Acornsgh - ♡🕸️✩°｡⋆

Misa

🕊️ Please Take a Moment to Read Nadin’s Story

My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.

My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.

I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.

This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.

Chuffed

Help Nadin Keep Her Life Stitched Together

My name is Nadin I’m a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on — to hope, to our families, to any piece

I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.

Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.

💬 Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You

Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,

When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.

From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.

💔 A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength

As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.

But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.

“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.

“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.

🌿 What Life Looks Like for Us Now

Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.

But things have only gotten harder.

The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.

We’re trapped.

🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed—we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.

And yet…

Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.

Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.

💖 What You Can Do

If you’ve already donated—thank you beyond words. If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.

Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.

Chuffed

Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family

My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my

✨ Why It All Matters

This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.

Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.

🙏 From the Heart: A Quiet Apology

There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.

When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.

If that happened, I am truly sorry.

Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.

I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.

If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.

Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.

Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 )

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️

"Try to be the reason your doctor gets confused."

chopped hair

🔴can you help me 🇵🇸🍉

This is my home Which was destroyed by the accursed occupation yesterday I'm not sad about the stones I'm sad about the memories I hope this damned war ends 💔💔😔 🍉🇵🇸

vetted by @90-ghost

ꪖ ꪗꫀꪖ᥅ ꫀ᥅ꪖᦓꫀᦔ (A Year Erased)

𝓣he sharp shrill of thunder outside boomed, jolting me awake. Everything felt so numb. Where am I?

My hand fumbles a bit before reaching across the small nightstand, knocking over a glass of water before finding the source of the noise. Silence returned, but my heart hammered against my ribs. Something felt… Wrong. I slowly sat up, observing my surroundings. This bedroom looked the same as before -- gray walls, a cluttered desk with papers, a night lamp, and a worn leather jacket hung over the chair.

But there was a weight in the air, a heaviness I couldn’t place.

It wasn’t until I swung my legs over the side of the bed that I noticed it.

A note.

A small piece of paper rested on the nightstand, written in hurried, slanted handwriting:

"Don't trust anyone -- not even yourself."

The words sent a quiet chill in my spine. What did those even mean? Was this a prank? The closer I look at it, the more I realize I don't recognize this handwriting.

I grabbed the note and turned it over, hoping for some clue, but the back was blank. Swallowing hard, I tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Nothing was there.

No fragments of a party, no blurry memories of too many drinks, not even a sense of how I got home. I checked my phone for answers, scrolling through my messages and call logs, but there was nothing recent -- just a blank stretch of time that made my stomach twist.

Then I saw the date.

[ March 15th, 2019. ]

My phone fell and clattered with the floor on impact. The last date I remembered was March 15th -- of last year.

I let myself scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over the pile of clothes on the floor, and ran to the mirror. My reflection stared back, familiar yet different. My hair was longer than I remembered, my face thinner. A faint scar curved along my jawline, one I didn't recognize.

Panic surged in my chest and took over my mind. I then tore through my closet, rifling through clothes that weren't mine -- jackets I'd never bought, shoes I didn't recognize. Even the books on my shelf were unfamiliar, their spines worn as if I'd read them a hundred times.

What the hell had happened to me?

The sound of a door creaking open made me freeze. I turned slowly, the note already crumpled in my fist.

"H-Hello?" I called, my voice shaking.

No answer.

I stepped into the hallway, my bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. The sterile apartment was eerily quiet, every creak and groan of the old building increased in the silence.

When I reached the kitchen, I stopped.

There, on the counter, was another note.

"It's not safe here. They're watching."

I feel a lump form in my throat as I stared at the message, my composure being already shaken. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my hands felt clammy.

"Who's watching?" I whispered.

<3

𝔸𝕟 𝔼𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 (bro idk what to call it)

Another day, another torturous round of school.

Saiki Kusuo woke up as usual, his strawberry-colored hair already perfectly styled, without needing to do anything thanks to his psychic abilities. Not that he wanted to impress anyone – it was far from it. But since his telekinesis and all the other powers he had made it impossible to even think about doing something as mundane and simple as brushing his hair, he just lets his abilities handle it.

About school? It's the same as always for him. The pink haired psychic sits in his usual spot, trying to keep his psychic shields up to avoid hearing the inner thoughts of his classmates. Kineshi and Shun kept talking about their "awesome" plans for the weekend. Teruhashi keeps on being annoying and wanting to seek attention from him. Seriously, do they ever stop? All he ever wanted was to be average, not noticed by anyone. Was that too much to ask for?

Anyway, nothing noteworthy happened during the day. Oh, except for the usual noise from Riki, who tried to make him laugh by doing something ridiculous with his hair. Of course, he didn't laugh. He should know better by now. But he couldn't blame him. In his world, that's probably the best way to get attention.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of another pointless day, Kusuo was already preparing for his escape. He could barely stand to stay any longer in that horrendous school. Not that he has a choice, though. Being stuck in this world with a bunch of clueless people who have no idea about the disaster that is his existence? That's his life.

When he got home after a little walk in peace (somehow managing to get away from Nendo), he immediately headed to his room. Inside there it was quiet and peaceful. His only sanctuary. The one place where he could try to keep things from falling apart.

But then, something very annoying happened.

Kusuo was about to settle into his chair and relax for the evening when he noticed something unusual. One of the pink clips on his head – the ones that help stabilize his powers – was a little off. [Huh? The hell?] He didn't think too much of it at first, but as he concentrated and went up to reach it, he realized that it was, in fact, deflating.

Great. Just great.

He sighed deeply. Again? These things were important – more so than most people realize. If he doesn't have his pink clips fully inflated or in a good condition, he'll risk losing control of his powers. Which means his sneezes could level an entire block, he might break the floor with just applying a little bit more pressure by stepping on it, and worst of all, his entire life could slowly spiral into chaos. He quickly rushed to his dresser to grab the emergency backup box that Kusuke left behind, the one he kept hidden in case of situations like this. But when he turned back around, he was already beginning to feel a shift in the air. His heart suddenly dropped. "...Hey, Kusuo? I need your help–"

[ Dad! Could you not right now?! ] Kusuo huffed as he shouted telepathically to him, hoping he could just ask him to not be an idiot for once and not make things worse for him.

But of course, his dad didn't hear him. He never did, and that's what led to the problem.

He has teleportation as one of his abilities, and while he normally has it under control, this time, his powers got all out of whack. It wasn't just a simple teleportation – He wasn't even trying to teleport himself! He then felt his nose feel ticklish. He let out a small sneeze.

A simple, singular sneeze.

That's all it took.

And as soon as he did, his father – who had been standing just a little too close – disappeared. Kusuo froze in horror, staring at the spot where he had been.

What did I just do?  Kusuo is sure he felt him pop out of existence for just a second... And then... He was gone.

[ DAD?! ] He was panicking. But of course, he wasn't there to hear him.

That's when it hit him. In his panic, his powers hadn't just shifted his position a few feet like they usually do when he teleports. Oh, no. His powers were too unstable. He had teleported  his dad into another location. He tried to sense him by emitting signals, but he couldn't. His father wasn't found anywhere in the world no matter how he tried. Did he just teleport him into somewhere other than this world?

Kusuo's knees felt weak as he slumped to the floor, his head spinning. This was bad. Really, really bad. He was responsible for making sure everything in the universe stayed intact. And now, he probably sent his father to a completely different parallel universe. He's not even sure how to get him back.

His heart was racing. He's the one who handles all of the chaos, yet somehow, he's the one causing it. The pink haired man started thinking about how he could possibly fix this, but then the panic set in. What if there's no way to get him back? What if he's lost forever in some random world? He tried to calm himself down, but the truth was, he really couldn't. It was getting harder and harder to control his powers. He could feel his mind getting weaker, like a rubber band that was stretched too far. There was only one thing he could do now.

He needed to find a way to reinflate those damaged limiters and get control back. Fast. How did this escalate to this point?