MORE SKIN PLUSHIES (pt3(final)

I finished Suns torso… now I’m gonna make the frill thing on his neck… well bow, cause I draw him with a bow with a bell attached.

Nour (@noor509) is raising funds so he can provide basic needs for his two children, one of whom was born in the middle of this genocidal war! Imagine trying to raise and feed a baby in a genocide, in the midst of constant bombings and with no aid being allowed in! Israel has killed at least 17,400 children during its war on Gaza! With Israel's constant attacks, survival is no easy feat, especially with a baby so young!

To make things worse, their Gofundme fundraiser was closed by GFM when the campaign organizer Andrea (@roadimusprime) switched how he transferred the money to Nour. They have created a PayPal link to collect funds, but donations to Nour have been suffering ever since! Please share and donate if you are able to! Every little bit helps!

Nour’s GFM was Shared by 90-ghost! The link doesn't work now because Tumblr took down Nour's old account, but see the reblog in the Wayback Machine link here, also see the screenshot of 90-ghost's reblog here and here.

@noor508, @noor509, @noorabd1992, @noorabd-1992, @noor120abd

Tagging for reach~ Please dm me if you want of the mailing list! Thank you!

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Hello, I'm Asmaa from Gaza.

I was born in 1991.

I'm a girl from a family of seven boys and six girls, and I'm the youngest.

My mother and I live in a house left to us by my father. I studied at university and graduated with a degree in basic education.

I worked in a private job and received a salary that covered my expenses as much as possible.

We were happy until the war came.

The war on Gaza began on October 7, 2023.

Here, hell began for us in Gaza. I lost my job and became unemployed. My mother owns nothing, and I own nothing now.

My mother was displaced to the southern Gaza Strip for 15 months. I didn't go with her. It was months of longing for my mother and siblings.

My brothers, Mahmoud, and Ashraf stayed behind.

We cried several times because I live in the Shuja'iyya neighborhood, a border area close to the army.

During the displacement on June 27, 2024, we left the house and raced down the road to escape the shells and planes. Then came the lightning strike. The shock was that death was faster than my brothers could escape. Here, here, we lost our loved ones. I lost my brothers. I lost my beloved son Mahmoud. Ashraf Mahmoud left no children. As for Ashraf, he left behind his sons who are grieving, and my mother is in pain because they departed to God without saying goodbye, without a kiss on their forehead, a farewell kiss. After a while, we returned home. The house had been severely damaged by demolition and stones that had fallen from their places, which used to shelter us. Now, nothing protects us except some worn-out tarpaulins that do not protect us from the heat of summer or the cold of winter. Our suffering is great, but with your help, we may reach a better life and a dignified life. May God bless you all.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

CatNap and DogDay as Sun and Moon in celebration of chapter 3 :)

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 🩷

Urgent 🚨 🚨

My mother makes us bread despite the difficult situation and the lack of necessities of life 😔

The war has entered its ninth month and everything is getting worse 💔

Please help me get my family out of there and protect them from war and bombing🙏🙏

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed family to travel to a save place, organized by Alaa Al khateeb

Hello everyone My name is Ahmed I'm from Gaza, i am engineer I created… Alaa Al khateeb needs your support for Help Ahmed family to trav

I'M DOING AN EXPERIMENT

To prove something to a friend, please

REBLOG IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

LIKE IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS DON’T BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

Art vs ref

It’s Lunars birthday today

I am a Palestine supporter, but I can’t donate because one, I don’t really have a job and therefore can’t get more money to donate and two, my parents won’t let me because they’ll think it’s a scam. I am still a minor with parents who will think all the people in Palestine that are reaching out for support are scammers. The best I can do is answer their asks in hope someone else who can donate helps them. I’m sorry 💔