⚠️The cursed war destroyed my home after my beautiful little girl was trying to recover from autism and practicing her mental therapy exercises within the Red Crescent program. Her nervous attacks intensified, so I cannot provide painkillers and Speed Pan pills. She screams at night to make us feel that she is tired of life😭 and complains of weak immunity and chronic kidney failure💔
What is happening in Gaza is not just a war, it is a genocide and an ongoing massacre that is wiping out families and homes. We are innocent and have lost our homes, and the street has become our place.🌿 No one will give you a piece of cloth to put on the sand. We want peace and to return to complete the treatment of my disabled daughter.🥹 If you can sleep, I am crying because of my inability to meet the needs of my family. I will pray for you in my prayers. Do not hesitate to donate and participate🌸
I love my little babies. I wanna snuggle them all. Sure, they're strong rugged military men but they're my pookie baby bears 😭💖
Hereby requesting friends in the COD community who will understand my brainrot and talk about those sweet baby boys and our OCs together. Please and thank you.
I write agere and petre content and head cannons. I do not write age play.
I also will write NSFW stuff, and it will be labeled as mature content and will be tagged appropriately. If anytime I make an NSFW post and it's not labeled mature, please let me know so I can fix it asap!
The Fandoms I write for rn are:
Call of duty
Welcome home
911
Criminal minds
Will edit if I think I need to add more :)
(Not really proof read, just a silly drabble of little 141)
Price loves his boys. Strong, resilient, and capable, they were a perfect team. And an even better family. They mostly lived together. It was easier than renting out places that you aren't going to be living in during deployment. Price bought a modest farm house on an ache of land. Privacy, room to move and work out.
Room to play. Sure, if someone looked at Price's backyard, they'd be convinced he ran a small day care of 20 very big toddlers. But in reality, he and the boys had spent time building an elaborate playground for them to use when they regressed.
Swings, monkey bars, a small platform that had two slides, and a fireman pole. Price had to do a lot of research, and spent a lot of time tinkering and self testing, managed a small merry go round that could fit all four boys. Of course, the playground was a big hit, but outdoor time was always a given with the regressed boys.
Today, even Gaz was regressed, eagerly helping Roach climb up the platform stairs to the slide. Price watches happily, ready to settle down on his chair under the umbrella when he notices Ghost on his own in the swings. The little one sat alone, everyone more eager to run around and play, but he wanted to swing, wiggling and kicking his legs weakly to get some momentum.
"Oh bub.." Price coos softly under his breath, setting his lemonade down and starting to walk over. "What's going on here, little one?" He asks lovingly, crouching down on front of him. Simon let out a huff, a whine, and his pout pushes his pacifier against his mask. "Ah.. understood. Want me to give you a push?" He offers, smiling softly.
Simon smiles a little, nodding happily and reaching out to rub Price's beard. "Mm! Mmhmm!" He hums, stimming excitedly as his Papa gets up and starts to pull the swings chain back. Simon had spent so much of his childhood, so much of his life, being misunderstood, being left alone, and being told he was a burden when he couldn't communicate.
But now, it was like Price could take one look into his eyes, listen to one hum, and he knew what Simon needed. Price, let's go of the chain, grinning at the squeal Simon let's out as he swings forward. Price is careful not to let him go too high. Sometimes, Simon would accidentally lose grip on the chain, falling out of the swings. So until Price could finish the swings with a seat belt, he was going to stay close to the ground.
He looks over at the play structure, watching Johnny happily climbing around on the moneky bars. He knew he should be worried that he was crawling on all fours above the monkey bars, but there was no point in getting him to stop. If anything, Johnny could fall off, take a small breather, and after a few hugs and kisses, would go back to doing it. As if sensing Price's eyes on him, he looks over and grins.
"Hi Papa!!" He squeals before going back to concentrate on his crawling. Kyle was watching Roach come down the slide, helping the little one back onto his feet when he reached the bottom of the slide.
Simon let's out another happy squeal as he swings, making a small grunt sound that sound like he needed a break. Price holds onto the chains and helps him slow to a start, rubbing his back softly and kneeling beside him. "What's up, button?" He asks softly, Simon hums quietly with a little shrug. "Wanna go play now? Feel ready?" He offers, seeing a little smile from under his balaclava.
"Si! Wanna play?" Johnny asks, standing beside the swing out of nowhere. Price never fails to be amazed how quietly his boys can move, even when regressed. Simon squeaks happily, nodding a little as he climbs to his feet and toddles after the Scott. Price watches with a smile, staring at the scene in front of him before heading back to his chair.
They'd be napping good tonight.
For your information, in Gaza we don't eat chicken, meat, vegetables, fruits, eggs, fish, milk, yogurt, cheese, and the list goes on... Most people don't have flour, sugar, ghee, oil, thyme, or even work... The list goes on and no one has gas or electricity, and the list goes on... And people are still living, and when I ask them how they are, they say "Thank God." Don't these people deserve support and respect? Don't we deserve to live?
Help me provide bread for my children, it costs $500. I trust your generosity and humanity.
Caregiver! Price who isn't as strict as you'd expect, except for with routine. Morning routine, night routine, nap times, mealtimes, and clean ups, he's on top of it all. He knows his boys need and do well with routine, so he makes sure to keep one. Also a big fan of sticker charts and treasure box treats.
Caregiver! Price who has learned how to cook at least minimally so his babies aren't eating microwave meals and MREs. He knows a few basic casseroles, and how to cook up veggies so that they get eaten.
Caregiver! Price who is great at soothing his boys no matter what. Nightmares? He's singing a lullaby and letting them cuddle in bed with him. Trauma induced regression? He's there for it with no judgment. Baby being just plain fussy? They get swaddled up and rocked in his rocking chair, being told a story.
Caregiver! Price who knows what it feels like to want love, attention, and care, so he works to provide that for his boys when they regress. He makes sure to have one on one outings with them. Making sure it's within their interests. Art classes at the library for Soap, puppet shows for Simon, and interactive museums for Gaz.
Caregiver! Price that never uses call signs or even real names with his boys. When they are little, it's either a shortened version of their name or a nickname.
Caregiver! Price who can't help but spoil his little ones a little A LOT, with toys they never had or lost during childhood, coloring books, movies, and even stuffed animals (the big ones that are practically body pillows) his boys can't have the full comfort of a nursery, and it's hard to find onesies that fit, so he makes up for it anyway he can.
Caregiver! Price, who was never able to settle down and have kids, realized that having his boys to take care of was just as fulfilling.
Oh... I love this and I will write about this soon
TF 141. Indoor trampolines.
SOMEONE WRITE SOMETHING PLEASE I BEG YOU!!
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 know this blog isn't YouTube related, but I'd really appreciate it if you could check out my YouTube channel. I make a lot of ramble videos talking about whatever.
I use the same name for all social media, but this is my newest video. Thank you! If you have the chance, check it out. I appreciate it.
You're resident jester, who is finally starting to write again. Here lies my brain rot. 22, Occasional NSFT content, MDNI
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