♡ "home is where you are, whether it is here, in the deepest ocean or hottest desert, you are my home."
♡ slow and curious first kiss, both characters seemingly nervous, blush painting their faces.
♡ stolen glances across the room.
♡ "the gods took their time with you."
♡ wearing their heart on their sleeves around each other.
♡ character A's face blushing as B smootheres them in compliments even years into their relationship with character B.
♡ quiet murmurs of affection.
♡ “i missed you.” “i was gone for two hours.”
♡ coffee shop and bookstore dates.
➣ HARD LOVE
♡ guttural rain confessions.*
♡ "do you not get it? every second i spend in the absence of your presence pains me."
♡ harsh and passionate first kisses.
♡ "i fucking yearn for you and you haven't so much as spared me a glance in years!"
♡ walls that they have each spent years building crumbling in the presence of one another.
♡ heated arguments turned into heated confessions.
♡ "i hate you! i hate you so much i can't bear to be near you." "you are walking a fine line between hate and desire, love."
♡ both being far too stubborn to admit their feelings, their hearts both caged deep within them.
♡ (years/months) of pent up emotions being aired in an argument and when the dust settles the only emotion left is their desire for each other.
♡ “do you think i want this? do you think i want to be stuck in this endless cycle of wanting you? do you truly think i enjoy waking up every morning realizing you’re not there?”
♡ tears spilling as they finally give in and proclaim their feelings.
♡ “i am not an easy person to love.” “i think i’ve got the hang of it.”
Hello! Sorry for the delay, I was a bit busy falling in loveeeeee 🌈 and trying to get a new job. But, at long last, I've finally had the time to put together a form for the interest check for Maze Women 2026!
If you're interested in participating in any way, please fill out the form and reblog so the word gets out. I'll close the form on ✨May 10th✨
Share your thoughts with me! What you liked, what you didn't, and anything else :)
Haaaiii luvies!! this is for the bestest friend ever (i'd say we're friends <3),, they're fr the #1 urumi fan and idc i ship urumi x igi so bad!!!!!!!!!!)!))))!!!! Soooosssososoo,,, this is for them!!!!!!
TYPE: urumi x reader (no use of y/n.), gender neutral!reader, fluff, borderlands au (after a game.)
WARNINGS: brief mention of blood, injury, and death. small kiss,,, obsession with strawberry pocky—and just cuties <3 idk lmk if i forgot anything???
pocky crumbs and sweet kisses, at least you survived.
The game ends with the sound of the siren crackling into silence.
You’re still alive. Barely.
Your hands are scraped, your clothes half torn, and your lungs ache like they forgot how to breathe in panic mode. Your legs are jelly, your body buzzing with leftover adrenaline, but your eyes sweep the space for one thing.Or one person.
“Urumi…?”
You spot her near the edge of the collapsed scaffolding—standing there like it hadn’t even happened, like she hadn’t just dodged death twice with nothing but a flick of her smile and a switchblade.
She’s stretching her arms above her head, yawning like she’s bored. She’s smiling. Of course she is.
“You look like shit,” she says cheerfully.
Your breath hitches in a half-laugh. “Thanks.”
“I mean it in a flattering way.” She turns, brushing dust from her coat. “Kind of a rugged, tragic hero thing.”
You roll your eyes, wobbling a bit as you step closer. The gash on your leg stings with every movement.
She notices. Her smile fades a little. “You’re bleeding.”
You glance down. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”
She walks over, and suddenly she’s right in front of you—close enough to smell the faint, sharp tang of metal on her clothes. Her fingers reach out to gently pull your pants away from the wound. Her touch is light. Delicate, even. You’re not used to her being delicate.
“You okay?” she asks, voice soft now. Real.
“…Yeah. Are you?”
She hums thoughtfully, then grins. “Mostly annoyed you didn’t duck faster.”
You snort. “I didn’t realize you cared about my ducking speed.”
“Oh, I don’t,” she says, brushing hair from your face in a way that betrays the words. “But I was sort of planning on flirting with you after this, and it’s harder to do that when you’re dead.”
Your heart stutters in your chest. Wait, what?You blink. “You were what?”
She grins wider. That smug, sweet curve of her lips. “Mm. I mean, if you died, it’d be a huge waste of all the tension we’ve been building, don’t you think?”
You don’t know what to say. Your brain is still trying to catch up.
She leans in slightly, still watching you with that glint in her eye. She always looks like she’s in on a joke no one else gets. It used to annoy you. Now it’s just… her. And somehow it makes you feel safer.
“You’re really full of yourself, huh?” you murmur.
“Only a little,” she says, her voice dropping a bit. “But I’m usually right.” Her expression softens, the playful spark still there—but behind it, something honest. Something vulnerable, maybe.
She reaches out again, slower this time, and her fingers brush lightly under your chin. “I meant it, though,” she says. “I was scared. When I couldn’t see you in the smoke.”
Your throat tightens. “…I was scared too,” you admit.
“Thought I lost you.”
Something shifts between you, the space shrinking without either of you moving much at all. She doesn’t rush it—just watches your expression, eyes flicking between yours like she’s reading the fine print of your soul.
And then, slowly, she leans in. Not fast. Not desperate. Just soft. Intentional. Like she’s giving you time to stop her—like she knows you won’t.
And you don’t.
Her lips touch yours in a kiss that’s all warmth and quiet, laced with something tender that makes your knees a little weaker. It’s not a performance. It’s not teasing. It’s real.
She pulls back after a few seconds, still so close you can feel her breath.
“…Told you I’d flirt with you.”
You stare at her. “That was more than flirting.”
Urumi gives you a smile that’s both proud and soft. “I’m good at escalation.”
You laugh—fully this time, a little dizzy with adrenaline and affection. “You’re insane.”
“Mmm. Maybe. But I’m still your type.”
You should be annoyed. You really should. But instead, you take her hand, squeeze it gently, and shake your head with a grin.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “you kind of are.”
And for once in the Borderlands, it feels like surviving wasn’t just about living—it was about getting to this moment.
With her. With that stupid, beautiful smile.
──── ୨୧ ────
It was Urumi who suggested they find a place to hide out for the night. “There’s a shuttered café nearby,” she said, casually inspecting her nails like she hadn’t just kissed you senseless. “Hard to break into unless you know which vent to crawl through. Lucky for you… I do.”
You didn’t ask how she knew. You were starting to realize that Urumi just… knew things. About places. People. Vents. Pocky stash locations.
Anyways, though, luckily, the trek there wasn’t long, though you winced every time your leg flared with pain. Urumi walked beside you—not doting, not hovering, but aware. She didn’t offer to carry you or anything dramatic like that. She just adjusted her pace to match yours, wordlessly.
And when you stumbled once, her hand caught your elbow and steadied you like it was second nature. Like she already knew your center of gravity better than you did.
The café was small. Dusty. Forgotten. Cracked tiles and broken chairs, but the backroom was intact—warm enough to keep the chill off, and quiet in that rare kind of way. Like the world had been paused.
You both sat on a pile of worn blankets that someone, somewhere, had left behind.
Urumi unzipped her satchel and casually pulled out two slightly crushed snack boxes. “Today’s dinner,” she said, holding up the red foil packet. “Strawberry Pocky. Vintage.”
You blinked. “How the hell do you still have that?”
“I hide things better than I hide feelings,” she said with a crooked grin. “And I hide feelings very well.”
You laughed, gently, and took one of the sticks she held out. Your fingers brushed. Hers were warm.
The first bite was sweet and artificial and perfect. The kind of taste that reminded you—somehow—of life before this place.
“Don’t inhale it all,” she warned, nudging your shoulder as she opened a small container of what looked like broken, buttery cookies. “I’m sharing this with you even though you ran directly into a tripwire back there.”
“I dodged it,” you said around a mouthful of Pocky.
“Barely. You flailed.”
“I didn’t flail.”
“You made a noise.”
“I got startled!”
She bit into a cookie, smiling against it. “It was cute.”
Your cheeks flushed. You didn’t respond. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It never was with her. It felt… settled. Like the storm had passed and now there was only this strange little calm where you sat beside someone who, for whatever reason, made the end of the world feel a little less lonely.
You looked over at her. Her eyes were closed, lips tinted faintly pink from the candy, her knees pulled loosely to her chest.
The quiet made you bold. “Why do you always smile like that?” you asked softly. “Even when things are going to hell.”
She opened her eyes slowly and looked at you. “Because if I don’t smile,” she said, “I’ll think too much. And if I think too much, I’ll panic. And panicking’s not cute.”
That answer should’ve made you laugh. But it didn’t. Because something in her voice told you that was the truth. You didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then you leaned in just slightly and bumped your shoulder against hers. “I’m glad you didn’t panic,” you said quietly. “Because I needed you today.”
Her expression flickered—like a spark in the dark. She didn’t smile this time. Not the usual cheeky grin, at least. Just something softer. Tired.
She reached into the Pocky box, pulled out another stick, and offered it to you with a lopsided look. “I’ll take that as a thank-you. Feed me this one.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
So you did. You gently lifted the stick and held it toward her. She leaned forward without breaking eye contact, bit down, and took it from your fingers in one slow move.
When she sat back, she smiled again. “Romantic.”
“Teeth kind of ruined it.”
“You love it.”
You hated how much she was right.
The two of you sat in the dim light of the backroom for a while, trading snacks and sharing body heat and dumb little jokes that didn’t mean much but also kind of meant everything. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t confessional.
But when Urumi let her head tip to the side and rest on your shoulder—that felt like a secret.
And when she whispered, just barely audible:“…Don’t die in the next one, okay?”
You whispered back, “Only if you don’t.”
And she murmured, eyes already half-closed:“Deal.”
In a world where everything was cruel and loud and fast, this moment was none of those things.
I’M LITERALLY SCREAMING (/srs) OH MY GOD I’M GONNA CRY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS, I JUST HAD TO DO ONE OF THESE
Your throat tightens. “…I was scared too,” you admit.
[ literally almost started tearing up at this STOP ITTTT, literally I would be scared too brolio ]
“Thought I lost you.”
Something shifts between you, the space shrinking without either of you moving much at all. She doesn’t rush it—just watches your expression, eyes flicking between yours like she’s reading the fine print of your soul.
And then, slowly, she leans in. Not fast. Not desperate. Just soft. Intentional. Like she’s giving you time to stop her—like she knows you won’t.
And you don’t.
Her lips touch yours in a kiss that’s all warmth and quiet, laced with something tender that makes your knees a little weaker. It’s not a performance. It’s not teasing. It’s real.
She pulls back after a few seconds, still so close you can feel her breath.
“…Told you I’d flirt with you.”
I typically HATE kiss scenes, and just in general kissing because it isn’t particularly the type of intimacy I, myself enjoy, BUT [ OH MY STARS THAT WAS SO CUTE AND SOFT AND JUST EVERYTHING I NEEDED!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 ]
You stare at her. “That was more than flirting.”
Urumi gives you a smile that’s both proud and soft. “I’m good at escalation.”
You laugh—fully this time, a little dizzy with adrenaline and affection. “You’re insane.”
“Mmm. Maybe. But I’m still your type.”
[ you DEFINITELY ARE, I’D LET YOU BE ALL MY FIRST AND ALL OF MY LASTS 🥹🥹🥹 ]
You should be annoyed. You really should. But instead, you take her hand, squeeze it gently, and shake your head with a grin.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “you kind of are.”
And for once in the Borderlands, it feels like surviving wasn’t just about living—it was about getting to this moment.
With her. With that stupid, beautiful smile.
[ she is SO ethereal, like I just can’t explain it—I love her with my whole BEING. ]
──── ୨୧ ────
It was Urumi who suggested they find a place to hide out for the night. “There’s a shuttered café nearby,” she said, casually inspecting her nails like she hadn’t just kissed you senseless. “Hard to break into unless you know which vent to crawl through. Lucky for you… I do.”
You didn’t ask how she knew. You were starting to realize that Urumi just… knew things. About places. People. Vents. Pocky stash locations.
[ of course she does, she’s just awesome like that ]
Anyways, though, luckily, the trek there wasn’t long, though you winced every time your leg flared with pain. Urumi walked beside you—not doting, not hovering, but aware. She didn’t offer to carry you or anything dramatic like that. She just adjusted her pace to match yours, wordlessly.
And when you stumbled once, her hand caught your elbow and steadied you like it was second nature. Like she already knew your center of gravity better than you did.
[ MY GIRL OH MY GOD, I need a knight in shining armour to catch me when I fall like that too‼️‼️‼️ ]
Urumi unzipped her satchel and casually pulled out two slightly crushed snack boxes. “Today’s dinner,” she said, holding up the red foil packet. “Strawberry Pocky. Vintage.”
You blinked. “How the hell do you still have that?”
[ literally, same exact reaction ]
“I hide things better than I hide feelings,” she said with a crooked grin. “And I hide feelings very well.”
You laughed, gently, and took one of the sticks she held out. Your fingers brushed. Hers were warm.
[ her hands would—FOR SURE—be warm, especially compared to mine, my hands are always SO cold due to poor blood circulation. ]
The first bite was sweet and artificial and perfect. The kind of taste that reminded you—somehow—of life before this place.
“Don’t inhale it all,” she warned, nudging your shoulder as she opened a small container of what looked like broken, buttery cookies. “I’m sharing this with you even though you ran directly into a tripwire back there.”
“I dodged it,” you said around a mouthful of Pocky.
“Barely. You flailed.”
“I didn’t flail.”
I 100% would have
“You made a noise.”
[ I would’ve SCREAMED, so it’s only fair to point it out ]
“I got startled!”
She bit into a cookie, smiling against it. “It was cute.”
[ I LOVE YOU OH MY GOD BE MY WIFE 💍💍💍👰♀️👰♀️💒 ]
You looked over at her. Her eyes were closed, lips tinted faintly pink from the candy, her knees pulled loosely to her chest.
The quiet made you bold. “Why do you always smile like that?” you asked softly. “Even when things are going to hell.”
She opened her eyes slowly and looked at you. “Because if I don’t smile,” she said, “I’ll think too much. And if I think too much, I’ll panic. And panicking’s not cute.”
[ she’s cute either way, OH MY GODDDD, I love when she’s showing her true colours. ]
That answer should’ve made you laugh. But it didn’t. Because something in her voice told you that was the truth. You didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then you leaned in just slightly and bumped your shoulder against hers. “I’m glad you didn’t panic,” you said quietly. “Because I needed you today.”
[ I would need her every because I am extremely codependent ]
[ BRING URUMI BACK 2025!!!! ]
Her expression flickered—like a spark in the dark. She didn’t smile this time. Not the usual cheeky grin, at least. Just something softer. Tired.
She reached into the Pocky box, pulled out another stick, and offered it to you with a lopsided look. “I’ll take that as a thank-you. Feed me this one.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
So you did. You gently lifted the stick and held it toward her. She leaned forward without breaking eye contact, bit down, and took it from your fingers in one slow move.
When she sat back, she smiled again. “Romantic.”
“Teeth kind of ruined it.”
“You love it.”
You hated how much she was right.
[ I love how fluffy this is, the concept of feeding someone with so much love and care just melts my heart 😭😭🩷 ]
The two of you sat in the dim light of the backroom for a while, trading snacks and sharing body heat and dumb little jokes that didn’t mean much but also kind of meant everything. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t confessional.
But when Urumi let her head tip to the side and rest on your shoulder—that felt like a secret.
And when she whispered, just barely audible:“…Don’t die in the next one, okay?”
You whispered back, “Only if you don’t.”
And she murmured, eyes already half-closed:“Deal.”
In a world where everything was cruel and loud and fast, this moment was none of those things.
It was soft. Safe. And, for once…sweet.
OVERALL REVIEW —
I absolutely ADORED this, to the point it almost feels like saying I adored or loved this is undermining how much I actually enjoyed reading it. this is incredibly in character, especially for how little content we have of her and you never before writing her. just from the bits of info you and I have discussed of her, I think you did a WONDERFUL job!
it’s only fair you’ll receive a chishi fic in the near future! <3
Haaaiii luvies!! this is for the bestest friend ever (i'd say we're friends <3),, they're fr the #1 urumi fan and idc i ship urumi x igi so bad!!!!!!!!!!)!))))!!!! Soooosssososoo,,, this is for them!!!!!!
TYPE: urumi x reader (no use of y/n.), gender neutral!reader, fluff, borderlands au (after a game.)
WARNINGS: brief mention of blood, injury, and death. small kiss,,, obsession with strawberry pocky—and just cuties <3 idk lmk if i forgot anything???
pocky crumbs and sweet kisses, at least you survived.
The game ends with the sound of the siren crackling into silence.
You’re still alive. Barely.
Your hands are scraped, your clothes half torn, and your lungs ache like they forgot how to breathe in panic mode. Your legs are jelly, your body buzzing with leftover adrenaline, but your eyes sweep the space for one thing.Or one person.
“Urumi…?”
You spot her near the edge of the collapsed scaffolding—standing there like it hadn’t even happened, like she hadn’t just dodged death twice with nothing but a flick of her smile and a switchblade.
She’s stretching her arms above her head, yawning like she’s bored. She’s smiling. Of course she is.
“You look like shit,” she says cheerfully.
Your breath hitches in a half-laugh. “Thanks.”
“I mean it in a flattering way.” She turns, brushing dust from her coat. “Kind of a rugged, tragic hero thing.”
You roll your eyes, wobbling a bit as you step closer. The gash on your leg stings with every movement.
She notices. Her smile fades a little. “You’re bleeding.”
You glance down. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”
She walks over, and suddenly she’s right in front of you—close enough to smell the faint, sharp tang of metal on her clothes. Her fingers reach out to gently pull your pants away from the wound. Her touch is light. Delicate, even. You’re not used to her being delicate.
“You okay?” she asks, voice soft now. Real.
“…Yeah. Are you?”
She hums thoughtfully, then grins. “Mostly annoyed you didn’t duck faster.”
You snort. “I didn’t realize you cared about my ducking speed.”
“Oh, I don’t,” she says, brushing hair from your face in a way that betrays the words. “But I was sort of planning on flirting with you after this, and it’s harder to do that when you’re dead.”
Your heart stutters in your chest. Wait, what?You blink. “You were what?”
She grins wider. That smug, sweet curve of her lips. “Mm. I mean, if you died, it’d be a huge waste of all the tension we’ve been building, don’t you think?”
You don’t know what to say. Your brain is still trying to catch up.
She leans in slightly, still watching you with that glint in her eye. She always looks like she’s in on a joke no one else gets. It used to annoy you. Now it’s just… her. And somehow it makes you feel safer.
“You’re really full of yourself, huh?” you murmur.
“Only a little,” she says, her voice dropping a bit. “But I’m usually right.” Her expression softens, the playful spark still there—but behind it, something honest. Something vulnerable, maybe.
She reaches out again, slower this time, and her fingers brush lightly under your chin. “I meant it, though,” she says. “I was scared. When I couldn’t see you in the smoke.”
Your throat tightens. “…I was scared too,” you admit.
“Thought I lost you.”
Something shifts between you, the space shrinking without either of you moving much at all. She doesn’t rush it—just watches your expression, eyes flicking between yours like she’s reading the fine print of your soul.
And then, slowly, she leans in. Not fast. Not desperate. Just soft. Intentional. Like she’s giving you time to stop her—like she knows you won’t.
And you don’t.
Her lips touch yours in a kiss that’s all warmth and quiet, laced with something tender that makes your knees a little weaker. It’s not a performance. It’s not teasing. It’s real.
She pulls back after a few seconds, still so close you can feel her breath.
“…Told you I’d flirt with you.”
You stare at her. “That was more than flirting.”
Urumi gives you a smile that’s both proud and soft. “I’m good at escalation.”
You laugh—fully this time, a little dizzy with adrenaline and affection. “You’re insane.”
“Mmm. Maybe. But I’m still your type.”
You should be annoyed. You really should. But instead, you take her hand, squeeze it gently, and shake your head with a grin.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “you kind of are.”
And for once in the Borderlands, it feels like surviving wasn’t just about living—it was about getting to this moment.
With her. With that stupid, beautiful smile.
──── ୨୧ ────
It was Urumi who suggested they find a place to hide out for the night. “There’s a shuttered café nearby,” she said, casually inspecting her nails like she hadn’t just kissed you senseless. “Hard to break into unless you know which vent to crawl through. Lucky for you… I do.”
You didn’t ask how she knew. You were starting to realize that Urumi just… knew things. About places. People. Vents. Pocky stash locations.
Anyways, though, luckily, the trek there wasn’t long, though you winced every time your leg flared with pain. Urumi walked beside you—not doting, not hovering, but aware. She didn’t offer to carry you or anything dramatic like that. She just adjusted her pace to match yours, wordlessly.
And when you stumbled once, her hand caught your elbow and steadied you like it was second nature. Like she already knew your center of gravity better than you did.
The café was small. Dusty. Forgotten. Cracked tiles and broken chairs, but the backroom was intact—warm enough to keep the chill off, and quiet in that rare kind of way. Like the world had been paused.
You both sat on a pile of worn blankets that someone, somewhere, had left behind.
Urumi unzipped her satchel and casually pulled out two slightly crushed snack boxes. “Today’s dinner,” she said, holding up the red foil packet. “Strawberry Pocky. Vintage.”
You blinked. “How the hell do you still have that?”
“I hide things better than I hide feelings,” she said with a crooked grin. “And I hide feelings very well.”
You laughed, gently, and took one of the sticks she held out. Your fingers brushed. Hers were warm.
The first bite was sweet and artificial and perfect. The kind of taste that reminded you—somehow—of life before this place.
“Don’t inhale it all,” she warned, nudging your shoulder as she opened a small container of what looked like broken, buttery cookies. “I’m sharing this with you even though you ran directly into a tripwire back there.”
“I dodged it,” you said around a mouthful of Pocky.
“Barely. You flailed.”
“I didn’t flail.”
“You made a noise.”
“I got startled!”
She bit into a cookie, smiling against it. “It was cute.”
Your cheeks flushed. You didn’t respond. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It never was with her. It felt… settled. Like the storm had passed and now there was only this strange little calm where you sat beside someone who, for whatever reason, made the end of the world feel a little less lonely.
You looked over at her. Her eyes were closed, lips tinted faintly pink from the candy, her knees pulled loosely to her chest.
The quiet made you bold. “Why do you always smile like that?” you asked softly. “Even when things are going to hell.”
She opened her eyes slowly and looked at you. “Because if I don’t smile,” she said, “I’ll think too much. And if I think too much, I’ll panic. And panicking’s not cute.”
That answer should’ve made you laugh. But it didn’t. Because something in her voice told you that was the truth. You didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then you leaned in just slightly and bumped your shoulder against hers. “I’m glad you didn’t panic,” you said quietly. “Because I needed you today.”
Her expression flickered—like a spark in the dark. She didn’t smile this time. Not the usual cheeky grin, at least. Just something softer. Tired.
She reached into the Pocky box, pulled out another stick, and offered it to you with a lopsided look. “I’ll take that as a thank-you. Feed me this one.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
So you did. You gently lifted the stick and held it toward her. She leaned forward without breaking eye contact, bit down, and took it from your fingers in one slow move.
When she sat back, she smiled again. “Romantic.”
“Teeth kind of ruined it.”
“You love it.”
You hated how much she was right.
The two of you sat in the dim light of the backroom for a while, trading snacks and sharing body heat and dumb little jokes that didn’t mean much but also kind of meant everything. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t confessional.
But when Urumi let her head tip to the side and rest on your shoulder—that felt like a secret.
And when she whispered, just barely audible:“…Don’t die in the next one, okay?”
You whispered back, “Only if you don’t.”
And she murmured, eyes already half-closed:“Deal.”
In a world where everything was cruel and loud and fast, this moment was none of those things.
Read it once in your life, and never regret it. ✋✅
Do you feel bored of the posts asking for help from Gaza? You’re right, but imagine our situation as we live this war day after day for 13 months. Do you think we’re tired too?!!
Asking for help is not easy; it’s very embarrassing, especially for a family that used to live a decent life. My husband and I completed our university education with distinction, worked in respectable jobs, and were used to helping others, not asking for help. But the war has turned our lives into a nightmare; we lost our home, our sources of income, and even our ability to provide the simplest of needs.
I'm Hanan. For the past 13 months, we have been struggling to get healthy food and medicine for my child, whose weak body was attacked by infection, and for my elderly mother-in-law, who fell into a coma for several days and almost lost her life due to anemia caused by our inability to provide healthy food, as prices have risen more than 10 times. Now, we have run out of everything. While you are reading my message, my family and I are trying to survive amidst all kinds of suffering.
What was once a beautiful dream and reality has now become a nightmare. Starvation is one thing, but starving, freezing, and being forced to flee in the middle of the night when tanks suddenly arrive in your area, running for your life and your family’s life under fire, leaving behind everything you built over the years, and returning after 5 months of suffering in displacement and tents to find that your home, where you lived your happiest moments, is nothing but rubble, is something completely different! 💔😓
Can you feel my broken heart now? Can you imagine what I’m going through at this moment? Everything I am living now cannot be described with words, and every moment here is filled with pain and fear. We desperately need your help, as we live in hope of escaping Gaza to save our lives and live safely away from the explosions.
You might feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you can certainly save my family. We appeal to your compassionate hearts to help us escape this catastrophe, which the human mind cannot even fathom.
Please share our campaign with your family and friends. This will help us reach those who can help us directly. Be the reason to bring hope back to our hearts ♥️✨
I am an American, Greg Lewin in Minneapolis, who made contact with a… Gregory Lewin needs your support for Donate to Save Hanan Al-Salou
$4,991 USD raised of $30,000goal
Or donate via PayPal
I will be honored to follow me on Instagram
Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #152 )
🍡 ꒦꒷ Indigo .ᐟ @mindweaverss - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
