#Surviving Severe Weather

[sentimentalmachine]

It's wild to me that people can be out in the sun, especially warm or hot sun, and not only enjoy it but also not feel sick and in horrible pain from it. Like people just go outside when it's 80f+ and don't instantly feel like they will perish!? What do you mean sunlight makes you feel happy when it hits your skin? You don't experience searing pain that feels like you set your exposed skin onto a hot grill?! It must be really nice for all the people who can get happiness from the sun. It could never be me, but I'm happy for the rest of you.

[pyrriax]

hi tumblr i love u guys <3

[blackstarsurvival]

🌪️ Stay safe during tornado season! Be prepared with blackstarsurvival.com. Get the tools and info you need to protect yourself and your loved ones. Don't wait, take action now! #TornadoPreparedness #StaySafe #BlackStarSurvival

[buttercuparry]

Genocide flattens every discussion. There are no new conversations to be had about the destruction, death and cruelty. After more than a year, there is nothing left to be said about various media houses, corporations and international bodies of law aiding and abetting all that has been happening in Gaza, either. It is the banality of evil, it is colonialism. However even in this atrociously banal circumstance, I do think what still is a continued point of hope for Gazans and what still pushes so many of them to reach out to the world, is the support people around the globe have shown and still continue to show. Which is why I am here on behalf of the Shehab family ( @fahedshehab-new ) and requesting  you to help them survive through this winter. This won't take much of your time so please read: 

Fahed is currently supporting 13 family members in total- his own family and that of his sister’s.

He has to look after 8 children now, with the youngest being his son Yayha who is barely having anything to eat because the price of baby milk  is exorbitantly high in Gaza. 

The genocide has taken a toll on Fahed’s daughters. Sahar and Dana spent a whole year under the threat of bombs and right now instead of getting to be teenagers, they ask their father if they will survive. They have even said they don't want to live if they lose someone. 

The family right now immediately needs clothes to keep them warm throughout winter. Fahed’s family is from the north and has been displaced several times before they came south. Displacement is dangerous and a silent killer because often essential items are lost and cannot be replaced in time. 

Please consider that the weather has already turned colder around the world and that which is only mildly uncomfortable to us, presents a dire situation for Gazans. The families don't have a shelter and there is no way for tents to adequately protect from cold winds and rain. So right now the immediate need is for warm clothes and it can cost upto $400 per person. With THIRTEEN PEOPLE to take care of Fahed immediately needs to raise at least 5k to buy the required apparels. So please boost and donate. 

Currently at $66,248. He needs to reach $71,248. Please help however you can. 

Vetting link

Please remember that every donation, even if it is 5 dollars, is a ray of hope for the families who have lost everything.

Tagging for reach 🙏🏽

@brutaliakhoa @appsa @malcriada @aces-and-angels @three-croissants

@schoolhater @briarhips @timetravellingkitty @tiredguyswag @neptunerings

@brokenbackmountain @transmutationisms @fuckgimp @jezior0

@imjustheretotrytohelp @sunflowersmoths @khanger @autisticmudkip @zigcarnivorous

@maaszeltov @contra-file @venus-is-in-bloom @fading-event-608 @lesbianmaxevans

@girlinafairytale @heliopixels @celadonwanderer @paparoach @furiousfinnstan

@forgetfulrecord @flyskyhigh09 @aflamethatneverdies @thedigitalbard @lesbincineroar

@noble-kale @maoistyuri @lamngen @thatsonehellofabird @roadimusprime

@a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster @C-u-ckoo-4-40k @galacticmermaid @heydreamchild

[dragon-saint]

Clothing tech doesn't get nearly enough credit/focus when talking about history IMO, which is probably partly down to biases and partly down to the very limited preservation of artifacts related (needles, looms, clothing itself, all decompose easily). We often talk about how important things like agriculture, the six simple machines, metalworking etc etc; but without the remarkable feats of clothing design and making that were developed, we'd be confined almost entirely to the tropics!

Nålhus aka needle houses aka needle keepers made with wool fabric, protected by a ceramic case. Stamped patterns with inspiration from plants and nature in general and the geometrical lines somewhat inspired by runes.

🌿

One of these are still in the shop now at nymla.se

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 7, day 31

(╯°□°）╯BRONZE

I was going to make a wooden floorboard material but something about the texture setup did not agree with me and I didn't feel like troubleshooting, so the only other thing to do would have been to restart from scratch and since that was a 40 minute video and I had ~20 before bedtime that wasn't happening lol

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

URGENT: Ahmad Waleed's family needs a new tent.

My other promotion lists

Updated: Dec 11 (updated current account)

Member(s): Ahmad Waleed: @ahmadwaleed55 (current account), @ahmadwaleed555, @ahmadwaleed5, @ahmadwaleed

Verification: #167 on vetted sheet (old campaign)

Payment methods: Paypal, Venmo, Google Pay, credit/debit (new campaign)

Summary: Ahmad's family are currently inadequately sheltered. The short-term goal is to get $3,500 for a new tent and winter survival supplies before the weather gets colder. You can request a refund for the old campaign.

More info:

Update Oct 29: See here. The family had to start a new campaign due to the old one's manager being uncontactable. Unfortunately, this means all the money already raised for the tent is inaccessible. You can request a refund if you donated to the old campaign.

Campaign/family details:

Ahmad is only 14. He loved school and had dreams of being a doctor which were stolen from him.

He and his family were displaced when the war reached their neighborhood and destroyed their home.

They fled to a makeshift refugee camp, where they now live with thousands of other families.

Ahmad's father lost his job in September and the campaign's funds now go towards basic necessities rather than just evacuation. The current priority is to get a new tent and winter supplies before the weather gets even colder.

They abandoned their tent in Khan Yunis due to an unexpected evacuation and their current shelter is inadequate.

Ahmad sent me photos and the walls are made of a flimsy, torn material.

Sep 30: Heavy rainfall recently flooded the area, soaking luggage and bedding in frigid water. The family had to deal with this for several days.

[crabussy]

hi gang. reminder that we are some of the best sweaters in the animal kingdom (second only to equines) allowing us to stay cool and keep moving in hot weather. we have 10 times the density of sweat glands compared to other great apes.

we are ALSO insanely good at smelling rain (specifically geosmin, found in the soil and activated by rain) with the ability to smell 10 parts per trillion. this is speculated to have helped our ancestors survive!

we ALSO have absolutely batshit diets compared to most other animals. caffeine and chocolate are completely toxic to most animals but we can eat it without even feeling sick. even avocados are severely toxic to many animals to the point where it can be fatal to eat, but humans love it!!!

we are ALSO the best endurance runners ON EARTH out of ANY other species. we beat horses in endurance running. you know, the animals that gradually evolved away most of their toes in order to be the best runners?? yeahhh.

and to top it all off. our lifespan is unusually long for our species' weight/mass. typically, the bigger a species is, the longer its average lifespan (e.g. weasels live for 1-2 years, whales can live over 200) but we're very small for how long our average lifespan is. big cats like tigers live around 14-15 years, brown bears 25 years, yet here we are expected to live around 75-85 years. that is NUTS.

humans as a species are so extremely cool. it's not just our intellect that makes us amazing. we may not be the fastest or the strongest in the animal kingdom but we're super cool in many other ways. next time you sweat you can go wow!!! humans are so cool I'm able to keep moving because of my absolutely insane number of sweat glands! thank you evolution!

[queerculus]

National coverage of the hurricane has been so heavily tilted towards the typical hurricane-affected areas that it is going almost completely unreported as of posting that the town of Chimney Rock, North Carolina has been completely leveled.

Aside from some residential areas, the entire town is gone.

I'm posting this because in the coming days and weeks there are going to be a lot of calls to help people who survived the storm and many are going to assume that this is business-as-usual hurricane season stuff, but it isn't. This storm tore through Appalachia, flooding regions that have literally never flooded like this. The hills and plants that hold soil in place have been severely damaged because this kind of weather event is so deeply unprecedented the plants that live here are completely unprepared for this to happen literally ever.

There are no undamanged highways in or out of Asheville. We can't even recover the phone and data networks until trucks can get into the area, and they can't get into the area because some of the roads are just GONE. The water was so fast and so intense it washed the dirt from underneath the pavement and chunks of road literally fell down the fucking mountains.

When you see things over the next few days asking for help, please understand that this is not typical hurricane season damage. Entire communities have been flattened. The infrastructure in much of the region is utterly destroyed and will take weeks just to begin recovery in some parts.

The phone and data grid are offline.

Power and water are out for most people.

The roads used for evacuation are undrivable.

This is an absolute nightmare scenario.

[northgazaupdates]

EMERGENCY

Maha’s @mahaibrahim13 daughter Joan is severely ill with dehydration. She has become very sick due to malnutrition, exposure to cold weather while living on the street, and unsanitary conditions due to the sabotage of Gaza’s waste management infrastructure by the IOF. She cannot keep any fluids in her, and has become lethargic.

Lethargy in dehydrated children is a highly concerning sign. Joan needs to get fluids in her very, very soon. There is a medical hydration solution (meaning a liquid solution) that can help replenish her fluids and nutrients, but it is expensive.

Please send Maha and her family some support so that they can treat Joan’s severe dehydration! Maha is extremely concerned and she has very few options to try to help her daughter!

[frombehindthepen]

In The Event of...Just in Case

In The Event of...Just in Case #EmergencyPreparedness #SurvivalKit #Evacuation

Image Credit: Roger Brown Life-changing events make you think about basic things you feel you should have been prepared for. When Hurricane Hugo hit our area in September 1989, it was a category 4 hurricane with estimated sustained winds of up to 140 miles per hour, and the aftermath of devastation was beyond what we ever experienced during such storms. Growing up in the Lowcountry of South…

[axstoria]

Got this idea from another post that I CANNOT for the life of me find.

AU where Clark comes to Earth as an adult, and has to blend into normal human society.

He knows his name is Kal-El, but he also knows that humans don't have names like that. He sees a couple of celebrities and mashes their names together, hoping that it would make him a bit more likable in the eyes of humans.

He hides sharp-tipped ears behind black curls and ball caps, wears glasses so people won't notice his abnormally deep blue eyes, and is constantly in sweaters despite the weather to conceal muscles that shouldn't exist on a "normal human".

When he gets his job at the Daily Planet and has to interview Bruce Wayne, he's scared. This is his first time being near a real human celebrity, and he's mortified that he'll blow his cover.

He sits and stares at the billionaire for several minutes. This human is gorgeous in all the ways a being can be. His eyes are blue like Earth's oceans, his hair falls in perfect wisps against his forehead, and his outfit is perfectly crisp against his body, perfectly tailored to every small curve.

"Uhm... Mr. Kent?" Bruce bats his eyelashes at him, smiling expectantly.

Clark snaps out of it, his pupils dilating ever so slightly. "You're beautiful. Can I court you? What's your favorite planet?— I'll bring you rocks!"

The man is stunned, watching the reporter for some time before replying, "I... suppose Venus is nice."

Bruce is fully convinced that this reporter is autistic. Makes his life easier. They could connect in that way.

Clark flushes, realizing what he's done. He's very happy the interview wasn't recorded in any way.

Bruce shows up to work the next day and there is a box with his name on it in sloppy handwriting sitting on his desk.

He opens it, and to his amusement—and shock— , there is a piece of rock inside with a note that says one word: Venus.

That night, Bruce takes the rock home to the Batcave and analyzes it for its composition. When it is a match for Venus, he immediately connects the dots that Clark Kent is the new meta being that had been parading around Metropolis and surrounding cities as of late. After all, not even the greatest scientists have yet to reach Venus, so how else would this reporter get a rock from the planet unless he could survive the expanse of space and fly there?

He is dumbfounded. And maybe a little in love.

[abdallahs-posts]

We, the residents of Gaza, are living a daily nightmare of bombings, killings, random shelling, and starvation. The continuous bombardment has brought destruction to our homes, forcing us to live among the rubble and in tents. Water and food have become scarce, and we have to walk long distances every day to get water, exposing ourselves to the risk of disease from severe pollution or death from random shelling. Our tents have no air conditioning and are extremely hot in this summer weather. Everywhere around us, the Israeli occupation forces continue their bombing and aggression.

With each new day, our suffering increases, but our hopes for a better tomorrow remain alive. That is why I have created a donation link to help us escape this miserable life. With your help, we can register all my family members and leave together without worrying about leaving anyone behind in Gaza. We kindly ask you to share this fundraising campaign.

I believe that every donation, no matter how small, can make a difference and help alleviate my family’s suffering by giving them a new chance at life and restoring the hopes and dreams we were forced to abandon. I would be sincerely grateful for any kind of support, whether through donations or simply by sharing the fundraising campaign link with your friends and family and as widely as possible within your social networks.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-abdallah-khader-and-his-family-survive-the-gaza-war?utm_source=copy_link&utm_medium=customer&utm_campaign=man_sharesheet_ft&attribution_id=sl:2c648430-dd5f-4088-91ff-90aa94d79154

We are all deeply grateful and honored and will never forget your kindness during our difficult times. Thank you.

[mide404]

Greetings,

In one of the dark corners of Gaza lives my family, who have endured one of the most tragic incidents imaginable. Due to the brutal war that swept through our region, we lost everything we owned, and misery has become an integral part of our daily lives.

My father, who was the role model and pillar of the family, is no longer with us. We lost him to an airstrike that destroyed our home, leaving a void that can never be filled. My father was a symbol of strength and hope, and with his loss, our foundational pillars collapsed.

The pain did not stop there. We lost two innocent little girls, one being my younger brother's daughter and the other my younger sister's daughter. They were the flowers of our family, and with their loss, it felt as if life had stopped. They carried the innocence of childhood and dreams that were never realized.

Today, we live in a cloth tent that does not protect us from insects or the unbearable hot weather, even for a single hour. In these harsh conditions, we suffer from severe shortages of food, water, and medical care. My mother moves between hospitals seeking treatment, but she faces great difficulty in obtaining the necessary medicine. We all live in constant fear of what might come next.

Due to the spread of insects, skin diseases have started to spread among us, which is my greatest fear for our young children. The situation is worsening with the lack of treatments in hospitals and our shortage of basic resources to survive.

Therefore, I appeal to all kind-hearted people to support my campaign to save my family from this tragic situation. Every contribution, no matter how small, can make a significant difference in our lives.Let us all come together and show the world that humanity is still alive and that hope can flourish even in the darkest of circumstances. Help my family overcome this ordeal, and let your support be a message of hope to all those suffering in Gaza.

[suguann]

✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.

tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]

masterlist

You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.

(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)

She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.

You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.

It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.

You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 

(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)

Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.

This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 

You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 

You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.

You should stay awake. 

You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—

Your luck runs out that day. 

It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.

When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 

“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.

The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

That was several weeks ago. 

Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 

The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.

“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.

You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 

And that is really saying something.

It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.

This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 

(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”

You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.

Until he evidently catches you again.)

He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 

Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.

You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 

Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 

If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 

Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.

You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 

But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.

Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 

Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.

He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 

You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 

Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.

Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 

It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 

They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.

Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.

“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).

A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  

Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.

Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 

(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)

You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.

You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—

He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.

His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.

"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.

You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.

Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.

"In my lap."

Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.

“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.

He grunts, apparently in confirmation.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.

“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”

Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”

And then—

Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.

Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.

“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Help the Al-Habil family survive October.

My other promotion lists

Update: Oct 17

Members: @abdelmutei, @shimaashaban22

Verification: link

Payment methods: Paypal, credit/debit

Donation match: €10

Summary update Sep 26: The Al-Habil family's evacuation campaign is moving very slowly and has dragged on into colder weather. They want to reach their new goal of €20,400 in October to buy food, a tent, and winter clothes (proof under cut). The family has a 2 year old child suffering from severe psychological issues and seizures, so evacuation needs to be a priority after taking care of survival.

Current progress:

€ 11,015 14,411 / 20,400

/ €25,000 (FINAL GOAL)

Abdel Mutei has confirmed that €25,000 is the final goal and not the first goal. The initial goal of €50,000 (changed recently) was a mistake. Proof under cut.

Campaign/family details:

Update Sep 26: Short-term goal made for winter survival.

[ID in alt text]

This family consists of Abdel Mutei (husband) and Shaima (wife), their young daughter Juri, and Abdel Mutei's elderly parents. The gfm page and some of his posts imply more family members, but only these people are involved in this campaign. I got this info from Abdel Mutei himself (proof under cut).

They were displaced roughly 2 months after Oct 7 after their home was bombed and has been displaced twice since.

They currently live in a small tent. Living conditions are poor and all members are suffering from malnutrition.

The children have recently contacted scabies, a highly contagious skin infection causing great itchiness and discomfort.

Juri is suffering from depression and psychological trauma at the age of 2.

Update Aug 27: Juri is suffering from seizures.

They are seeking to evacuate.

Evidence (and other media posts):

Abdel Mutei confirming that €25,000 is the final goal

Abdel Mutei clarifying the family members involved in this campaign and that the initial goal of €50,000 was a mistake