Please Do Not Forget Gaza And Donate To My Family, Even If It Is Twenty Dollars

How it feels witnessing major historical events in person

Help Ibrahim Siam and His Family Rebuild Their Lives

The donation link is here 👇🏻

https://gofund.me/815b6d6c

My name is Ibrahim Siam, a first-year university student majoring in programming from Gaza🇵🇸♥, Palestine🇵🇸❤️‍🩹.

My family and I have faced unimaginable challenges due to the ongoing conflict in our homeland.

The situation has left us in a state of extreme hardship, and I am reaching out for help from the world.

For months 🌹♥now, we have been living in a small, cramped plastic tent after being displaced multiple times. We have no access to clean water, food, or proper medical care, and the conditions are unbearable. My mother, Sabah Siam, who is already suffering from various illnesses, is growing weaker by the day. Without proper healthcare and support, her condition is deteriorating.

We also lost my sister, who was martyred along with her husband while she was pregnant. Her loss has had an indescribable impact on our family, and I am deeply affected by her killing, which is part of the pain we carry every day.

My father, Samir Siam❤🌹, and I have become without a source of income, and we cannot even afford to buy a morsel of food. I used to work at a petrol station to support my family, but the current circumstances have made it impossible to continue. Despite everything, I am determined to complete my studies and pursue a career in programming, but my family’s urgent needs have become a heavy burden.

My family’s priority now is my mother's health♥🌹🙏🏻.We urgently need assistance to provide her with proper medical treatment, along with basic necessities like food, water, and shelter. My dream is not only to secure my future through education but also to ensure my family can survive these difficult times.

Your support, no matter how small, will greatly help us rebuild our lives and give us a chance to survive these dark times. Please consider donating or sharing our story.🙏🏻🌹♥

The donation link is here 👇🏻

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ibrahim Family Rebuild Life in Gaza, organized by Eslam Radwan

My name is Ibrahim Siam, a first-year university student majoring in programm… Eslam Radwan needs your support for Help Ibrahim Family Re

Thank you for your generosity and kindness.♥🙏🏻🌹

Warmth

[masterlist]

it doesn't look like it but this is a comfy drabble, i promise!! the inspo (and wish for some comfort) is from @whumpcloud. you've read this already but here <3

CW: dehumanisation, abandonment issues, pet whump, self-loathing

It is still dark outside when Mutt wakes up, drenched in sweat, panting from memories that haunt his brain. A moment later, he realises what woke him up, as the night sky is lit up by a flash of lightning, a growling thunder following only moments later. Mutt can feel the rumbling deep down in his bones, making him shiver. 

He had been locked outside once during a thunderstorm, the punishment still fresh in his mind. Bound and gagged, of course, so he couldn’t draw attention to himself with his pathetic whimpering and keening.

There had been rain and hail, soaking him to the bone, making the Mutt even more susceptible to the unforgiving cold seeping into his joints. He had wanted nothing more than a shred of his old Master’s mercy, as the thunder rolled over him. 

Mutt shakes his head to rid himself of the memories, his fingers twitching. He won’t be able to fall back asleep, he knows, but he needs to be fit enough to serve his Master in the morning!

Almost on auto-pilot, Mutt gets out of bed. He has to be careful when standing up, his mangled legs still struggling to hold him up. When he walks to his door, he no longer avoids stepping on the rug. 

Aimlessly, he wanders onto the dim corridor, the old wood creaking under his irregular and heavy steps. Mutt tries not to be too loud, lest he wakes Master up. Fatigue tugs at his eyelids, making them droop, and his stroll does little to clear his muddy mind. He stumbles around, losing time.

Suddenly, he feels something cold and hard and when his eyes focus again, he is holding the handle to his Master’s bedroom in his ruined hand, the door already opened a crack. Just barely, he can see the sleeping form of his Master, curled up under the covers, her hands loosely clasped together in front of her face and oh–

He is Atlas now, isn’t he?

As if in a trance, Atlas enters her room, still not quite here, not quite there. Something pulls him forwards, a pressure getting stronger with each step, like a moth fluttering towards the light. He forces himself to stop a couple of steps away from her, ignoring how empty it makes him feel.

Hasn’t she given enough for him? Must he now also take her sleep? Her rest?

Atlas forces his mind to blank and himself to stop, to turn around as silently as possible. She needs her rest for all the troubles he’ll inevitably bring her in the morning, when he can’t get a hold of himself, can’t do the things a human is supposed to do. He can’t keep taking and taking and taking from her, but some part of him craves her presence so much and he despises himself for it. Maybe he will never be anything but a Pet but for some reason he can’t place, that seems so intrinsically connected to his very being, he only feels whole when he’s with her. 

For a moment, he is outside again, chained and gagged in the freezing rain, thoroughly unwanted. This time, it is Atlas who holds the key, dangling it just out of reach from his desperate self. He understands his old Master now, he thinks, understands why he locked a creature like him out. It is only right. 

Before he can take another step, he hears a sleepy groan right behind him, freezing up. Atlas fears looking around, fears seeing Master’s hateful gaze, even though he can’t conjure up a fitting image, no matter how hard he tries. He still does –of course he does– his breath catching in his throat. 

With her eyes still closed, Aveline has lifted one arm to hold her blanket up, as if inviting him in. Like a man dying of thirst discovering a miracle oasis, Atlas stumbles closer. It seems too good to be true and if there is one thing he has learned, it’s that no good ever befalls a Pet like him. Still, he wants to hope.

“For me?” Atlas croaks into the dark, as hushed as his damaged vocal cords allow him. 

Her response is nothing more than a drowsy mhm and a light, lazy gesture with her hand. Hesitantly, Atlas steps closer. He shouldn’t know how this goes, should be overwhelmed with the very real possibility of doing this wrong and subsequently being thrown out. But he isn’t.

The movements feel like second nature, even as he navigates his bulky frame first onto her bed and then into the embrace of the much smaller woman. Atlas doesn’t have to think, his body moves on its own, which is undoubtedly a good thing because if he allowed himself to process what he was doing, he’d surely panic. 

As he lays down on his side, Aveline lowers her arm to cover him with the blanket too, then settles it over the side of his chest. It should be the worst crime a Pet like him could commit, to lay his head on her soft pillow, to curl up against her warm body, to feel her snuggle up against his marred back. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like a crime. It just feels like home. 

Atlas deflates in her arms, sighing. Her touch is tender, not restricting, tethering Atlas to this world, as sobs start to build up in his chest against his will. If he cries now, he will surely ruin the best thing his life has ever allowed him. 

Maybe this is a dream and tomorrow he will wake up alone in his own bed but none of that matters in this moment. Unconsciously, his crooked hand searches for hers, clinging to it. Aveline squeezes it back, as a couple of stray silent tears start to escape his eyes.

Her body is warm and she holds him tight. Atlas can feel her resting her head softly against the nape of his neck, whispering that Everything is going to be alright.

Atlas sniffles, his tears soaking into the pillow. They lay like that for a while, Aveline’s thumb stroking soothingly over the back of his hand, careful with the raised scar tissue.

Pets like him aren’t made for this kind of comfort, this all-encompassing warmth; her kindness feels like an unbelievable gift. He’d do anything for her, Atlas decides, as his eyes grow heavy and start to slip close. He can’t hear the harsh thunder anymore, can’t feel the cold rain.

Atlas knows he doesn’t deserve it, even as he falls asleep, but–

He wishes someone had been this kind to him before.

Theory : there are so many godkins, spacekins and voidkins here because MC (multidimensional council) hates us and puts us here to deal with us

"Oh but my religion is trueee, y'all will burn in hell!!" Wait till you get to know about soul vibrations

how do I explain that I don't exactly have a name but only what other people made up for me

He even tucks the thumb

oh boy

Welcome to the Fourth Reich dickheads. This is what you wanted. This is what you get.

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

waiting for my boy kissing to turn into boy kisser when I actually have a boy to kiss

Ok so I finally drew how I perceive myself as an alterhuman and otherkin