#and it started with my one year old son who I love

[butterfliesinthestorm]

I never expected to grieve this much when one of my cats died. I knew it would hurt, but not to this extent. It's been seven weeks now, and I have been crying every three days.

Skye came to us unexpectedly. She was an outdoor cat when we adopted her, already two or three years old. My son called one day and asked if I could take her in. His friend's family, who had raised her from birth, could no longer keep her and planned to rehome her. When she arrived, she made the most sorrowful sounds for the first two weeks, as if she were in pain. It broke my heart because I knew she was just confused, trying to understand her new surroundings.

We did everything we could to help her adjust, and she didn’t seem to mind our other cat—maybe their presence brought her some comfort. Skye was a beautiful, plump tortoiseshell with striking green eyes. She hated being picked up and growled whenever we tried, but she loved being petted and groomed. Often, she’d lie on her back, watching us from the floor, her green eyes following us as we moved around. My daughter even taught her to sit on command and give paw-fives when she wanted a treat.

What Skye loved most in life were simple joys: eating and being outdoors.

Her Happy Place

When we lived in an apartment on the second floor, she had to settle for the balcony. It wasn’t the same as the freedom of being outdoors, but it seemed to work for her. Our view of the woods gave her something to watch, especially at night. She’d meow to go out as the sun set and stay there until dawn. I’d check on her multiple times during the night and find her sitting regally, one paw over the other, gazing out into the trees.

Years later, when we moved to a townhouse with a fenced-in yard, it felt like we’d given her a piece of her old life back. At first, I worried she’d try to escape, so I put a tracker on her collar. But she never jumped the fence. Instead, she delighted in running through the grass, half-heartedly chasing squirrels and birds—never fast enough to catch them. Mostly, she’d perch on the picnic table, quietly observing. It was her happy place.

Skye didn’t like coming inside, but when extreme heat or cold rolled in, I’d insist. She’d protest with growls and the occasional spray to mark her displeasure. I learned to let her come in on her terms, except during storms or unbearable weather.

At night, I’d look out the window before bed and see her sitting on the table under the moonlight. I don’t know what she was watching, but whatever it was, it brought her peace.

The Final Week

The week before she disappeared, Skye started doing something odd. She began meowing to come inside on her own, something she rarely did. For four nights in a row, she came in around 10 p.m., laying at the foot of my bed or nudging my hand for head rubs. After an hour or two, she’d meow to be let out again.

The last time I saw her alive was early in the morning. I looked out at the yard around 5 a.m. and saw her sitting on the table, as usual. Something about it felt bittersweet. She seemed so alone, yet content. I went outside, called her name, and she turned to me, meowing softly. She blinked slowly, then turned back to face the trees. I sighed and went back inside, not knowing it would be the last time.

Goodbye, Skye

By 8 a.m., Skye was gone. Her tracker showed movement across the street, but despite following the signal and hearing the familiar tune it played, we couldn’t reach her. She moved from bush to bush, evading us for hours. It wasn’t until the next day that I finally found her in a wooded area, lying under a tree.

She looked so peaceful, resting her head on her paws in that regal way she always did. But she was gone.

The vet confirmed there was no sign of illness or injury—she simply went to sleep and didn’t wake up. In her final days, Skye had said goodbye in her own way. She came inside, seeking comfort, before wandering off to pass in the quiet solitude of nature.

Grieving a Family Member

We had Skye for eight wonderful years, and I pray we gave her the best life we could. But it still breaks my heart that she was alone at the end. I know some cats instinctively seek privacy when it’s their time, but that knowledge doesn’t ease the pain.

She wasn’t just a pet; she was family. And now, there’s an emptiness in our home and hearts that can’t be filled. I hold onto the hope that there’s a special place for pets in heaven—a place where sunlight, birds, and trees surround Skye forever.

She was so much more than a cat. She was my companion, my comfort, and my joy. Skye, you are loved and missed dearly.

Closing Reflection

Losing a pet is losing a part of your family, your routine, and your heart. Grief for them is real and valid, and it doesn’t follow a timeline. If you’ve experienced the loss of a pet, know that you’re not alone. Your love for them honors their memory, and it’s okay to cry, to miss them, and to remember them in everything you do.

In time, we learn to carry them with us, in the quiet moments and the cherished memories. For now, I carry Skye in my heart, hoping she’s at peace, just as she brought peace to me.

[emmyrosee]

His foot taps anxiously against the floor of the flower shop, eyes glazing over the beautiful bouquets and vibrant colors that splash under the fluorescent lights that crackle above his head. The smell of so many flowers is getting into his head, powdery and sweet, but the nausea brewing inside of him is not budging.

He messed up. He knows that.

He also knows he relies on the bet that you’ll accept flowers every time he messes up, which while seldom, happens more than he still would like.

You deserve the utmost love and respect. And he can’t stand that sometimes, he feels like he can’t give it to you and has to hope flowers will be enough for your trust again, like a bandaid on a scraped knee.

After this, he’ll run to the bakery for a pastry, wrapped in a little box, waiting for you to enjoy it-

What is he thinking, countless gifts won’t make up for it, for all he’s done. You’ll never forgive him, each bouquet and each slice of cake when he messes up surely is only driving you away, and he cards a hand through his blonde hair as he has a small, teeny freak out in front of the display.

He looks to the old man next to him who easily picks out a bouquet of assorted flowers with a predominantly purple color story. The old man sniffs them, and smiles, before sighing happily. He turns to Atsumu with small nod, “think she’ll like ‘em?”

Atsumu tenses up before offering the old man a small chuckle, “sure is one of the prettiest bouquets in here,” he encourages, and the man hums as he looks around the boquete for any imperfections in the petals. “She’ll be lucky to have them from ya, yessir.”

The man smiles, “no, son; I’m lucky to have her.” He sighs dreamily, “there isn’t enough bouquets in the world to show her how much she means to me.”

Atsumu freezes. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, a lump forms into his throat at the man’s words. He tries to swallow it thickly, keep his emotions at bay before he wails to this strange man about all the ways he’s hurt you over the years and how always, he’s never been able to fully forgive himself despite you assuring that you do.

This argument would be no different.

Atsumu nods his head in understanding, “I think you might be in the same boat as me,” he says, wondering if this man too, is making up for a mistake he made. If this man is trying to repent, and the first way to do it is to bring her flowers, a symbol of a love he’s determined to keep blooming, keep alive, keep beautiful.

But maybe, just maybe, he’s not relying on the fact that flowers are an apology, perhaps they’re being purchased just because, just to make you smile.

Perhaps Atsumu should start doing that for you. Just something nice.

Something to look forward to.

The man chuckles once more; it’s raspy, like perchance he’s one to indulge in a cigarette when the craving arises, but it’s comforting, and for the first time in hours, Atsumu feels a little more at ease.

“At least we’re in the boat, my friend,” the man says. Atsumu swallows thickly once more, but he flashes the man a comforted smile.

“You’re right. We sure are, sir.”

The man bows at the blonde, “you take care of yourself,” he says simply, before coolly turning to make his way to the registers. Atsumu looks back at the boquetes and grabs one that reminds him of you; bright and pristine, like bubbles on a warm day, a warm blanket at night. Like the movie you can repeat by heart by now, but he’ll still watch with you like it’s the first time.

He smiles, sniffles and blinks the sting in his waterline, thrilled to be in the boat with you.

[girl-named-matty]

Little morning - Life after Hogwarts

synopsis ✧ Being a parent wasn't exactly easy and Sebastian found that out the hard way after the birth of his first son--who was now two-years-old and they were also expecting another. But regardless, he loved being a father. But the biggest problem with having a pregnant wife? A little toddler who just so happens to be a big mummy's boy that tries to wake her up at any chance he gets.

tags ✧ Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, like so much fluff you guys. Talks of pregnancy and babies (ofc), toddlers (thats a warning in itself haha), marriage, just all the domestic cutesy stuff we all love. .

word count ✧ 1.6k

a/n ✧ Just some random cute idea I got and I have been ITCHING to write Seb and Matty as parents. You've probably seen my other posts about their kids when they are older but I really wanted to do some of the younger stuff as well because the baby fever is strong rn and I need a outlet LOL.🥺 Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Sebastian Sallow severely underestimated how difficult being a parent would be and just how much sleep he would lose by being one as well. Sure, he knew kids were difficult, and his wife had told him countless stories of the kids she had nannied or worked with who were difficult, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Little Eleazar was just past two years old by now, and yes, he was an abnormally well-behaved child; he still was a toddler, and well—toddlers did toddler things.

But despite the lack of sleep, the rough days, and the struggle of learning how to be a first-time parent, it was all worth it. They loved their little boy, and they loved him just the way he was.

And apparently it was “so worth” it enough that Matty was now pregnant with their second child. Or at least in Sebastian’s words, it was “so worth” having another. Matty had always wanted a couple of children, so she was up for having a second, but Sebastian was definitely the one who pushed the idea to have another.

Hence why she was now seven months pregnant and dealing with a toddler. But thankfully, Sebastian was a very hands-on and involved dad, and it made it all so much easier. He was an amazing husband and father. (She couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the reason why she considered a second.)

It was nearing seven am when Sebastian, who was half asleep, heard the little pitter-patter of footsteps nearing the bedroom door. They had moved Ele into a different room a couple of months ago so he could get used to sleeping without Mum and Dad, especially once the new baby was around. But almost every morning, like clockwork, he managed to climb out of his crib and sneak off to Mum and Dad's room.

Sebastian, immediately knowing who it was, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The little footsteps stopped right at the door, which meant the door needed to be opened. Eleazar wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the door handle and turn it, so usually Sebastian would have to do it himself since he was the first one up.

He could practically hear his son pouting on the other side of the door, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Matty, who was still peacefully sleeping.

He walked over to the door before opening it, looking down at his son. “Well, good morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly.

Eleazar quickly put his hands up, babbling a little to let his dad know that he wanted to be picked up. Sebastian leaned down and grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “You’re two years old; you gotta start using your words, buddy.” He softly encouraged. But it seemed like Ele was too tired to speak anyway since he was rubbing his eyes the moment he was up in his father's arms.

Sebastian sat back down in bed, Eleazar placed in between him and Matty. “If you’re going to be here, you gotta go back to sleep.” He said, trailing his knuckle against his son's chubby cheeks. Of course, he was only saying this to try and get more sleep himself, but when did toddlers ever listen to anybody?

Instead, Eleazar turned around, seeing that his mother was in bed. “Mummy,” he babbled with a big smile, crawling over to where she was sleeping.

Sebastian’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had to quickly grab his son and pull him away from his mother in order for him not to wake her up. She definitely needed more sleep. “Wait, wait, no, we can’t go to Mummy right now, okay? Mummy is sleeping.” Sebastian tried to explain.

However, Eleazar did not like being told no. Especially when it came to his mummy. The corner of his lips curled down, forming a little frown, and by the way his little bottom lip quivered, Sebastian could quickly tell that he was going to start crying.

Panicking a little more, Sebastian quickly grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He soothed. “We just can’t wake up Mummy right now; she’s resting.”

He knew Eleazar couldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would help calm him down. “Mummy is very tired, and she has little brother or sister to deal with too, okay?” He continued. “I can assure you that definitely isn’t easy.” He half mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. But that was more for his own amusement than an explanation.

Ele didn’t cry, but he looked up at his father with his big blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, a pout still on his face. “Mummy.” He repeated, this time more determined.

Sebastian sighed, shifting to where he was now lying down with the child in his arms. “Mummy is asleep. Which is what you should be doing right now too. You’re still so young to be waking up this early.”

“No.”

Sebastian sighed again. He hated the fact that usually one of the first five words for children was usually no. It was helpful when they could communicate what they wanted, but it also happened to become their favorite word very quickly. Saying no to everything mummy or daddy needed them to do.

“Yes.”

“Mm-hm.” Eleazar shook his head, clearly conveying that he was saying no.

“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckled, pinching his son's cheeks.

But luckily for the both of them, Matty shifted a little, signaling that she was indeed finally awake. Ele quickly looked behind him, seeing his mother begin to wake up. A big smile instantly appeared on his face, and he slipped out of his dad's arms and immediately crawled over to his mother. He was a big mummy’s boy and always wanted to be with her.

When Matty felt two little hands on her arms, she chuckled, opening her eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, the sleep still obvious in her voice.

Eleazar immediately plopped his full body weight onto his mother, giving her a big hug. She laughed, giving him a hug back before sitting up. She looked over at Sebastian and then back down to her son. “Something tells me you’ve been giving your father a little bit of a hard time.” She said, poking her son's little tummy.

“I’ll say,” Sebastian muttered. “Little bugger tried to wake you up the moment he got into bed.”

Matty smiled. “He just loves his mummy,” she cooed, shifting little Ele so she could have him comfortably against her.

Raising a toddler and being pregnant definitely wasn’t easy, but to Matty, it was worth it in the long run. Not all mornings did she wake up as nicely as she did now, but these mornings definitely helped and made up for the bad days.

“Well, thank you for letting me sleep in a little longer.” She said to Sebastian before leaning in for a quick good morning kiss from him. Sebastian smiled into the kiss, enjoying the attention from his wife. Sometimes that was scarce between work and raising a baby, so he was always loving any attention he got from her.

Meanwhile, little Ele was looking at his mother's belly, still wondering what on earth was going on there. It started to frustrate him that he could no longer sit on his mummy’s lap, but he slightly understood the concept of having another new little sibling that was seemingly “in mummy’s tummy” and that it was a baby.

Matty looked down and chuckled. “Say hi to the baby, Ele.” She urged.

Eleazar didn’t say anything, but he did wave, thinking that his little brother or sister could see him do so. Matty giggled a little bit at her son's expression, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “In just a little bit you’ll have a new brother or sister, and it’s gonna be sooo fun,” she said.

“Sleepless nights and screaming babies are an interesting thing to consider fun.” Sebastian joked sarcastically.

“Remind me whose idea it was to have a second?” Matty said, raising her brow at her husband. She knew he was just joking, but she did like to poke fun at him because, after all, it was his idea to have another baby once Eleazar was a little older.

“It was mine, and I’ll totally own up to that.” He chuckled, pulling his wife close to him. “And I can’t wait to have another. Anything from you is a complete blessing, and I’m lucky to have you and our children.”

Matty smiled and leaned her head against his chest. She had married the right man, that’s for sure. And boy did she love him.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck.

“Don’t want another little boy?” She chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow.

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll be happy either way. I just want a healthy baby. But since we have a boy already, I think it’d be nice to have a sweet little girl. Beautiful and intelligent, just like her mother.” He said, giving Matty a little squeeze.

“And here I thought you wanted a little mini-you.” Matty said.

“Oh trust me, I do.” Sebastian replied. “But who's to say that a little girl can’t be my mini-me? We can get into all sorts of trouble together.”

“Mhm, right. Not on my watch.” Matty joked with a laugh.

“Worth a shot.” Sebastian grinned.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading! 🥺❤️

[diivineangel]

“ i’ve got something to confess…i keep you in my pocket to use…. you’re my only compass, i might get lost without you. ”

𝓢ynopsis: toji, your boyfriend, after escaping from the oppressive zenin clan with your help, has managed to find peace and happiness at your side, forming a small family with you and your son, megumi. now, with his heart full and his future clear, he gathers his courage to ask you the question he’s long kept close: will you be by his side, not just today, but for all the days to come?

pairing: toji x fem!reader

cont: pure fluff!!

wc: 944

────       𝓢ince the day Toji met you, his life had shifted like night to day. For so long, his world was a bleak, unforgiving place, suffocating under the weight of the Zenin Clan’s shadow. From the moment he could remember, they had stolen his peace, filling his life with violence, betrayal, and endless despair. But then you came—an unexpected light, so steady and unwavering, guiding him out of that suffocating darkness.

It was you who gave him the courage to break free, to turn his back on the demons of his past and embrace a life he’d never dared to dream of. Now, away from the poison of the clan, Toji finally knew peace. He wasn’t perfect—his work with the Time Vessel Association still bore its own burdens, and the itch of his gambling addiction lingered like a storm on the horizon. Yet, for you, for the person who held his heart so tightly, he was determined to be better.

You weren’t just his love. You were his everything. His sun. His reason for trying, for smiling, for waking up every morning with hope in his chest. And there was one other piece of light that had crept into his world: his son, little Megumi. Barely a year old, Megumi was a miracle—a reminder that even in his broken life, something pure and beautiful could exist. Toji adored him, fiercely and protectively, holding onto him as if the boy was the fragile thread that tied his family together.

It was a golden summer afternoon when this small family—yours, his, and Megumi’s—shared a moment of calm. The backyard buzzed with laughter and warmth as close friends gathered for a poolside day. Children dashed across the grass, their shrieks of joy filling the air, and little Megumi had found a fast friend in Itadori, a boy with the same playful, unrelenting energy. They chased each other around the yard, giggling, their tiny feet padding against the ground.

You leaned back, soaking in the scene, but something tugged at the edge of your attention. Toji wasn’t himself. He sat near you, his eyes sharp and restless, his jaw tightening every so often. Though his lips curved into a faint smile, you could tell it wasn’t quite reaching his heart. You caught his gaze and raised a brow, silently asking if he was okay. He shook his head slightly, dismissing your worry, and you let it go—for now.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky and the guests prepared to leave, Toji excused himself. You watched him slip inside the house, confusion creeping in. Moments later, he returned, and this time, something was different. His entire presence seemed to glow—his shoulders relaxed, his steps confident, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

“Hey, everyone,” he said, clearing his throat and catching the attention of the group. The chatter fell silent, curiosity sparking in their eyes. Toji looked at you then, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with something unspoken yet overwhelming.

He took a step closer to you, rubbing the back of his neck—a small crack in his usual unshakable demeanor. His voice was lower now, softer, meant only for you despite the crowd around him.

“Babe,” he started, his lips twitching nervously. “We’ve been through so much together. More than I ever thought I’d survive. You’ve… you’ve changed everything for me. You gave me a life I didn’t think I deserved. You gave me hope. And Megumi… you gave me a family.”

Your breath caught, the air around you suddenly thicker, the moment stretching out. Toji paused, swallowing hard, his fingers curling into fists as if steadying himself. Then, as if he could hold it in no longer, the words tumbled from him, raw and honest.

“I don’t know how to say this in a way that does justice to what you mean to me, but… I want you forever. I want to keep waking up next to you, keep watching you laugh, keep being the man you make me want to be.” He dropped to one knee, and the air around you seemed to explode with gasps and murmurs from your friends.

Toji reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, simple ring—modest, but gleaming with a kind of care that took your breath away. His voice cracked as he spoke, but his words were steady, strong, and utterly sincere.

“Marry me, sunshine. Be mine forever.”

The world seemed to stop. All the noise—the laughter, the distant hum of summer, the pounding of your own heart—melted into silence as his words wrapped around you. Toji’s eyes, filled with hope and a rare vulnerability, searched yours, waiting.

And in that moment, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Only love.

🏷️ : @lemonlover1110 @sugoroo @wintrrxxo @yung-notorious @jazzthatonewriterchick

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

I'm back with more demigod dead boy detectives (parts one and two for those interested)! In short, Edwin is a son of Athena (born at the turn of the 20th century) who spent seventy years in the fields of punishment by accident - after he escaped it was 1989 and most of the gods had moved to America of all places.

And despite all that, St Hilarion was still functioning as a demigod heaven. Edwin is not happy. At all.

Charles on the other hand is having an interesting time all around. The backstory for him that I came up with starts from before he was born. The OG pjo au that I read had his father be Ares and yes?! I adore the Frank Zang of him?

But his mom and Ares didn't click in my mind until I realized that Ares is in an on-and-off relationship with Aphrodite - who is cutting and sharp and tough but also soft and ditsy and a bit shallow. His past lovers don't all need to be veterans or kickboxers. It was an eureka moment, to be honest.

Charles' mom (name still in the works) met Ares in a museum showcasing ancient pottery and jewelry - some of them Greek - most of which depicted old heroic tales or bore the scars of the years. They started talking completely by chance - Aphrodite had stood Ares up and he didn't feel like going back to what he was doing. He decided to check this collection out - to reminisce or to try and remember fallen friends. Or just to sulk. Either way, he was there.

Charles's future mom sees him and the conflicting aesthetic of his clothing and the display he was looking at makes her want to talk with him. They hit it off. He asks to see her again and the rest is history.

They are together for four months before she gets pregnant. As expected from a god, Ares disappears from her life with only a few words. Charles's mom is left alone with a baby, in a shitty apartment with no family in the country.

It sucks. Like a lot.

Then she meets Paul Richard Rowland.

(I'm sorry but I can't do Paul's name dirty in a pjo au, I just can't. Although the irony was amusing enough to make me consider it for a whole second.)

They hit it off even with the occasionally crying baby in the next room. Soon they are engaged to be married - and married soon afterward. Charles's last name is changed and would you look at that - a happy family.

Not.

Charles is a charming and athletic boy with a love for ska and a bit of a temper. His dad is a cunt and his mom is quiet. That's fine until it isn't.

In an argument, it gets out that Richard isn't Charles's actual father (he is 14 when that happens). Stuff gets progressively worse after that (both with Richard and with the monsters - Richard's whole "something is wrong with you" really drives in the "I am different" mindset you really don't want in an untrained demigod) until Charles' mom gets desperate and contacts the boarding school - Ares had assured her that it would always have a spot for Charles.

(The phone number is that of the school board of all the still functioning demigod establishments. Had Charles been a girl they would have referred the mom to one of the all-girls or mixed schools. It's a system run by descendants, wind spirits and satyrs.)

((It's not as efficient as say sending satyrs to schools, but they only have so many satyrs. They do the guardian routine! Honest!))

Fast forward and Charles has been to St Hil for almost a year and a half. He is a semi-full-year camper in the sense he went home once for one summer and then only for two to three days a year.

He gets along with his siblings and the cricket team. He is friendly and nice but 80s racism and classist bullshit exist - he can't be too vocal with his thoughts and opinions less he is ostracized by his peers, he has to play a role he only has half the script of. The demigod thing isn't always a blessing.

He is a deft hand with daggers and knives, he is skilled with a sword - but he would prefer to play cricket or go to concerts. No magical barrier means nightly patrols and the occasional monster attack.

Cue the death scene. It plays like canon but with weapons. He is chased into the freezing lake by his siblings and his former mates. (And Charles had been so excited about having siblings - but this - they - he couldn't call brothers.)

There aren't any naiads during the winter - or they are sleeping deep into it. No one intervenes. He manages to escape his pursuers by going deeper into the woods until he comes across an old shed.

Charles goes in.

(He didn't hear the sharp snap of twigs and branches in the other direction of the one he was going. He didn't notice the second pair of footsteps shadowing his own.)

((He does see the lantern.))

And they finally meet. Isn't it grand? (TBC)

[2346khith]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

Show your support for this GoFundMehttps://gofund.me/1d3a37c4

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[skyartworkzzz]

I came back to promp another lore ramble

Also could we get a status update on the fic? I really want to see nari go back in time for the lamb

YIPPEEEEEEEEE love me lore ramble!

FIRST AND FOREMOST, OFC!! Heres a tiny lil update of the fic so far! I finally got back to writing it and am just struggling to find out what happens next.......but I promise its in the works! <3

NOW onto the ramble! Yesterday I went a bit ham on my Creepypasta reimagination, so thats what we will be talking about today! Specifically centered around Jeff the Killer CUZ IM THAT PREDICTABLE OKAY-

Anyways! Lore under the cut <3 tw for violence and gore!!

Jeff The Killer:

My Jeff is around his 35 years old and is the younger brother of Liu, who's only 1-2 years older and works as an architect

The brothers share the same apartment, Jeff decided to move in with Liu after living with their parents for a while. Hes currently trying to amount enough money in order to move somewhere of his own

Jeff suffers from depression and has psychotic episodes from time to time, so he has to take meds. Even after he became a killer, he still steals the needed medication to keep his mental exhaustion in check

From time to time, their lower-floor neighbor Ms. Harper calls Jeff to fix her old sink. Everytime Jeff goes over, her son pesters him for fun, which is why Jeff hates him

One day, both Jeff and Liu are invited to the bday of Ms. Harper's son, which was being held at his aunt's house. While in the party, her kitchen sink floods and so she asks Jeff to fix it. While doing so, Ms. Harper's kid accidentally throws chemicals on Jeff's face after trying to prank him with his friends

Jeff is then driven to the hospital by Liu, but they suffer a car crash, which makes Jeff's face melt down and turn pale white. Liu suffered the major damages and had to go through surgeries to put his organs back in place

When Jeff wakes up and sees the damage that was done, he suffers a mental breakdown which leads him to murder Ms. Harper's son. Once the deed was done, he disappeared and started his serial killing career

Jeff cut his lips into a smile specifically to terrify Ms. Harper's son, as if guilting him bout thinking what he did was funny

Before going off the radar, Jeff visited Liu one last time without others knowing, saying he didnt blame his brother for what had happened. Liu, although half-conscious, was able to hear Jeff telling him to go back to sleep

Homicidal Liu:

HONESTLY my Liu doesnt have much of "homicidal" to him LMAO

After the events that led both him and Jeff into the hospital, Liu went through surgeries to recover and was in a coma for a couple of days, which was the time it took for Jeff to start his killer life

When Liu woke up and learned that his brother had disappeared, he quickly volunteered to help and search for him, until finally discovering he was a murderer

Convinced to bring him back to his senses, Liu begged to be part of the police operation to capture Jeff, after proving he could be of use for knowing how his brother worked. And so, he was teamed up with a detective called Jane, who was in charge of arresting Jeff

After much investigation and searching, Liu and Jane finally came face to face with the killer, but came to a fight which led Jeff to carving a smile on Liu's face too and almost ripping his eyelids off like his own. Liu was led back to the hospital after this and received stitches

Seeing as they were lacking experience to capture Jeff, both the detectives accepted to undergo a special training. However, due to Liu's physical state, he wasn't able to finish it and decided to remain on the more schemeful side of the operation rather than direct combat

Given his stitches on his mouth and the horrible wounds his brother left on him, Liu constantly uses a mask and clothes that cover most of his body

Jane the Killer:

Jane works as a detective for the police, she is happily married to a woman named Mary and both live in a spacious, fancy apartment

Her parents were kindhearted and lived with her little sister, Jessie, in a simple house around the quieter parts of the city

Being one of the best agents and praised by the government, Jane was tasked with tracking down Jeff and bringing him to justice. It was during this search that Liu came into contact with her, after learning she was in charge of the operation

Throughout the times they spent together trying to capture Jeff, the killer murdered Jane's parents as a warning for her to leave him alone. But understandbly, that only made her more convinced to seize him with a new goal in mind: kill Jeff

When Liu and Jane received the special traning, Liu wasnt able to participate due to his condition, but Jane carried out until the last step. She was injected with Liquid Hate and gained her superpowers, with the side-effects being her skin turning pale and her eyes and hair black

After the "training" was done, Jane came closer and closer to finally capturing Jeff, but with an unexpected drawback: she was now wanted by the police for committing crimes she couldnt remember doing. Given the new scenario, the detective started working as an underworld punisher

She still searches for Jeff and stays in touch with Liu, now secretly since she is also being hunted down. They both still work as partners from time to time trying to find his brother

Lil extras!

After her parents were killed, Jessie moved in with Jane and Mary, being a survivor of Jeff's wrath luckily for not being home that day

Liu does not know Jane intends to kill Jeff, and she will never tell him, for she knows he will try to stop her

The Liquid Hate project was actually a Proxy experiment, organized by one of Slenderman's Agents who was also the scientist in charge of the special training Jane and Liu received. Jane became a Sleeper thanks to said experiment, with homicidal tendencies she is luckily able to channel to wanted criminals

That is all for now! Theres a whole lot more I havent said here cuz omfg thats too long already

MAYBE ONE DAY ILL BE able to write my own fanfictions about these, who knows

Anyways! Bless chu for the curiosity <3

[crow-with-a-pencil]

One year anniversary of the kelp blorbo who changed my brain chemistry forever

Happy birthday Beetle :)

[grimmweepers]

life comes at you so fast

[airyairyaucontraire]

I first learned the word "bogus" from Danny the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl, in which Danny warns us that if somebody smiles with their mouth but the look in their eyes doesn't change, "it's sure to be bogus." In some editions (I'm not sure if this is a US/UK thing or an updating thing) the word is replaced with "phoney," which I find less satisfying. There are just a few words where I can specifically remember what or who I learned them from; "bogus" is one and "brittle" is another (my mother explaining why I might not be able to keep the little plastic cocktail animal* that was on the rim of my milkshake glass at a restaurant forever)

In both cases, I think I initially thought of the word as just having that extremely specific meaning (the falsity of a smile that doesn't reach the eyes, the fragility of thin inflexible plastic), didn't encounter it again for some time, and when it came up again in a different context I was like "What are you doing here?"

*twas a donkey

[biboybuckley]

i had the WEIRDEST fucking dream last night

[shannonsketches]

It isn’t potential, though. Vegeta is famously, canonically, interesting and complex and well written, despite the anime’s best efforts to stifle it. The nuggets you get from Toei are what survived them scraping off Toriyama’s (very good, highly skilled) storytelling and character writing to focus on making Goku as plastic and stiff as the action figures they use the series to market (which Toriyama actively, vocally, and repeatedly did not want or like).

when u like a character for their potential to be interesting and complex more than how they’re actually written

[19catsncounting]

Therapy isn't enough I need the CW to go back and re-film Season 11 to prove that Lucifer could have been saved if Michael didn't abandon him like Dean refused to abandon Sam.

[arolesbianism]

I should rly start eternal gales posting again I need to make sure the ppl who follow me know how much Tali and Aris make me to insane so that the isat au can have its full effect but alas I am allergic to drawing the human eg cast like 99% of the time and rn the only thing stopping that from being 100% is that I like fucking around with different art styles sometimes

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[maysaasalman]

Hello 👋

Hello, I am Maysa Al-Dahdouh from Gaza. My family and I face death, hunger, and diseases daily. We are a Palestinian family in need of help from anyone with a living conscience, a compassionate heart, and an understanding of humanity.

Help me overcome adversity

I am reaching out to you today, standing firm against incredible challenges. Life in our area has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and escalating conflict, and I struggle to secure the basic necessities for myself and my family.

About me and my family

I am married to Hussam Al-Dahdouh, and I am 38 years old. I have five children: Jamal, 16 years old; Muhammad, 14 years old, who suffers from a chronic illness known as Mediterranean fever and must take lifelong medication; Layan years old; Amir, 8 years old;

We have faced death dozens of times. Our home was completely damaged and burned down, making it uninhabitable. We have been displaced more than 20 times and have miraculously survived certain death. We have lost over 100 relatives, neighbors, and loved ones. The area I live in is subjected to rockets, shelling, and gunfire every day. We struggle to find healthy food, clean drinking water, and medication for my son Muhammad. My children can no longer return to school.

Therefore, my family and I have decided to leave Gaza to protect our children from death, hunger, and diseases due to the war, lack of

food and medicine, water pollution, and

How you can help us

• By making a financial donation, even if it's small.

• By sharing our story on social media.

• By offering words of support and encouragement.

The funds raised will be used for:

• Our departure from Gaza and seeking refuge in a country that respects human rights, such as Canada, Belgium, or Sweden. The cost of leaving is high, as each family member needs $5,000 to leave. Since we will be starting our lives anew outside Gaza, we will also need housing, appliances, cooking utensils, education expenses, medication, and health and psychological rehabilitation.

Every contribution, no matter how small, is important

No donation is too small; every contribution brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you cannot contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your generous network can make a significant difference.

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Thank you

Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for your kind generosity. You can help us overcome these difficult times.