🚨🚨🚨 You can save a life! Act now‼️‼️🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉
My name is Mina, I'm 19 years old from Gaza. On October 7th, we woke up to the sounds of rockets, bombing, and destruction. By October 10th, we were forced to leave our home with nothing—(no clothes, no belongings, nothing)—because our area became a dangerous war zone. A week later, we received the devastating news that our home had been completely destroyed😔😔💔💔💔.We are now displaced, with no place to call home. We have been forced to move 10 times over the past eleven months of this genocidal war. We currently live in a place barely suitable for three people, while our family of eight struggles to fit. My aunt and her one-year-old daughter were killed by the occupation. My grandfather died due to the lack of medication and the closure of hospitals because of insufficient resources. He was a heart patient who needed regular treatment, but it was cut off due to the blockade and lack of medical supplies.I was in my first week of university, finally enrolling in my dream college (medical school) after achieving one of the highest grades in my city (98.6% in the scientific branch). Now, I lost this academic year, and it seems the second year will be lost as well, with no way to change this dire situation. My elder sister, (Salwa), was supposed to be in her third year of university. She was the top of her class and aspired to participate in student exchange programs and pursue a master's degree. Now, her university is destroyed, and she is unable to do anything. My younger sister, (Abeer), was supposed to be in her final year of school, excelling academically and aiming for a high grade. Unfortunately, her school was destroyed, and she cannot continue her education. My younger siblings, Adel (13), Jana (12), and Ammar (8), also cannot continue their education. They are in crucial stages for their development and future, but everything has been shattered.Basic necessities are almost nonexistent in Gaza: cleaning supplies are scarce, feminine hygiene products are nearly impossible to find and extremely expensive, and essentials like (shampoo, soap, and laundry detergent) are either unavailable or exorbitantly priced. Diseases are spreading alarmingly, particularly skin diseases and, more recently, polio. We are terrified of infection as the health situation deteriorates severely💔💔.We urgently need a safe, healthy, and fear-free life for me, my siblings, and my family. Please help us by donating through the link and sharing our campaign 🙏🏻🙏🏻❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
YEAH AND DONT FORGET IT!
A woman in a burnt displacement camp in Rafah delivers a heart-wrenching appealafter occupation forces bombed innocent civilians sheltering there. She desperately questions the absence of support from Arab and Muslim countries, naming Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and Egypt, and decries the world's inaction. She mentions that the recent attack killed and injured scores of innocent people from all ages and genders.
امرأة في مخيم نزوح محترق في رفح توجه نداءً مؤلمًا بعد أن قصفت قوات الاحتلال المدنيين الأبرياء الذين كانوا يحتمون هناك. تتساءل بمرارة عن غياب الدعم من الدول العربية والإسلامية، مسمية السعودية، الأردن، ومصر، وتستنكر صمت العالم وعدم تحركه. تذكر أن الهجوم الأخير أسفر عن مقتل وإصابة العشرات من الأبرياء من جميع الأعمار.
Please listen to me and help my family 🙏💔
Im Mohammed Alhabil from Gaza , I am a father of three young children "Ahmed , Osama , Mira ", My wife and I are trying as much as possible to save what remains of our children’s childhood.
We lost our home, all our dreams and memories were destroyed, and everything we built over the past years was lost. We have become without shelter or a place to live or live in. 😞💔
PLEASE HELP AND STAND BY US
We were displaced from Gaza to Rafah at the beginning of the war, and we survived the genocide that occurred, We somewhat found some peace there as it was a safe area, but unfortunately, after Rafah was attacked, we left under bombing, destruction, and gunfire.
My children and I saw death, and we were displaced again. To Nuseirat, as it is somewhat a safe area, but there is no safety after the attack on Nuseirat a month ago. We have lived an unforgettable experience of fear, death, and genocide, and now I wish that everything would end and that I and my young children would be saved from all of this. They have no fault in what is happening, so I created the link so that they can have a better life and escape this genocide that is stalking them and eliminating their childhood 💔💔
So please, I am speaking to the human inside you. Please help me and my children survive this war and do everything you can to help me through this 🙏🙏💔
Im vetted by @90-ghost , @el-shab-hussein
Please help us start a new life away from everything that is happening and live in peace with my innocent children ❤🍉
Mitski - My love mine all mine
Comfort fic with Mihawk?
Pretty plz oh my sister of mine
(Add smut if you must-but you’re really pulling my arm)
Comfort fic, you say? You get some angst too, sis.
Masterlist here.
Word Count: 1,178
Warnings: angst, longing, fluff, sleeping, embracing (no smut)
Song Suggestion: Mitsuki - My Love Mine all Mine.
Nothing in the world belongs to me // But my love mine, all mine // Nothing in the world is mine for free // But my love mine, all mine, all mine
The halls in the great castle had naught a sound resounding in the chasms. The polished cobblestone lay bare and cold, the warm light of the crystalline chandelier reflecting its small flames atop the surfaces. The darkness from nightfall glistened starlight through the stained glass windows; the moon cascading it’s crescent shape on one of the many portraits that hung high and out of sight within the room.
He had been gone for two weeks, his presence not gracing the ornate floorboards with his silhouette for nine days longer than he promised. He thought the contract would be over swiftly, the great blade Yoru able to cut through anything with one fell, booming swipe. His cloak was dishevelled, his cross was laying slightly askew atop his bare chest. The large, fluffed, white feather in his broad hat was slightly singed around the edges, tanning under the scorch marks to tint it a smoked yellow. It did not go at all according to his plan: get in, get it done, get it over with, and get back to you.
The individual he was stalking had managed to raise an army, something the world government did not anticipate him having such sway nor ability to execute. He was to be brought in alive for questioning, his bounty nullified should he perish below a blade. Dracule Mihawk was tasked with not only capturing this person alive, but also ridding the amassment of pirates that had so readily come to his defence. It took him nine days of combat; never resting, always pushing to get to his target. He was exhausted, his energy resources depleted completely.
As he stalked slowly along the grounds, his staff would turn and halt their movements and chores; offering a swift stoop at acknowledgement of his presence. Mihawk’s shoulders were slumped, hunching down from his great posture as he reached your shared bedroom. Turning the circular handle, he lifted the small latch from its brace against the door and slowly allowed the hall light to break through the darkness.
Atop his large four-poster bed lay his love, his hidden treasure known only to his staff and a handful of others he trusted enough with his secret. His eyes softened, leaning his towering form against the post of the doorframe slightly to take you in. Allowing a soft smile to rise to the corner of his lips, he raked his amber-eyes over you to take in your sleeping form.
You lay in a white silken bed-robe, the fabric of the many layers pooling at your wrists in their lengthy decline. Laying on your side, facing the door, your hair lay gracefully cascading atop his pillowcase. Your right leg bent at the knee, the duvet laying beneath it as to mimic your embrace with your lover; as you would most commonly be cradled against the chest of the warlord as you both slept soundly. Your hand was clutching a single red rose, laying wilting and dried over the mattress alongside his promise to return to you before the cut, thorny rose should ever require water. A single petal fell to the floor as you took a deep breath to indicate your slumber had become interrupted.
Mihawk quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the softest click of the latch could be heard as he attempted to silence his decent. He took his hat off, placing it on the desk beside his armchair, alongside removing Yoru and laying the great blade on it’s wooden, decorative resting hilt. He sighed in relief as the weight had been removed from his shoulders, rotating them to remind his muscles how to behave without harnessing such a weapon. Slowly, he drew his arms out of his cloak, wincing as his biceps contracted beneath the material.
He had overexerted himself, went too hard for too long; something you would chastise him for, he’s sure of it. Placing the cloak on the back of his armchair, he removed his boots and socks from his feet and slotted them beneath the bed. His fingers halted their retract as you let a slow, sleepy moan fall from your lips. Your brows began to furrow as your lucidity continued to propel you within haunted dreams of your love’s demise. Mihawk hastily unclasped the buckle on his belt, pulling in one swift movement to rid it from its place within his pants and tucked the object in one of his boots.
Kneeling his right knee on the bed, he began a stumbled and exhausted crawl to fall his body next to your own. He laced his left arm beneath your right and flattened his forehead against your chest, listening to the slow, rhythmic thump of your heartbeat. The remainder of petals fell to rest atop his curled, darkened locks as he closed his honey-coloured eyes tightly shut. He lifted his right arm to rest over your manubrium, focussing more on his concentration listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your breathing.
In your subconsciousness, you drew down your right hand and laced it within Mihawk’s hair; body completing this soft and gentle embrace from muscle memory alone. The furrow in your brows completely fell from your face and softened in your slumber once more. Mihawk smiled into your embrace, relishing being in the arms of his hidden love once again – albeit nine days late.
He hoped you did not hold such tardiness against him, tracing low circles atop the small of your back before drawing his hand down to clutch the back of your right thigh to hook your knee over the bottom of his ribcage. Sighing into the embrace, he felt your body completely relax into him with a sigh of his own to follow in reaction. The two of you feeling the weight of the absence fleeing from your bodies in this gentle embrace, falling from you in waves of bittersweet reunification.
The gentle light of the crescent moon continued to follow into the room, its light illuminating your embrace through the small partition within the heavy charcoal curtains. Mihawk reopened his yellow eyes, tilting his head up and removing his hand from your chest in favour of brushing a single strand away from your face. Your lips were parted, eyelashes forming a small shadow atop the apples of your cheeks under the light of the moon. Mihawk felt his heart swell knowing you were safe in his castle, slumbering soundly while remaining hidden away from the world government.
Finally having something that was truly his own, not an ability to be used for exploit, nor his vast array of wealth in riches and land. You were his, something that was only for him.
“Sleep now, my love,” he sighed, pressing a lingering kiss against your throat with his eyelashes flickering against the bare skin as he leant in to your embrace. He withdrew his soft touch and whispered against your flesh: “May you forgive me when you wake. I love you, may you continue to be mine. Only mine.”
Hello, I am Aseel from Gaza🍉🇵🇸
I apologize for what I am going to ask, my heart is heavy and exhausted, unfortunately the situation has become difficult after my father was injured
I lost part of my family, my home and everything, and now live in tent
Please only $20 from each person, $20 will save my family from death in Gaza
I don't know if I will survive or die in this war, but I know that your help will contribute to saving my family from death.
My campaign vetted by,,
@90-ghost @fairuzfan @nabulsi @appsa
https://gofund.me/16fe6e48
Aseel, I may not be able to donate, but i will 100% post! Please anyone and everyone, DONATE, Aseel has more than half of her fundraiser fundraised and its only about 8000 more!!! 5 usd may not seem much to the west but to her and her family, it could be life or death. Please donate, she has been hurt a lot and needs all the help she can get!
Aseel, may this message find you and your family as safe as can be.
PLEASE HELP!! PROTECT PALESTINIAN LIVES BECAUSE THEY TOO ARE PEOPLE!!!
She also runs a lockdown feeding scheme mainly serving women, who line up to get a meal for their family. Here, new words are conveyed, check-ins are conducted and it’s also a way to get women to safety. Since the lockdown began, Peters has been responsible for making sure four women have been moved to a place of safety.
“It’s the women who come and collect food for their families, or would have fed their children at night, so would come to get something for themselves in the morning. This would be our opportunity to take them to shelters,” she says.
Using coded phone messages to reach out for help is not new. In November 2019, an American woman in Ohio called the 911 emergency number to order a pizza; it was her call for help after an attack inside her home.
Since the onset of the lockdown, support groups and NGOs have noted an increase in gender-based violence. Police Minister Bheki Cele announced that in the first five days of the lockdown, between March 27 and March 31, about 2300 complaints had been received by the national gender-violence hotline. Of those, 148 suspects were charged.
“The violence moved inside the home. But it’s so difficult with people having to decide whether to buy data for their cellphone or a loaf of bread. And of course, a mother is going to choose a loaf of bread,” says Peters
This is off topic for my account, but I want to help spread this important information.
Korean women are experiencing massive sexual violence by men.
tw : rape, abuse, crime
Secret Man's Telegram rooms were discovered in over 70% of South Korean schools where female students' faces were photoshopped into porn using AI.
A feminist in South Korea has mapped out schools where deepfake child pornography was created by male students using photos of girls on Telegram.
South Korean journalists who wrote articles about telegram deepfake child sex crimes are also being blackmailed with deepfakes by the perpetrators.
They also speak aggressively and disrespectfully about Ukrainian and Japanese women.
updates!
Black & Gold
im actually so sick of the “pick me” frenzy bc y’all will literally call anyone and everyone a pick me, especially if it’s a girl and it sucks even more when it comes from girls calling other girls “pick me” over minor things because it really shows how fucked up society is from internalised misogyny and it’s so fucking annoying. if you tell someone you don’t have friends, ur a “pick me”. if you tell someone you don’t drink or do drugs, ur a “pick me”. if you tell someone you don’t plan on having sex before marriage, ur a “pick me”. if you tell someone you’d rather spend quality time hiking instead of clubbing, they will joke and say “did he pick you yet?” what is it with this generation and shaming people just because they’re living their life in a way you don’t? i will admit it was funny at first but nowadays “pick me” literally has no meaning other than being used as an insult for girls who don’t want to get drunk and sleep around. you can go clubbing and drinking if you want. you can have hookups and friendships and relationships if you want. just don’t shame the ones who don’t because there is literally no reason for you to do so. when someone tells you something about themselves, just accept that the only thing they are doing is telling you something about themselves. they most likely have zero intention of trying to shame you or make you feel bad for living differently in the way you do when you call them a “pick me”. because when you say you wanna get to know someone but call them a “pick me” as soon they tell you they live in a way that doesn’t exactly align with your own hobbies, interests and ethics, it really does show who the insecure one is and who is simply trying to be themselves. so for the love of god just stop with the “pick me” this and “pick me” that and just let people be.