job, my dreams of marriage, the opportunity to pursue a master’s degree, and my ability to support my family. Forced to flee to Rafah with my loved ones, we’ve spent months living in a tent, facing daily challenges to meet our basic needs and find some sense of stability amid the chaos. The lack of stability has made it difficult to maintain even the simplest routines, yet I refuse to let these hardships define me. Every day is a test of resilience, pushing me to adapt and find new ways to continue my work and provide for my family, no matter the obstacles.

🚀Campaign Goals:

I’ve set a goal of €15,000 to rebuild my office, restore my work, and continue my education. More importantly, it will allow me to support my family, who have been deeply affected by our current circumstances.

I’ve outlined how your donations will help achieve this goal. You can find all the details through the campaign link below.

👉Donation link: 🔗https://gofund.me/100da7db

Together, we can turn ashes into opportunities. Thank you for your compassion, your time, and your commitment to freedom and justice.

With deepest gratitude, Osama Basil

✅ This campaign ✅ 🔍 Verified by @gazagfmboost (on this list) 🔍 Vetted by: @90-ghost here 🔍 Vetted by association in this post

👇 "Delve into the depths – Reveal the whole truth."

gofundme.com

Donate to From Rubble to Success: Helping Osama Rebuild His Dream, organized by Osama Basil

Opportunities in life are rare, and when destruction strikes, they… Osama Basil needs your support for From Rubble to Success: Helping Osama

I met my younger self for a coffee today.

She looked at me and went "we're still not skinny??"

I sighed and said "damn girl we're trying, okay??"

IT'S VERY IMPORTANT 🚨

I am Amal from Gaza in Palestine 🇵🇸

We have been suffering from a genocidal war for 333 days 😔

Every day we are exposed to death in addition to the consequences of poverty, hunger, high cost of living, pollution and diseases. 😢💔

Help us by donating to us so that we can leave Gaza and escape certain death 😭😭

Be a reason to save our lives 🩹🤲❤

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Evacuate My Children From GAZA WAR, organized by Danica Cordell

Hello, I am Amal Ghilan, 25 years old, a mother of three children (Abdullah 8 y… Danica Cordell needs your support for Help Evacuate My Chil

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