I've Noticed This A Lot More Lately Online As The Years Go By, And It's Hard To Put It Into Words, But...

You ever watch something that was so scary that the feeling of dread stuck with you? Even if you knew it was fake you just couldn't get it out of your head,and now you're kinda stuck being scared of literally everything until it goes away?

🚨 Help Us Escape the Devastation of War 🚨

Hello, everyone.

My name is Mohammed Abu Swierh, and I’m writing to you from Al-Nuseirat, Gaza, where my family and I face unimaginable hardships. My wife and I are raising our three beautiful children: Mira (6 years), Bakr (3 years), and Maria (1 year). But our once peaceful lives have been shattered by the relentless conflict that has plagued Gaza for about a year. 💔

Our home, which once held so many dreams, is now damaged beyond recognition. Every day, we live in fear, surrounded by destruction, with no safe place for our children to grow up. The war has stripped them of the carefree childhood they deserve. Instead, they are growing up in a world filled with fear, uncertainty, and despair. 😔

After many sleepless nights and countless prayers, we've come to the heartbreaking decision that we must leave Gaza. We are hoping to build a safer, better future for our children, a future free from war and filled with hope.

But we can't do it alone. Here’s where you can make a life-changing difference for our family:

$20,000: To cover the expenses of leaving Gaza and rebuilding our lives in a safe country.

$19,000: For a year’s worth of housing, food, and essential living costs as we adjust.

$1,000: To cover transaction and fundraising fees.

We humbly ask for your help. No contribution is too small, and every dollar brings us closer to giving our children the chance to grow up in peace. This is more than just a financial plea, it’s a call to save a family from the grips of war. 🙏

Your generosity can be the light that leads us out of this darkness. Please consider donating and sharing our story with those who may want to help.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for standing with us in our time of need. ❤️‍🩹

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohammed's Family From Gaza Rebuild Their Lives, organized by Mohammed Abu Swierh

My name is Mohammad Salem Abu Swierh, a husband and father of… Mohammed Abu Swierh needs your support for Help Mohammed's Family From Gaza R

@90-ghost @northgazaupdates2 @sayruq @irhabiya @sar-soor @horrorhorizon

And here we have, yet again, another instant of a father traumatizing his son...which i like to think Lilia has done at least a few times already. Am I kicked out of the fandom yet? 💀💀💀

The dialigue is kinda choppy but Yes, this is a straight up parody to the Original Comic/ Video

It just felt too fitting 😅

(CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY)

man I wish people understood how much it sucks ass to be neurodivergent and trying to find the middle ground where people like/tolerate you. like, I'm either "boring" (trying to wait my turn in conversations, holding space for other people, taking a back seat to let others get some spotlight) or "too much" (too loud/talking too much, getting excited to share, trying to participate in group conversations/activities). No one really talks about how much of being neurodivergent is just sort of trying to make yourself palatable.

I feel like so much of my life has been spent trying to find this effortless sort of middle ground everyone else seems to automatically already know, and I'm always swinging too far one way or the other. I'm lucky to have neurodivergent friends who grok me, but goddamn I wish that I could just like, exist without the constant background script in my brain that's like "you're being too loud. You're not talking enough. you're being self-centered. you're being boring. you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong." I feel like I'm back in high school trying to make friends but stuck as the eternal "weird kid"

it's just... lonely and sucks bad.

rewrite the universe (and spit in the face of god)

Ace Trappola x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis Everything is dark when you first opened your eyes in the coffin. It all seems familiar: the small direbeast with fire in his ears, the squawking headmage who's flakier than dandruff, and the ginger-haired boy with a heart over his left eye. The ginger-haired boy who speaks to you like he knows you.  The ginger-haired boy who seems to hover over you no matter where you go and who you're with.  The ginger-haired boy, with a teasing smirk, a longing gleam in his eyes as he looks at you like you're a ghost.  He looks at you like he's done this all before. Like he would do it again and again, every time he helps you get out of trouble.  You think if he could, he'd drag God down from the spigot in which they drink their divinity and present it to you in a golden chalice. If just to do what he wants. He acts like he already has. Inspired by Puella Magi Madoka Magica

ao3 link (under construction)

spotify playlist

[cw] - TBA

[tags] - yandere, angst, doomed by the narrative, time loop

Chapter List:

Prologue: Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop.

Book 1: No one does [play fair] if they think they can get away with it.

Book 2: I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night?

Book 3: It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.

Book 4: I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears!

Book 5: If everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.

Book 6: I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it

Book 7: He was part of my dream, of course—but then I was part of his dream, too.

Book 8, Part 1: I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.

Book 8, Part 2: I'm not strange, weird, off, nor crazy, my reality is just different from yours.

Epilogue: A dream is not reality, but who's to say which is which?

Many houses reduced to ashes, many lives disappearing The suffering people’s lamentations Don’t reach the princess-- “Oh, it’s tea time!”

1770-80s court fashion-inspired redesign ✨🍰

DRABBLE: Painting on the Wall

Paintings talk right? Yes, they do...

Its like it has a mind of its own, but clearly its not you.

It'll never be you.

He knows, once he graduates, the painting will stay there. Stay the same, eternally youthful.

Eternally you.

So he'll speak to it, everyday, if he can. Tell it everything he wished he could tell you, and imagine it was actually his "you" whose replying. Pretending you're still there, proud of him, or scolding him, or consoling him. Right by his side.

You've left, and theres only so much he could do to ease the pain of missing you.

He'd watch your portrait react as you do, always the same, as is in his memory.

And thats even worse, an existing testimony, that you will never be more than a record.

He will never see you grow, and he thinks, after all these years, would you still like the same things?

Would your preference change?

Would your memory fade?

Would you still think of him as he thinks of you, every waking day?

It would have been nice to grow old with you.

To love and change with you.

But there's only the painting on the wall.

A painting of you, and nothing more.

.

.

.

A/n: wanted to imagine how the twst guys would react to yuu leaving and there's a painting of them in NRC.