#is new it’s speaks of the beauty of the world it speaks of love and friendship it’s excitement and awe and joy ANS I REALLT LIKE IR OKAY

[love44lew]

everywhere, as long as its with you

彡drivers franco colapinto

彡genre spanish speaking reader! x franco colapinto, fic/smau

彡summary your boyfriend became an f1 driver, now you travel the world with him

彡notes im still pretty new to making smaus so please excuse the lack of order ToT.. i was also thinking about turning this into like a mini series since i ended up liking the plot more than expected while wring. let me know what you guys think!! other than that, thank you for reading ♡︎

you’re sitting on the knitted hanging chair outside your boyfriends argentina home, the sunset view was always so beautiful from this view—especially because he lived in the mountains where you could see everything. theres not a place in the world you would rather be. with your digital camera you snap a photo of the sunset, the quality of the camera giving the view a nostalgic feel. you close your eyes and take in the breeze brushing past your skin.

———

yourusername

location: puerto iguazú, argentina

yourusername digital camera in 🇦🇷❣️

liked by francolapinto, mailiaamour, and 23.856 others

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francolapinto ahh taking pictures behind my back !?

yourusername @/francolapinto sorry baby 🤫❤️

———

then you hear loud heavy footsteps scurrying from inside the house, causing you to open your eyes open again, glance around, roll them and then close them again. you sat peacefully for a total of five seconds before a frantic franco screams your name from inside the house, causing you to wince at the sudden noice.

“come!! quickly!” franco rushed you into the house. the two of you sat at the dinner table, you still didnt know what was happening but franco was getting a phone call and his leg was bouncing anxiously. “que??” you questioned, he quickly shushed you as he picked up the phone. you rolled your eyes, why did he call you all the way here if he was just gonna want you to be quiet. but also if he did, it must be a really important call.

he put the phone on speaker and placed it down on the table.

“is this franco alejandro colapinto?” a calm soft voice spoke from the other line.

“yes, this is him” franco said in his best english he can muster.

“you are being summoned by williams to attend the british grand prix, you will be driving in fp1.” franco silently looked at you with complete and utter shock in his eyes.

“are you available to attend?” the person asked from the other line in contrary to francos silence.

he searched for reassurance in your eyes, you nodded your head at him pointing to the phone.

“uh.. y-yes!—mm” he cleared his throat “yes, i am” he rephrased in a more collected tone. he couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything he’d gone through—everything he’s sacrificed, everything his family sacrificed, to get to this point. he’d finally made it, even if it was just for fp1, it could possibly lead to him being in a seat one day. franco finished up the phone call, his composure holding on to a thread the whole time until he finally hung up.

immediately he stood up and scooped you into his arms. he tightly held you, taking in your scent and everything you are. he’d finally done it, and he couldn’t have without your help and encouragement. when times got tough, when it felt like he’d never make it, there you were to push him on and make him feel good about himself again. he genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do or where he’d be without you. he cupped your face, his lips clashing with yours into a passionate and loving kiss. the way he kisses you always sends tingles down your spine—the softness of his touches compared to the way his mouth moves against yours. you could feel how much he loves you in every kiss, touch, or words he speaks. his love for you is only in the purest form.

“té quiero, mi amor” his eyes gazed lovingly into yours as your lips detached from each other, his thumbs softly caressing your face, taking in every feature that he loved so dearly.

“im so so proud of you papasito” you wiped the incoming tears that dared to flow down his rosy cheeks. your heart has always been with him and his goals, to see him succeed like this—even if its as little as free practice, it was another door opened for your talented man.

“venga conmigo” franco proposed, the heat of the moment seeming like a perfect time. he couldnt just leave you behind, after everything you’ve done?? he’d want you to be there the most.

“wh- what!?? thats crazy!!” you halfheartedly giggled, only response you could muster from how insane his suggestion was.

“why not? you’re always there for everything else, why not be there for the most special moment? cmon.” his puppy dog eyes are ones you could bear to refuse, his cheeks and nose reddened from all the excitement and happiness he feels. so, you agreed to go. youre his rock in all this, his biggest supporter. why wouldnt he want his favorite cheerleader to go and continue to push him on? plus, youve never been to london.

———

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—

franco went on to place p11 in his first race after london, which you were extremely proud of him. to be so close to points in a backmarker team was, to say the least, impressive. you always knew he had it in him but for his first time ever racing as an f1 drivers against the other 19 best in the world? a blessed experience.

[childrenofcain-if]

Hello beautiful Author!! I hope u are doing well! So basically I am a religious follower of your blog and uuugghh!!! This story is so beautifully crafted like the script the writing style the plot even the characters seem larger than life. Honestly u have my tremendous respect and admiration.... Also I am totally in love with cedric!! angsty adorable and hot. So since today is my birthday I decided to treat myself to a snippet ... Can u please write a fluff scene where in the future after marriage yk after C achieved his dream how would M!C react to find out that F!MC is pregnant. What kind of dad would he be and how would he handle the news especially if it's a girl. (PS: I love you okay? U rock!!! ❤❤😘)

the morning started like most mornings did in your household. the sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your manhattan penthouse, muted by the heavy curtains cédric insisted on keeping drawn just enough to keep the room from feeling exposed.

he was already in the kitchen when you woke up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he frowned at his ipad.

it was a weekday, which meant cédric was doing what cédric did best: handling things.

the man could command a room full of board members or negotiate a multi-billion-dollar deal, but he always took his mornings slow, like it was his personal rebellion against the world which demanded his attention. the smell of coffee hung thick in the air, and you could hear him muttering under his breath—half in french, half in english—as he skimmed over some report.

he looked up when he heard your footsteps. the cold glint in his pale green eyes softened the way they always did when he saw you.

“good morning, mon amour,” he said, setting the ipad down as if the numbers and charts weren’t important anymore.

you smiled at him, but there was a nervous flutter in your chest that didn’t quite dissipate.

“good morning,” you greeted back, making your way to the counter. “we need to talk.”

his brow furrowed, just slightly, in that way that meant his mind was already cataloging possible scenarios. you wondered if he was running through a mental checklist: a problem at work, an overdue bill, a delayed package. he was always looking for answers before you even finished your question.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and calm, but his hand twitched where it rested on the counter.

you hesitated, suddenly unsure how to say it. for someone who had spent years speaking in boardrooms and drafting persuasive arguments, the words felt clumsy in your throat.

“there’s nothing wrong, per se,” you began, and you saw the tension in his shoulders ease—just a fraction. “it’s just... i’m pregnant.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. it was like the air had stilled, waiting for his reaction.

cédric blinked. once, twice. then he stepped back, leaning against the counter as if the weight of your words had hit him square in the chest. his mouth opened, then closed again. he looked—if you hadn’t known him better—younger. like a boy caught off guard, unsure of whether he was allowed to feel what he was feeling.

“you’re...?” he started, and then he stopped himself. his hand went to his hair, brushing the dark brown strands back, a nervous habit he’d never managed to shake. “you’re sure?”

you nodded, suddenly shy. “i took three tests. all positive. i was going to wait until we were both home later tonight, but—”

“no, no, now is perfect,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended, like he was scolding you for even considering keeping it from him. he shook his head, and you could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “mon dieu.”

cédric laughed then, a sound so rare and so unguarded it made your chest ache. it was a laugh of disbelief, of joy, of sheer and unrestrained emotion. he crossed the kitchen in two long strides and pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could feel his heart pounding against your ribs.

“je t’aime,” he murmured into your hair. “je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.”

you clung to him, laughing through the tears that had started spilling down your cheeks.

***

cédric’s reaction to the pregnancy didn’t end that morning. over the next few weeks, he threw himself into preparing for the baby with the same intensity he brought to his work. he was meticulous, obsessive even, researching everything from cribs to car seats. he vetoed three potential pediatricians before you’d even had a chance to meet them, insisting that only the best would do.

but it wasn’t just about the logistics. cédric was unexpectedly tender, in a way that made your heart twist. he read parenting books in bed at night, one hand on your growing belly as he absently stroked his thumb over the fabric of your pajamas. he brought you tea without being asked, stocked the pantry with your favorite snacks, and refused to let you carry anything heavier than a shopping bag.

when you found out the baby was a girl, it felt like the world completely shifted for him.

“it’s a girl,” you had informed him, holding the ultrasound picture out to him.

he took it from your hands carefully, as if it were made of glass, and stared at it for a long moment. his expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his fingers trembled, just slightly.

“a daughter,” he said, the words thick in his throat. “our daughter.”

you nodded with a small smile, watching him carefully. “how do you feel about that?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he set the picture down on the table and turned to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver.

“i’m going to protect her,” cédric said, his voice low and fierce. “from everything. from everyone. she’ll never have to wonder if she’s loved. she’ll never have to fight for what’s hers.”

“i can already see it,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you’ll be the dad who scares off all her partners.”

“damn right i will,” he said, his smile returning. “she’s going to know her worth. and if anyone tries to undermine that—” he didn’t finish the sentence, but the murderous look in his eyes said enough.

you leaned forward, cupping his cheek and drawing him back to you. “she’ll know her worth because of you,” you said softly. “because of how much you’ll love her.”

“and her mother,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

he kissed you then, slow and lingering, and when he pulled back, his hands settled gently over your stomach.

you reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “she’s going to be so lucky to have you.”

cédric shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to your belly. “i’m the lucky one.”

***

as the months went on, cédric proved himself to be everything you’d hoped for and more. he was attentive to a fault, sometimes to the point of driving you mad with his insistence on helping you. ehen the baby kicked for the first time, he was right there, his hand pressed against your stomach, his eyes wide with wonder.

when your due date finally arrived, he was the calmest one in the delivery room. he held your hand through every contraction (even when you almost broke his bones), whispered words of encouragement in your ear, and refused to leave your side, even when the nurses told him to give you space.

and when your daughter was finally born, cédric was the first to hold her, much to your father’s exasperation. he cradled her tiny, wrinkled body in his arms, his expression soft and awestruck.

“she’s perfect,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

you smiled, exhausted but deliriously happy. “she has your eyes.”

“and a head full of your hair,” he said, his voice breaking.

in that moment, you knew without a doubt that he would be the kind of father who would move mountains for his daughter. he would be firm but fair, protective but not overbearing, and endlessly devoted to her happiness.

as he rocked her gently, humming a lullaby under his breath, you realized that this—your little family—was everything you’d ever wanted. and as much as you knew about how cédric wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions, it was clear as day right now that nothing would ever compare to the love he had for the two of you.

[marchofmistria]

Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

[monstrousproductions]

Looking at the notes it looks like we might have quite similar tastes! I don't really watch TV or films if I can help it so I've got nothing on that front but for books:

The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin; set in a world with one continent, where earthquakes are a fact of life. Society is split into different castes and communities, and the "untouchable" class equivalent are people with the ability to magically control earthquakes. Some CWs apply - it's a heavy, brutal series - so hmu if you need any more info before diving in. But it's absolutely wonderful, and the audiobooks are amazing, read by Robin Miles. I also recommend The City We Became (lighter SF about the city of New York developing avatars of each of its boroughs to fight an external threat) and How Long Til Black Future Month (collection of SFF short stories) by her.

Flux by Jinwoo Chong - another great audiobook, read by David Lee Huynh. A young man obsessed with an outdated TV detective takes on a job at a strange organisation where he doesn't really know what he's doing or why. Really beautiful writing and a fascinating exploration of identity and technology.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb - I obsessed about this so much when I first read it, I don't think I'll ever stop recommending it. Riffing on Jewish folklore, it tells the story of an angel and a demon travelling from the Pale of Settlement to America in c.1911 to follow after the young people of their shtetl. Wicked funny, queer and joyful, and Donald Corren's performance in the audiobook is perfectly dry and sharp.

The Heavens by Sandra Newman - a woman in an ideal future timeline dreams about being another woman in Elizabethan/Jacobean England. She realises that the events in her dreams are affecting her waking reality, changing time and bringing that timeline closer and closer to our own. Made me cry (complimentary)

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel - rec depends on how up to it you're feeling re. pandemic fiction. Written before COVID but weirdly prescient, it follows a travelling group of actors in a world decimated by a virulent coronavirus outbreak, hopping back and forth in time to bring different characters from past and present and tie them all together.

The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie - a fantasy retelling of Hamlet, clearly inspired by the use of second-person in the Fifth Season. A world where gods are a fact of life, and where gods speak reality into being. One of Leckie's stronger efforts since Ancillary Justice (first of the Imperial Radch series which I loooove), I remember gasping out loud at a particular reveal at the end. Protag is a trans man which is fun, and the audiobook is read by Adjoa Andoh who can do no wrong.

The Traitor Baru Cormorant (I think just called The Traitor in the UK edition) by Seth Dickinson - about a woman in a "fantasy" world (I don't think there's any actual magic??) whose culture is dominated by an expansionist empire and who vows to take the empire down from within. Totally gripping, can't wait to read the rest in the series.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susannah Clarke - I saw you'd read Piranesi, and idk if you've read this one yet but I loved it. Set in an alternate Regency England where magic has long been part of British culture, but has all but faded by the time the novel starts. It's a pure brick of a book with nested footnotes and stories within stories, so not for the faint-hearted, but the world is rich and realised and it's brilliantly funny in places. Audiobook is wonderful!

Looking for media recs. Any format. Any genre that isn't romance or erotica.

[angelasscribbles]

What Could Have Been: A Bad Romance One-Shot

Series: What If but more specifically Maximum Damage (the alternate ending)

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing for this chapter: Liam x Max (now), Liam x Riley (past), Riley x Max (past)

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: character death mentioned.

Word Count:  812

A/N: This was written in response to an ask from @kyra75 for the angstgiving event hosted by @choicesprompts. The request was for the prompt "What could have been" and was specifically for the Bad Romance gang. Since BR had a happily ever after, I couldn't come up with a good, angsty what could have been until the alternate ending popped into my head. Once it did, this just suddenly existed in my head and I had to write it.

My other stuff: Master List.

The crown princess of Cordonia was getting married to the love of her life. It was a watershed moment in her life. All of Cordonia would be watching as she walked down the aisle.

The king was sure that there had never been a prouder father in the history of the world. His little princess was all grown up. She was happy. She was radiant. She looked just like her mother.

He turned his head to observe his queen. The years hadn’t dimmed her beauty one bit. She was as beautiful as the day he’d first lain eyes on her in that bar in New York.

Liam had been born into wealth, and raised to rule, but the greatest privilege of his life had been raising their daughter. It didn’t matter that biologically speaking; she was Drake’s daughter. Her DNA didn’t matter.

Drake. The best friend he’d ever had. His childhood companion. His partner in crime. His closest confidant. His brother.

“Don’t get too sentimental. You promised her you wouldn’t cry.” Drake smiled at him from the seat on the other side of Riley.

“How can I help it?” Liam responded as tears slipped down his cheek. “You’re here. You’re both here for her big day.”

“Liam.” Max’s voice intruded on the scene.

Not yet, Max. Just a few more moments.

Riley leaned over and touched his hand. “She’s so lucky to have you. You’ve done a wonderful job. You and Max both. Thank you.”

“Liam. Liam.”

Not yet, Max!

But it was too late. They were already fading.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

“Liam, come on, it’s time to get up.” Max shook him gently by the shoulders. “We don’t want to be late for the wedding.”

Liam blinked against the onslaught of brightness flooding into the royal suite. “Max?”

“Yeah, who else would it be? Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep.”

“I was dreaming, but Max, it seemed so real! I was at the wedding, and Riley was with me! Drake too!”

“Oh, babe.” Max climbed back into the bed and wrapped Liam in his arms and tears sprang into his own eyes. “I miss them too.”

Twenty six years later and he still blamed himself. If only he hadn’t dropped the damn cell phone that day. If only he’d pulled over to the side of the road before trying to call 911. If he’d done that, then Riley and Drake would both still be here. Hope would have her biological parents. Liam would have his queen. He would have his everything.

But that’s not what happened and now all they could do was dream about what could have been.

Liam looked up into his husband’s eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. It was a tragic accident.”

Max smiled through his tears. Of course Liam knew exactly what he was thinking. Liam was the only reason he was alive. Liam had willed him to live and pushed him to walk again.

Getting out of that wheelchair had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Not because of the grueling months of physical therapy, but because he had felt like he deserved to be there. He would never understand why he had Liam’s love and forgiveness when he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he was grateful for it. And he was grateful for the daughter they shared. The one whose heart stopping smile was the spitting image of the woman they had both lost.

“I know,” Max lied. Today was a happy day, not a day to wallow in recriminations. “We both promised Hope that we wouldn’t cry today.”

Liam laughed, a bit of sunshine returning to his life. Max had a way of doing that. “We all knew that was a lie when we said it.”

“Oh, a bald faced lie! She’s our baby girl. Of fucking course we’re going to cry!”

Liam laughed again as the last vestiges of the dream wisped away.

Riley and Drake would be there in spirit. Hope had left two reserved seats empty to represent them.

Hope was what they had left of their lost loved ones. And she had brought exactly that into their lives. Hope was what they had clung to in those early days of grief. She had brought sunshine and joy, laughter, and beauty back into the world.

Drake had certainly named her appropriately all those years ago.

Four hours later, they watched her say I do. They both cried copious amounts, but they were happy tears.

And while they both wished that Riley and Drake were there with them, they were thankful to have each other.

The king glanced at the two empty seats. He swore he could feel them there. Maybe, somehow, in some other existence, they were.

Deep in his heart, Liam believed that somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, what could have been, was.

[vampires-and-dhampirs]

May I request some fluffy marital headcanons for Meier Link and Charlotte? They are my faves but there is so little content about them 😭

this was requested years ago then I disappeared. I'm sorry fam!

Fluffy Material

They literally sleep in the same coffin together. That's actual canon so we already know they are so damn cute together. They cuddling fiends I say. CUDDLING FIENDS!!!

In a perfect world we could have had a cute couple that was insanely wholesome and loving. Meier gets Charlotte fresh flowers regularly. Not just roses, anything beautiful for her. It gets to the point where he has gotten good at making bouquets. When he's feeling daring, he'll decorate their home for the summer with so many flowers to keep it lively for his love.

Meier also became her new hairstylist. He loved seeing her hair done up nicely so he took it upon himself to do it. She loved seeing his creativity but enjoyed the pampering more.

Charlotte being human still has to cook for herself. Meier learns how to catch and skin animals for her so all she needs to do is cook. Somehow this woman has learned to make a mean pot roast. Meier can't taste a thing she makes but he loves the smell of cooked food. Sometimes he's even tempted to try what she makes because everything smells amazing.

Charlotte loves to fly with Meier on occasion. He doesn't go super high or fast, more like a waltz in the air so she can enjoy not touching the ground. They get so lost in their dance that the weightlessness is like how their love for each other feels.

They both are very domestic, Meier has resources enough for them both to live life comfortably together. If they want to travel together they can. If they just want to make more room for their family they can.

He learns a lot more from her now that they live together. Sickness is obviously something that doesn't happens among vampire. Even though he doesn't want to see her sick, he enjoys learning how to take care of her body. What makes her fever drop, what helps her not feel nauseous, what helps her stomach calm down and more. As a vampire he still capable of learning new things, he just kind of sucks at cooking. So at most he can do for her is make tea and soup which is enough for a sick human.

Speaking of human sickness, what the fuck are allergies? You allergic to food? Animals?! That was a new learning experience for Meier. Charlotte was allergic to cats and couldn't eat strawberries. It wasn't hard to not grow strawberries but cats seemed to roam their property every now and then. He had never seen her reactions but she told him what to look out for if she ever had a reaction. Fortunately it was just rashes, itchy eyes, and congestion.

They most certainly made 3 kids and all of them take after Charlotte with each of them having partially white hair. Their parents smother them with affection and appreciation because they love them so much.

Charlotte became the type of mother to not restrict her children too much because her family did that to her and she didn't want them to feel as if they couldn't learn about the world or love who wanted without fear. Meier is the type of father that was always encouraging of his children's passions.

Charlotte and Meier lived a very wholesome loving life with absolutely no issues and Charlotte died of old age since she was not turned into a vampire.

The End

[savingsallow]

— Random Facts About Ale

[get to know this resident lover boy be why tf not]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

(1) Adept Duellist

Alejandro possesses a genuine passion for dueling, viewing it not just as a competition but as an elegant dance of strategy, timing, and skill. His dedication has earned him a reputation as one of the finest duellists at Hogwarts, where the thrill of the match pulses through his veins.

Professor Hecat, with her rigorous training and insightful teachings, is his favorite mentor, inspiring him to refine his craft and embrace the nuances of each duel.

—

(2) Nature Enthusiast

There’s a unique joy Alejandro finds in tending to plants, as it reflects a blend of patience, nurturing, and growth. His fascination began in childhood, where he would assist his mother in cultivating her garden of vegetables and herbs, learning from her both the joy and teachings that come from nature. This bond offered him an appreciation for the slow unfolding of life and the quiet lessons it holds.

In addition to his love for plants, Alejandro has an unwavering affection for animals of all kinds. His 'toxic trait' is his resolute determination to pet any creature he encounters, regardless of how friendly or fearsome it may be. This endearing quality often surprises others, as animals seem instinctively drawn to him, responding to his gentle demeanor and warm presence.

—

(3) Proud Muggle Heritage

Yes, Alejandro proudly identifies as a Muggle-born.

Coming from a religious family that viewed witchcraft with skepticism, Ale's journey into the magical world was complex and fraught with challenges. When his family discovered his powers, instead of rejecting him, they chose to embrace and protect him. They kept his magical abilities confidential from the outside world to shield him from the scrutiny and potential ostracism associated with their religious beliefs.

Once sorted into Slytherin, Alejandro faced the harsh realities of fitting into a house with a reputation for elitism. Enduring taunts of being called a "Mudblood," he worked tirelessly to prove himself in this new environment. His background instilled in him a strong sense of justice; he became a vocal advocate for those who faced discrimination, particularly his fellow Muggles. This commitment often put him at odds with the more traditional values of his peers, showcasing his bravery and integrity.

—

(4) Aspiring Poet

When he finds a moment of solitude, Ale often turns to his journal to express his thoughts and feelings through poetry. This creative outlet serves as a refuge, allowing him to unwind and examine the intricate tapestry of emotions swirling within him. Each poem becomes a reflection of his experiences, from the beauty of nature to the complexities of his relationships. This artistic side not only enriches his character but also offers glimpses into his inner life—revealing the layers beneath his charming exterior.

—

(5) Unreturned Affection

(shot by: @acslytherpuff ❤️‍🔥)

Alejandro's heart has long belonged to Val, a deep and unrequited love that shapes much of his emotional landscape.

His infatuation ignited during their fifth-year DADA class when Val triumphantly defeated Sebastian in a duel, a moment that left an indelible mark on him. From that point on, Alejandro yearned to be closer to her, and remarkably, they developed a close friendship that he cherished deeply.

(shot by and mc, alvin, on the left belongs to: @acslytherpuff )

In his quest to spend more time with Val, Alejandro enrolled in flying classes despite his lack of enthusiasm for the subject. His willingness to step out of his comfort zone speaks volumes about his dedication to her—he even joined the Quidditch team, knowing it was close to her heart. Through both joyous times and challenging moments, Alejandro has stood by Val’s side as a steadfast friend, offering support and encouragement, even as his heart ached with unspoken feelings.

Despite the clarity of his emotions, he has refrained from explicitly confessing his love for Val; instead, his actions often speak louder than words. Whenever she’s near, Alejandro is transformed from a suave, flirtatious charmer into a clumsy, endearing mess, making it clear how smitten he is.

His chance at romance nearly materialized during their sixth year, but Garreth's unexpected arrival complicated matters and ignited jealousy in Alejandro, whom he secretly despises. Nevertheless, Alejandro’s selflessness shines through—his newfound angst is tempered by the knowledge that if Val is happy and safe, that’s all that truly matters to him, even if he isn’t the one who makes her feel that way.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[bisnes-socks]

don't mind me, below the cut is just me trying to somehow verbalise how much i love mesto duhov on a molecular and also astral levels and also trying my best to not actually cry about it.

i'm going to start with a weird tangent but.

back in the early days of covid i talked with a friend of mine how the panic around us made us, as deeply anxious people, feel more balanced somehow. she was in france, i was in finland, but the experience was the same: the anxiety in the world suddenly matched the anxiety inside us. it was somehow a new exeprience, to feel at balance, even if the reason for it was not so good.

but this, this song, is a good reason to feel at balance, and good god, that's exactly what this song does to me. i don't know how they made a song that matches something in my soul, but they did. and the reason why i started off with a weird covid tangent is because there is incredible pain in this song that matches something in the feeling of being alive to me. and to have it turned into music and played back to me is a moment of balance unlike any other, because suddenly feeling the things you feel don't make you so unbelievably lonely anymore.

there are other songs in the world that sound and feel like they vibrate in the exact same frequency as my soul, but i haven't discovered a new one in years. but mesto duhov is exactly that.

i don't usually go into joker out lyrics because i don't speak slovene or serbian, and so i leave analysing them to those who do. but this time i just want to say, that i looked up translations and not only does the music vibrate on the frequency of my soul, the lyrics are exactly what i've been feeling, what i've been witnessing, and what i've been working with for a while now. i don't want to go too much into my personal life on tumblr dot com, but the disappearance of imagination, of life, of joy, of things worth living for, are something that i've been working with on every level of my life this year, both on a personal and professional level.

this song is just this exact moment in my life right now. this is it. and it feels so oddly calming to me. because it feels like someone else sees it too.

and it's strange because once again, they have written a song that feels like i've heard it before, but i haven't. i'd know if i had ever heard anything like it, but i haven't. of course i hear the influences, but they feel irrelevant to me with this one. it's like there are moments in the song that almost take me back to like idk 2010 or something, but the nostalgia never gets a hold of me, it doesn't stick. it's almost nostalgic but it isn't, because this is now. it just feels like, when the song comes on, it's just....right. yes, that's the one, that's the song, that's the feeling, this is right.

the contrast between the agony of the verses and the resigned serenity of the pa pa pa pa paa... it's balance, it's right, it's real. it's also brilliant composing and songwriting. this song is so interesting, so captivating, so memorable. it goes from one feeling to another in a way that is striking but makes sense. 

they introduce the intesity of the verses straight off the bat, and then the quieting down and subsequent sudden stop with "pod nogami se trese / zapihal je veter, da vse nas odnese" is actually something quite familiar from rock music - you know to expect something different for the chorus. but you do not know to expect what actually happens, like it's a different song suddenly. and then they build back up to the intensity of the verses with great skill and attention to details and vibes.

the melody in "mimo mene lebdijo sami žalostni ljudje / nazaj v nostalgijo včerajšnjega dne" has to be one of the most beautiful melodies i've heard. something about it feels very familiar, very home-like, just again, very right. but it also makes me instantly emotional, even before i ever read a translation for the lyrics. just the melody alone. and bojan's vocal performance, which is absolutely top tier through the entire song. his ability to convey emotion really comes through with this one, and i'm in awe of him for it.

the instrumentation in the song is just brilliant.  the pa pa pa pa pa section is made up of sounds that bring childrens music into mind, it's full of whimsical and fun sounds, that in this context feel incredibly bittersweet and quite sad. the different guitar sounds and effects in the song, for example the sound that opens the song vs. the solo sound, bring amazing versatility and depth to the straight forward intensity of the verses. the drums portray the frustration and pent-up energy caused by the themes. the bass sound almost cocoons all of it into one and almost makes this song a physical place to exist in.

it's all brilliance from beginning to end. except once again, i wish the song went on much longer, and i miss it as soon as it begins to fade.

and i'm usually not one to loop songs. but this one i'd easliy loop all day, all week, all month, all year, my whole life, because somehow this song makes it easier to be, to breathe, to exist and to make peace with existing. 

needless to say it's my favourite track on the album, my song of the year, and quite possibly one of my favourite songs of all time ever.

[innocentcurse]

There was something in Astrid's voice, a certain vulnerability that made the air feel even quieter, as if the woods themselves were listening. “I think I understand what you mean,” her voice was gentle, filled with the kind of understanding that only comes from someone who’s been touched by the same feeling. "It's beautiful out here." As Astrid’s eyes flickered back to the sketchpad, Evangeline couldn’t help but feel half excited by the prospect of talking about her art, and half bashful about just how frequently she created new pieces - no matter where she was. Evangeline didn't yet speak on the piece, however.

She nodded thoughtfully at the mention of breathing easier. “When things feel too heavy, I've been coming out here, and the weight just… lifts. It’s like the trees remember things for you, or maybe they don’t remember, and that’s the relief," Evangeline paused, letting the air fill the space between them as she thought back to the various spots of a similar nature that she had visited elsewhere in the world. “I think it’s what makes it feel like home to me, even if I’m still finding my place in Cardinal Hill," she added softly.

When Astrid introduced herself, Evangeline’s smile grew warmer, her eyes reflecting a quiet recognition of the trust being offered. “It’s lovely to meet you, Astrid," she said, her voice sincere. "It's always one of the nicest feelings, to be met with understanding and a shared appreciation for something like this," Evangeline's entire life had an underlying focus on people, and the connections that she could make with them; it only made sense for her to feel strongly about sharing understanding and appreciation with others. "I'm Evangeline, sorry, I can't recall whether or not I introduced myself yet," she giggled.

At the mention of her art, Evangeline’s fingers traced the edge of her sketchbook absently, a small smile playing on her seemingly ever smiling lips. “I do love landscapes, there’s something about them, how they’re always shifting, how they interact with every little piece of the overall picture - like puzzle pieces, almost," she wasn't entirely sure if she was making any sense at all. "But I sketch other things too, whatever catches my eye. Most of my work is what I see, I draw from life almost all of the time, I love capturing life, especially in a way that allows me to share insights with those who haven't been able to experience it directly. And looking back, it reminds me of all of the stories I witnessed, and lived,” she looked up at Astrid, half expecting a puzzled look on her face as Evangeline had a habit of rambling in a way that didn't make sense. “Do you make any form of art?”

Astrid listened intently, the other woman’s words settling into the quiet space between them like the gentle rustling of wind through the remaining leaves upon the trees. It was comforting, to find someone else who seemed to understand the peculiar magic of the woods—how it could both soothe and unsettle, pulling at emotions that were often difficult to name. “It makes sense.” She replied softly, her gaze shifting upward to follow that of the other, pausing to note how the canopy of pines swayed overhead. “The forest feels alive in a way most places do not. It sees you, even when you are not looking.”

Ocean hues fell back to the sketchpad, lingering there for a moment longer before flicking up to meet the woman’s gaze. The silent intensity in her companion’s question drew a small pause. “I guess it is.” She admitted, an undertone of reflection amongst the simple agreement. “It is easier to breathe here... It, uh, it reminds me of where I grew up.” There was a weight behind her words, a tether to the life she was pulled from due to her own naivety.

She tilted her head slightly, offering a warm smile that softened the otherwise guarded edges of her demeanor. “My name is Astrid." She opted to introduce, figuring it would be best to continue their conversation with more familiarity than that of mere strangers. "It is nice to meet someone who appreciates the forest as much as I do.” Her gaze dipped briefly toward the sketchpad again, curiosity dancing behind her eyes. “Och even nicer to meet someone who can capture it. Do you usually sketch landscapes, eller…?” She trailed off, leaving the question open should the other wish to answer.

[bywandandsword]

So I was just told something interesting

You know how a lot of these big Victorian houses have seemingly useless railings around windows that are clearly not balconies? Come to find out these sorts of houses were built so that you could close off parts of the house from each other, like if you had guests or were hosting a party or something. But staff still needed to be able to get around so these windows would be large enough that staff could go out one window from one closed off section of the house to the other. It also gave the effect that guests rarely actually saw staff moving around doing day-to-day tasks. And apparently, a lot of these windows had hidden panels that swung out and make it look like the window wasn't there from inside the room When I heard that, I immediately thought about a lot of modern criticism of older novels books that feature wealthier protagonists, who talk about their isolation and loneliness. I've heard people discussing these protagonists say things like "How can you be lonely when you're surrounded by staff? It must be their sense of class that prevents them from seeing the staff as people who they can socialize with". That is absolutely at play, don't get me wrong. But with the windows in mind and the knowledge that one of the marks of a good staff at the time was to be as unseen as possible, I think it's completely possible that these protagonists, and the real people they represented, really DID feel that they were completely alone in their houses. Not only were all these social structures in place to keep them separate from everyone else in the house, but also these physical structures that further limited interaction. Because we no longer build houses like this and a lot of older surviving houses no longer have this feature, it's a bit of context that modern readers aren't aware of

I think it's really interesting, cause it gives a whole new context to these stories and social life in the period, and also makes me wonder about what other context that we're not aware of when looking at history or fiction from previous time periods that would re-frame our understandings of the event of those times

[softquietsteadylove]

hello birdie 🖤✨

If you still take requests: I just saw a new Instagram post from Don Lee with an Hello Kitty umbrella.

So can I ask for some cute Gilgamesh? Maybe with mentioned umbrella.

🖤✨ Hugs and Love ✨🖤

Gil let out a satisfied 'ah!' as he finished his ramyun. He didn't miss Korea when he wasn't here, and he didn't look forward to visiting when they did. But he had to admit that convenience stores back home just couldn't compare to the ones here.

He didn't have to be biding time in a random convenience store. He was still someone of business here. He could have been at a bar, at a restaurant, enjoying a reserved booth at the races. But in truth, he didn't want anything to do with the business here. He didn't want to be associated with his family name.

And he was on vacation.

Thena and Imo were at some spa, enjoying some ladies bonding time. He was happy to leave them to it. He had strolled through some markets, watched tv from the window of a shop like the cranky old men in the neighbourhood. And when it started raining, he came in here.

There were magazines and comics to read, snacks, and eventually he had sat down with a whole cup of noodles--even melted some cheese on it. Thena had limited his home stash of it out of fear for his sodium levels. Men here wouldn't believe it--that a man of business was letting someone control what he ate.

But he liked that his wife wanted him to be in healthy condition.

Gil looked out the window again. It still wasn't letting up. Thena had said she would call him when she and Imo were leaving the place and on their way to pick him up. And it had only been an hour--for all he knew, that kind of thing could take two or three.

"Please!"

Gil turned and looked with wide eyes. The outburst was noticeable in the small store with no one else inside. It was the middle of the day; what was such a tiny voice doing alone?

The cashier shook his head, though. "It's not enough."

There was a little girl standing in front of the counter. She had an umbrella tucked into her elbow, counting out every won she had. "But it's all I have."

Gil got up from the counter, tossing his ramen cup in the trash and straightening his suit jacket. The cashier saw him coming from a mile away and braced himself. He obviously still looked like he was in the business, even with his tattoos as covered as possible. He pointed, "come on, man, isn't it close enough?"

The cashier shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, it's not nearly enough for the umbrella."

Gil leaned over and peeked. He was right, she had barely enough for a musubi and some candy. He looked down at the kid, who looked up at him without an ounce of fear in her eyes. "Is this the one you want?"

She paused for a second, considering what she should tell him. Ultimately, she pointed to the stand with other umbrellas, for kids and adults. "I want that one."

"Which one? Show me," Gil nodded. The kid had no fear of him, though, waddling back to the stand with her current pick. She put that plain pink one back and reached for a hello kitty one.

"This one," she declared, waving it around. It was a little big for her, at her age. Or maybe she was just small, even for a child.

"Yeah?" Gil mumbled. He reached to look at the price of it. He looked down at the kid. "Pretty expensive."

Her little cheeks puffed up indignantly. "But eonni promised if I did her housework while she went out with her friends that she would give me the money for it."

"She did, did she?" Gil chuckled. The girl's sister was a scammer, plain and simple. She'd given her innocent kid sister a few bucks to shut her up and keep her dirty secrets. He pulled the umbrella out of the kid's grasp.

"Hey!"

"Oi, listen," he directed in his best stern Ajushi voice. "First: you're never gonna do anything for your sister again--I don't care what she promises."

"But she has to go shopping every-"

"Ah!" he cut the little girl off. Still, she showed no fear of him. Some annoyance, for sure, but no nerves. He crouched down, pointing his finger in her face. "She doesn't have to do any of that shit. She's lying."

The little girl gasped, hand to her mouth and everything. Probably at both his language and the revelation about her sister.

"No doing anything for her, unless you get the goods, got it?" he smirked. "That means she takes you there and she buys you the thing you want herself. Puts it in your hands, got it?"

The girl let him press the umbrella into both her hands, even shaking her into a little laughter. She nodded sharply, "yes!"

"Second: tell her that just because you have this now, doesn't mean her secrets are safe," Gil continued to advise as he reached into his jacket to pull out his wallet. He never carried cash around at home, but the kid was in luck. "You have what's called leverage: that means you have the advantage. If anything, she should be doing stuff for you."

The cashier watched the exchange nervously. He had his confirmation that Gil wasn't just some well meaning - well dressed - man enjoying a snack.

"And thirdly," Gilgamesh stood but leaned down to hand the kid the money, "tell him you want a receipt."

The girl took his instruction deeply seriously. She stood on her toes to hand the cashier the money (in a denomination she had never seen before). "I'd like a receipt, please."

The cashier nodded, hands shaking as he accepted the bill. He looked at Gilgamesh, silently pleading for help.

Gil narrowed his eyes at the guy. "Give her the change, man."

The girl held out her little hands, accepting the remaining money with starry eyes. "It's so much."

"Keep it," Gil excused easily as he took the umbrella and unwrapped it. "And don't tell your sister--or your parents. That's just for you."

"Thanks Mister!"

"Yeah, yeah," he held his hand to guide the girl out as she shoved the money into the little hello kitty coin purse she had. The automatic doors slid open and he looked back at the cashier, "just take care of her next time she's in here."

The cashier nodded, pale as a ghost.

Gil opened the umbrella over them both. "You like this cat, huh?"

"She's my favourite!"

Gil chuckled. Kids had it so easy. But he liked the idea that the hardest thing in this kid's life was an annoying older sister. He focused on holding the umbrella over his short companion, letting his left side get thoroughly rained on. "You in school?"

"Yeah."

"You good?"

"Hm," the little girl twisted her mouth.

"Yeah, me too," Gil laughed. The girl seemed relieved she wouldn't get a scolding for not being studious. "I wasn't good at math, or science."

She nodded, wide eyed that someone else shared her weakness.

"But that's okay," he shrugged down at her. "Just make a friend who's good at those things who can help you."

"A friend?"

What, did this kid not have friends? Maybe she was too nice and always letting others walk all over her. Gil bent slightly and smiled. "I've got a friend who's super good at math, and science. We work together, and she does way better than I do."

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "We're a great team. And wanna know something?"

The girl nodded, making her pigtails move.

Gil grinned from ear to ear, "she's my wife, now."

"Really?" the kid gasped, her eyes going starry again.

Gil crouched down again, pulling out his phone. "She looks like a princess and everything."

The kid leaned over his phone, her mouth wide open. "She's so pretty!"

"She sure is," Gil huffed with pride in his chest. "She's the prettiest in the whole world. She's coming to pick me up."

"Don't you have your own car?"

What a rude question--he loved it. He stood again, groaning as his knees cracked. "We're here visiting my family. I have a car back home where we live together."

"Ah," the girl nodded, although he kind of felt like she didn't believe him. "Eonni!"

Gil looked up. Indeed, a persnickety looking teenager was walking over to them. He had no intention of beefing with another, only slightly older kid, but he didn't exactly smile at her.

"What are you doing talking to creepy old men?!" her sister barked at her from a distance.

"He's a nice ajushi," the girl defended from her position next to him. "He got me the umbrella. You told me it was enough but it wasn't!"

Actually, the sister had definitely sent this kid - without umbrella - in the rain to the store just to get her own umbrella, knowing she had set her up for failure? Man, business was business but that was low.

"Whatever, let's go," the teenager waved to hurry her.

Gil gave the teen another look before bending down and putting the umbrella in the kid's hand. "Remember everything I told you."

"Yes, sir!" she gave him her most respectful bow before tottering over to her sister, who immediately turned around and started heading home now that her attache was acquired.

Gil shook his head. He hoped the kid enjoyed her hundreds and kept them to herself. And if her parents did find out they wouldn't believe her anyway. Or rather, if they did, he wasn't going to be around for them to complain about it.

He pulled out his phone again. He hadn't needed to pull up a picture--Thena was already his background. She was in a pretty dress with fur around her shoulders and red lipstick. She said the colour was champagne or something like that; he had boldly claimed that only she could be beautiful enough to call plain old 'beige' champagne and make it look good.

They had been in Russia for an event, although he was pretty sure she had sneakily introduced him to some associates - maybe even family - of hers. He was trying to learn, but the Russian alphabet was really kicking his ass.

"You're good with kids."

He slipped his phone away with a grin. "You think so?"

Thena walked towards him, her own umbrella in hand, faintly white, casting an angelic glow down on her hair.

Gil received her, kissing her cheek and putting his hand at her back. "You look all sparkly."

"You think so?" she laughed, although she lavished in his affection as opposed to pulling away. She had missed him too. "Imo told me I had to try all these skin treatments they had. I'm starting to think I"m aging poorly."

"You're stunning," he pressed his lips to her cheek again. She felt all smooth and cool to the touch, too. "In fact, I told a little girl I was married to a princess. She seemed pretty starstruck."

"Lying to the youth," Thena shook her head at him with a grin. "Although the umbrella did suit you."

"I know it did." He liked things that contrasted his looks. It emphasized just how cool and tough he really was.

"Come on," she tugged at his blazer, avoiding the side of it that was now wet. "Let's get you home. You know Imo will scold you for this."

He sighed, following Thena under her umbrella to the car service. "What doesn't she scold me for? She'll probably tell me I should have gone to the spa just so I could hold your towel for you."

"She would not."

She would so. But Gil put his hand on Thena's waist. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"Hey."

Gil leaned in by reflex, pressing his lips to hers. He felt pretty neutral about Korea, he liked seeing Imo, and he liked visiting his mom. He hated having to do business with his dad. And the convenience stores were okay. And maybe he liked getting called Ajushi by a nice kid in a convenience store.

Thena pulled away, putting her fingers on his chin. She got that cat eyed look as she stared straight into his soul. "Hm."

"What?" This wouldn't be good.

"You had ramen--I can taste it on you."

[astronomical-bagel]

my dad said otherside (the Minecraft song) was annoying because “it’s just the same six notes over and over again” BUT LISYEN WHAT IF THEYRE FHE BEST SIX NOTES IN THE WORLD? WHAT IF THEYRE RHE SIX NOTES OF JOY AND WHIMSY? WHAT IF OTHERSIDE IS THE BEST SONF IN RHE WORLD??

[glitterhoof]

btw the little mermaid remake is my lifeblood i know i didn’t talk about it but i saw it the day after opening and its SO good.

[le-velo-pour-dru]

Could you guys tell that I love Dallon Weekes so so much with my whole heart??? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[firefly-fez]

what no one tells you about autism is that befriending a new autistic person is a process of learning their own unique language of love. are they comfortable with eye contact? physical touch? hugs or no hugs? special interest? what textures do they like? should we converse about the special interest or just spend some time with limited conversation just vibing in each other’s company? for neurotypicals there’s like this boring standardized List of Rules that you Have to Follow Or Else! but for my autistic friends out there the rules don’t apply!! they way they connect is each so unique and personal to them that the discovery of getting to know a new person ceases to be this laborious task of following Social Rules until you get comfortable enough to do away with them, but with autistic ppl you get to throw away the stupid rule book right from the get go and embark on a personal adventure of friendship anew, like there’s a secret language you’re uncovering and evey time you successfully connect you feel that magic of blossoming friendship tenfold. shoutout to all my autistic homies out there, you’re not weird, you’re not a burden, there’s nothing wrong with the way that you specifically connect with others and actually i have decided that it is beautiful ✨ ✨

what no one tells you about being autistic is people just don’t like you. maybe you make friends, but they get tired of you fast. even if you’re not actively bullied, your peers just…. don’t pay attention to you. something about you is offputting and weird to mostly everyone, and you literally cannot stop it no matter how hard you try.

[spideycals]

Being from Gaza, Palestine is so different.

I tell people I'm from Gaza and I get pity, I get the "oh... do you have family there?" and I have to act tough, I am tough, it runs in my veins. Being from Gaza is expecting that reaction, the sorrow, it's dealing with dumbass people everyday, it's getting the "can you go there?" question. (No i cant btw).

I am from Gaza, I feel emotions just like everyone else, I feel anger and hurt and longing for a place I cant visit, I feel love and comfort and right now I feel alone and like im yelling at the world to pay attention and NO ONE CARES.

I am from Gaza, my thoughts belong to Gaza, my heart, my skin color, the way I speak, the way I say words a bit differently than the rest of the Palestinians, the way I wish I was a filmmaker to share my culture with the world.

I am from Gaza, i am aware of how different my people are, i am aware that i grew up differently, I am aware I grew up looking at the news from my grandparents television with my aunt waiting for news about her family, I am aware that I have trauma in my veins, I am aware that my culture is taken over and that I can't really speak about it, I am aware that not everyone experiences your aunt screaming that her brother died and yelling "He's apart of my soul, my soul died"

I am from Gaza, I hurt, I feel, I love, I care and my heart, soul and mind all belong to my beautiful land and its people.