the-speyeral

[the-speyeral]

being michael stole the only purpose i have ever known

[the-speyeral]

i am the observer, im a witness of life

[the-speyeral]

i am the observer, im a witness of life

[the-speyeral]

i took the crown from where it fell

[the-speyeral]

made individual ones

how bugs look when you lift up a rock

[the-speyeral]

how bugs look when you lift up a rock

[the-speyeral]

drew this for art class

closeups under the cut

[the-speyeral]

i believe you like a god

[the-speyeral]

Reblog if you want one of these in your ask box:

•A compliment

•A story

•Why you follow me

•A cute message

•One thing you want to tell me

•One thing you want to know about me

[the-speyeral]

Hi dear you should take a look here 🍉

My name is Marah, and I am writing to you with a heart full of sadness and pain and a glimmer of hope that someone will stand by us in these difficult times. The cursed war has destroyed everything we possess. We have lost our homeland, our dreams, even the most basic right to live in dignity. We are now living in tents on the streets without real shelter, adequate food, or medicine. Every day is a battle just for survival

I am communicating with you, hoping that your kind hearts will help us achieve our goal of education. This amount will allow us to rebuild our lives after everything we have lost and provide the basic necessities of our lives such as shelter, food, and medical care. Your donation, no matter how small, will have a profound impact on our lives

I ask you to be the light in the darkness we live in and help us rise from the rubble of war to live again

Thank you for every bit of support, every kind word, and every noble heart that contributes to helping us

Verified by @bilal-salah0

[the-speyeral]

Hello 👋

Please take a moment to read my story.

I am Heba Al-Dahdouh. I currently live in the completely destroyed city of Gaza. Since the war on Gaza began on 7/1/2024, my family—my father Nasif, my mother Asmaa, and my siblings Khaled, Ahmad, Muhammad, and Malak—have been living in constant fear, crying, and suffering due to shrapnel, shells, and bullets.

We have no food, no electricity, no cooking gas, no schools, no homes, no cleaning supplies, and no clothes. Our house was completely destroyed. My school has been bombed, and my brother Khaled's university is now rubble, depriving us all of education. The war has forced us to live in displacement centers, which are just tents unsuitable for living, especially in winter.

Every day we live death, terror, and panic a thousand times because of the ongoing bombardment of my city. The war has killed more than 50 of my relatives and neighbors. At the start of the war, we sought refuge at my aunt's house, but it too became rubble. Imagine: we have survived imminent death more than 20 times and have been displaced among shelters more than 13 times. My siblings and I have suffered from many illnesses due to malnutrition, and we need medication continuously.

If we stay in Gaza, we might lose our lives. Recently, we have been seriously considering leaving Gaza for a safe place. However, travel costs are extremely high. We need over $50,000 to leave Gaza. Due to exorbitant prices, rampant unemployment, lack of security, the ongoing siege, and relentless bombardment, we have lost all our money. How can we live in such insecurity, with constant shelling and shrapnel flying above us? Dear compassionate friends around the world,

With your generous donations, even if small, you can save 7 people from imminent death, allowing us to start a life outside Gaza filled with love, peace, and hope.

With my warmest regards from the city of Gaza,

Heba Al-Dahdouh.

[the-speyeral]

Hello dear friends!

❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support you are giving to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive. ✌✌

❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸

We collect such donations to provide the minimum basic needs of life and help find safety and peace for young children who do not deserve to live in such horrific situations. Thanks to your contribution, my family is slowly approaching 1/2 of the way to reach the goal. Every form of your help makes a difference to the free people who have been struggling and paying so much for almost 305 hard days

❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸

Please continue to support the most just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/e7c7528a

[the-speyeral]

so

[the-speyeral]

Can anybody who’s able to donate please donate to @ahmedgaza27 ‘s gofundme, the account is verified

[the-speyeral]

fiddauthor drabble or smth

tw for implied homophobia and a panic attack from it (happy ending though)

Ford’s heart was racing. He couldn’t breathe and his vision was tunnelling. Where was he again? What was going on? He touched his hands to his face and felt that it was wet. Was he crying?

He slid town to the floor, keeping his head facing down, fingers gripping it.

Why had he thought attending a party would be a good idea? He was out of his element and he had known that before accepting Fiddleford’s invitation. 

Distantly, he heard a knock at the door and what sounded like someone talking, but he couldn’t make out the words.

He needed to breathe; ground himself. What was that exercise again? Five… five what? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t calm down. His head was spinning more now.

Breathe.

Just breathe, Ford.

Suddenly there was something on his hand and he jumped in surprise, eyes wide. There was someone in front of him.

“Ford? You okay hon? It’s Fiddleford. You’re okay,” he placed his hand back on Ford’s and gently removed them from his friend’s hair.

“I- I- I don-”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Fiddleford embraced Ford, gently rubbing his back, “It’s okay. We’ll get you out of here. Don’ really want to be hanging with this crowd after that anyways.”

They sat like that until Ford’s tears stopped and his breathing properly steadied.

Ford was able to look around now. They were in a washroom, and he noted that Fiddleford had locked the door. He was grateful.

He remembered why he ran here in the first place. His heart sank.

He had kissed someone. He had kissed a man. He was still drunk, and the room had been dark, so the details were all fuzzy. Who would he have-

“Fordsy? Are you back with us?”

“I… Yeah. Just… I don’t want to go back out there, Fidds. I- I can’t.”

Fiddleford nodded in understanding, “Me neither,” he scanned the room quickly before his eyes landed on-, “That window’s pretty big. You reckon you can fit?”

Ford smiled, still sniffling when the pair pulled apart, “Definitely.”

~~~

They ended up in a field, sitting in the back of Fiddleford’s truck and staring up at the stars. This was one of Ford’s favourite places. It was peaceful and secluded, even if they were technically trespassing.

“So… you wanna talk about what happened?” Fiddleford asked carefully.

“It was just- it was a stupid heat-of-the-moment thing, Fidds. I was too drunk to… I didn’t think about where I was; who was around. I’m… I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

A moment of silence passed before Fiddleford responded, “Oh, Ford… You didn���t ruin anything, and hey, I’m also to blame, you know. If I had known they were-”

“Fidds, stop. You didn’t even know I like- you didn’t even know I was gay. You didn’t know they would respond like that. None of this was your fault.”

“I did… I did kiss you back, though.”

Ford’s heart sped up, “What?”

“Look, I- I know- the both of us were wasted – still kinda’ are – but I know we- I know- sorry. I just… am I readin’ too much into it? Ford do you- Does this… does this change anything? Ae we still… us?”

It was then that Ford smiled, rubbing a hand down his face before placing it in Fiddleford’s.

“Yeah, Fidds. We’re still us."

[the-speyeral]

college fiddauthor

[the-speyeral]

every time someone draws fiddleford mcgucket with a small nose an angel loses its wings