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Inktober 22-24: Shimizu Raimei, Shimizu Raikou and Meguro Gau.

The NNO part of this Inktober is over ;-; I decide not to draw Miharu or Yoite because there were a lot of Yoite fanarts from me and I still have a bunch of old sketches with them both. Who knows, maybe I’ll finish those sketches someday. Here I have two years old Inktober with Kouichi and Shijima.

Yoite from Nabari no Ou is canonically intersex!

some more nabari no ou doodles <33

this is absolutely my most favorite illustration in the slow damage art book. domestic fujitowa. god i love them. god i need them to be happy. they’re husbands. fujieda splurges on fancy wine, towa doesn’t care but he loves him. they cook mediocre dinners together. they’re in love. they’re healing.

GRFRTFGGGGGHHHHH IM NORMAL ABOUT THEM IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM AARAGGGGHHHUUUHH

This was our home… now it’s gone

We have collected $20,477raised of $40,000 !🇵🇸

Verified by : @nabulsi

Click here to make donation👉 gofundme

Even $20 will make a big difference and save us!

🔗 🔗 Gofundme link for donations 👇👇👇👇🔗 🔗

save family lost their home ,dreams and everything in Gaza 💔💔

This is my home before the war and after the war how it became💔💔💔

Before: After:

Before the war, we lived a simple but happy life in Gaza. Our home in Shujaiya wasn’t big or luxurious, but it was filled with peace, love, and comfort. We had our own land — a small garden where we planted vegetables, a roof where we sat on warm evenings drinking tea, laughing as a family. Our kids went to school every day with joy, dreaming about their future. We had work. We had neighbors we trusted. We had routines, family dinners, birthdays, laughter. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. It was full of meaning.

The bombing started, and we had to flee our home during the first week of the war. We left everything behind — not knowing it would be the last time we would see our home standing. We first went to Rimal, hoping to be safer. That’s where we heard the news: our home, the place we built with love and hard work, was destroyed. Flattened. Just like that — gone. Everything we owned, everything we saved for, was buried under rubble.

After that, we kept running. From Rimal to Al-Zawaida. Then to Rafah. We’ve been displaced four times. Each time we carry less with us, but more pain. We sleep on floors. Sometimes there’s no roof. Sometimes we stay in tents. The nights are cold, the days are burning hot. There is no electricity, no clean water, no toilets, no privacy. We wait hours just to get a piece of bread. We lost our jobs, our income. We lost our safety, our dignity. We live in fear every day — fear of the next bomb, the next loss.

We used to dream of the future. Now, we just dream of surviving the next day.

We are the Anas family — like many families in Gaza — ordinary people who only wanted peace, a safe home, and a chance to live in dignity. But the war has taken everything from us: our home, our land, our jobs, our dreams, our stability… even our sleep.

It’s hard to write this. It's hard to ask for help. But we are desperate.

Please, if you are reading this, help us. Even a small donation could mean we sleep under a real roof again. Could help us buy medicine, food, or clean water. Could bring back a little dignity to our lives. If you cannot donate, please share this story. You might reach someone who can.

This isn’t just a story. This is our life. And we’re still living through it.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

💔

Please, we are in dire need of you and your support. If you cannot donate, you can share☹️❤️🥹

Even $20 will make a big difference and save us!

You can donate through any of the following link:

1-gofundme