Happy Born Day To Me Ig :/

"Not all men..."

Yeah your right José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal would never treat me like this

pause because why is ateez going on another tour when they just wrapped one up? and there’s almost no break between each leg. kq what are we doing?

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵, 𝑾𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑨 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑴

✧ 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡. 𝑖𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

✧ 𝐵𝐼𝐺𝑂𝑇

✧ 𝑅𝐴𝐶𝐼𝑆𝑇

✧ 𝐴𝐺𝐸𝐼𝑆𝑇

✧ 𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸𝐼𝑆𝑇

✧ 𝐾𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐵𝑂𝑂

✧ 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑆𝐻𝐼𝑃𝑃𝐸𝑅

✧ 𝑀𝑌𝑆𝑂𝐺𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐶

✧ 𝐻𝑂𝑀𝑂𝑃𝐻𝑂𝐵𝐼𝐶

✧ 𝐵𝑂𝐷𝑌𝑆𝐻𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅

✧ 𝑅𝐶𝑇𝐴 𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐻𝑈𝑆𝐼𝐴𝑆𝑇

✧ 𝑃𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑃𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐸/𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐷𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝑂𝐹 𝐴𝑁𝑌 𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐷

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

OH MY FAWKING GAWD

i’m reading this good ass hobi fic on wattpad (don’t shoot me) and his wife is cheating with her coworker AND her coworker’s fiancé and they keep talking abt how things will be different after the wedding

WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY PLANNING I NEED TO KNOW NEOW

stay tuned 😜

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

@thine-local-simpeth-again why is he so stunning

The fact that he’s not in my bed right now is a crime.

restarting mha bc im gonna try to upload this kacchan draft soon and istg that bitch gets on my nerves. pissing me off in his very first appearance and that’s not an exaggeration.

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶

𝘈 𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘖'𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘈'𝘚 𝘍𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈 𝘚𝘜𝘙𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘚𝘌 𝘝𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘛

𝘔𝘐𝘎𝘜𝘌𝘓 𝘖'𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘞𝘐𝘍𝘌!𝘖𝘊

𝘊𝘞: 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘉𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘠 𝘖𝘖𝘊 𝘔𝘐𝘎𝘜𝘌𝘓 𝘖'𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘈, 𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘗𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘕𝘛

𝘞𝘊: 2,245

𝘔.𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

“hey, siri. call-” elena barely got her sentence out when her phone began to ring. she made her way to the counter and peered at her phone before answering it.

“hello?”

“hey, cariña. how are you feeling?” her husband’s soft voice came from the phone.

“i feel fine, mi amor. you know, i was actually just about to call you.”

“were you? we must be in sync,” elena could hear the smile in his voice, “i wanted to let you know i’m on my way to get the girls, and then i’ll be on the way home.”

as elena opened her mouth to respond, there was a knock at the door.

“hm, well i’ll see you when you get here. te amo, miguel,” though she spoke with pure adoration, most of elena’s attention was on the door.

“te amo, mi esposa.”

as the call came to an end, elena made her way to the door. before opening it, she pressed her ear against in an attempt to recognize a voice coming from the other side of the door.

“.. and we’re gonna be friendly and respectful, and we’re not gonna play with our web shooters, alright?”

“i know, dad. what’s taking him so long to open the door?”

“you don’t what he’s doing. that might not even be his car in the driveway, may.”

may?

“who is it?” though she had an idea of who was behind the door, elena wanted to be sure.

“oh- uh, my name is peter! i’m looking for miguel o’hara?-”

“and i’m mayday!”

taking a deep breath, elena unlocked and opened the door, leaving the door chain in place as a precautionary measure.

as she peaked through the small crack, elena looked up and saw a man. he appeared to be pushing fifty, his hair peppered with gray strands. dressed appropriately for the transitioning weather, peter had on creme colored knitted sweater and jeans. mayday had on an army green sweater dress, her wild curls slightly tamed and tied up in a ponytail.

“why are you looking for miguel?” elena had an inkling of a feeling as to why, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

“well, we used to work together, ya know? and it’s been a while so i figured nothing wrong with checking in,” peter had a gentle smile on his face, but his emphasis on ‘work together’ left a nauseous feeling in elena’s stomach.

strangely enough, though, being seven months pregnant will also do that.

“are you sure you’re not here about work?”

at elena’s question, peter raised an eyebrow. after a silent minute, peter relaxed his body and gave elena a bright smile.

“he’s told you, right? about our adventures? i promise i’m only here as a friend.”

elena’s stared at the man for a short while before softly closing the door in peter and may’s face, leaving father and daughter in shock.

click!

the door opened, revealing elena’s 5’2 figure. she pulled the door back, allowing the two enough room to get inside her home.

“thank you,” peter gave the much shorter woman a kind smile, one which she returned.

as may got settled on the couch, peter took a look at all the pictures on the mantle and on the walls. as he came across a picture of miguel cradling his younger daughter for the first time, peter turned to elena.

“how long have the two of you been together?”

elena looked at the picture and smiled, vividly remembering the day she brought her little Isabella into the world.

“we met a few months after i had gabriella, so about seven years.”

at that, peter did a double take.

“wait, so gabriella isn’t his?”

“biologically, no. but miguel is the only father she’s ever known, and he’s been around since essentially the beginning,” elena got a bit defensive; though she knew he meant no harm, the way peter worded his question didn’t sit right with her.

“of course, of course. i meant no disrespect. it just shocked me because of..” peter trailed off, but elena knew what he was going to say.

“i know,” elena’s voice was soft, “he told me about her.”

peter gave the woman a soft look before moving along and stopped at a more recent picture.

“who’s this kid?”

the kid in question was a young man in his early twenties. it wasn’t his cheeky grin or the glint of mischief in his eyes that caught peter’s attention.

it was the mostly striking resemblance he saw in himself.

as elena looked at the picture she chuckled a bit. she’d have to call him later.

“actually, that’s peter. he’s an intern at miguel’s office. he babysits our girls sometimes.”

“ah, i shoulda known,” peter b. chuckled out.

the two moved over to the couch where mayday had gotten ahold of the remote and was surfing through channels before landing on disney channel.

“oh!” elena exclaimed, “i’m sorry, i just realized i never introduced myself. my name is elena.”

peter let out a hearty laugh before saying, “it’s lovely to meet you, elena.”

as he got comfortable, peter continued, “so, how’d you two meet?”

as miguel’s mini suv got closer to his home, the man’s nerves increasingly got worse. he couldn’t explain it, but something felt off to him.

“papi! i show you ‘n mami my drawing!”

at two years old, isabella was a bit of a fire cracker. the concept of an indoor voice hasn’t registered in her little mind, and she was incredibly demanding.

terrible twos, right?

through a chuckle, miguel simply responded with, “i can’t wait to see it, mi princesa.”

turning into the driveway, miguel stared at his family’s home. as he moved to gather isabella from her car seat, gabriella grabbed her bag and rushed to the front door, waiting impatiently for her dad to unlock it.

with isa in his arms, miguel walked up the driveway. in an effort to be discreet, he gently pushed gabriella out from in front of the door. if someone unfamiliar was inside their home, he’d need his kids to get as far as way as possible, as soon as possible.

with a slow turn and push, the front door was open. the first thing miguel spotted was his pretty wife, her manicured hands resting on the swelling of her belly — yet another girl.

the second was the little red head girl sitting on his couch under his throw blanket watching his telenovela.

the third was the wide smile on the face of the man standing in his living room.

ay dios mío.

“miguel, old buddy! it’s been waaaaay too long! how ya been?” completely ignoring the look of utter defeat on miguel’s face, peter walked over with arms open wide in preparation for the long awaited reunion.

“not long enough. how and why are you here?” Miguel dodged the hug, instead moving toward elena to deposit their little one reaching for her mama.

“your ears aren’t bleeding, are they, amor?” he asked with a kiss to her temple. she chuckled lightly, shaking her head no.

“peter’s been fine. i’ll take isa so you guys can catch up.”

miguel slouched on the couch while elena left with Isabella on her hip. with gabriella dragging may to her room, the two men were left alone.

“elena says she’s a stay at home,” peter spoke first, either unaware or uncaring about his friend’s dread.

“she is. peter, why are you here?”

peter took a minute to examine his friend. there was white sprinkled in his hair, which was a little longer than it was the last time they saw each other. there were light bags under his eyes, but he didn’t look tired. he looked.. content.

“believe it or not, i missed you, man. i wanted to see how you’ve been and then i found out you had a whole family and i just.. i’m happy for you.”

miguel looked at the man standing in front of him. he’d toned down the smile, but there was still joy in his expression, albeit more subtle. the crows feet were prominent on his face even without a smile there.

“… what do you wanna know that she hasn’t already told you?”

peter’s eyes shined.

“everything.”

“- and this is gabi after her first soccer game.”

miguel had pulled out the photo albums he and his wife used to document their lives together.

“wow! man, i gotta say it: for you to have this great life and all you had to do was wai-”

“wait,” miguel cut him off.

“yeah! all you had to do was-”

“no. shut up,” he was looking towards the stairs.

“… what’s wrong?” peter whispered, having no clue what triggered his closest friend.

as he stood, miguel responded, “gabi is never this quiet with company over.”

and with that, he made his way up the stairs taking two at a time, quiet yet efficient. peter wasn’t far behind.

miguel opened the door to his oldest daughter’s room. laid on the bed in the middle of the room were the two young girls stretched out every which way, completely knocked out. peter smiled as he watched the man deflate.

he went across the room to shake his daughter awake. with a groan, she sat up and promptly crawled up her father’s back, silently demanding a piggyback ride. with the girl gathered on his back, peter turned to his friend.

“well, i guess it’s time for me to get this one home to her mama. you mind?”

miguel pressed the buttons on peter’s wristband, opening the portal into what looked like may’s bedroom. as he stepped forward, miguel called out to him.

“peter.”

he turned around and raised an eyebrow, prompting the man to continue.

“it was… nice. to see you, i mean.”

“ahh, it sucks that i’ve got my girl on my back. i would’ve given you a great hug, man.”

“… get out of my house.”

by the time miguel got gabriella properly situated in her bed, put dinner away, and made it into his bedroom, it was pushing 11 o’clock at night. elena was sitting up in their bed, little isabella sprawled out at the foot asleep.

“mi amor, where are her pants?”

“i got up to go to the bathroom and when i came back, she was just standing in the bed chewing on the pants leg. she wouldn’t let me put them back on her,” elena responded, smiling softly at the little one.

miguel chuckled softly as he gathered the toddler in his arms. as she was moved, she began to whine around her pacifier.

“oh, i know, mija. we’re gonna go sleep in your pretty princess bed,” miguel cooed at her, rubbing her back.

as he paced slowly, soothing their daughter, elena smiled at her husband.

“how was your evening?”

miguel sighed. elena knew he was about say something along the lines of a complaint, but the truth was written all over his face before he even began.

“he asked so many questions, my love. And every time i would get around answering them, he’d ask a million more it felt like. and he kept saying how beautiful you are-”

“aw, that’s sweet.”

“- and obviously i know that. how else would you be pregnant right now? and he was saying how nice it is that i have this family to come home to everyday and… yeah. it was all very repetitive. i would’ve preferred to be lying down with my beautiful wife.”

elena laughed at him. even though her husband did, in fact, complain about his night, she could tell he enjoyed seeing peter.

“well now that he’s gone, there’s nothing stopping you from doing just that,” she responded to him, smiling softly and patting his side of the bed.

miguel stopped his slow pacing and looked at his wife. her face was bare of any makeup, all of her blemishes and dark spots out for him to see. she had her hair tied back in a scarf and she was wearing what she affectionately called her “granny gown.” miguel took notice of all of this.

“every time i look at you it’s like i fall in love with you over and over again.”

elena cheesed at him and replied, “hurry up and get her to bed so i can kiss you.”

it didn’t take long to get from his bedroom to the nursery. when he came back, he quickly got ready for bed so he could spoon his wife. as he crawled into bed, miguel pressed three kisses to his wife’s lips before lying down behind her and wrapping his arms around her torso, his hands caressing where the youngest o’hara slept.

“she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl, too. i can feel it,” elena called out softly. miguel hummed in thought.

“she might surprise you. maybe she’ll be under her mama all the time like gabriella was.”

“yes, and gabriella is a daddy’s girl. you’re proving my point, amor,” elena retorted as she rubbed a thumb over miguel’s hand. the man responded by pressing his lips to the woman’s neck.

“i love you, elena.”

there was so much overwhelming love in her husband’s voice that all she could do was repeat his words back to him.

as the two closed their eyes, miguel thought about what peter said to him earlier.

it is nice that I get to come home to this everyday.

𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰 (❁´◡`❁) 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘪 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘢 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 @1-800-writersblock 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘥𝘥, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘣𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪 (≧∇≦)/

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.

Middle East Eye

Torture, executions, babies left to die, sexual abuse… These are Israel’s crimes

Why is the same western media obsessively reheating five-month-old allegations against Hamas so reluctant to focus on Israel’s current, horr

now wait a damn minute.

how did i miss hot muscle mommy ambessa medarda give renni the drop for the memorial service? i’ve watched this show and rewatched it at least five times, this is a little bit crazy. i can’t believe she was a snake from jump (yes i can).

still wanna fuck tho

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢