I'm Very Sad. I Don't Have Any Celebrity Friends To Promote My "I'm Not Okay" Campaign.

I'm very sad. I don't have any celebrity friends to promote my "I'm Not Okay" campaign.💔😓

Just a reminder 🚨

There is no one left who does not know Gaza🇵🇸💔..

and does not know what is happening there🚀😓. It is a battlefield against everything.💔

Against humans, trees, animals and stones...❤️‍🩹

Please save what is left..

We do not want to lose more...🩸🩸

Life no longer has value...

We have become strangers in our own country.😭

We are begging to live our days with fear and extreme caution...💔

We don't want any more blood.

To know my story, visit my page. ..

Thank you...🙏

Please support and share as a favor, not an order💚..

Donation link here..👇

https://gofund.me/45f50996

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #80 )and a-shade-of-blue

Vetted in the GazaVetters Spreadsheet (no. #80)

Google Docs

GazaVetters

gofundme.com

Donate to Please save me and my family and reunite me with my husband, organized by Hamada Alskafi

I am Muntaha, 25 years old, the daughter of this beautiful fa… Hamada Alskafi needs your support for Please save me and my family and reuni

€1,087 raised of €60,000 !!!

🚨 🚨🚨Hello everyone, I am from Gaza. 🇵🇸🇵🇸

My family suffered a lot, as my father was sick and could not be cured due to the war. He passed away. 😭😭After that, my family was targeted, where my brother was injured, and his feet and right hand were amputated. 🥹🥹Please support my family to survive. 🙏🙏Please take a few minutes of your time and read my story.

Donate $20 and if you can't, share the post🥰🙏

The link is https://gofund.me/363ae8ca

^^^^^

URGENT HELP 🚨

Hello, I'm Ola, a graduate student from the faculty of science - Al-Azhar University in Gaza Palestine. I truly appreciate you taking a moment to read my story. As you reading my message, myself and my family, “my mother, father, three sisters, and my little brother,” are fighting death in northern Gaza and trying to survive under all kinds of suffering including but not limited to destruction, fear, and instability, starvation, thirst, and poverty.

For nine months until now, we have been struggling to get proper food after prices increased by 15 to 20 times, struggling to have clean water for use and drinking. We lacked security and stability as we were forced to evacuate our house and left everything behind. Then we had to move at least three times.

I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. You can follow me to make sure I am not a scammer and to inquire about any details. Your generosity has the power to make a significant difference.

Please reblog my post, follow me and boost my posts, and repost the link to our campaign across all your social media.

My campaign has been vetted by @90-ghost , @northgazaupdates , @el-shab-hussein , and @nabulsi 's vetted list, line 205.

Thank you for standing by me ❤️.

Please donate and/or reblog 🥺🙏🇵🇸

gofundme.com

Donate to Ola's Family Call for your Support Amid Crisis, organized by Nesma Khazendar

Hello, I'm Ola, a graduate student from the faculty of science - Al-Azh… Nesma Khazendar needs your support for Ola's Family Call for your S

@rinnie @sweetoothgirl @sar-soor @timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe @rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @appsa @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees   @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts  @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillainarchive @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @stuckinapril @violentrevolution-blog @mavigator @lacecap  @watermotif @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @papenathys @slicedblackolives @heritagepostsbot

Hello dear friends ! ❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

All positive words can't show how generous you are, especially on the side of sharing my posts to let other donors know about the people of Gaza who are still suffering the horrible circumstances resulting from the injust war on Gaza! 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

Thank you from the deepest bottom of my heart for the support you are showing to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Despite the various colours of sufferings and tortures we are undergoing at the moment, your brave stances and support greatly ease and relieve us . Your loud voices and your heroic acts make a great difference to our Palestinian cause. 🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

We are fundraising such donations to have the least basic needs of life and to help find safety and peace for the little kids who don't deserve to lead such horrific situations.

Thanks to your contribution, my family is on its halfway to reach the goal. All forms of your help make a difference to free the people who have been struggling and paying much for almost 300 hard days. ✌✌✌🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸

Please keep supporting the fairest cause of the world either by directly donating or sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in tough and dire times till the black days end.

https://gofund.me/4eee3d76

Glad I can help, once again, I hope you and your family stay safe out there

Please share and support everyone!

gofundme.com

Donate to Help little children of Gaza stay safe and alive!, organized by Atef Ayyad

Help me rescue my beautiful family from the damned war on Gaza. My name … Atef Ayyad needs your support for Help little children of Gaza st

LOVER IS A DAY

"𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸- 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺."

Synopsis: In the stillness of the night, Aventurine's voice breaks through the quiet as he calls, searching for someone to talk to. Maybe he needs comfort, maybe he's chasing away the loneliness, or maybe, without realizing it, he's answering a quiet ache he can't put into words. Genre: Reverse comfort, fluff, slight angst if you squint Character: Aventurine x gn!Therapist!reader Warnings: Unspoken tension, he's pinning but he's lowkey oblivious to it. Reader is a therapist but may include inaccurate information of being one. More focused on Aventurine's pov, slight depressing themes, a lot of self-doubts with himself :( Silly guy deserves some love from all that trauma omg A/N: This was inspired by an Aventurine bot from @/beebleblamblop! [masterlist] [about me]

Aventurine, a recent client of yours, has proven to be a puzzle. Not that he’s rude; in fact, he carries an air of politeness and calmness when he’s with you. Yet the walls he constructs, along with the half-truths and subtle lies he offers, make your attempts to connect feel painfully elusive.

You see the good in him, despite the conflicting opinions his colleagues seem to hold. But does he share that view of himself?

Perhaps not as much as he should.

“What? With my sparkling personality, handsome face, and overflowing bank account? I’d say everyone’s eager for a piece of me,” he quips, a bitter chuckle lacing his words. You choose not to comment on that.

He often claims that your sessions are boring, pointless, and draining— whatever dismissive phrase he conjures up.

So why, then, is he fixated on the digits of your phone number, neatly printed on that little card?

His thumb glided over the small indents of the number, tracing the letters of your name that accompanied it. To him, the card is bland and uninspired. He wonders if your workplace should consider hiring a better graphic designer to create something warmer and more inviting— after all, who wants to feel driven away before they even step through the door?

Yeah, that’s definitely a suggestion he plans to bring up during his next session with you.

But why is he thinking about you?

For someone who insists that the time he spends with you is pointless, his mind certainly seems preoccupied with thoughts of you more often than he’d like to admit.

The sessions he spends with you often leave him feeling unsettled. When you look at him with a gentle gaze in response to his confessions, things he believes should never be considered “normal”, it twists something deep within his stomach. Instead of rolling your eyes or narrowing them in disdain, you meet him with understanding, and that disarms him.

To complicate matters further, your sessions defy the rigidity typical of therapy. Conversations with you flow naturally, smoothly, and surprisingly, they feel relaxing. He can voice his thoughts and express his opinions freely, without the nagging fear that the walls have ears or the lights have eyes.

It shakes him to his core.

It’s unsettling, nauseating, utterly revolting.

Each time you look at him, he feels as if you’re dissecting him, peeling back the layers of his facade with a gentle precision that leaves him exposed. It’s an intimacy that makes him feel painfully vulnerable.

Should he call you?

It’s a thought that has lingered in his mind for a while. Each digit on the card sends a thump echoing in his chest.

He reclines against the pillow, allowing the moonlight to cast a soft glow over the logo of your workplace. The light creeps toward your name and number. Is the moon guiding him toward a decision he’s been too hesitant to make?

He despises the dark at times, yet there’s a strange comfort in the moon’s presence.

In the shadows, he can’t see where his enemies lie hidden; he can’t discern which card he’s holding or where the dice will land. He struggles to see himself.

And perhaps it’s a sign when his phone suddenly illuminates the darkness of his room. It’s so late— why are his colleagues still disturbing him?

He stretches out his hand to grab his phone from the bedside table, wincing slightly as the light pierces through his bleary eyes. Fumbling with the device, he squints until he finally manages to lower the brightness.

“Aventurine, have you finished reading the reports?”

“Aventurine, there’s a meeting with all the Stonehearts tomorrow.”

“Aventurine, Madam Jade is requesting your presence for next week’s mission.”

Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine—

He’s always been the reliable one, but can he ever truly rely on anyone else?

His thoughts drift back to you.

Could he depend on you?

No, that feels selfish.

Should he call you?

No, you’re probably asleep.

But—

I feel like talking to someone.

I want to talk to someone.

“My mind’s a mess…” he mutters, rubbing his tired eyes. In this foggy state, he doesn’t even realize his fingers are dialing your number, the beeps sounding softly until your raspy voice cuts through the silence.

“Who the hell is calling me this late— hello?”

He stifles a laugh at your grumpy tone, finding your reaction unexpectedly entertaining. “So, I take it I woke you up?”

“Huh?”

A brief silence hangs in the air, and he contemplates hanging up, thinking he should leave a sheepish apology for disturbing you. But then again, maybe he’s not that sorry.

“Is this… Is this Mr. Aventurine?” you mumble, still half-asleep.

He scoffs playfully, raising an eyebrow. “Mr.? Really? Do you have to be all professional even in a situation like this?” He huffs, feeling a smirk tug at his lips. “And yeah, it’s me. Surprised?” He chuckles as he settles back against the bed.

“Why did you call me so late? And how did you get my number? Ah— wait, you’re in the IPC; it’s easy for you to acquire information…” He can almost hear you sigh, likely pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Then, he blinks as he catches an inaudible noise from your end, followed by the sound of sheets rustling, and suddenly you seem to panic.

“Wait— are you alright? Is something troubling you? Why did you call me?”

“Geez, relax. You’re getting all paranoid for no reason,” he reassures you, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’m fine.” There’s something endearing about your concern.

He lets out a soft sigh, propping his phone against the pillow beside his ear. With his right arm draped over his forehead, he gazes at the ceiling, idly watching the fan’s blades spin. “There’s no emergency, so don’t worry. I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”

“...Are you sure?” you ask again, the worry lacing your voice.

You always seem so concerned about him.

It warms him.

Rolling his eyes slightly at your persistent tone, he huffs. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m actually lying in bed right now as we speak. Nothing is wrong; stop worrying.”

Please, worry a little more about me.

“And…I got your number from the business card you dropped earlier today.”

“My business card?” Were you annoyed with him? He hopes not.

He can hear you frantically standing up, rummaging through your coats and drawers, before you let out a small gasp. “Oh, so it was you who took it! I ended up not having a business card to spare for the client after you!”

“I gave you my card the first time we met—” he recalls that moment clearly, months ago. “So why take it again?”

He merely shrugs, the smile evident in his voice as he responds. “Ah… Why did I take it today, hmm? Can’t I just want a way to get in contact with you?”

“That’s not the point. I gave you my business card a long time ago, so there was no need to take another one from me. Or were you not even aware I gave it to you?”

“I was aware, trust me. I’m not that careless.”

Truthfully, he lost the card almost immediately after taking it. In his defense, he hadn’t actually planned to come back that day.

“I just wanted another one, that’s all.”

But he did anyway.

“Don’t lie to me,” you shot back, your tone as sharp as ever. Typical of you; you’ve already figured him out. What’s next? Are you going to carve out his heart and inspect it in detail? Gouge out his eyes and replace them with yours? You understand how he views the world, and you want to delve into his perspective.

Layer by layer, he allows you to do just that.

“Do you see why our sessions are important?”

He scoffs again, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. My colleagues only think I need therapy because everyone in the office has a stick up their ass.”

“Mhmmmm…”

...

“So, why did you call me?”

And that’s the question he finds himself pondering again. Yeah, why did he call you?

His mind insists he just wanted someone to talk to.

But his heart is tangled in confusion.

Sure, he wanted to talk to someone— but about what, exactly?

“I was… bored,” he whispers, fiddling with his strands of hair. Is it just him, or is the room getting warmer? Is the AC broken?

“You’re not annoyed that I woke you up, right?”

“Any sane person would be annoyed if they were woken up at these ungodly hours of the night,” you grunt, settling back against your pillow and pulling the blankets over you. It’s cold.

...

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Your voice is as soft as cotton, and he stiffens.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you really?”

“Mhm.”

It falls quiet again. He hates the silence, much like he loathes the darkness. His thoughts consume him in this deafening stillness, with no noise to distract him or conversations to eavesdrop on.

Each minute of silence gnaws at him, filling him with guilt. He starts to feel a pang of remorse when he hears a soft yawn from your side.

But I want to be selfish just this once.

“You there?” he murmurs, his lilac-blue eyes flicking to your icon on his phone, watching the timer tick by.

“Yes.”

What else is there to say? He ponders. Was there anything he truly wanted to tell you? His mind feels like a jumbled mess. Why did he even feel the need to call? To hear your voice? Woah there, that’s not professional, Kakavasha.

“I…”

He trails off, opening his lips only to close them again when no words come. 'I' what?

I miss you?

No, that’s wrong.

Or is it?

“If there’s anything troubling you, feel free to speak your mind. You can depend on me, Aventurine.” Your gentle coaxing invites him to share whatever weighs on him.

But nothing burdens him at the moment, not when he’s with you.

“Sorry, I can’t really figure out what I want to say either,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes.

“That’s fine.”

What’s happening? Why is his mind blank, yet his heart feels like it’s dancing? Your voice seems to stir every emotion within him. Are you doing this on purpose? You’re pulling at his heartstrings, and he’s starting to have second thoughts about being this vulnerable around you.

“I…”

He starts again, feeling warmth spread through his body before he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I like the moon.”

You seem to laugh at his words. Oh, you’re laughing. Your giggles are comforting, like a cold pillow on a warm night. “I like the moon too.”

You’re like the moon.

“It’s quite pretty today, no?”

You’re pretty.

He slaps his face in disbelief at his own thoughts. What?

He stares out his window, watching the curtains billow and part as he catches a glimpse of the moon. It’s always beautiful, but tonight it looks particularly breathtaking. “It does.”

You yawn again, and his gaze softens before he shifts his attention back to the screen, noting the timer has been ticking for almost half an hour of...everything and nothing.

This entire situation feels pointless.

“But I like the sun more,” your voice comes through, even softer now, and he can hear the effort you’re making to stay awake. “It’s so cold here.”

“Really? It’s so hot at my place.”

Silence falls, leaving only the soft buzz emanating from the speaker. “Hey, do you—”

Beep. Call ended.

“…Seems like you fell asleep, huh?” he mumbles, a small smile gracing his lips.

He lets out a yawn himself, suddenly aware of the burning in his eyes and the stiffness in his bones. When his phone screen returns to the contacts, he clicks his tongue at the flood of notifications from his colleagues, now comfortably nesting atop his screen.

Is work all they ever think about? Tsk…

His fingers hover over your icon, pressing in to tap the buttons on his screen, sending you one last message.

“Goodnight.”

✓

He turns off his phone, setting it back down on his bedside table with a groan. Until the next session, he supposes.

✓✓

"Wait, you can't just—"