#Zain if you see this

[teabutmakeitazure]

last ask and sorry for bothering you but, there is this stupid idea : chrollo having the hots for a brown darling. knowing how messed up pakistan/india's dating and marriage system is, he cant even be her boyfriend without her having massive issues lol. its not just that darling doesn't want to date him, its that her parents will kill her if they find out. its straight up kidnapping lol. i cant imagine him trying to act as a religious, pious and well meaning suitor that's too cringe.

dont get me started on "the only man you may reveal yourself to is your husband" asshole gonna use it to his advatage.

There is no way he is walking through the door and telling your parents that his second name is Lucilfer. But that's not even the problem. The problem is how in the name of all things holy did you come to know a man. A male specimen out of all the unholy things in this land and let him into your house to meet your parents.

If the excessive interrogating wasn't enough, the taunts that you're outside and being friends with men like it's no big deal are enough to warrant a month full of therapy to undo the damage to your psyche.

The arranged marriage culture would honestly baffle him. Chrollo doesn't understand why people would weigh such superficial and shallow traits so heavily when searching for a partner. It certainly doesn't sit right with him either when he's rejected by your parents for not being as cultural as them. He has money and he cares for you. Isn't that what's supposed to matter?

Chrollo doesn't see the point in keeping up such exhaustive appearances of being religious, pious and adhering to cultural values so he takes the easy route: making you disappear. Despite his initial dislike of what he called restrictive values, he has no problems with using them against you. It's true that you're only supposed to reveal yourself without hesitation to your husband, and he's the only man- er, human - left in your life. Isn't that a wonderful coincidence?

[dreamertrilogys]

quick assign me a (nick)name based on vibes

[cyberlifeangel]

okay so I don't know if anyone's watching the world cup but the us and england are playing against each other right now and i was just thinking about how jason and zain would probably be watching this xD i imagine jason's dressed all patriotic and stuff while zain's rooting for england and then there's salim in the back just laughing his ass off about them arguing who will win and whether it's called football or soccer😭😭

can anyone PLEASE draw this now i need to see this😭😭

[darling-zain]

Zain I think im going blind I can barely see anything anymore :7 I'm scared hold me :(

cmere i'll hold you for as long as you need <3

but tbh same like whenever i stand up my entire vision goes black and i have to take a second for it to go back to normal

low iron gang wya 🗣️🗣️

[asongofashandarrows]

Ryan, this isn't even the first time they've joined forces in AI art this week

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Evacuating Families with Children 1

Vetted Palestinian Campaigns. Please donate if you can and share!

Aug 25 - Sep 1. Updated Sep 2. I am no longer focusing on promoting/updating this list, but I encourage you to share and donate. Thanks for everyone's contributions!!!

My other promotions

All these families are trying to evacuate at least 1 child under the age of 12. They live in tents that provide inadequate shelter and are constantly exposed to disease. Children are growing up in an unhealthy environment where they suffer greatly from malnutrition, skin conditions, and psychological challenges with which there are no resources to treat.

Far from goal: Ahmed Omer: @ahmedomer9 (@aya2mohammed's brother). Donations slow

Paypal, credit/debit: € 1,394 1,902 / 55,000

Mohammed Alhabil: @mohammedalhabil2000 (#157 on spreadsheet), @nohaalhabil23, @abeeribrahim2006 , and @ibtisam10 confirmed family here. Daughter Nour suffers from congenital heart disease and is immunocompromised. Stagnating!

Credit/debit: CAD $ 14,480 15,190 / 70,000

Small goal: Ahmad and Eman: @loleta-2021, @leen-gaza, @children-gaza, @zain-leen1993 (vet). Stagnating!

PayPal, credit/debit: € 6,914 7,416 / 15,000

See post: Give the Al-Habil family a better life. Donations slow

PayPal, credit/debit: € 11,015 11,854 / 25,000

Samer Abu Ras: @samerpal (#196 on spreadsheet). Stagnating!

Credit/debit: SEK 125,394 132,967 / 450,000 Note: $10 USD = 105 SEK

Small goal: Aya: @ayaalanqarsblog, @ayanimer1995, @ayaanqarsblog (vet).

PayPal, credit/debit: € 9,809 10,642 / 15,000

Pinned Campaigns

See post: Let's evacuate the Haboub family's most vulnerable members in September. Stagnating!

Credit/debit: SEK 99,313 137,090 / 130,000 234,000 $10 USD = 105 SEK

See post: The Alanqar Family's campaign is almost at its goal. Don't let it stagnate!

Paypal, credit/debit: € 57,760 59,119 / 60,000

[xo-zozo]

i swear to god if i see any of you hating on zain iqbal as ravi singh i wall personally hunt you down, sorry you can’t handle a poc character with poc features or that he dosent look like your pinterest fc

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg I loved the cellmate reader! But imagine if reader broke Sevika outta jail. Like she’s all cool about and when she walks up to Sevikas cell she’s got her hair up in her hat and sevika can’t see who she is until she tilts her head up grinning at her wife.

Sevika is so shocked to see her housewife breaking her outta jail like. The whole way back to Zain Sevika can’t keep her hands to herself, thanking her wife over and over and saying how much she’s gonna reward her for saving her *wink wink*

LOVE

men and minors dni

"this just feels wrong." you mutter as you check yourself out in the mirror. ran chuckles beside you, tugging their skirt farther down their waist.

"fuckin' tell me about it." they grumble.

they look ridiculous. their bangs are pinned back, their eyes have been washed clean of eyeliner-- they really do look like a cop. "the things i do for her." you grumble. ran giggles again.

"wasn't this in your vows? 'for better or worse, in sickness and health, i vow to love you and break you outta prison if you need?'" they tease. you giggle.

"close enough."

you're both dressed as enforcers-- the uniforms are authentic-- stolen from some dead cops.

four years after you first landed yourself in stillwater-- you're going back. this time, you aren't a prisioner, though. and, despite your current outfit, you haven't gotten a new job as a prison guard.

you're going back for sevika.

she took the charges for silco when he got caught up in piltover, and as a result, she's currently in maximum security.

it's been four months since you've seen your wife. and despite the fact that you keep your nose strictly out of silco and sevika's business-- these past four months you've been at the last drop every single night, studying stillwater blue prints and plotting with ran and silco and lock.

it all passes in a blur for you. you're so nervous, and so excited to see your girl, that you don't register much as you make your way to stillwater.

ran does most of the talking. there's not much talking to be done-- the uniforms and badges you're wearing get you in the gates surprisingly easily-- but you're too jittery to do much more than stutter. so ran does most the talking.

you keep your hand on the switchblade tucked into the waist of your enforcer skirt. sevika gifted it to you on your first real date, and she's been teaching you how to defend yourself with it ever since. you've never had to use it, mostly because everyone in the undercity knows you're sevika's, but you won't hesitate to use it now to get to her.

the familiar atmosphere of the prison is comforting, in a strange way. it's where you met sevika, where you got to know her, where you both fell for one another.

and now it's where you're going to reunite again.

the deeper underground you get, the fewer prisoners and the more guards there are. you're starting to get antsy. ran elbows you.

"relax." they grumble. you gulp.

"don't tell me to relax, it' been four fucking months since--"

"oh my god, i know." ran groans. you sigh.

"sorry. i miss her." you mumble. ran chuckles.

"not as much as she misses you." they say. you huff a bit.

despite the rough start to you and ran's friendship-- with you stabbing them the last time they were breaking sevika out of prison-- they've become a good friend of yours. especially since they're the one who's always helping you get sevika out of trouble.

they're also the one who agreed to let you come along tonight. it was meant to be ran and lock, with you as the getaway driver, but you begged to go in. you want to see her as soon as you fucking can.

and then: ran pulls you to a stop.

"prisoner." they mumble, a smile in their voice as they tap their metal fingers against the bars of a cell. your stomach bursts into butterflies when you see the signature flicker of sevika's lighter in the dark cell. you can see her smirk in the brief light, and you nearly burst into tears.

the ring of keys on ran's hip jingles as they pull them off and unlock sevika's cell. you don't hesitate to slam the door open and start sprinting into the cell.

it's the wrong move. sevika's expecting ran and lock, not ran and you: and in the dark, she assumes you're lunging at her to attack her. "wait!" ran calls after you, too late.

a crack rings out in the cell, followed by a groan: sevika socked you right in the nose. "ffffffuck, babe!" you whine, grabbing your nose.

sevika gasps in the dark. then, strong arms are hugging you and you're being pushed out into the hallway-- into the light.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" sevika cries.

"i--" she doesn't let you answer, shoving her mouth against yours as she backs you up against the concrete wall oppisite her cell.

you moan into her mouth, your nose throbbing in pain, your cunt throbbing in arousal.

her hands trail down to your ass, then sneak up your skirt to start palming your cunt. you whimper, and she growls.

ran clears their throat.

you pull your mouth away from sevika with a gasp, but she doesn't seem to have heard ran-- her mouth ducking down to start sucking hickeys on your neck. she starts grinding the palm of her hand against your wet cunt, and you gasp-- pulling her hair hard. sevika mewls.

"janna, i shoulda brought a spray bottle." ran mumbles.

"s-sev, baby, we gotta go." you whisper, your voice shaking when she sinks her teeth into your neck. she licks the indents her teeth left behind, then stands to her full height, removes her hands from your skirt.

you cuff her wrists, then hook your arm around her elbow, guiding her down the hall as ran leads the two of you.

you've got five minutes before the real guards do their rounds and stillwater goes on lockdown when they realize sevika's missing.

ran's the only one who seems to care about this time crunch. sevika keeps shoving you against walls, grabbing your tits biting your lips, fighting against her handcuffs as she tries to grip your hips.

you let her, each and every time.

a guard stops the three of you. "fuck happened to you?" he asks you, looking you over.

your skirt's rumpled, your shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and your enforcer hat's been knocked off and lost. all sevika's doing.

you cringe, suddenly nervous. ran just scoffs as the cut in to cover for you.

"the prisoner here got the jump on this rookie." ran explains. "broke the poor kid's nose." they gesture to your bleeding nose. you nod.

"fuckin' asshole." you mumble, trying to hold your smile back as you nudge sevika like you're angry.

she stumbles and giggles. it comes off as a defiant laugh in the face of authority to the guard. to you, you know she's fucking giddy.

he waves the three of you along.

the second you're in the van with sevika, she's on you.

lock starts the car and starts driving off, ran in the passenger seat laughing in glee at once again flawlessly slipping through stillwater's 'impenetrable' security system, and sevika throws herself at you in the back before you can even unlock her cuffs.

"sev!" you laugh. she's practically dry humping you, kissing any part of you she can reach. she hums.

"fuck-- you're the hottest enforcer i've ever seen." she mumbles. "i'm so fuckin' sorry about your nose, baby--" you cut her off by pressing your mouth against hers again.

"no fucking in the van." lock says.

you flip him off, before fumbling for the key to sevika's handcuffs.

the second one of her hands is free, she doesn't bother letting you free the other. she just lets the cuffs dangle off her mech wrist like a tacky bracelet, as she wraps her arms around you pulling you impossibly closer to her.

"i missed you so fucking much." you whimper, on the verge of tears.

sevika smells like shit. she probably hasn't showered in a week. in solitary, you don't even get a mattress-- just two blankets to lay on the ground. she's sore and grimy and she's been sitting in a dark room for weeks on end-- you planned for your first time together again to be after soaking her in a long, fragrant bath, given her at least an hour long massage, and gotten her in your freshly made bed.

it seems like that might have to be your second time.

sevika's between your legs-- both of which are hooked over her waist-- your skirt is around your waist and your hands are tugging her pants down as she grinds pathetic circles against your cunt.

"oh, fuck, i missed you too." she whines. "i love you so fuckin' much, i'm gonna put a fuckin baby in you, i missed your cunt so mu--"

"woah!" ran cries. "please! we're two minutes away from the last dro--"

"take me home." sevika growls.

ran scoffs-- "sevika, silco wants to see--"

"i'll see 'im tomorrow. or he can come over in a few hours. take me the fuck home." she demands. you giggle, using her distraction to uncuff her other wrist.

she smiles down at you when lock starts the van in the direction of your shared home.

the two of you stumble out in front of your home a minute later, lock screaming something about silco coming over in a bit behind the two of you.

neither of you notice.

you stumble into your home, attached at the lips. sevika's hands are flying up and down your body, groping your ass, thighs, hips, tits, all in quick succession. she growls as you guide her to the bedroom. "been thinkin' about you every fuckin' second since they locked me up." she mumbles. you whimper. "prison's no fun without you there."

you chuckle against her lips, stripping her of her prison uniform. you're gonna burn the clothes the second you're done with her.

you push her down-- she spreads out starfished and naked on the bed, groaning as she relaxes against the mattress.

"fuck." she moans.

you smile down at her, straddling her waist and stroking her cheek. she nuzzles against your palm.

"i missed you so much." you whisper. "i love you so much. you're the most precious thing in the world, baby."

sevika whimpers, and then, before you know what's happening, she's flipping you and pinning you beneath her.

she starts grinding against you again, but this time, both of you are naked. you groan as your cunts slide together and sevika whimpers, burying her face in your neck as she cries and fucks you.

you don't mention the tears soaking your neck. you just wrap yourself around your wife, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach as she fucks you.

"you're okay baby." you whisper, scratching against her scalp. "you're okay. 'm right here, 'm not goin' anywhere. i'll always come 'n find you sev, y' can't get rid of me that easy." you promise her.

she whimpers. "'m gonna cum."

you shiver at her words-- fuck you've missed her.

"fuck, fuck, please, sev, please, i've missed you, i've missed you, honey." you whisper. "i wanna make you feel good-- wanna make you cum-- you waited so fuckin' long all alone and--"

"but you're here now." she whispers. you moan, cumming at the reminder, and the sight of it pushes her over the edge. "baby fuck!" she cries, burying her face against your neck as she cums.

you're both shaking and crying, panting for air, soaked in sweat and cum, and laughing.

"shit." sevika sighs, nuzzling against you. you hum. "think i jerked off, like, a billion times imagining that." she mumbles. you burst into laughter. "nowhere near as good as the real fuckin' thing though." she sighs.

you kiss the goofy smile off her face. "wish i coulda snuck you some nudies or somethin'." you mumble. she snorts.

"nearly came in my pants when i realized it was you showin' off your legs in that slutty uniform."

"after you nearly shit in your pants when you realized it was me you just punched?" you ask. sevika giggles, gently kissing your swollen nose.

"simultaneously, actually. weirdest sensation of my life." she jokes. you burst into laughter.

"i love you!" you giggle. she smiles.

"i love you too."

"if you get off of me i'll draw you a bath." you offer.

"do i smell that bad?"

"yes."

she bites your shoulder and you squeak. "will you join me?"

"yes." you say.

you can feel her smile against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna marry you all over again." she mumbles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[pierogish]

A list of Palestinian families that have contacted me. I will be happy if you donate even the smallest amount to one of these 💚

UPDATED SEPT. 7th 2024: New gofundme fundraisers from my askbox:

@majedgaza1 - Majed's family, $4,078/70,000. (vetted) Majed's family of five fled to Egypt and now they need money to build a new life and for two sons and daughter to continue their education.

@rewaa04 - Rewaa's family, $595/50,000. (not vetted, research makes me trust it's legitimate.) Rewaa Omari and her four children, one of them newborn, need food and medication.

@sakerhelles - Saker's family, €10/30,000. (not vetted, research makes me trust it's legitimate. They also shared documents of all four children.) Saker Helles with his wife and four children, need aid.

@yasermohammad - Mohammed's family, €21,280/35,000. (vetted) Roba Ayyad organizes a fundraiser to help her uncle Mohammed and his five children.

@hillesmahmoud - Mahmoud's family, €25,009/37,000. (vetted) Mahmoud Hilles is a father of four children. They are in Gaza with their mother, separated from him.

@basel1995s - Basel's family, CHF8,098/60,000 (vetted) Basel Ayyad's family of eight needs aid. One child is chronically ill.

@familyetaf1234567 - Etaf's family, €1,582/50,000 (not vetted, research makes me trust it's legitimate.) Etaf Al-Qataa is a wife and mother of five children, with whole family of 7 members.

@jawad236 - Fayrouz's family, $1,335/30,000 (verified by BFEP project, n. 655) Jawad, his wife Fayrouz, their too children Mohammed and Ahmed.

_______________________________

I'm glad to see that campaigns below have been getting donations too! We have achieved a lot, while most donations are just 5 to 20 dollars. You can't and don't have to help everyone; don't let the big numbers frustrate you. You are not alone - we can do our best and keep going together!

@amira-world - Amira and her family, €29,366/29,000. (vetted) Amira, who didn't get to finish her master's degree, takes care after her mother, sister Noor, brother Abdulrahman, after her father has passed away.

@4-zien-yousef - Youssef's family, €15,531/23,000. (vetted) Youssef Helles is separated from his wife and five children, with youngest son Zain who he hasn't even met yet.

@noor-family - Nour's family, €21,719/40,000 (vetted) Nour Alanqar and her husband Ashraf Ismajl, who is injured, with their three children Rajaa, Hussein and newborn Youssef.

@ahmedhelllis - Ahmed's family, €14,695/80,000 (vetted) Ahmed Halas has a family of 20 with many small children, his father Fathi is ill and needs medical care, and son Mahmoud suffers from back and cartilage pain.

@ashraf-baker5 - Ashraf's family, €21,600/25,000 (vetted) Ashraf Alanqar and his family - his wife Widad Issa and their little son Bakr, who is suffering from malnutrition.

@joyfulpeacepolice Zaqout family, only $420/155,000 (I and other people did research and I am sure it's legitimate) Leila Zaqout with family of eight - parents, siblings and grandparents. She suffers from hepatitis A due to lack of clean water.

@alaakh99 Alaa's family, €9,317/100,000 (vetted) Alaa Amsse is a mother of three: Maria, Hamza and a newbown child, all suffer from deseases that spread easily in a camp.

@emanzaqout3 Zaqout family, $25,092/40,000 (vetted) Medical field worker and a scientific researcher Eman Zaqout with her husband Mahmoud, their son Rakab and daughter Seba. Eman's dream is to pursue her PhD study in Malaysia.

[boobo13cambridge]

A Mother's Remedy | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: none just Papa Kylian fussing over his “perfect hattrick”

Summary: You fall asleep on Kylian after spending the whole day taking care of the triplets who had the flu.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been trying to get all my previous requests done. I hope you guys like this one, it was way too cute to write. My requests are open again if you guys want to send me more. As always, please leave me feedback and don’t forget to reblog. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

The room was filled with a soft glow, courtesy of the bedside lamp casting its warm light upon the scene. The day's exhaustion had finally caught up to you as you lay nestled in the comfort of Kylian's arms, your head resting against his broad chest. It had been a long and arduous day, one that tested your strength and patience as you cared for your three precious children who were struck down by the flu.

The abrupt shift in weather proved overwhelming for your spirited young boys, whose boundless energy knew no bounds. They loved playing football outside in your backyard, and wouldn't miss a match at the Santiago Bernabeu if they could help it. Watching their father play was their greatest joy, and you couldn't help but fall in love each time seeing your precious four-year-olds donning their father's jersey proudly, their voices joining in unison with the fervent chants reverberating throughout the stadium. Ali, being the eldest among the trio, would often lead his younger brothers, Zain and Ilyas, in a rendition of the French national anthem before playing their ‘friendlies’, as he liked to call them, in the yard. Kylian found it absolutely adorable, officially dubbing them his ‘favourite hat trick’.

Kylian's fingers gently caressed your hair, soothing away the remnants of stress that clung to your tired mind. His touch was a balm to your weary soul, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquillity. The rise and fall of his chest against your cheek served as a rhythmic lullaby, coaxing you slowly to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered closed, the image of your children flashed across your mind. Their little faces flushed with fever, their once lively eyes dimmed by illness. My poor babies, you thought as you snuggled closer to your husband. You had spent the entire day tending to their every need, feeding them medicine, wiping away tears, and comforting them through the long hours of discomfort. 

A few hours earlier…

As the sun cast its golden rays across the room, you woke up with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Stretching lazily, you slowly tried to get out of your husband’s embrace, the latter’s arms tightening his hold not wanting to let you go.

"Bébé, stay just a few more minutes," he murmured softly, nestling deeper into the curve of your neck. Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned towards him, placing a tender kiss on his nose and gently caressing his cheek.

"Kyky, I have to go wake up the triplets and get them ready for school," you explained, a fond smile gracing your lips.

"Mmmhhh, d'accord. But give me a kiss first," he playfully whined, his lips puckering in an adorable pout. Shaking your head affectionately at his antics, you indulged his request, pressing a chaste kiss on his waiting lips, before deftly extricating yourself from his embrace and making your way towards the room where your precious cubs slept.

The triplets' room was conveniently situated just across the hall from your own, one of the many reasons you both decided on this house after Kylian signed with Real Madrid. As you opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in, the sound of faint whimpering halted your movements. 

Alarm surged through your veins as you rushed towards the beds, the scene that greeted you shattered your heart into a million pieces. Lying in their beds, your little ones were flushed and perspiring, their small bodies consumed by fever. The sight of their usually bright and energetic faces now pale and tormented sent a wave of panic coursing through your veins.

Laying your hand on their sweaty foreheads, you felt how warm they were.

“Maman…” whimpered Ilyas the youngest of trio, slowly opening his eyes, “Je me sens pas bien.”

“Oh, mon pauvre petit chou. Maman’s here now,” you said, gently caressing his face. 

As you continued to caress Ilyas's flushed face, offering him reassurance and comfort, the other two boys, Zain and Ali, began to stir from their sleep. Their delicate brows furrowed in response to the discomfort that plagued them, their faces contorted in the grip of illness. The sight was a poignant reminder of their vulnerability, igniting a fierce determination within you to ease their suffering. 

With a heavy sigh, you braced yourself for the demanding day that lay ahead. Gathering your strength and summoning the resilience that only a mother possesses, you whispered soothing words to Ilyas, gently coaxing him to rest as you hear the distinct sound of Kylian’s footsteps approaching.

"Ils sont où mes petits footballeurs?" your husband boomed, entering the room with a wide smile that quickly faded upon witnessing the state of his babies. His expression transformed into one of deep concern, etching lines of worry across his handsome face. "Mon dieu, what happened?"

"They have a fever, Ky. They're burning up real bad," you replied, your voice laced with concern as you watched Kylian's eyes flicker with worry.

"Papa... Arrête de parler si fort, t’es pas un haut-parleur là," Zain weakly croaked, his voice barely audible, but still managing to convey his cheeky spirit, even in the midst of illness.

Kylian, ever the doting father, couldn't help but chuckle softly at Zain's response. "Roh là là, regarde le tit gamin," he remarked affectionately, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Even while sick, he'll give his dad cheek, eh?"

Moving softly across the room, Kylian approached Zain's bed, his presence exuding a comforting warmth. His large hand gently rested upon Zain's fevered forehead, the contrast between his cool touch and the heat radiating from the young boy's skin sending a shiver of concern down his father's spine. Soft words of comfort and reassurance spilled from Kylian's lips, offering solace and a father's unwavering love.

After giving Ilyas a soft kiss on his cheek, you stood up, knowing you needed to make some food for your little ones and help them regain their strength. Your heart ached at the sight of Ali, still sleeping restlessly in his bed. You quickly made your way to his side, gently brushing his dark tousled hair away from his forehead, and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

"Ky, can you stay with them? Get them a wet towel for their foreheads. I'll make them some porridge and give them their medicine," you suggested, softly running your hand through your oldest’s hair.

"Sure, mon amour. You go ahead, I'll take care of them," Kylian reassured you, his voice filled with tenderness. With a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you left the room, your mind racing with the urgency to prepare a comforting meal for your hungry little ones.

In the kitchen, you swiftly gathered the necessary ingredients, your hands moving with practised efficiency. As the porridge simmered, you took a moment to grab your phone and dial your mother's number.

With years of experience as a mother herself, she was a source of guidance and wisdom in times like these. You explained the situation and sought her advice on caring for your sick cubs, soaking in her comforting words and practical tips.

On the other end of the line, your mother's voice greeted you with warmth and concern. "Hello, my dear. What's going on? You sound worried."

"Hi, Mom," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. "The triplets are down with a high fever, and I'm not sure what to do. They're feeling really miserable."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry to hear that," your mother empathized. "First, make sure they stay hydrated. Offer them small sips of water frequently. And if they have any appetite, light, easily digestible foods like porridge would be good."

You nodded, taking mental notes. "Yes, I'm making them porridge now. It's almost ready."

"That's a good choice, my dear. Warm and comforting. It will help soothe their throats too," your mother advised. "And don't forget to give them their medicine. Keep a close eye on their temperature and monitor their symptoms. If things worsen or if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call their paediatrician."

"I will, Mom. Thank you so much for your guidance," you expressed your gratitude, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

"You're welcome, my love. Remember, you're a wonderful mother, and you'll get through this. Trust your instincts and remember the best remedy is a mother’s love," your mother encouraged.

As you hung up the phone, you turned off the stove and took a moment to collect yourself. The conversation with your mother had given you a boost of confidence, reminding you of the strength and resilience within you.

Carrying the tray of steaming porridge and Tylenol back to the bedroom, you found Kylian gently coaxing Ali to wake up from his restless slumber. Your heart ached as you saw the worry etched on Kylian's face, his focus solely on their oldest, who seemed to be more affected by the fever than the others.

"Ali, mon petit lion," Kylian murmured softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "Wake up, Maman is bringing some food. It will make you feel better, je te promets, mon coeur,"

Placing the tray on the table near Ali’s bed, you placed a hand on Ali's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His eyelashes fluttered, and his drowsy eyes slowly opened, revealing a mixture of confusion and discomfort. His weak voice quivered as he tried to speak.

"Mama... Papa," Ali croaked, his voice barely audible.

"We're here, mon amour," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "You're going to be okay. Just take your time and try to eat a little. It will help you get better."

With Kylian's support, you lifted Ali into a sitting position, propping pillows behind him to provide comfort. The fragrant aroma of the porridge filled the room, its warmth wrapping around Ali like a healing embrace. Kylian scooped a spoonful and blew on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Ali.

"Open wide, Ali," Kylian encouraged, his voice laced with both concern and determination. "Just a little bite. It will give you strength."

Ali hesitated for a moment, his tired eyes meeting yours and Kylian's. The love and support shining in your gazes seemed to embolden him. With a deep breath, he parted his lips, allowing Kylian to feed him a small spoonful of porridge. The taste brought a flicker of renewed energy to his weary body, and he managed a faint smile.

"Good job, Ali," you praised him, your voice gentle. "You're doing great."

As Kylian took care of your eldest, you attended to your other two brave little boys, who patiently waited as you served them each a bowl of warm food. Zain and Ilyas were capable of eating on their own, but as the ever-doting mother, you couldn't help but worry, despite their constant reassurances that they could manage. You moved back and forth between your sons, gently wiping the sweat off their foreheads and assisting them in drinking water. Once all three boys finished their meal, you and Kylian administered fever medicine and gently coaxed them back to sleep, hoping they would recover soon.

Seeing them in such a state made you feel helpless. Usually lively boys, they now lay there, struggling with high fevers. Observing your worry, Kylian tenderly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and planting a kiss on your hair.

"Don't worry, my love. They'll be fine," he whispered softly as you sought solace by burying your head in his chest. "I can't help but worry, Ky. Especially Ali, I've never seen him like this before."

"Shh, he'll be alright," he soothed. "If you stress too much, you'll make yourself sick, and that's the last thing you want, right? The boys will be back to normal soon, my heart, okay?"

You nodded, releasing a faint sigh, as Kylian slowly closed the boys' room and led you to your shared bedroom. He was right; there was nothing more you could do but allow the fever to run its course and nurse your children back to health in the meantime. You felt grateful to have your caring husband by your side, knowing that despite being in the middle of a busy season, he always prioritized his family.

As you gently lay down, resting your head on Kylian's chest, you prayed for your family's well-being, filled with immense gratitude for your own mother, who had spent countless nights fussing over you to ensure your well-being. Your mother's words echoed in your mind, reminding you that a mother's love is the best remedy. With that thought, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, serenaded by the soothing rhythm of your lover's heartbeat.

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

That's why I've been living for 23 years to see this abomination that escaped from 2014

Okay, I'm waiting for someone to put them in a backrooms game…

Now that I have your attention:

So close…

[selamat-linting]

i'm not very good at being persuasive in english since its my second language, so i want everyone who sees this to do me a favor. stop scrolling. imagine youre seven years old and youre homeless. you have to sleep in tents, you have to be hungry all the time, you could be separated from your parents on a whim and theres nothing you or your parents can do to stop it. it seems outlandish, but thats the reality of many palestinian children. and i havent talked about the bombings yet.

the suffering exists even when you try to ignore it. the least we can do is try to alleviate their suffering. please donate to at least one family's fundraising efforts today.

right now, i hope you choose to donate to muhammad shehab and his family, or if you dont have the means, share to someone who can. shehab has a wife named hiyam, two elderly parents, and his two sons zain and yahya. here's a photo of their kids

And yes theyre verified and here is the link. Right now theyre still around 3k out of their 25k goal. Thats still very low, so please dont hesistate to donate. It only take 5 minutes of your time and 5 dollars of your money

Please follow @mohammedshehabnew2 for updates

[darling-zain]

(I'm 14) guy on bus tells me I look old enough

That's all he said???

"You look old enough"

CREEP CREEP CREEPY CREEP WHAT THE FFFUUCCKKKKKK

that's so EW

that's so GROSS

you're literally a CHILD what the FUCK

get as far away from him as you can kiddo just do not even look at him

[writtenjewels]

Zain Interferes

Baba was being really weird lately. He was generally in a good mood anyway, but it seemed like he was smiling all the time and getting these far-off looks in his eyes. It seemed to happen more often on certain days of the week. Zain could not figure it out. Finally, he decided to follow his father. To his disappointment, Baba led him to a regular coffee shop. Baba drank tea and chatted with one of the servers. The server was a man, though Zain couldn't tell much else about him.

Zain figured there must be something else going on. He observed a bit more. Baba went to the same coffee shop, sat in the same spot, and talked to the same server every visit. Zain noticed that Baba's moods were always better after visiting the coffee shop. Was the tea there really good or something?

Zain went in to see for himself. It wasn't bad, but not that much better than what they made at home. He hid in a corner booth to watch Baba's actions in the coffee shop. That was when he saw Baba really start acting weird. The almost awkward way he was with that server he always talked to didn't seem like Baba at all. He stumbled over words, and kept ordering refills that he didn't even drink. It wasn't until the server came by for the fourth time and Baba blurted out a dumb joke that Zain finally realized what was going on.

[Hey, Baba, why don't we go out into town together?] Zain suggested.

[All right,] Baba agreed. [What would you like to do?]

[Well, there's this coffee shop that I heard is pretty good...] Zain tried to make the words sound as casual as possible. He named the shop Baba kept visiting, and added, [Have you heard of it?]

[Oh.] Baba's face went red. [Yes, I think so. Are you sure that's what you want to do today?]

[Yeah, it might be fun!]

So they went to the coffee shop. Baba tried steering them away from the seat he usually took, but Zain pointed them back to it. It didn't take long for the server to come their way. The guy flashed a smile and touched his fingers to the brim of his cap.

“Looks like you got some company today, Salim,” he remarked in an American accent. Zain read the name-tag: Jason.

“Ah, yes, I do.” Zain tried not to gawk as Baba started fumbling with words. “He's my son. We're just out, um... spending the day together.”

“And you thought to treat him to our great tea selection, huh?” Jason's lip quirked up in a smile. “Then I better get the kettle on. Be back in a bit.” Baba nodded; Zain just stared.

[Baba!] he burst out the moment Jason was out of sight. [Are you kidding me?!]

[What's wrong?] Baba frowned, a little taken aback by Zain's outburst.

[Tell me you don't always do that when you talk to him!]

[Do what?] Zain sighed in exasperation. He was spared any words when Jason returned with two seaming cups of tea. Baba took his with a stammered thanks, his eyes darting briefly to Jason's face before dropping. Zain was about ready to scream.

“You'll have to tell me what you think of the tea,” Jason said to Zain. “Your dad loves it; he asks for at least four refills every time.”

“You don't say.” Zain shot a look at his father, who was busying himself with the tea. “Weird to come into a coffee shop to drink tea.”

“That's what I said!” Jason agreed, laughing. “Weird ain't a bad thing, though. 'Least, I don't think so.” His eyes darted briefly to Salim. “Anyhow, I'll leave y'all to it. Salim, you know how to signal when you want a refill.”

[Oh, my god, Baba,] Zain groaned once they were alone again.

[What?]

[It was like watching a car crash. So horrible, but I couldn't look away.] Baba stared at him in confusion. [Dont make me say it,] Zain sighed, [it's too embarrassing.]

[I really don't know what's gotten into you, Zain,] Baba said with a baffled shake of the head.

[The feeling is mutual, Baba. Or are you this flustered around all Americans?] Baba's eyes went wide. [I'm going to get him back over here,] Zain decided. [Please don't be weird.] Baba opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jason was back. “Hi,” Zain greeted. “Baba and I were talking, and I wanted to know about your accent.”

“It's Southern,” Jason told him. “I think the phrase your dad used was 'cowboy accent.'” Jason glanced over to Salim. “You're kinda quiet today,” he observed. “Am I interrupting time with your boy?”

“No, no, it's not, um...”

“I don't mind,” Zain butted in. [Should I pretend I need to use the bathroom so you can talk to him alone?] he asked his father. Baba choked on his tea.

“Shit!” Jason was by Baba's side at once, gently patting his back. “You okay?”

“Y-yes, I... it just went down the wrong pipe.”

“You sure you're good?” Jason's hand was still there, now rubbing in gentle circles. Baba looked up and caught his eye. Zain hoped neither of them realized too soon just how close they were to each other.

“I'm good, Jason,” Baba answered softly. Jason's pale face went pink and he drew away from Baba.

“I'm gonna get you a fresh cup of tea.”

[Baba,] Zain spoke up, [please do us both a favor and give that guy your number when he comes back. I don't think I can handle this much longer.]

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 6 Halcyon

(2,480ish words taking place about 20ish years before ARR...)

“Papa! The caravan’s here!”

Rashae stood at the front of their stall, leaning over the counter to see farther down the street. Beyond her, he could indeed see the first of the wagons rolling in.

“Gather your siblings and cousins,” he said. “They’ll be weary from the trade routes and we’ll do our part to lighten their load as we welcome them in.”

Rashae nodded and dashed off. Tanzel joined the other men and women of their Cooperative in leaving his store to ensure the warehouse doors were open and the stables ready to accept the chocobos and their cargo. Friends and relatives greeted one another, separated by weeks or months since they had all left Davarresh for this trade season, plying the wares around the island, with some like Tanzel’s family coming straight to the capital.

He grinned as he saw one of the wagons belonging to the Ranaz family. “Jin!” he called, catching a glimpse of his oldest friend.

Jinrahn turned, smiling broadly to return the quick hug Tanzel gave him. “Good to see you, brother!” Jinrahn said. “It’s good to be home.”

“Until we go home to Davarresh when the wind cools. How was the road?”

“Dusty and hot, as always,” Jinrahn said. “But we’re a little lighter than normal for finishing out the season.”

“That good, eh?”

“Well, I had more charming help than usual.” Jin’s smile faltered slightly, a sympathetic tinge to it that Tanzel did not understand, until he followed his friend’s gaze to the two women wrangling the Ranaz children into some semblance of order. He knew Jinrahn’s wife, but the other woman took him a moment to recognize.

“Is that Emelia?”

“It is,” Jinrahn said. “She and her children arrived just before we left the village. That never ending war the Coerthans somehow have with their dragons—imagine!—claimed her husband.”

“I thought she’d married a farmer?”

“Aye. Something about giving succor to a soldier, some hero I guess, and got caught in the conflict. Lost their house and all. So she came home finally. She can still charm the stingiest Arkasodara grandfather into buying more than he meant, too.”

Tanzel nodded. It had been a shock to everyone when Emelia Ranaz had remained in Coerthas, having fallen in love there, after scorning the attentions of every local boy and even a few girls who had looked her way as she had blossomed from Jinrahn’s skinny little sister into a lovely maiden trained in bardsong.

Well, she was still Jinrahn’s little sister, that they had by turns teased and avoided as boys. At least until she turned and saw Tanzel, taking a moment to recognize him, and then smiling, offering a small wave.

He knew too well that particular sadness swimming in her dark blue eyes, the exact sort of tension in her shoulders.

Tanzel saw the same in his mirror every day.

-

The trade season kept the Cooperative families happily busy, another successful year passing by. Tanzel was now familiar with Emelia’s son, an energetic ten year old called Zaine, playing with the other children when not performing daily chores and light work. A helper, that one, willing to lend a hand as needed.

If he kept busy enough, he wouldn’t have to dwell on his pain, Tanzel knew, from watching his own boys.

Emelia’s daughter was a helper too, but she was quiet, and rarely left her mother’s side, unless she was with the old teacher, Shovanna. Still, Aeryn seemed like a good, hard-working child, who otherwise played or read silently, only rarely joining the other children’s games. Some folks whispered about the girl not being quite right in the head—what unhindered child made such little sound?—but everything Tanzel saw showed a bright, helpful girl, sometimes frustrated by her own silence.

He recognized the hurt in her, too. He saw it in his own daughters.

It was their last night in Radz-at-Han. In the morning—late, after tonight’s merrymaking with their neighbors and those of the Cooperative who would stay through the rainy season—most of them would make the trek up the coast to their little village, and the cycle would begin anew. Tanzel was eager to return to the quiet of Davarresh, after months in the city.

He was not so eager to join in the drinking, feasting, and dancing going on in the square outside the Cooperative’s compound. He put in a brief appearance for propriety’s sake, nursing a single drink while smiling politely and speaking to a few business partners and good friends. He soon slipped away, as had been his wont for the last few years. He just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.

As he found his excuse to return to the storehouse, he saw he wasn’t the only one.

Emelia was in one of the stalls belonging to her family, leaning on a stack of chocobo feedbags. Her hands gripped the canvas, her hunched shoulders stiff. Her long, dark hair hid her face, but he heard her sniffle. He made certain his boots made noise and she straightened, quickly swiping her face before turning with her usual dazzling smile.

“Oh. Hello, Tanzel.”

He smiled in return, but didn’t bother with his own mask. “Hello, Emelia. Not feeling up to the party?”

Her smile faltered. “I...no,” she said, letting the mask drop now. “Not really.”

Tanzel nodded. “Me neither.” He pretended to think for a moment. “Come on.”

She raised a brow. “To where?”

“Somewhere we won’t have to deal with well-meaning friends and their platitudes,” he said bluntly, but gently, heading away from the entrance and the festivities outside.

After a brief moment, he heard her light step follow after him.

He paused in his family stall long enough to grab a couple small, brown bottles from under the counter, that he had not yet packed on purpose. Then he led her to the stairs, and the winding climb up past the third story, taking her hand to help her up onto the roof.

The city glittered and gleamed around them, color and lights rioting under the starry heavens. It was a sight he could never tire of, and from the way Emelia sucked in a breath, it was one she had nearly forgotten, and had not yet taken the time to reacquaint herself with since returning home.

Tanzel and Emelia sat on the edge of the roof, opposite of the party up front, looking out over the city. He popped open one of the bottles and handed it to her, then took the other for himself. Emelia wrinkled her nose as she took a swig.

“Ugh, you and Jin still have terrible taste in booze,” she said, taking another sip.

“A man’s gotta have at least one vice,” Tanzel replied.

“Your grandfather’s favorite saying,” she said. “But he had better taste for proper liquor.” Her soft smile was genuine now, recalling those happy days of their youth.

“We can blame my uncles for being poor influences. Or your uncles. I forget.”

She laughed. Not as freely as she once might have, but genuinely, and that was good enough. “Remember when Uncle Fahr convinced you and Jin that a wish-granting djinn lived in a cave in the cliffs south of Yedlihmad?”

Tanzel chuckled. “I do, and the punishment we got for investigating—and stumbling on a nest of efts instead. You’d think that’d be punishment in itself!”

“Perhaps had something to do with leading them back to town.”

“Oh, perhaps. But you weren’t exactly a saint, either, as I recall.”

“I don’t know what you could mean.”

“That incident with the silk merchant and the fish comes to mind.”

“It was a crab, and that was a perfectly formulated plan for revenge.”

“My mistake. I do have to question your definition of ‘perfectly formulated’ though.”

“My plan was fine,” Emelia insisted with an exaggerated pout. “It was the crab and my target who were uncooperative.”

Tanzel laughed. They continued talking, recalling childhood and adolescent adventures and achievements, bright days when their futures had yet seemed limitless in possibility.

“And I remember,” Emelia said, as the contents of their respective bottles were low. “At your wedding, my brothers were so—” She stopped suddenly, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? If it was about the pranks they pulled on me just before we were to give our vows, I have it on good authority you had nothing to do with that.”

“I just,” she hesitated. “I heard what happened. And I haven’t taken the time yet…”

He leaned over and bumped her shoulder—not quite like when they were children, but in a similarly familiar manner. “It’s fine. I’ve heard the words often enough. Just like you have by now.”

She peered at him, absently batting him away, as she had done when a girl and he and her brother had pestered her like that. “Doesn’t it still...Are you…”

“Yes, it hurts,” Tanzel replied quietly. He looked out over the city again. “I’m not sure it will ever stop hurting. I might have lost myself in a pile of these bottles, if not for my children.” He smiled. “Rashae’s so much like her mother. Looks like her more and more, too.”

“Zaine looks like his father,” Emelia whispered. “And they both have his eyes.”

“Blessed reminders,” Tanzel said. “At least, that’s what everyone tells me. And on good days, I agree with them.”

“And on bad ones?” She didn’t quite look at him.

“I curse the gods for such a constant cruelty. Then I continue on, trying not to feel guilty, because what else can I do?”

He saw her bite her lip and nod ever so slightly.

“Still,” Tanzel continued, finishing his drink. “It doesn’t hurt to think of our wedding—not anymore. It’s still one of the best days of my life. Then our children were born, and those were blessed times too. At least until the little monsters started keeping us up all night,” he joked.

She chuckled, and he again took it as a victory. “At least you had family with you.”

“That did help.” He frowned. “Did he not?”

She shook her head. “His mother disapproved of me. So we settled in a village where he had friends, and...we did have good neighbors, who helped.”

“Fool woman, to not know what a gem of a daughter-in-law she had,” Tanzel sniffed.

“Thought I was Jin’s bratty little sister.”

“I never said you weren’t still that, too.” He bumped her again. She smiled wanly and shook her head. “You were happy though, weren’t you, Emelia?”

Her face crumpled. “Mostly. I loved him enough to stay in that cold, colorless land—I wanted to come home for years, but he didn’t want to leave, and now...” She leaned forward, face in her hands.

Tanzel rubbed her back for a time, letting her crying, saying nothing. Eventually she calmed, taking a shaky breath, and accepting his handkerchief to wipe her eyes and nose.

“Tell me about Coerthas,” he finally said. “It can’t have been all terrible, if you stayed for so long.”

“It’s all...tangled up in memories of him.”

“Of course it is. But the good outweighs the bad, doesn’t it?” As she considered that, he continued. “That wretched moment cannot overshadow all the time proceeding it. It’s a disservice to them and the joy they brought us. The children they left with us. The only thing that comes close to helping is remembering the times we laughed and loved. That one terrible day can’t take away the rest.”

They were silent for a long while.

“It had its own beauty,” Emelia finally said, voice hushed. “More stark, the mountains swooping over the vales. In Springtime suddenly the fields would go from gray and brown to a lush green and the flowers would bloom like rainbows fallen from the sky. We’d walk along the sheep paths and deer tracks…”

He listened, as she described the idyllic life of a Coerthan farm family—not that they hadn’t known hardship, and he understood her sighing about little Aeryn going through clothes and shoes like water, his Rashae was too similar—but what began in fits and starts soon fell into familiar bardic story rhythms as she told stories until they were both laughing over her children’s antics, her neighbors’ strange foreign actions, and her happier memories of her husband.

The bells chimed thrice, startling them both. The sounds of the party up front had long since faded, though there were still a few revelers wearily talking and stumbling themselves and others to bed. Tanzel stood and stretched, offering Emelia a hand up. She took it, and continued in to give him a tight hug. He returned it, and they stood like that for a long moment.

“Thank you, Tan,” she said, still leaning on him. “I wish...I wish you didn’t understand. But I’m,” she hesitated again.

“But I do. And I’m here, when you need to talk. Or just get away from others who say things, without knowing it how we do.”

She nodded against his chest, then, with a deep exhale, stepped away. “Shovanna said she’d stay with the children, and they should all three be asleep, but I ought to check on them.”

“Mine were probably up too late and getting into mischief until their grandmothers caught them,” Tanzel said. “I’ll get an earful in the morning.”

“So you’ll do as when we were children, and you and Jin used to blame me to try to keep out of trouble.”

“Ah, you’ve caught on to my dastardly plan.”

“Next time, consult someone whose plans are perfect,” she said, affecting a haughty sniff.

“If I find someone like that, I’ll let you know,” he replied, laughing as she bapped his arm.

He helped her off the roof and into the stairwell, and they made their way down in the dark, still joking. They parted at the base, he heading to his family quarters, Emelia to her family’s. He glanced back before stepping inside. She had also stopped, and waved to him.

Tanzel returned the wave before Emelia vanished behind the door. He felt better than he had in awhile. If this pain he carried, and how he was learning to live with it, could help his childhood friend...well, it was far from worth it, but it was something useful, at least. Maybe.

He wished it hadn’t taken this sort of wretched circumstance to reunite them. To make her more than Jin’s bratty little sister, but someone who understood, and needed to be understood herself.

Tanzel shook his head, disposed of the bottles, and continued on to bed. Morning would come too soon and a lot of work with it.

He dreamed of his favorite days with his wife, and then of youthful days playfully teasing his friend’s little sister.

[sageandred]

Some Palestinian Blogs to Support (that have reached out to me)

/posts you can share, along w/GoFundMe achievements as of 09/18/24

ps) I'm not a vetter; i'm just going frm what I can tell..

Vetted:

(These aren't in order of percentage rate).

¹khaledanqar2000 (acct deleted, see gfm below)- 177/57,300 / ²abdallahblog0- 656/30,000 / ³leenakhamiss- 4,321/100,000 / ⁴d-mohammed- 4,673/100,000 / ⁵abuadam86- 17,525/500,000 / ⁶haithem-2- 8,168/200,000 / ⁷(acct deleted, but gfm is) Raneen Bakroon- 8,934/80,000 / ⁸majedgh2 (acct deleted, see gfm below)- 5,250/70,000 / ⁹hassanmadi2- 1,097/50,000 / ¹⁰mahmoudayyad- 5,797/55,000 / ¹¹yara-family- 2,105/20,000 / ¹²samarsh11- 10,092/45,000 / ¹³mahmoudjsy- 3,783/25,000 / ¹⁴mohmoud-j- 15,440/60,000 / ¹⁵severeninjan-4,048/10,000 / ¹⁶hebamater492-(has multiple campaigns & lowest funds is 938/30,000 for this linked post)

Close to Goal: ¹⁷karamalmadhoun0-17,257/20,000 / ¹⁸yasermohammad- 22,756/35,000

Unvetted:

¹⁹ahmad1988- 3,758/500,000 / ²⁰qualitycatcollector- 17/60,000 / ²¹(acct deleted, gfm is) Emtsal Malhe- 6,677/50,000 / ²²savesmahfamily- 332/50,000 / ²³abdallaalhaj- 230/50,000 / ²⁴wisammurtaja- 160/50,000 / ²⁵ibrahimmajed10- 60/50,000 / ²⁶malkhelles- 35/40,000 / ²⁷mohammednasr- 125/50,000 / ²⁸malokamohamed- 340/40,000 / ²⁹mohammednasers-blog- 5,188/38,000 / ³⁰zainsami- 560/35,000 / ³¹alaakhaled0- 189/20,000 / ³²mones1998gaza- 993/20,000 / ³³mohmad77 <CW blood >2ND most shared post -4,572/80,000 ³⁴ghadahalmadhoun- 4,212/50,000

the Go Fund Me's (in order) | Vetted: ¹Khaled Alanqer / ²MV / ³Lina Khames / ⁴Mohammed Shurrab / ⁵Naya Albozom / ⁶Mohammed Mohammed / ⁷already linked Raneen / ⁸Maged Gaza / ⁹Hassen Wajih / ¹⁰Mahmoud Ayyad / ¹¹Yara Mohammed / ¹²Hashim Friend / ¹³Renee Hassert / ¹⁴Anna Marfleet / ¹⁵Ramzy zaher Foura / ¹⁶Ashika Jaffar

Close 2 G: ¹⁷Abdulkareem Madhoun / ¹⁸Roba Ayyad

Unvetted: ¹⁹Ahmad Quandil / ²⁰Talib Hussien / ²¹already linked Emtsal / ²²Samah Hijazi / ²³Abdalla Alhaj / ²⁴Zayed Soliman / ²⁵Ibrahim Majed / ²⁶Malk Helles / ²⁷Mohammed Nasr / ²⁸Mohammed Ibraheem / ²⁹Dunia E D Habib / ³⁰Zain Sami / ³¹Alaa Khaled / ³²Mo'nes Naji / ³³Abed M / ³⁴Hind Al-madhoun

Added) Hanan Mahmoud-vetted 781/100,000 hanangaza

*Updated 09/20/24

Vetted:

shamia962 / Mohammed JH Shamia goal: 60,327/250,000

karamrafeek / Ahmed Kaddad goal: 75/7,000

fahedshehab-new / Ahmed Shamia goal: 56,114/85,000

Unvetted:

farahalhabil / Ibrahim Family goal: 440/20,000

Noura Ayman goal: 278/5,000 (org by Mohammed Almeshaal)