Decided To Reduce The Age Comparison I Did Three Yrs Ago

blue n reds

During the displacement process from one place to another, my husband was shot by the Zionist vehicles, which led to the deterioration of his health and his transfer to the hospital for treatment. My husband needs a lot of medicine and proper food and needs to undergo an operation quickly for fear of his health deteriorating. The cost of the operation is estimated at $350. Please help me to save my husband so that my family is complete. He is my support now after I lost my family in the war.

gofundme.com

Donate to Shelter and Hope for Aya's Family, organized by Halina Kraft

Help Aya’s Family in Gaza Hello. I am Halina, a friend of Aya in the United Sta… Halina Kraft needs your support for Shelter and Hop

Ĥello

I am mai from Gaza.. 🇵🇸🍉

I hope you are well .

I write to you with a heart full of hope and faith, and I ask for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them.

Please, can you reblog my campaign post on my account? Every participation can make a difference in my family's life.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. 🇵🇸🇵🇸

The campaign was documented by @90-ghost

Please help me even with a donation of $10 to save my familyhttps://www.gofundme.com/f/save-nour-and-her-family-from-war-help-them-escape

Tags to bring attention !!

Save our lives ‼️🚨

"I am Wissam... The last time I hugged someone, it was a corpse." 😭💔

The night was very long that day. I was counting the days until I would give birth to my twins. I brought them names, and planned to wrap my body around them when the tents grew cold. But death was faster. 😭

We fled our home under shelling, and my father was in the hospital, unable to stand. I told them, "My father can't move." The soldier said, "It doesn't matter, leave." So we left... and my father was left alone, until his heart closed forever. 😔💔

On the way south, I walked for hours carrying two children in my belly, a bag in my hand, and the rest of my memories on my back.

I bled on the way.

I lost my twins there, on the asphalt, in front of my other children who couldn't even cry. 😭😭

The next day, I woke up and found them buried under the sand. No grave, no names.

Now, I'm seven months pregnant with my third child.

But anemia is tearing me apart, stress is breaking my head, and hunger is eating away at what's left of me.

I feel my baby pleading with me from within: "Mother, don't die."

And I apologize to him every day... because I can't promise him life.

“I am Wissam… I lost my father, my children, my home, and even my voice.

I don’t want to lose this child too.

Help me before I become another memory in this broken land.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Wissam's Family Escape War and Famine, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Wissa… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Wissam's Family Esc

My father was the only one I could place all my hopes and dreams on. He was the one who lifted me up whenever I fell, and held my hand when my steps faltered. In those dark days of war, I saw him strong in front of me. Even in moments of silence, his presence was enough to make me feel safe. He wasn't just the father I loved, he was my refuge, the hope I lived by. 😭💔

But one day, suddenly, that hope disappeared.

The sky was covered with heavy clouds, as if it knew what was going to happen. That day, I was at home, climbing on my tiptoes, holding on to any glimmer of hope, but when I entered our small room, I found my mother in the corner of the room crying, her face pale, her eyes filled with tears, and her mouth almost unable to speak. 💔😭

I couldn't believe what she was saying. My father, who had always been the strength in my life, was gone. In an instant, everything disappeared, and the words kept repeating in my head without me being able to understand them. "He's not coming back." Those words were harder than any blow I had ever received in my life. 😭😭

I felt like I was in a dark dream. How could my father disappear like that? How could time go on without his voice, without me seeing his face again? How much I needed him in those moments, how much I needed to hear his words of reassurance. But it was all over, and all that remained was the silence filling the emptiness around me. 💔

Every corner of the house became a tragedy. Everything reminded me of him, every corner, every smell, everything. I thought I would lose my ability to breathe. His absence was heavier than anything else. I cannot imagine a world without him, and I cannot see a future without his advice, without a hand to lift me up whenever I feel like I am drowning.

As I sit here, in that dark room, I remember everything about my father. How he used to laugh when I made small mistakes, how he used to hug me when the world was dark, and how his words filled my life with meaning. But now he's not here, and the emptiness in my heart can't be filled with anything else. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in every corner. I feel him, but I can't touch him. And despite all the pain, despite all the sadness, I know he's not coming back, that he's left me in this world, to face it alone.

He's gone, but a part of him, a part of his soul, will remain in my heart forever. Even though I can't hear his voice or see him, I carry his memories with me every step of the way, every moment. I've lost him, but I can never forget him.😭😔

Share my campaign 🙏

Thank you 🩷

happy birthday p5r!!! today is the day that ultimate brainrot was released in japan ✨

Lori Harvey for Playboy 2025 Print Issue

To those who keep scrolling... this is not just another link ⚠️.

This is my home—bombed and reduced to rubble🏡❤️‍🩹.

This is my room—crushed until its height became less than 30 cm💔 🧱.

This is my teddy bear and the cover of my bed—pulled from under the debris with my own hands🧸🥹.

We spent over a month clearing rubble just to build a tent beside the ruins ⛺.

But even the tent wasn’t allowed to stay... ❌

We were forced to leave—by an order from the occupation ⚠️🥹.

It feels like every trace of life is being taken from us, again and again 😔 .

I’ve shared. I’ve begged. I’ve screamed💔.

But the silence around me is louder than my pain🥹.

This isn’t just a donation campaign—this is a cry for life ✊.

If you can’t donate, share 🤝.

And if you can’t share—don’t look away like nothing is happening👌🏻.

Some of us are being buried alive—under the world’s silence🔥.

gofundme.com

Donate to Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resilience - A Call for Soli, organized by Abdallah Alanqar

When sorrow and difficulties strike hard, hope becomes the lo… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resil

Save our lives ‼️🚨

"I am Wissam... The last time I hugged someone, it was a corpse." 😭💔

The night was very long that day. I was counting the days until I would give birth to my twins. I brought them names, and planned to wrap my body around them when the tents grew cold. But death was faster. 😭

We fled our home under shelling, and my father was in the hospital, unable to stand. I told them, "My father can't move." The soldier said, "It doesn't matter, leave." So we left... and my father was left alone, until his heart closed forever. 😔💔

On the way south, I walked for hours carrying two children in my belly, a bag in my hand, and the rest of my memories on my back.

I bled on the way.

I lost my twins there, on the asphalt, in front of my other children who couldn't even cry. 😭😭

The next day, I woke up and found them buried under the sand. No grave, no names.

Now, I'm seven months pregnant with my third child.

But anemia is tearing me apart, stress is breaking my head, and hunger is eating away at what's left of me.

I feel my baby pleading with me from within: "Mother, don't die."

And I apologize to him every day... because I can't promise him life.

“I am Wissam… I lost my father, my children, my home, and even my voice.

I don’t want to lose this child too.

Help me before I become another memory in this broken land.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Wissam's Family Escape War and Famine, organized by Casimir Reynolds

My name is Casimir, and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Wissa… Casimir Reynolds needs your support for Help Wissam's Family Esc

My father was the only one I could place all my hopes and dreams on. He was the one who lifted me up whenever I fell, and held my hand when my steps faltered. In those dark days of war, I saw him strong in front of me. Even in moments of silence, his presence was enough to make me feel safe. He wasn't just the father I loved, he was my refuge, the hope I lived by. 😭💔

But one day, suddenly, that hope disappeared.

The sky was covered with heavy clouds, as if it knew what was going to happen. That day, I was at home, climbing on my tiptoes, holding on to any glimmer of hope, but when I entered our small room, I found my mother in the corner of the room crying, her face pale, her eyes filled with tears, and her mouth almost unable to speak. 💔😭

I couldn't believe what she was saying. My father, who had always been the strength in my life, was gone. In an instant, everything disappeared, and the words kept repeating in my head without me being able to understand them. "He's not coming back." Those words were harder than any blow I had ever received in my life. 😭😭

I felt like I was in a dark dream. How could my father disappear like that? How could time go on without his voice, without me seeing his face again? How much I needed him in those moments, how much I needed to hear his words of reassurance. But it was all over, and all that remained was the silence filling the emptiness around me. 💔

Every corner of the house became a tragedy. Everything reminded me of him, every corner, every smell, everything. I thought I would lose my ability to breathe. His absence was heavier than anything else. I cannot imagine a world without him, and I cannot see a future without his advice, without a hand to lift me up whenever I feel like I am drowning.

As I sit here, in that dark room, I remember everything about my father. How he used to laugh when I made small mistakes, how he used to hug me when the world was dark, and how his words filled my life with meaning. But now he's not here, and the emptiness in my heart can't be filled with anything else. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in every corner. I feel him, but I can't touch him. And despite all the pain, despite all the sadness, I know he's not coming back, that he's left me in this world, to face it alone.

He's gone, but a part of him, a part of his soul, will remain in my heart forever. Even though I can't hear his voice or see him, I carry his memories with me every step of the way, every moment. I've lost him, but I can never forget him.😭😔

Share my campaign 🙏

Thank you 🩷

⋆·˚ ༘ * PAUL LAHOTE HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 his imprint is a hime gyaru

the first time paul sees you, he does a double take.

la push is full of earth tones, denim, and practical clothing, and then there’s you—big teased hair, pastel dresses, frilly skirts, and pearls.

you look like you walked straight out of a fairytale, and paul? he’s gone.

imprinting has him locked in immediately.

“what the hell is she wearing?” embry snickers, but paul shuts it down with a glare so intense it silences the entire pack.

they all know he’s done for.

paul is the most aggressive protector ever.

he was already overprotective, but now? you’re his delicate princess, his fragile, perfect girl, and he will throw hands over you.

someone so much as looks at you funny? paul is already rolling up his sleeves.

you call him your “big bad wolf,” and it makes him feral.

at first, he worries about his temper.

you’re soft and sweet—what if he scares you?

but the first time he snaps and you just pout, cross your arms, and call him a silly puppy, he’s completely whipped.

no one has ever tamed him like you.

paul adores watching you get ready.

he’ll sit on your bed, completely fascinated as you do your hair and makeup.

sometimes, he’ll mess with your ribbons and bows just to get you to swat his hand away.

“babe, do you really need to spend an hour on your hair?”

“yes.”

paul sighs but secretly loves watching you curl each strand with precision.

matching outfits? yes.

you get him to wear pastels ONCE, and the pack never lets him live it down.

but you? you beam up at him and call him your “handsome prince,” and suddenly, he’s wearing whatever you want.

he carries your bags whenever you go shopping. no complaints.

you’re walking out of the mall with five pink shopping bags, and paul’s holding all of them, grumbling, but lowkey loves spoiling you.

when you’re cold, he wraps you up in his massive hoodie, even though it completely ruins your outfit.

but you let it slide because he’s warm and smells like pine and home.

if anyone dares to make fun of your style, paul is on them instantly. even just a side comment? they’re dead.

“she looks like a damn doll.”

“yeah? and you look like you got dressed in the dark. try again.”

loves how tiny you are next to him.

he’ll literally lift you up out of nowhere just because he can.

forehead kisses are his favorite—he loves how he can just tilt your chin up and claim your lips.

when he phases and comes back to you, still shaking from adrenaline, you’re right there, brushing his messy hair back, pressing soft kisses to his jaw. it calms him down instantly.

paul may be rough around the edges, but for you? he’s a total sweetheart.

he lets you do his hair, paint his nails (he acts annoyed, but he never removes the polish), and listens to you rant about the latest liz lisa collection like it’s the most important thing in the world.

he is YOUR wolf, your protector, your prince.

and no matter how frilly and delicate you look, he knows you’re stronger than people think. and damn, does he love you for it.

paul’s love language? carrying your things. purse? he’s holding it. shopping bags? already in his hands. your teacup-sized dog? sitting under his arm like it’s normal.

the pack dies laughing the first time they see paul lahote—the angriest wolf in la push—holding a pink, bedazzled purse without complaint.

you once made an entire scrapbook of your cutest outfits, complete with stickers, lace borders, and handwritten notes about each look.

paul carries it in his car just so he can flip through it when he misses you.

“you’re obsessed with me.”

“yeah. so?”

paul gets crazy jealous, and it’s almost funny because you’re too sweet to even notice.

some guy flirts with you? paul’s immediately throwing his arm around you, tugging you into his chest, and glaring the guy into submission.

“she’s taken.”

“paul, he was just asking for the time—”

“he can check his damn phone.”

he never understands fashion trends, but he loves seeing you happy.

you show up wearing a tiara, pearls, and a lace dress with a huge bow on the back, and paul just sighs before pulling you into his lap.

“you look ridiculous.”

“you think i’m cute.”

he kisses your nose. “damn right i do.”

the first time you cry in front of him, he panics.

your usual soft, bubbly voice is cracking, and your mascara is running, and paul is ready to kill whoever hurt you.

but instead of raging, he gathers you up in his arms, pressing kisses into your hair.

“tell me who did this. i’ll handle it.”

“it’s just—my dress got ruined—”

paul deadass thinks someone hurt you. but no, your dress just ripped.

cue paul staring at you for a second before he sighs and kisses your forehead.

“princess, we’re buying you another one. hell, we’ll buy five.”

paul has zero patience, but he will sit completely still when you do his hair.

he lets you clip pink bows into it, run your fingers through it, and style it however you want. no one can say a damn thing about it.

he’s soft for you in ways no one understands.

the pack doesn’t recognize him anymore. paul, the most explosive hothead, is now the guy who carries pink shopping bags and lets his girlfriend put glitter on his cheekbones.

“you’ve changed, man.”

paul shrugs. “yeah. i’m happy.”

you call him ‘my knight in shining armor.’ and paul? he takes it seriously.

no one messes with you, no one touches you, and no one disrespects you. you’re his princess, and he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you safe.

paul loves to interlace your fingers with his and just smirks at how delicate you are compared to him. he’s so much bigger, rougher, and stronger—but he’d never hurt you. you’re his soft spot.

if you get scared, paul immediately has you tucked into his chest, one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head.

“i got you, baby.”

and just like that, you feel safe.

paul lahote, the angriest, toughest wolf in la push, belongs entirely to you—his pink-wearing, bow-loving, frilly-dress princess.

and honestly? he wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is my oc, Tricity Boltz and her alter ego, ShockWave! She’s often moving around in the city through the electrical wires and she’s not on the clock, she’s practically obsessed with fighting villains in video games and collecting superhero comics and just adoring saving the day!