“He Was Fond Of Me”

Radio Romance by Mashrou' Leila

Hello, my dear friend 🌟

I am Mahmoud Jihad from Gaza, currently living in displacement camps after losing my home, university, my PC, and my city. I was studying Information Technology and caring for my sick father and siblings.

I am raising funds to help my family and to escape from Gaza, as well as to continue my studies abroad 🎓. I started a GoFundMe campaign for this purpose. Your support can make a significant difference ❤️.

My campaign has been verified by @beesandwatermelons ✅.

Please share, like, comment, and donate even a small amount 🙏.

Could your support save my family and help us survive in this fierce war 😔?

GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01

Thank you! 🌹

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can we just get a show of the characters behind the scenes? it be a fun romp

you're laughing. The umbrella academy's final season destroyed every character's personal growth and semi-healed traumas, left huge plot-holes, completely abandoned some of it's most beloved side characters that were crucial in previous seasons and you're laugh-oh. You're crying. My bad. Go ahead. Let it out. Understandable.

In the media, Gaza is an abstraction, a space designed for the violent death of an abstract people inhabiting it. This death comes at the hands of a natural, impersonal force—not one of the most powerful armies in the world propped up by the most powerful state in the world, with a government, and a people electing this government. It is a convenient framing, one that shifts guilt away from Israel. The destruction comes from above, and those who die are meant to die. All is as it should be. To that, we offer a correction: Gaza is not an abstraction. It is a shore and beaches and streets and markets and cities with names of flowers and fruits, not an abstraction but places and lives and people that are being bombed into oblivion.

At the Threshold of Humanity, by Karim Kattan.

#so you have chosen death

being a performer in a concert hall and bumping into anakin skywalker. and you don't recognize him, perfect. you wouldn't need to anyway, it was another regular primeday for you and many of your fellow performers, why would you need to appeal to very, very attractive blonde in the throng?

then that's when you realize you bumped into the hero with no fear. in all his glory; dark jedi robes, and the flash of a lightsaber secured against his hip.

it takes a lot of courage for you not to fumble on your feet because something tells you, this isn't the last time you'll be seeing him.

and he—anakin,

anakin looks at you in a way that jedi council would, rest assured, disapprove. and it scares him. it wasn't the way you carried yourself throughout the performance, the way you apologized with a firm voice by bumping into him, it was your smile, and your voice. the wave of normalcy you omitted, one that feels so pleasant. so, incredibly like home—except the sand bit, everything in naboo seems to turn his beliefs around—that he couldn't help but ask obi-wan if these missions would happen more often.

obi-wan's expressions were unreadable, much to anakin's dismay.