Hello, Friend! 🎉❤️

Hello my friends, I am hamdi Ayyad from Gaza talelhawa I have sought refuge with you because of the devastating war that caused me to lose my home and our displacement from one place to another and I lost my children's future and there is a severe shortage of basic materials,I hope that you will stand by us whether by donating if possible or participating widely,Please help me 🙏🏼 🇵🇸 🍉

Please donate or share if you can!

Are you waiting for us to be killed and exterminated? 🍉💔

Can you bear the toothache 🥹

The bombing is surrounding us and there is no safe place to go 💔

To the innocent and the merciful, it is about humanity 😞

Save me from the massacres and certain death!! We may not survive in the coming hours 😞

Don't leave me and my family under genocide 🥹

Donate to me so I can escape the hell of war and undergo my surgeries and go to safety outside Gaza❤️

I hope everyone donates 20 or 30 dollars, it will make a difference for us so we can start a new life outside the stricken Gaza, where we cannot afford the travel costs, and the costs of my treatment ❤️🍉🍉

Share my posts because this will speed up our rescue process ❤️

https://gofund.me/4258a923

Please donate or share if you can?

...end of chapter!

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Hello! I need medication for life to prevent my lungs from collapsing, this implies permanent treatment with steroids, oxygen therapy, control of oxygen in the blood and antibiotics to prevent the development of bacteria in the lungs.

I'm afraid I have to insist on this because it may be the only way to get my treatment.

I need medication for life to keep my lungs from collapsing, this costs around $700 per month.

Things are really tough on me,I can’t afford. Please donate🖤

Please share or donate if you can!

I am Motaz Mohamed ❤ a palestinian youngman from Gaza🍉🇵🇸, seeking to find safety and peace ☝️for my family if twenty members. We have been ❤🇵🇸🍉passing through all forms of torture and pain for almost ten months because of the war on Gaza.

Life is very miserable and tragic❤🇵🇸 as we are now deprived ❤🇵🇸🍉of all means of living. Drink water, healthy food health care and medicine❤🇵🇸 have become things 🇵🇸🍉❤of the past. We are dying dear friends. That is why I am asking you to help us break through this tough situation.Life in hot tents is incredibly sad and miserable. We are now experiencing the worst circumstances we have ever had in our life. The war has stolen happiness and life from us.

Please don't leave us alone in such dire times. Your kind contribution either through donating whatever you can or sharing my posts will be highly appreciated and valued.❤🇵🇸🍉

Please share or donate if you can!

I hope you are well my friend, I am sorry, I really need you today, because I need to have my operation that was postponed many times because of the war on Gaza, now the operation needs $600,💔🇵🇸 please donate what you can and participate, may God bless you 🙏

Please share of donate if you can!

snap back to reality, kon.

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My writing

Here is Suzanne Chazin's The Long Journey Home but in omegaverse, I don't know why I did this. I even posted this on ao3.

“A letter arrived from your mother,” my friend Aoi said, the thin air-mail envelope crackled like rice paper in her hands. I nodded but didn’t move. “Perhaps you’ll read it later,” she offered. I had arrived in Japan after finishing college. The trip was my mom’s graduation present, and he had talked excitedly about my returning home. But two months later I wrote that I might remain to teach English. I knew my letter would pain him, and I dreaded his response. As I sat in the sparsely furnished room, I recalled tales of my mom’s youth, riding the rails during the Great Depression. He had been a hobo then, as full of wanderlust as I was now. If I had vagabond blood in my veins, I’d gotten it from him. I thought about the gift that got my mom to quit his wandering. It was my favorite story of his life on the road - and I could practically recite it by heart. In fact, I could almost hear is Brooklyn-edged voice telling me now: He was 20, traveling in a freight car across the western foothill of the Rocky Mountains. The other men, mostly alphas in the car were scattered along the walls, their dusty faces as empty as their pockets. Their work clothes were worn, their hands callused from hard work. Each stared silently out the open doors as if he had some particular destination in mind. They were heading east, but they were all going nowhere. My mom had left New York a year and a half earlier. It had been easy to abandon the concrete stoops and corner stores of his neighborhood. There, young men worked odd jobs in factories, when they could find work at all. And old men - mostly Russian immigrants like my grandfather - whiled away their time talking about the motherland. In Russia, my grandfather had been an engineer who spoke four languages. In America, he was a house painter. His friends were counts who now waited tables, and captains who now opened doors and hailed cabs. Late at night, they would talk of the armies they’d led and the banquets they’d attended decades before. They were men who walked in their own shadows.

I can't fit it all in here so here (https://archiveofourown.org/works/62090032) is the link to ao3 where I posted it.

5,000 likes!