#send help !!!

[2-59-amwater]

FUCKING OBLIGATION ??!!!

I CANT ESCAPE FML 😭

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

[enghanalulu]

Urgent and very important you should know 🙏🚨🚨

Winter has come in Gaza and the bitter cold has made us like idols 🥶🥶

The tents were blown away and we were out in the open without any blankets or anything. It is very difficult and I find it difficult to talk about everything. I am asking you for help and I hope that you will help us and look at us since you stand with Palestine and Gaza. We are in great need of help Very very.. Support me, every euro will work 😭🙏🙏Support link ��👇

Please reblog posts and support me 🙏

@utopian-mind @utopians @imlizy-blog-blog @ot3 @heydreamchild @soon-palestine @appsa @risoria @notallmen-yesallwomen @commissions4aid-international @gothhabiba @imjustheretotrytohelp @kinderes @kordeliiius @katsunaksu @littlestpersimmon @littleguymart @lovetododeku @virovac @victoriawhimsey @frognonymous @femmefitz @fleshdyk3 @bixels @butchfeygele @buttercuparry @postanagramgenerator @paper-mario-wiki @positivityfortoday @popo-salad @roadimusprime @2spirit-0spoons @wizardarchives @2000ish @jeemarcal @mysillycomics @marxandangels @monstermashpotato @yamujiburo @akajustmerry @90-ghost @mangocheesecakes @sayruq @trans-leek-cookie @moomoobug @bixlasagna @paparoach @rainy-fog @dlxxv-vetted-donations @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

[aid-alaa]

🆘 Real Famine & Imminent Death Hitting All Cities Of The Gaza Strip !!!

For the 417th day of the ongoing WAR on Gaza.

The crossings have been closed & the entry of meat, chicken, eggs & food supplies has been banned, the cost of 25kg of flour has reached £650.

Our state of mind & the state of the people here is "Take our blood from us & give us a dough of flour"

For over 100 Days we have been relying on canned legumes like beans & peas to survive.

Direct Donation Link 🔗

Thank's A Lot ❤️

My Account was Verified #99

[uh-thatsquestionable]

i question everything

you could ask any one of my friends and i say this all the time whether it’s earned or not it’s just like my saying haha

no lol like i do but also that has been my username on so many platforms but with an underscore instead of a dash. i can name like at least 6 but the only one i will mention is ao3 bc yall should see what i post on there!! i just got into writing again and i never published any of my old stuff so i’ll post more stuff.

USERNAME LORE GIVE IT TO ME NOW YOU ALL

[fifty555]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ poetry? no, pottery!

a lil’ love between you and little lando norris 💞 with a twist as you’re a ceramist/potterer!

content warning; none! just enjoy the fluffs! ah, there’s a bit of explicit language (i think?), but nothing drastic! enjoy 😽!

summary; childhood friends reconnect after years apart—he’s a formula 1 driver, and you’re a ceramist.

Lando Norris was used to his friends teasing him. Whether it was his golfing misadventures, his love for Twitch streams, or his occasional emotional outbursts on team radio, there was always something to make him the subject of banter on and off the grid. But the one thing they had yet to figure out—something that he was genuinely proud of—was the pottery.

It started innocuously enough. A vase here, a decorative bowl there. The other drivers had assumed Lando had simply developed a newfound taste for ceramic art after moving to Monaco. Carlos had even joked once, “You’re just trying to look posh, mate.”

But no one had noticed the small etchings at the back of each piece: a simple ‘Lan’ with a heart. Subtle, personal, and not exactly the kind of thing you’d put on items for sale. That mystery had lingered until one fateful evening when everything unravelled in the most chaotic way imaginable.

It was post-race at Silverstone, and the whole grid had gathered for dinner at a private venue. Spirits were high after a spectacular British Grand Prix, with plenty of laughs and, naturally, plenty of friendly ribbing.

Lando sat beside Oscar, carefully monitoring his phone, knowing full well that at any moment you might call. You were in your apartment in Mexico, finalising details for an art exhibit while simultaneously working on personal pottery commissions. Lando adored how dedicated you were to your craft, even if it often left you so absorbed that you forgot things—like where you’d placed your keys, or, as he was about to find out, something a little more important.

Amid the loud chatter, Lando’s phone buzzed, and your name flashed on the screen. Without thinking, he swiped to answer. “Hey, love,” he greeted, but before he could say anything else, your panicked voice filled the room.

“Lan, I lost my ring! I don’t know where it is!”

Shoot, he forgot about the speaker.

The room fell eerily silent as the unmistakable sound of your frantic cries echoed from the speaker.

Lando froze. His brain short-circuited as he realised his phone was still on speaker. Every single driver at the table—except for Oscar, Alex, and George—was staring at him like he’d just confessed to murder.

“Oh, for fu—” Lando scrambled to turn off the speaker, but not before you continued, “Baby, I don’t know where it is! I can’t even—”

He interrupted, voice strained with embarrassment. “Have you checked the wet clays? That’s usually where you’d lose it.”

The line went quiet for a second as the realisation hit you. “Shit. I’ll go check. Thanks, love. Enjoy your dinner with the boys, bye!” You ended the call abruptly, leaving Lando to deal with the aftermath.

“What the hell was that?” Daniel was the first to break the silence, leaning forward with a grin that practically screamed mischief.

“No, who the fuck was that?” Max followed, his bluntness cutting through the rising chaos like a hot knife through butter.

The room erupted in questions. Pierre was halfway across the table, trying to pry answers from Lando, while Charles was practically yelling over everyone else. Meanwhile, Carlos gave Lando a pointed look. “Mate, don’t tell me you’ve got a secret girlfriend and you’ve been hiding it from me?”

Lando’s cheeks burned as he fumbled to explain. “Look, it’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?!” Charles’ voice reached a pitch that only dogs could hear. “You’ve been holding out on us! Who is she?”

Amidst the chaos, Alex calmly took a sip of his drink and glanced at Charles. “You’ve met her before.”

“I have?” Charles frowned, genuinely confused.

George pulled out his phone, scrolled through his photos, and handed it over. “Here, this’ll jog your memory.”

The photo showed George, Alex, and you at a karting event years ago, laughing over slices of pizza. You were unmistakable, even with the short haircut and boyish charm you used to sport.

And the fact that you used to terrorise Charles on the grid.

Charles’ eyes widened. “You’re telling me that demon is Lando’s—”

“Fiancée,” Lando corrected with a smug grin, cutting him off. “She’s my fiancée.”

If the table had been chaotic before, it was nothing compared to the uproar that followed.

“Fiancée?!” Charles looked moments away from fainting. Pierre had to physically restrain him from climbing over the table.

Max, ever the straight shooter, raised a brow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since October 2020,” Lando admitted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms defensively.

“You kept this a secret for three years?” Daniel looked simultaneously impressed and horrified. “And all we got were vases?”

“Wait,” Carlos interjected, pointing a finger at Lando. “The pottery—don’t tell me that’s her doing?”

Lando smirked, finally finding his footing in the conversation. “Actually, most of it’s hers. But I helped with a few pieces.”

“Explains the hearts,” Pierre muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Meanwhile, back in your studio, you’d found the missing engagement ring embedded in a chunk of wet clay. You snapped a quick photo of your clay-covered hands, the ring perched delicately on your finger, and sent it to Lando with the message: Found it. Your forgetfulness is rubbing off on me.

Lando responded with a selfie of his own, a defeated look on his face, and the message: The cat’s out of the bag.

You could only laugh, imagining the absolute carnage he was dealing with at dinner.

Now, the question is, how did you guys meet?

Well, let’s take a trip down memory lane, yes?

It started at a karting track in Guildford when they were both nine years old. Lando was already making waves on the circuit, a scrappy kid with untamed curls and an infectious grin. You, on the other hand, were a quiet but fiercely competitive racer, constantly being told you’d never make it because you were a girl.

That day, your paths crossed in the most cliché yet heartwarming way. You’d crashed during qualifying and sat on the sidelines, fuming as you inspected the damaged kart. Lando, fresh off his own session, wandered over with a bag of gummy bears and an awkward grin.

“Want one?” he asked, holding the bag out to you.

You glanced up, unimpressed. “Unless it fixes my kart, no thanks.”

“It doesn’t,” he admitted, plopping one into his mouth, “but they’re good for sulking.”

Reluctantly, you took one. That was all it took. From that day forward, you became friends—rivals on the track, co-conspirators off it. The karting world was small, and you often found yourselves travelling the same circuits, sharing snacks, and occasionally teaming up to prank the other kids.

But all good things come to an end, and for Lando, the end came when you abruptly quit karting at twelve. One day you were there, racing alongside him, and the next, you were gone. No explanations, no goodbyes—just a void where his fiercest rival and closest friend had been.

Years passed. Lando threw himself into racing, climbing the ranks to Formula 1, but he never stopped wondering what had happened to you. He’d hear whispers—something about pottery, about you exchanging one love for another—but nothing concrete.

Then, in 2020, he walked into a pop-up art gallery in London and froze. There, amidst a sea of ceramic sculptures, was a name he hadn’t seen in years: yours. And standing by a display of hand-thrown vases, chatting animatedly with a small group of people, was you.

Lando hesitated, heart pounding as he watched you laugh, looking so effortlessly radiant it hurt. He was a world-famous F1 driver now, but at that moment, he felt like the same awkward boy offering gummy bears to his angry rival.

Finally, he worked up the courage to approach you. “Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Nice vases.”

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, as if no time had passed at all, you grinned. “Nice curls.”

The conversation flowed as easily as it always had. Over coffee the next day, you explained why you’d quit karting. Your parents had pulled you out, worried about the pressure and the toxic environment you were facing as a girl in a male-dominated sport. You’d turned to pottery as an outlet and never looked back.

“I missed it, though,” you admitted, stirring your latte. “I missed racing. I missed… you.”

Lando’s heart clenched. “I missed you too.”

The transition from friendship to romance was seamless, almost inevitable. But given Lando’s high-profile career, you both agreed to keep the relationship private. It wasn’t easy. There were stolen weekends in Monaco, secret visits to your studio in between London and Mexico, and countless moments when you had to play it cool in public, even as your heart raced every time you saw him.

The secrecy was worth it, though. For three years, you built a world of your own, filled with laughter, late-night phone calls, and the kind of love that felt steady and enduring.

The proposal came during a quiet evening at your studio. You’d been working on a commission, hands covered in clay, when Lando appeared in the doorway, looking unusually nervous.

“What’s up?” you asked, wiping your hands on a rag.

He hesitated, then held out a small, unassuming box. “I, uh, thought we could make this official.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “Lando Norris, are you asking me to marry you in the middle of my studio while I’m covered in clay?”

He grinned, the familiar boyish charm shining through. “Well, I figured it’s where you’re happiest.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Laughing, you took the box, opened it, and saw the ring—simple, elegant, and unmistakably you. Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes.”

For a while, life went on as usual. You returned to your pottery, Lando to his racing, and your engagement remained a secret known only to close family and a few trusted friends. But secrets have a way of slipping out, and yours did during that fateful post-Silverstone dinner.

By the time Lando returned home to Monaco, the internet was ablaze. He’d soft-launched your engagement on Instagram with a series of photos: your clay-covered hands holding the ring, more of you holding your ring in defeat after possibly losing it, and a final shot of the infamous ‘Lan ♥’ signature on one of your vases.

The caption read: ladies and gents, the chronicles of my fiancée losing her ring. she says that my forgetfulness is rubbing off on her apparently but she sadly chose to say yes to me 😌.

The response was overwhelming. Fans went wild over the reveal, speculating about your relationship timeline and falling in love with the wholesome chaos of it all.

Despite the initial embarrassment, Lando wouldn’t change a thing. Sure, Charles might never let him live it down, and Daniel would probably bring up the ‘wet clay incident’ at every opportunity, but none of it mattered.

As he watched you work on your latest piece, the soft hum of music filling the studio, he felt a sense of peace he rarely found anywhere else. You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring, and flashed him a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Back to work, Mr. Norris,” you teased, pointing at the pottery wheel.

He grinned, sliding into the seat beside you. “Yes, ma’am.”

If this was what forever looked like, Lando was more than ready for it.

Because in the end, every gummy bear, every secret, and every chaotic dinner had been worth it.

i hope you guys liked it 🥹 tbh, this was originally a gift for my friend to motivate her but now she wants to actually marry him… i take no part in that declaration.

also, this y’all man 🤨☝🏻 damn, he’s okay, i guess.

i’m still very new here, so, there’s some things i absolutely know nothing about… BUT, i’ll get through it ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-!! i love y’all, strangers ‘round the internet 💌 MWAH!

[auirlss]

shitty arcane doodles

last image is a modern! au where instead of going through the arcane jayce, ekko, and heimerdinger smoke a joint

[bronchy]

oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

[commonautisticartist]

All right let me just surrender my hands in defeat.

ever since I was a young lad I knew I wanted to be a middle-aged man with an undone tie around his neck who’s having a crisis so he goes to the bathroom to splash water on his face only to look up at himself in the mirror and wonder at the stranger looking back

[maya-drawsdragons]

OUGHHHHHH I WANNA DRAW SO BAD BUT I HAVE WORK TO DO for now you guys get aventurine drawing from a couple of months ago

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Guess who just finished their WIP?

[haifaaziz98]

I am consumed by fear that my mother might die in Gaza while I am far away, unable to help her. The thought of her suffering alone in such a dangerous place breaks my heart. I feel so helpless and terrified, knowing I can't be there to protect her or bring her to safety. Every day is filled with anxiety and dread, as I hope and pray for her survival amidst the chaos.

[help-alaa-children]

Our Story

Verified by @el-shab-hussein 🙏🏻

Please don't skip 🙏🏻🚨🚨

Hello my friends it is me Alaa an engineer from gaza , it is 1:00 am now and it have passed 👇🏻🚨

300 days That means 3600 hours That means 12,960,000 seconds From death, hunger, humiliation, cold, hot, disease and disgust 😭😭

I was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and a successful engineer. I had my own home and work, and I lived in love and warmth with my family.❤️❤️

But in one moment, everything was destroyed, and I lost my home and my job, and my family lost their home and their work, and we fled with one bag to escape the bombing and death 😭💔

We have lived a very difficult life, with no clean water to drink, no food for the children, no gas, and no shelter.

My mother suffers from cramps in her limbs, which got worse during the war due to the harsh living conditions, and she needs immediate treatment 🥹

After 7 months of this hard, horrible and continues war i was able to escape with my children, but my family which consists of 6 people, 2 of them are elderly my mum and dad they need to have medication still at gaza under war 😭

Please reblug this post and donate if you can 🙏🏻

Please share 🙏🏻 @palipunk @nabulsi @northgazaupdates2 @sayruq

[abuadam86]

Emergency: Help save my children's lives

Dear humanity,

I am Habib from Gaza. I am married and have four children: Menna, 12 years old, Adam, 10 years old (suffering from quadriplegia), Maria, 6 years old, and Ezz, one year old. Although they are young, they have survived previous wars, but this current war is the most difficult of all. This is a war of genocide, and the difficulty of the war lies in the inability to meet the needs of my son Adam, who needs special care.

Over the past ten months, we have been caught in the crossfire of the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Our once peaceful home in Khan Yunis has been reduced to rubble, and now we find ourselves displaced in Deir al-Balah, living in squalid conditions in a makeshift tent on the streets. The devastation not only deprived us of our physical shelter, but also destroyed my livelihood - the once thriving business that supported our family's well-being, is now in ruins. The daily struggle for survival is exacerbated by the scarcity of basic necessities such as clean water, adequate sanitation and basic medical supplies

Our home was the place where we found hope and safety, and where we made precious memories. Losing him was like losing years of our lives.

Not only that, they destroyed my source of livelihood, burned it, and demolished it with bulldozers, and today I am without a home and without a job. I was working in a store I owned that met the needs and expenses of my family

Living in tents is miserable. There is a lack of drinking water, hot sun rays, and strange insects that have terrified my children. What hurts me most is my young son Ezz, who I see growing up in an unclean environment and with no healthy food for him. I believe he has not received his right to life.

At this stage, my husband and I decided to go to you and create an account on the Go Fund Me website and ask you to help us in these difficult times until we get out of Gaza, from the land of war to the land of peace. All we need from you is to support us and help us to get out of the war, even if you cannot help. You should spread the word. This campaign is everywhere and among your friends. We thank you for your stance and support for us. Thank you, my friends

The amount that will be collected from this campaign :

We will spend it by paying the amount to coordinate entry through the Rafah land crossing, which connects Gaza to the State of Egypt, since, as I mentioned, they charge an adult $5,000, but depending on the pressures, crises, and waiting, the amount may reach $7,000 per person, and children $2,500 to $4,000.

We will also use it for the rest of the travel and safe transportation expenses to provide for all family members.

A picture of my children's life before the war

A video of my children's lives living the war

May God reward you with all the best and may God bless you

Best wishes with sincere gratitude,

Habib's family

My Instagram account link

My account vetted by:

@dlxxv-vetted-donations

(vetted)

@gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #187 )

[micewithknives]

I let myself rest and now I'm daydreaming about academia and academic research and writing again

[karemandohan1999]

🙏😔Stop, please 😔🙏

Don't ignore me, listen to our sad story💔🥹🍉

My name is Kariman Dohan, I am 25 years old. I was a committed and diligent teacher, and my husband, Ayman Olwan, 30 years old, is a business administration graduate, but due to unemployment and difficult conditions in Gaza, he was forced to work as a fisherman. We have a wonderful son named Hamoud, who is one and a half years old. We live in Gaza, specifically Khan Yunis, where the fishing boat, fishing equipment and the school where I worked were damaged🥹🫂💔😭😭😭😭

We have been displaced several times, and our tragedy has reached the point that we now live in a tent that is unfit for living. We desperately need your help, I have launched a donation campaign but I cannot get the funds so I can get $50000 to get through this current crisis.

15.000$********75.000$

Before the war and after the war, this is what happened to us😔💔

................

I know that the world is full of people who want to help others, and you are one of them. Please be with us in this ordeal and share your donation to help us get out of these difficult situations🫂🥹🥹🙏🙏🍉

Donate, share and be the reason for our happiness 🙏❤️🫂🥹🍉😭🇵🇸💔😣