I Was Finally Able To Rewatch Wreck-It Ralph For The First Time In Years A Couple Of Days Ago And I Genuinely

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.

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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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Hiii!!! I loveeee your writing and I've been following you for a while but been too shy to ask😅 would you consider a scenario where the protagonist and the antagonist are in a boyband together? The antagonist has a bigger fanbase or something. When they argue, its accidentally revealed that the hero is also the villain's fan and the villain is amused and is like "all my fans want to kiss me. Do you too?" Or something along those lines😅

“I’m not your fan,” the protagonist protested, wishing he could take the last thirty seconds back. he would have sold his soul to take it back. “I am literally the opposite of your fan. I hate you.”

“Mm.” The antagonist’s eyes were bright. “How passionate you are about me. It’s quite enticing.”

The protagonist’s face burned. “If I was your fan, I wouldn’t want to quit the band, would I? And you wouldn’t be blackmailing me to stay in the damn thing. To - to -”

“Mm,” the antagonist said, again. His gaze moved, with some false pretence of idleness, from the protagonist’s face to the - evidence - that had come tumbling out of a back drawer and back again. “If you say so.”

“I do. Also,” the protagonist jabbed an accusatory finger into the antagonist’s chest, “you shouldn’t go through my stuff. Why the hell are you going through my stuff? It’s not like you need-”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“What?” It came out a squeak.

The antagonist tipped his head, in that famous way of his, with that equally famous smirk. Fanbases were literally built on that smirk. On the way his jawline caught even the cheap dressing room light so dashingly. On the way his eyes smouldered, like he was was an ice sculpture with a core of molten lava hiding deceptively below the surface. (Oh god oh god oh god.)

“All my fans want to kiss me.” The antagonist took a step closer, backing the protagonist up a step into the dressing room table, a step more until the protagonist’s knees colliding with their chair and he flumped to sit. “Do you?”

The protagonist shook his head, mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

“I think you do,” the antagonist said. He placed his hands on the arms of the chair, bracketing the protagonist in. “I see you staring at me sometimes.”

“Only because you’re evil.” It came out a whisper. Raspy. “Have to keep an eye on you.” The protagonist’s gaze flickered down to the antagonist’s lips, only inches away, and then off them like he’d been scalded. “You use people. You-”

“I think you secretly enjoy me using you,” the antagonist said. “I think you’d enjoy it if I did it more, in some less artistically driven ways. Maybe I should…”

The protagonist was trying really hard not to picture that, but the purr in the antagonist’s siren voice made it impossible. He had the best voice in the whole band, but the words…the sweet and painful words full of longing, the words of the many love songs that had made them so successful…those words had always been the protagonist’s. He was the lyricist. Together they were magic. Everyone said so.

The protagonist twitched in the chair, but there was nowhere he could go, and -

Then there was that devastatingly lovely voice, softly singing some of those lyrics in the protagonist’s ear.

You’ve signed your autograph, on my heart

Your name on my lips

With your kiss

Forever mine.

Lyrics, songs, that the protagonist had once (stupidly, stupidly, stupidly) written thinking only of him.

The antagonist laughed softly at the helpless hitch in the protagonist’s breath. His finger rose, tracing his initials on the protagonist’s chest.

The protagonist closed his eyes.

There was clearly no denying it. Because the protagonist had been a fan. When they had started working together, first, he’d admired the antagonist so keenly that it almost hurt. Creatively, of course, but…not just in that way. And yes, of course, of course, learning what a monster the antagonist was should have made all that admiration, all those feelings, go away.

It didn’t.

It hadn’t.

“Get out,” the protagonist said. It wasn’t, after all, like the antagonist liked him. It was all a wicked game to him. Everything was. And this…

“Admit it,” the antagonist said. “Tell me.”

“Will you get out if I do?”

There were other things, probably, that the protagonist should have bartered for, but the antagonist was so close that he felt dizzy. He couldn’t think straight. All he could focus on was the antagonist’s hand not quite touching bare skin, the slight tickle of his breath, the closeness.

What if someone walked in, and saw them?

“For now.”

The protagonist swallowed. It was just words, after all. He said words, he bloody duetted the songs every night on tour, even if it killed him a bit every night. What did it matter now? The antagonist was already smug and unbearable, so it wasn’t like he could make it worse. Right?

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes…what?”

“Yes,” the protagonist gritted his teeth. “I’m a fan. You’re very talented. You know this. We have the grammy’s to prove it. Would you like me to stroke your ego some more, you narcissistic-”

The antagonist caught his chin and squeezed.

The protagonist’s eyes flew open. Their gazes locked.

“Admit,” the antagonist said. “That you want to kiss me.”

Oh, hell. Hell might have had more mercy.

The look of pleading that must have crossed his face only seemed to please the antagonist more. His eyes were doing that impossible smouldering thing, like the protagonist was the only thing that mattered in the world, like everything except the two of them could burn.

The protagonist tried to look away, but couldn’t. He felt hot all over. It should have been - it was awful, of course it was, but - the antagonist’s free hand dropped, cupping the protagonist over too tight jeans. Bastard.

“Yes,” the protagonist said, “I want you to kiss me.”

He really didn’t expect it when the antagonist did. The antagonist kissed him like everything he’d ever hoped for, everything he’d imagined in song, until the protagonist had no air. No words left. No nothing. Only more and please and his name.

“For inspiration,” the antagonist bit their lip, hard enough that the gossip commentators would no doubt have opinions on the matter. “For the next hit you’re going to write me.”

The protagonist’s chest cleaved.

The antagonist looked like a conquering hero, some victor in the field of battle, wild-eyed and powerful and triumphant.

“Because you know,” the antagonist said. “I’m a big fan of yours, too. Which is why, you are never, ever, leaving this band.”

And then, he was gone. Just as promised.

And all the treacherous parts of the protagonist’s heart wanted was for him to come back and finish what he started.

happy birthday p5r!!! today is the day that ultimate brainrot was released in japan ✨

COMMANDER AND THE LEADER - BLOSSOM

Powerpuff Girl handmade art doll

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Just gonna reboot this. Don’t mind me. :3

when u dont like ur art take a deep breath and remember u created it from nothing, like a god

fairy’s makeup details! ❤︎

♡ pastel eye shadows and sparkly glitter sky blue, baby pink, lavender, aqua, cream, brown, mint green. pink & silver shimmers

♡ skin tints & concealer > foundation less is more! especially on my soft skin.

♡ glossy lips mauves, pinks, brown, caramel. basically any cute nudes with glitter. & lip oils!

♡ BLUSH!!! my #1 obsession. PINK ONLY! light baby doll pink, sakura pink, flower petal pink, strawberry milkshake pink. very light & dreamy shades!

♡ lashes anime lash extensions! OR any light, wispy, cat eye lashes.

♡ soft bronzer too faced sun bunny

♡ cat eyeliner the thinner the better. on top & bottom for an extra seductive look!

♡ beauty marks wherever i want them, keep them tiny

♡ adornments rhinestones and pearls around my eyes. sparkly adornments suit me so well

♡ eyebrows bushy, THIN, clean & full.

♡ pink setting powder huda beauty ube bday cake

♡ sparkly highlighter glittery cheekbones & brow bones & nose. abh sun idol & fenty fairy bomb!

angelic, seductive & innocently hypnotic! she looks ethereal and dolly. you cant take your eyes off of her <3

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✅vetted by@gazavetters,(#365)✅

My name is Mahmoud Al-Halaq, from Palestine - Gaza - I am 29 years old. This message is addressed to every person who carries compassion, kindness, and love in their heart. After 470 days of war on Gaza, the destruction that has occurred, the displacement we have faced, moving from one place to another, and the loss and death of loved ones and friends, I found myself alone without a home or place, and even the prices of food are astronomical. The world has changed so much that life has become gloomy and boring. Therefore, I ask for your help in rebuilding myself, my life, and my family's life anew. You are our remaining hope in life. If there were an opportunity to work, I would not waste a minute nor ask for help from anyone, but I urgently need assistance for my family, my children, and the women to rebuild what has been destroyed and crushed in this devastating and painful war. Thank you for your time and support; we draw our strength and resilience from your support. 🍉

Please donate

✅vetted by@gazavetters,(#365)✅

Chuffed

Help Mahmoud Survive in Gaza

Hello, my name is Karina. I'm organizing this campaign for Mahmoud Alhallaq, whose previous campaigns have been shut down or have had their

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I am Falestine, Jad Al-Haq, I am 37 years old, married, and I have a eight-month-old child named Youssef. I gave birth to him during the war during very harsh conditions that no human being can bear. I moved from the hospital immediately after giving birth to the tent in which we were staying after we were displaced to it after the Israeli bulldozers completely bulldozed my house. and my suffering did not start from here. Rather, it began since the beginning of the war, and I am still suffering. I cannot provide enough milk for my baby or diapers. Even medicines and vitamins are not available.

I ask you for your urgent help in disseminating the link to my family and communicating it to people interested and able to help us.  I didn't want to do it, but the tragic situation we are living in is what pushed me to do it.  I feel sad and helpless, after we had everything, we are now homeless on the streets, living in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, dirt and waste everywhere, we sleep on it!  We suffer from terrible heat, insects, scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, the danger of pollution and terrible diseases, especially the digestive, respiratory and reproductive systems!

.  My father and mother could not bear it any longer. My father had a stroke after losing his home and his place of work, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and needs treatment.

  Do you have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this disappears in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age where you should rest, you are forced to start again!!?  But the most important thing now is to try to survive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us!  I ask everyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put themselves in our place.  How can someone who has lived with dignity all his life accept this?  We are slowly dying every day.

Your donation, no matter how small, can have a big impact.  It can provide a meal for my little one, a clean bottle of water, or a moment of safety under these difficult circumstances.  Every donation brings with it a ray of hope, alleviating our suffering and giving us the strength to face a new day.

I ask you to donate and support the steadfastness of the Gazan people, and share this campaign with your friends and families.  Together, we can make a difference and help my family get through this ordeal.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity and support.

Warm greetings,

Falestine

Chuffed

Help Falestine and Her Family Survive the Gaza Crisis

Hello Everyone,

Does Adding a murder mystery to a typical magical girl show make it more interesting?

comic commissioned by turandot on ao3! and credit to them for a bunch of these troll ideas. honestly I thought it was more likely someone would pay me to never draw p5stuck again than to draw a whole comic for it?! life is frequently surprising