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we're not kids anymore.
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@falloutkeiji
hello!!!
my name is kravitz! i am 21 years old & go by they/he pronouns!
welcome to my blog!
(minors, ageless blogs, & ed blogs are not welcome)
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ about me⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ blog rules ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
tldr: i reblog and sometimes write for st & hq. some things i post are nsfw so minors never interact ever pls.
happy easter 🐰
hello folks i am still on an indefinite hiatus but i want my haikyuu mutuals to know that i am going on a date at the end of this month w/ a girl to watch the haikyuu dumpster battle movie when it comes out 😼 just wanted to flex anyway love y’all
hey y’allll update on this: she is my girlfriend now :D
“My Story: A Boy Fighting for His Family”
My name is Ahmed, and I am 15 years old. I never thought I would have to carry the weight of my entire family, but here I am, fighting every day to keep them alive.
We lost my father in the war. He went out one day to find food for us because we were starving. It was dangerous, but he had no choice. He never came back. He was injured and bled to death because there was no one to help him. Our neighbors found his body and buried him because we couldn’t even afford a proper burial. That day, we lost everything—our protector, our provider, and our hope.
Now, it’s up to me. I am the eldest son, and I have to take care of my mother, my twin brother Ahmed Abed, and my two little sisters. Every morning, I go out to find work. I earn barely $1 or $2 a day, which isn’t enough to buy bread for all of us. My brother started working too, but it’s the same for him. We rely on bread and whatever humanitarian aid we can get, but it’s never enough.
Winter is here, and it’s freezing. We don’t have warm clothes, blankets, or even a heater. We lost everything in the war, and the little we have now is falling apart. We live in a rented apartment, and the landlord is pressuring us for rent we can’t pay. I don’t know what will happen to us if he throws us out.
I want my brother to become a doctor. It’s my biggest dream. I want him to help people, to save lives, because no one was there to save our father. I’m ready to sacrifice everything—my childhood, my education, even my life—if it means my family can survive and my brother can have a future.
Please, if you’re reading this, help us. We don’t have much time. My family needs food, warmth, and a safe place to live. I just want to see my mother and sisters smile again, and I want my brother to have a chance to achieve his dream. You can be the reason we survive. You can be the hope we desperately need.
“My Story: A Boy Fighting for His Family” My name is Ahmed, and I a… ahmed mohamed qwaider needs your support for Urgent Aid Needed
Stop a moment Please help these vulnerable cats in Gaza🙏
I ask you to support my campaign by donating to help these cats who are weak and forgotten in the war. Every day that passes, this war continues. More and more of these cats are dying, as there is less care and less food. Your support and donation will help keep these souls alive. Thank you with all my heart
My name is Islam Al-Banna, and I’m launching this campaign on behalf of … Islam Mohammed needs your support for Help Hussam Feed the Forgott
Hello👋
Please take a moment to read my story.
I am Heba Al-Dahdouh. I currently live in the completely destroyed city of Gaza. Since the war on Gaza began on 7/1/2024, my family- my father Nasif, my mother Asmaa, and my siblings Khaled, Ahmad, Muhammad, and Malak-have been living in constant fear, crying, and suffering due to shrapnel, shells, and bullets.
We have no food, no electricity, no cooking gas, no schools, no homes, no cleaning supplies, and no clothes. My school has been bombed, and my brother Khaled's university is now rubble, depriving us all of education. The war has forced us to live in displacement centers, which are just tents unsuitable for living, especially in winter.
Every day we live death, terror, and panic a thousand times because of the ongoing bombardment of my city. The war has killed more than 50 of my relatives and neighbors. At the start of the war, we sought refuge at my aunt's house, . Imagine: we have survived imminent death more than 20 times and have been displaced among shelters more than 13 times. My siblings and I have suffered from many illnesses due to malnutrition, and we need medication continuously.
Dear friends around the world, Greetings to you from Gaza, the land of pe… Heba Nasef needs your support for Helping Heba Family : Escaping
If we stay in Gaza, we might lose our lives. Recently, we have been seriously considering leaving Gaza for a safe place. However, travel costs are extremely high. We need over $50,000 to leave Gaza. Due to exorbitant prices, rampant unemployment, lack of security, the ongoing siege, and relentless bombardment, we have lost all our money. How can we live in such insecurity, with constant shelling and shrapnel flying above us? Dear compassionate friends around the world,
With your generous donations, even if small, you can save 7 people from imminent death, allowing us to start a life outside Gaza filled with love, peace, and hope.
With my warmest regards from the city of Gaza,
Heba Al-Dahdouh.
megmi sketch
⛔️Emergency 🍉my account was blocked by Tumblr please help me support me please 😭⛔️⛔️
Winter has come, there are no clothes🙏😔✋️🫂, my tent is destroyed, help me, my tent is flooded and destroyed by the force of the rain,⛺️☄️☁️💔 save my family, my children are sleeping in the street, we have no shelter, save us🫂💔🍉
My friend, come and donate to me. I need your donation and sharing. Please help me if you can😭💔💔🙏🙏🥺🥺🍉
Hello world. I'm Em Ali Al-Habil I'm from Gaza. We were displaced from the north to th… Em Ali needs your support for Please help my child
Verified @a-shade-of-blue
@aya2mohammed
@dhjsjskakajsjsksma
@gazaboovintage
@sar-soor
@help-mywife
@donald-trump-official
@donabrisada
@rebicasohansblog-blog
@holdinbacksecrets
Welcome
I would like to tell you that I am from Gaza, where we now live under bombs, explosives, and warplanes from which we cannot sleep for many nights, and other things. This war has destroyed our bodies, our lives, and our souls. It has destroyed our homes, taken everything from us, destroyed all places, changed all landmarks, and changed our situation for the worse. We used to live fine. And peace and love of life, and here we live in hunger, fear, and terror, me, my children, and the rest of my family, and we do not have the minimum necessities for life, and we live in very dilapidated tents.We do not know how to act when winter comes upon us. We will be drowned by the rain and wind, and I will not know how to protect my children or my family, neither from the bombing nor from the winter. Therefore, I beg you to help me so that I, my children, and my family can live and survive this hideous war
tabarae bimablagh basit w law b 10$ .
My name is Darius, an electrical engineer from California. I h… Darius Rudominer needs your support for Urgent Help for Mohammed Nasseer's S
Hello, I’m Ahmed from Gaza😔😔
Life here is filled with daily challenges due to the ongoing blockade and war. My family struggles to secure our basic needs. My parents are ill, and my children suffer from malnutrition due to a lack of food and clean water😥😭😭
Despite everything💔💔
I haven’t lost hope, but the war has worsened our situation, making it harder than I can handle alone. That’s why I’m reaching out for your help. Every donation can make a difference by providing food and clean water for my family👨👩👦👦
My name is Ahmed Al-Habil, a father of a family of six, and I lost almost everything in… Ahmed AlHabil needs your support for Help Save Ahme
Thank you for any support you can offer🧡
Hi guys, tumblr banned my old account @ahmed-omar0When I create a new account, please help me with your support and donations🙏🙏
@sar-soor @90-ghost @maoistyuri @lonelymoonlight @bjfinn
@akamanto0
@maoistyuri
My name is Ahmed Al-Habil, a father of a family of six, and I lost almost everything in… Ahmed AlHabil needs your support for Help Save Ahme
Vetted by association. @aya2mohammed (#166 on the verified fundraiser list vetted by el-shab-husssein and nabulsi) has stated that Ahmed (@/ahmed-omar0, @/ahmedomer9) is his brother. See screenshot below and also this post here for proof.
Currently €819 raised of €50,000 goal.
Ahmed used to be a fisherman but has lost his livelihood due to the bombing. He has 4 children: Omar (10), Khadija (9), Ali (6) and Zain (3). His 72-year-old father suffers from chronic diseases and osteoporosis, and his 70-year-old mother suffers from spinal problems, diabetes and high blood pressure. Please share and donate if you are able to!
https://gofund.me/315b0b3c
Thank you @nabulsi .....Please gyse help me and family
€2,826/€50,000 as of September 9, 2024
Please continue to support Ahmed's campaign!! Donate and share!!
no.1 supporter
stinky rat man with socks!! yes please!!
whumptober day 1: panic attack
tw: panic attacks
iwaizumi knew today is going to be a bad one from the moment he woke up.
every step is akin to torture, leaden limbs refusing to cooperate with even the slightest movement. his gaunt expression stares back at him in the mirror, faintly encouraging him to take a day off. this wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, but the team has a practice match after school. their ace can't afford a mental health day, not when victory is on the line.
"morning, iwa-chan!" oikawa meets him on the corner of their block, a routine they've had since they were old enough to walk to school together. his best friend's chipper expression falls at iwaizumi's slumped shoulders and downturned eyes. "you look awful, even worse than usual. bad day?"
he nods. oikawa's smile is small, stretching his arm toward him. iwaizumi takes his hand, reassured by its strength, and lets him guide him to school.
morning practice is on the lighter side, which iwaizumi is grateful for. it's easy to turn his brain off for drills, guided by muscle memory and instinct. oikawa isn't as loud as usual, which is his teammates' cue that their ace is at the mercy of his anxiety, curbing their exuberance for his benefit.
at the end of practice, they change into their uniforms and head for the school building. oikawa hands iwaizumi a protein bar, leaves him with a gentle pat on the shoulder when they separate to their respective classrooms.
the buzz in his mind worsens as the day passes. iwaizumi doesn't retain anything from his lectures, barely takes any notes. at lunch, he stares at his bento while oikawa, hanamaki, and matsukawa chatter, ultimately reaching for the lid to put it away, untouched. that causes all conversation to cease, earning him an incredulous look from oikawa. "what?"
"you have to eat, iwa-chan," he says, stopping his hand. "we had morning practice, and a game after school. you need the energy."
"i'm not-"
"did you take your meds?" hanamaki asks.
he shakes his head. “they make me drowsy. i can’t fall asleep now.”
"i think that's better than this," matsukawa comments, gesturing with his chopsticks. "you aren't in any condition to play, anyway."
"i'll be fine," iwaizumi insists. "hanamaki is still out with his rolled ankle, and kunimi is absent. what kind of message are we sending, if all our regular spikers aren’t on the court?”
“it’s just a practice match,” oikawa points out. “it isn’t the end of the world, iwa-chan.” and yet, he can’t help but feel like it is, a tremor shaking his body at the idea of sitting out because of his anxiety. he isn’t that fragile. he can push passed this.
or so he thinks.
the end of the school day comes, and iwaizumi is back in the gym. jouzenji will arrive in an hour; in the meantime, he hardens his expression, directs his underclassmen and speaks with oikawa to finalize their line-up. “iwa-chan, you-“ he turns away, ignoring the rest of oikawa’s words to help their managers with the practice bibs.
jouzenji arrives, and after a quick warm-up, the match begins. iwaizumi starts in the back row, ready to receive. his heartbeat echoes in his ears, nearly drowning the whistle. the serve goes up, the ball flying across the net straight toward him.
shit, the ball is flying straight toward him. panic rises in his chest, raising his arms to receive, but it’s at an awkward angle, and it bounces out of bounds. the first point comes to jouzenji.
his heart lurches at the astonished looks around him. matsukawa claps his hands. “don’t mind,” he calls out. watari echoes him. the others turn away. iwaizumi gives a quick apology, avoiding oikawa’s eye.
watari picks up the second serve, and oikawa sets the rhythm. they go back and forth, and iwaizumi is rotated to the front. matsukawa serves, their opponents picking it up. matsukawa receives their spike, and iwaizumi makes his approach. he jumps, raises his arm. his fingers barely brush the ball.
it falls back on their side. iwaizumi looks at oikawa, hands still over his head. “iwa-chan-“ he tries to say.
“sorry. i’ll score the next one.” his limbs are still so heavy. same with his chest.
after a few rallies, he’s jumping for the spike again. a triple block rises over him, the ball floating in front of him. he musters his strength and spikes, a satisfying smash that echoes in his ears. except, the ball rebounds off the block and back onto the court. a point for jouzenji.
a chorus of don’t mind! arises. iwaizumi braces himself on his knees, breathless. he hears his opponents murmur behind him. are you sure that’s seijoh’s ace? was he always this pathetic? there are snickers and declarations of victory. his team is three points behind, jouzenji the first to reach 20. he hasn’t scored a single point, squandering every chance, being absolutely useless–
“iwaizumi.”
coach. he beckons him with his finger, and iwaizumi stumbles toward him. “i don’t want you to play in this condition. take a break.”
“i’m fine, i just–“
“it isn’t a suggestion, but an order. sit out.”
iwaizumi freezes. his replacement takes his place on the court. instead of sitting with hanamaki on the bench, he drags his feet to the locker room, shoving the door open, and sinking onto the nearest bench.
the anxiety that’s been building since the moment he woke up finally claims him.
his breaths are short. the air is sweltering. his chest hurts with every gasp, tears at the corners of his eyes. he squeezes them shut, tries to count his breaths like his therapist taught him, but his thoughts run rampant, a deafening symphony that makes him feel smaller and smaller.
you’re useless. you just left your team behind without scoring a single point. what kind of ace are you? useless, failure, don’t deserve to play, weak, weak, weak–
“hajime.” a voice cuts through the darkness, a bridge of light through the spiral. “hajime, listen to me, okay? let’s get your breathing under control, hm?”
iwaizumi gasps like a fish out of water. the voice is unperturbed, counts his breaths with a measured tone. a hand rests on his back, rubbing counterclockwise circles. “you’re doing well,” the voice soothes. a handkerchief touches his cheeks to dry his tears. “you’re safe with me, iwa-chan. you’re doing so well.”
that makes him open his eyes. he’s still in the locker room, oikawa seated beside him, still in his practice uniform, #1 bib over his shirt. iwaizumi tries to speak, his words caught in his throat. oikawa places a finger on his lips, shaking his head. “don’t talk, just breathe. it’s just us. take your time.”
the last of his panic recedes, leaving him boneless, as always. iwaizumi leans against oikawa, fresh wave of tears springing in his eyes. “why’re you here?” he rasps.
“do you really think i’d keep playing, knowing my best friend is having a panic attack? yahaba-chan is a good setter, you know. mattsun can take care of the team; we’re heading home.”
“what? but-“
“no buts. we’re going home and you’re going to take your meds. i asked makki to text auntie what happened, so she’ll make your comfort food, and i’ll feed you. then, you’re going to sleep. i’d say take a bath too, but that can wait.” oikawa turns to him, expression solemn. “it was dumb of you to play like this, iwa-chan. just because you aren’t physically hurt doesn’t mean you can pretend you’re fine.”
iwaizumi deflates. he used to give oikawa so much shit about overworking, but when it came to his own mental health, he always pushed through, even if it left him exhausted or worse, panicked. “sorry,” he mumbles.
oikawa shakes his head. “there’re more matches, you know. it’s okay to sit out when you have to. ready to go?” he stands first, supporting iwaizumi every step through changing and then out of the locker room. they leave with the match to their backs, the sounds of the court reminding iwaizumi of what’s to come, but only if he cares for himself better.
he’ll learn. he has to.
After work conversation
this post is dedicated to my mutuals who are still my mutuals despite the horrors
James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room
