Imagine Looking In Your Rear View Mirror And You Just See This

Next fan series on the table I redesigned is my old series, Justice Precure, that is actually getting a new name change to! With great pleasure, let me introduce the new and improved, Go! Mighty Pretty Cure!

After a sudden explosion, a sector of the precious city of Choutani became a wasteland. This brings three girls to begin an investigation of their own, caught in the radiation of the area, gaining strange devices that suddenly transform them into a new group of superheroes called Pretty Cure. Along with two new members, they are tasked to fight against this brand new team of villains who seem to be connected to the explosion, as well as discovering the consequences of the people are were effected during the explosion.

Cures: Cure Illusion 🩷 Cure Spark 💛 Cure Blaze ❤️ Cure Leaf 💚 Cure Sprinkle 💙

With school being a hassle, I’ve found small intervals to draw and design my Precure groups. My posts will be slow because of it but I’ll try my best to get them posted. Also, it’s time for me to find internships and apply. I desperately need a starter job to grow my career and it’s time for me to start doing that. Wish me luck!

This powerful image captures the face of a wounded Palestinian woman whose hijab is soaked in blood—likely her own or that of a loved one. Her eyes tell a story of unimaginable pain and strength in the face of loss. She stands in a chaotic hospital hallway, surrounded by others in distress. As an oppressed and weak woman from Gaza, I see myself in her. I, too, have suffered greatly—my baby, Qais, was injured in the war, and the hospital refused to treat him because we cannot pay. Please, I beg you to help us. Your donation can provide the medicine and care Qais urgently needs.

Life in Gaza is unbearable for women like me.

1. I wait in line for two hours just to bring food back to our tent – food that is never enough.

2. I clean the shoes of strangers on the street– just to earn a few coins for Qais's medicine.

3. We were turned away from the hospital– they said no money, no treatment, even for a child as young as Qais.

I carry this pain in silence, but I cannot bear it alone anymore. The woman in this picture used her hijab to try and save her son’s life. I am doing everything I can to save mine. But without help, I fear I will lose him too. Please, Donate anything you can—no matter how small. Even a few dollars could mean a meal, a medicine dose, or a chance for Qais to live. Share this, speak up, and help us survive.

Donate Now Here

Please stop ✋🚨 you're the only hope to save a child😔😭

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #64 )🍉🇵🇸

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

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.😭😔

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the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible

because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person 

from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating

it’s fucked up. 

Mini comic antes que me destruyan los parciales ( π~π)

old pkmn legend pics 

my name is caine i am your bitch

My personal thoughts on Black x Readers as an African American

You know something that I constantly wonder about? How most (insert character here) x Black!Reader's are usually dark smut fics.

Like I go to look for a fluffy fic and all I find is y/n getting railed in their sleep non-consensually! These stories always have a bittersweet twisted ending. Now if that's your thing go off but NOT IN EVERY S I N G L E STORY! You don't look up x black!reader smut non-con you just look up x black!reader and that's all that's there.

In my experience of searching AND I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING, most of the time the fic doesn't even mention the reader being black or only gives like 1 description like "y/n's luscious black curls" AND THAT'S IT!

Most of the time the tag x Black!reader feels more like just a tag to get reads rather than an actual attempt at creating more representation!

The thing that I think gets under my skin the most is the fact that most of the stories are FULL of stereotypes about African Americans! The tags almost always have the Daddy kink, choking kink, spit kink, Drug use, toxic relationships, abuse of some sort! Or there are like 40 tags of black Y/n getting SPECIFICALLY violently fucked!

OR the story points out how y/n "picked out her huge afro and put on her large hoop earrings" or "y/n put on their Air Jordans and went to see their baby daddy for the child support that he owes" (I'M SERIOUS)!

I just wish that there was more appropriate representation in the x reader community rather than the few good stories that we are given. BECAUSE TRUST ME there are some really good cute ones that have fluff or romantic smut or getting railed BUT that's not the WHOLE DAMN STORY (and even if it is it's done in a respectful manner!)but there are so few.

And I can already here the argument "WELL, WHY DON'T YOU CREATE SOME REPRESENTATION YoURSeLf!" I will. Not much will change if I only complain about it and I am aware of that BUT it is not my responsibility to create every peice of representation that appropriately represents my community.

One peice of positive representation versus 100 peices of "representation" can only change but so much.

But then again that's why I'm writing this post if I want to see change the first thing I have to do is at least bring attention to what I see as the issue.

But what are your thoughts on the issue?