your little star⁷

It has been literal years but every time I see Martin’s tweets posted somewhere and his word is shared as truth while her post is not shared it sort of reiterates the fact that we trust men to speak about feminism more than we believe women who experience it. 

Adding screenshots of her post. His whole post is there without needing a link. Hers should be, too.

illustrations for a poem I wrote called The Invisible Palace about a kidnapped princess and her best friend's attempt to rescue her.

𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹

👍🏻Vetted by@90-ghost  -vetted link

My name is Shada Kassab, and I am a 24-year-old mother living in Gaza. Every day is a fight for survival for me, my husband Hussein, and our baby boy Adam, who is just five months old.

My home was destroyed and my husband lost his work as a driver. He had a water truck and used it to spread water to people in need, but it was destroyed alongside my home. I have evacuated many times. The first evacuation was at Deir el balah and I stayed there for more than 4 months. And now I've evacuated again to Anusirat camp and I don't know where could be the next evacuation.

I need your support to help me and to save my son (Adam) from this violence. I need to have a safe life with my small family. Due to the high prices of traveling here from the only border I do this link to help me and my husband evacuate from Gaza Strip forever to seek our future.

I truly appreciate you taking the time to read this. If you can’t donate, even sharing this post could help us reach someone who can. Every reblog is a reminder that we’re not alone, and your kindness—big or small—means everything. ❤️

You can share this or donate with anything you can 🙏🙏🙏🇵🇸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

I’m writing this with a heart full of pain and hope.

My name is Nasr, a young man from Gaza, and I’m sharing our story not because I want to—but because I have to.

💔 The war took everything from us.

In just moments, my entire world collapsed.

My mother and sister were killed in an airstrike.

My father is seriously ill and unable to work or provide for us.

Now I am the one responsible for my younger siblings—little children who have seen more horror than any child should.

We used to live a simple life.

We weren’t rich, but we had love and hope.

Now, we sleep under the open sky, surrounded by fear and uncertainty.

Every night, I wonder how I’ll feed them tomorrow.

Every morning, I’m just thankful we’re still alive.

This is not just my story. This is our fight to survive.

We are now struggling to afford even the basics:

A home, food, medicine, and safety.

Right now, we need your kindness more than ever.

Even $10 💵 can help us:

Buy food for the children 🍞

Get essential medicine for my father 💊

Buy them clothes or warm blankets 🧥

Give them a small sense of safety

If you can’t donate, you can still help.

🔁 Re-share this post. Spread our story.

You never know who might see it and feel moved to help.

We are not just numbers. We are human. We are survivors. And we’re asking you… please don’t look away.

it's draining, it's scary, it's heartbreaking.

Sxf art dump from the movie code white

art by @emmaalovesbooks

Blooming in the fall, the white plants gained popularity all around Camelot for their beauty. Amongst them, Uther himself couldn’t help but compare them to his late wife, and thus, ordered a large bouquet to be placed in his room routinely.