#filipina wanderer

[filipinawanderer]

The Filipina Wanderer’s Top 5 Predictions for the Future of Filipino Consumer Behavior

From the rise of voice and visual search to the boom of local e-commerce and the emphasis on sustainability, understand what lies ahead in the dynamic digital landscape. #FilipinaWanderer #FutureConsumerBehavior #DigitalTrends

The Filipino digital marketplace is a vibrant, ever-changing landscape. As brands continue to navigate this dynamic terrain, understanding consumer behavior and patterns is more crucial than ever. Based on past trends and behaviors outlined in our previous articles, I’ve made a few predictions about what lies ahead. Here are the Filipina Wanderer’s top 5 projections for the future of Filipino…

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#2023 #filipina wanderer #FilipinaWanderer #Filipino Consumer Behavior #Local E-commerce #Mobile Dominance #Personalized Experiences #Sustainability #Visual Search #Voice Search

[mrs-lockley]

where the spirit meets the bones

Summary: Above, a merciful Sirena roams the seas of the East. Below, a lonely king seeks retribution. Your paths cross one war-torn night when you save the life of a man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles and ears that point to the sky. Enchanted by your siren song, the feathered serpent king becomes determined to find you, even if he must wait for half a century. 

Posted on AO3 here.

Pairing: Namor (K’uk’ulkan) x Filipina (Kapampangan)!Fem!Sirena!Reader 

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Mentions of colonization (burning of a Spanish flag in a sea storm but nothing graphic), mentions of drowning and burning (nothing explicit), slow burn (pun not intended), mutual yearning and pining, mentions of death and the afterlife. Physical descriptions of the reader include dark hair and eyes

Tagging: @justrunamok @artsynellyyy @theatreslave @musing-magpie​ @lostfleurs @alathan13 @velvetmel0n​ @mattmurdockswife​ @ameliachastain​​​

Author’s Notes: Hello my darlings! After nearly two years, I have written my first fic. Please be gentle when giving feedback and I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty. But this fic is very loosely based on the Little Mermaid with some Philippine and Maya mythology. 

The reader is Filipina, but from an unidentified region from the province of Pampanga, Philippines. Kapampangan is also the reader’s first language (and my second language) and does not speak Tagalog. This is the first part of a trilogy.

Translations: Kapampangan, Yucatec Mayan, and some Tagalog is used in the fic. For smaller phrases, translations are found throughout the fic in italics. For longer sentences in Kapampangan and Yucatec Mayan, translations are found at the end of the fic (with additional author’s notes). 

Namor’s monologue is in italics in respect to his language. An online translating generator was used. If there are any errors in Kapampangan and/or Yucatec Mayan, please let me know and I will correct it. 

How’s one to know I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones in a faith forgotten land?

Lubao, Pampanga, June 1827

The moon was full when you rose to the surface, the night quieter than usual. Rain clouds begin to depart as the rain lightens into a steady downpour over the calming sea. The quiet after the storm, but your burning skin and aching bones say otherwise.

On the beach, a mother cries in relief as her daughter clears the water from her lungs, her arms immediately circling around her as she thanks Apong Díos and the angels above. Beside her, the father embraces his family with a joyous shout. 

You had caught the girl wandering the beach earlier that evening at the peak of the rainstorm. It was high tide then, the water lapping too close and too angry as she ran along the shore. One moment she was playing on the sand, and the next, the ocean had tried to swallow her whole.

You fought against the current in search for her, your lungs aching for air as the water screamed in defiance. Your tail cramped as you dove beneath the surface, narrowly fitting between the crevices of the sharp rocks and stones. Only slivers of moonlight guided your path through the dark stormy waters.

But you found her a moment later with her head barely above water, her arms and legs thrashing to stay afloat. Her pleas for help were drowned over the sound of the beating ocean and pouring rain, falling deaf on human ears. The girl’s panicked movements only propelled her deeper into the sea, and it was a matter of seconds before she would draw her last breath.

Softly, you began to sing to her. At the sound of your voice, the girl began to still, her movements drawing to a halt as you approached her. Her eyes fluttered shut, but her breathing slowed as her body was calmed by your song. The water around you began to bend to your will the louder you sang, enchanting the creatures and tides around you into submission. 

With ease, you wrapped your arms around the child and held them in a tight embrace as you swam to the shore. Her head on your shoulder, you continued to sing softly to her to quiet her mind and relax her body. 

You returned her to the surface as you gently laid her body on the sand, your hand cradling the back of her head. In the distance, the yellow lights of a nearby village hut began to flicker with shadows racing across the window. Quickly, you brushed her hair out of her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, your hand squeezing hers. 

“Gumising na.” Wake up.

At the sound of approaching voices, you released her hand and returned to the sea. 

The little girl stands and holds onto her mother’s hands as they depart from the shore, but she hesitates. You watch as she tugs on her mother’s hands and turns to her, urgently pleading for her mother to listen. The mother gazes at the sea, her expression unreadable as her eyes search for answers. The girl turns and points, but her mother shakes her head and carries her in her arms as the father shields them both from the rain, retreating into the safety of their hut.

You ignore the sharp pang splintering in your chest before you turn, floating on your back with your arms outstretched and offering yourself to the sky. Up above, the clouds continue to depart as the rain slows into a whispering shower kissing your skin.

As you bask in the moonlight, you run your fingers over the curved surface of the golden pendant resting on your chest. It was the last relic of your past life, the only physical memory of who you were before the ocean had claimed you as its own. Tonight was far different than the last night you walked on land, but it was quieter nights like these where your mind wandered into the past. One by one, it all came back to you. 

A gentle mother’s touch on your hand during a monsoon. A sister braiding your hair by the window. A father teaching you how to sail. A lover sneaking a kiss between dances. 

The heaviness in your chest deepens, spreading to your neck and to your eyes as they sting with tears. With pieces of your past echoing in your mind, you look up to the night sky and beg for comfort. One hundred years you have served the ocean. One hundred years you have saved your people from drowning. One hundred years of protecting the secrets of the sea. 

But it has also been one hundred years of loneliness. 

You were unlike the other creatures who dwelled in the sea. While the sirenas feasted on men and dragged them to their deaths, you rescued them and returned them to the shore. The kataws walked on land and were mistaken for humans as they manipulated the water to their will, while you tamed the water to save the innocent. Siyokoys devoured mortals, but you loved your people who walked on the land and found beauty in their world. While you have the sea turtles and dolphins at your side, your heart remains heavy as they whisper behind you. You were not their kind, why would the ocean choose to have mercy on you?

Gazing at the moon with the water holding you close, you stretch your hands and pray. Why did save me? Must I always bear this loneliness?

The only answer you receive is the pause of rainfall and a full moon sighing in the sky. 

Mérida, Yucatán Peninsula, July 1858

By the time you open your eyes, the last of the sun’s rays had settled under the sea with the cool ocean breeze tickling your skin. The dolphin who carried you whistles softly as you wake, its tail brushing against yours as it waits for your command.

“Dakal a salamat,” you whisper. Many thanks. 

With a soft smile, you affectionately run your hands over the dolphin’s back as it clicks before disappearing into the sea. 

You do not know how long or far you have traveled, but as you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have wandered into foreign territory. As the sky darkens into the blues, violets, and greens of the night, the ocean welcomes you into its soft embrace. Around you, the waves fall into a steady calmness. Just as you enchant humans with your voice, this new ocean comforts you in a strange way you could not quite understand, almost as if it were welcoming you home. 

For a brief moment, you allow yourself to relax in these new waters by diving into its arms. As you swim beneath the surface, you find yourself finally able to breathe for the first time. You were far from your home in the Pacific, and you were far from the angry voices of the merfolk who haunted you. 

“Alang cuenta,” the sirenas sneered at you when you had rescued stray fishermen from falling into their trap. Furious at your intrusion, your sisters lunged for you and tore at your tail and skin with their webbed claws and bared teeth. You screamed for mercy as you fought back, but their teeth and nails were stronger as they dragged you deeper into the darkness of the sea.

Either out of boredom or mercy, your sisters finished their prey upon you and left you in the cold depths of the ocean where the light of the sun did not reach. Hours passed before you were able to move and swim to the coral reefs where the dolphins and sea turtles found you nursing your wounds. With your arms covered in bites and your chest and tail in cuts, you found refuge in the dolphins and allowed them to carry you far away from your tormentors. 

Rising to the surface, you push your hair back and run your hands over your face, suppressing a childish giggle at the realization of your newfound freedom. For weeks you traveled with the dolphins to escape their persecution. Despite spending the past one hundred years alone, for the first time in over a century, you feel nothing but relief. You were never welcomed by the creatures of the ocean back at home. Perhaps you could find a new home here. 

You pause. Around you, the ocean suddenly grows cold as ripples slowly reverberate throughout the surface of the water. A chill descends your spine as you suddenly become breathless and frozen.

On the seashore, a man slowly rises from the water, holding a scepter adorned in engravings in one hand with his back turned to you. A golden plate rests on the back of his neck with matching cuffs on his arms, wrists, and legs reflecting the glow of the rising moon. A similar belt rests on his hips and above a pair of dark green shorts, the only article of clothing he wears. In the dim light, your eyes trace the broad expanse of his shoulders and the thick muscles of his back, arms, and legs. An air of regality surrounds him as he fully emerges from the water and stands in his full form. 

This man is not human, you realize as he walks along the beach, the water yielding to his presence. He is a man of the sea. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as he kneels on the sand. 

Wings. There were wings on his ankles.

Something inside of you whispers to swim closer to the shore. With the waves beckoning towards you, you have no choice but to obey.

Holding your breath, you submerge yourself deeper into the water and hide behind a rock to avoid being seen. On the sand, the man with the winged ankles speaks softly in a language you don’t recognize.

“Jach tak in wilech,” he whispers and lowers his head. I miss you. 

His movements and words are gentle as he places a white flower on the sand, his voice soft and low as he continues to speak. Your heart pounds in realization as you watch him revere someone who could not be seen. This was a grave. 

Guilt consumes you as memories of your past life flood to the surface, your pendant weighing heavily on your chest. Turning away from the shore, you close your eyes to force down the tears that threaten to spill. How silly of you to think you could run away when your family rests at home across the ocean. Here, the water belongs to another. Who were you to leave your home behind and reside in a place as sacred as this?

Wiping at your eyes, you turn back to the shore and find the man speaking to the spirits. Even in the dim moonlight, you catch a glimpse of his face, his dark eyes full of emotion and grief.

Slowly, you reach for the sampaguita flowers in your hair and cradle them in your hands. One by one, you sing quietly to yourself as you place the flowers in the water. You linger for a few moments, your fingers running over the pendant on your chest as the water guides them to the beach. 

“Patawad na,” you breathe. I’m sorry.

With a final prayer, you return to the sea. 

On the beach, a soft hand reaches for the jasmine flowers. Dark eyes look to the horizon in search of the one who brought them, but the only answer given were the quiet waves lapping at the shore. 

Gently, the man with the winged ankles places the white flowers on the sand, creating a trail from the grave and towards the spirit’s old home before disappearing into the water.

The only evidence of his arrival is soon washed away by the rising tide of the ocean.

Philippine Sea, near Manila, August 1894

Tonight was much like the last night you walked on land.

The air was laden with tension and uncertainty. Word from the fishermen and villagers had gone around that the conquistadors were having trouble with their colonies in the West. On the surface, you often found the land-dwellers running through the shadows of the trees in the jungle. The islands seemed to hum in anticipation at the whispers of a possible revolution.

In times like these, you turned a blind eye to your sisters drowning the oppressors on the beach. But your hands weren’t clean and bloodless either. As your sisters feasted on their flesh, you were the one to sing to them, distracting them with your sweet voice and innocent smile. 

(You would do it again in a heartbeat, you soon realize. With each conquistador that steps into the water, another revolutionary returns safely home.)

But tonight was different from those quiet nights of revolutionaries lurking in the shadows of the jungle. Tonight was a war.

Lightning strikes through the stormy sky and fuels the flames licking at the near abandoned trade ship drowning in the fury of the summer typhoon. The white sails darken into ash as the Spanish flags fade into dust. 

Around you, your sisters call to them with outstretched arms, promising to save them from a violent death. You do not sing to invite them further in, nor do you move when your sisters feed on their flesh. You watch silently as your enemies fall and drown to their death, your skin heated by the scorching fires of their sinking ships. With memories of your last night flashing through your mind, you gaze at the burning flags in contempt. It is only fitting that the last thing they see is your face before falling to their demise. 

Suddenly, one of your sisters screams and points to the sky. 

Aswang!*

The sirenas shriek and recede into the water as the remaining men on deck scream in terror. Lightning illuminates the sky once more and reveals the silhouette of the figure flying in the air. 

Your breath stops in your throat as you glimpse at the figure, your eyes falling to their feet. 

The man with the feathered wings on his ankles.

You look up at him, your heartbeat mirroring the resounding claps of thunder. The man with the wings pays no heed to your sisters retreating into the safety of the water. Instead, his gaze is focused on the colonizers clinging onto the debris of their sinking ships.

He raises his spear and strikes. 

The ocean thirsts for violence as crimson stains its waters. With each strike of lightning and roar of thunder, the further the Spanish ships sink to the bottom of the sea. Screams and gunshots plague the night as the monsoon beats its anger onto the surface world. One by one, the colonizers perish by the sea, the bloodthirst of your sisters, or the man exacting his vengeance from above. 

Your eyes widen. On the deck of the last ship sailing, a colonizer opens fire and aims his weapon at the sky.

“Saguli-!” You shout. Wait!

Everything moves in slow motion. Before the trigger is pulled, bursts of red, orange, and yellow blinds your vision. Your ears ring from the explosion as your left shoulder is consumed by a sharp pain that resembles shark teeth digging into your bones. 

As your vision begins to clear, the rain continues to pour. Furls of silver smoke surround you as the burning fires devour the last wooden planks of the sunken ship. Despite the rumble of thunder and cries of the sea, the night is suddenly quiet with only the low crackle of flickering flames filling the silence. Your sisters have disappeared. The colonizers have perished. 

In the sky, the man from the sea burns before falling into the water. 

Without hesitation, you dive into the sea to search for him with the flickers of the dying flames guiding your path underwater. In the distance, the glint of his spear reflects the light of the surface fires with its owner sinking beside him, his eyes closed and his back covered in black ash. 

Ignoring the pain in your shoulder, you wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close as you swim towards the surface.

Please be alive, you pray as you break through the water, your lungs aching as you carry the man in your arms. Please.

...

The monsoon begins to falter when dusk brightens the sky. The rain slows into a steady downpour and the wind turns from a thunderous gust and into a whispering breeze. Gray storm clouds weigh heavily in the sky, but cracks of sunlight peek through the horizon. 

Tears burn your eyes as your cries echo in the cove. Pain engulfs your left shoulder and your body screams in agony from fighting against the violence of the waves and the rage from the skies. With a cry of pain, you push yourself up and untangle your arms from the body of the man you rescued. The man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles. 

A gasp of relief escapes your lips the moment you feel the steady drumming of his heartbeat underneath your trembling fingertips. 

“Salamat,” you breathe, a childish laugh rumbling in your chest as you wipe at your eyes. “You’re alive.”

With a gentle hand, you brush his dark hair back. The dusky rays of sunlight kiss his tanned skin, casting shadows of the planes and contours of his peppered cheeks. Drops of jade sit beneath his pointed ears and mirror the jewel on his nose. Beads of white pearls and golden rings adorn his neck. A large plate rests on his chest with two deep blue serpents meeting in the middle, a large pearl sitting in the center. 

In the dim light of the early morning, you cannot help but gaze in awe at the beautiful man laying in your arms. 

Who is he? You wonder as you softly trail your hand from his hair and down his arm, a frown settling on your lips at the sight of dried blood and deep bruises at his side. 

You glance back at his face once more. You should be afraid of him, a stranger from a foreign land who showed no mercy to his enemies. But despite the violence of the previous night, you remember the first night you saw him on the beach in the Atlantic. You remember his dark eyes full of grief, his gentle hands cradling the flowers, and his soft voice whispering in the wind.

The man sleeping before you now was not the same man that tormented his enemies at sea, but the man you met on that summer seashore.

Gently, you lean forward to caress his cheek and sing.

“Potang paintunan mu ku, lumwal ka, talanga ka. Akit me ing bulan a masala karin mikit kata. E na ka matakut, e na ku naman migaganaka, uling balu ku balang beni mikikit ka king laman ning bulan a masala.”

As you sing the last note, the man begins to stir. 

Panic floods through you as you look down to find his hand wrapped around your right wrist. His grip is firm but gentle, with the heat of his skin warm against yours. 

Swallowing the ache in your chest, you lean forward to cup his face with both of your hands, your thumbs stroking his cheeks as you gently press your lips to his forehead. 

“Mikit tána pasibáyo,” you whisper. We will meet again. 

With one last look, you squeeze his hand and retreat into the water. 

…

Whispers of a man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles spread across the surface. From the villagers and fishermen to the convoys and rulers, people spoke of his existence in hushed tones, afraid that speaking his name would incur his wrath. Parents passed his story to their children as folklore, but those who were old enough remembered seeing him walk along the beach before his footprints were washed away by the waves of the ocean. 

K’uk’ulkan, they called him. The feathered serpent god. 

The King of Talokan prided himself as a benevolent ruler and a protector of his people. For three hundred years, K’uk’ulkan kept their kingdom a secret under the sea. He lived, breathed, and bled for them, enduring the pain from the surface world to protect the Talokanil from the violence of the land-dwellers. For this, K’uk’ulkan reigned as their king, their feathered serpent ruler. 

While tales of the feathered serpent were considered myths to the tribes on the beach, another name was whispered across the seven seas. From the clergy and the admirals, no one dared to speak the moniker out loud. 

El niño sin amor, the Spanish priests warned. The child without love. 

“Namor,” his enemies gasped as they looked up at him, their eyes wide with fear. 

It had been five weeks since the Spanish ships departed from the Atlantic. Five weeks before he finally found the ships that had stolen the resources from his kingdom. As the monsoonal rain raged its wrath over the blazing fires of the splintering ships on a foreign sea he was not familiar with, Namor raised his spear and struck with no mercy. 

It all unraveled so fast. One moment he vanquished his enemies, and the next he was swallowed by flames.

He vaguely remembered the ocean welcoming him as he fell from the sky. In the dark stillness of the water, Namor could only watch a dark shadow pass above him. Three hundred years he served his people as their king. Three hundred years he fought, protected, and bled for his kingdom. Maybe just this once, he could overcome the trials in Metnal* and leave the crown behind.

But the gods had other plans for the King of Talokan. Behind the dark veil of his eyes, a soft voice called out to him. The voice was different from the songs of the Talokanil and sung in a language he did not recognize. Her voice was lower, deeper, but sweet and comforting. 

A siren song. 

With eyes as heavy as stone, Namor willed his body to move, his hands grasping at rough skin. It was a song that willed him to return to the land of the living, willing him to carry the crown and breathe. 

For a brief moment, he felt the ghost of her hands stroking his face and her lips on his skin. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself alone in a cove with the monsoon slowing into a whisper. 

Running a tired hand over his face, Namor sits up and breathes a deep sigh. His lungs ache from the sharp exhale as he takes in his surroundings. Straight ahead, the wide entrance of the cove welcomes the quiet low tides of the sea. Despite the storm clouds, the horizon brightened into hues of deep blues and violets with the distant call of songbirds singing in the distance. 

In the calmness of dawn, the King of Talokan could still hear the soft whispers of the siren song singing to him in the cove. Like a fog, his senses were enveloped by her, his skin prickling at the memory of her touch and his ears mistaking the sound of songbirds to the likeliness of her voice.

As he stands, his eyes flicker to the reflection of the rising sun in the water, a small burst of light catching his gaze. Ignoring the pain in his back, Namor rushes to where the edge of the rock meets the sea. 

His heart pounds and his head spins as he cradles the item in his hand, his breath halting in his throat.

In his hand was a golden necklace with its delicate chain torn in two, a pendant of a small flower resting in the center. 

The same flower he found on the Yucatán seashore. 

“Yaan in kaxtikech,” he breathes. “Ma importa u tojol.”

I will find you, no matter the cost.

Philippine Sea, December 1910

It had been sixteen years since Namor heard you last.

The skies disagreed with him when he returned to the sea where you rescued him. For several months, the monsoons raged throughout the region. Time to time, he encountered trade ships from the North, South, East, and West sailing through the merciless monsoons. Other times, he found war on the sea with different flags flying through the wind and crimson being spilt on the waters. Echoes of gunshots, fire cannons, and war cries sounded throughout the night with the tumultuous tidal waves consuming everything in its path. 

With each passing ship, Namor heard the distant sound of the siren songs calling to the unsuspecting sailors and soldiers. With their heads barely above water, he watched the sirens bewitch their prey, their eyes glassy and unseeing before falling to their death. More than once, he found himself entranced by their voices. But each time his ears registered their harmonies, he turned away. 

Their voices were beautiful, but they were not you. They were not his sirena. 

Only you were the one to enchant the feathered serpent king. 

Tonight was different from that summer night, for it was the start of the dry season. Up above, the moon glowed brightly in the night sky without a single cloud in sight. The luminous glow of the moon reflected on the surface of the water, but its reflection was distorted by the growing ripples and the quiet tide of the sea. 

The air cooled his skin as Namor reached the surface, his back turned to the full moon. It was almost as if no time had passed since the last time he was in the cove. Although the tides were lower, Namor could still hear the distant melody of your song echoing throughout the cove. It was as if he were drowning in you all over again. 

Sixteen years ago, he first heard your siren song. But it had been fifty-two years since he first met you. 

A deep ache ate at his chest that particular night. After distracting his generals and evading their watchful eyes, Namor sought refuge on the sand. For three hundred years, he reigned as the King of Talokan. When the crown became heavy to bear, he would slip away from his advisors and find solace in visiting his mother on the surface. He carried the souls of the departed in his heart and their memories in his mind, but sometimes the water suffocated him. Nearly two centuries have passed since he last laid his mother to rest and cleaned her bones, but her memory was clear as day in his mind. He may have been born in the water, but his mother had walked on land - it was all in his blood.

“The Talokanil look to me as their King, their God. I would do anything for them,” K’uk’ulkan whispered as he gently placed the water lilies on her grave. “Just as you did everything to protect me.”

He loved his people just as they loved him. He did not regret taking the throne at a young age and the responsibility of leading and protecting them, but there was a heaviness growing deep inside his chest. An emptiness that he often ignored, but was constantly consumed by its hand.

He remembered watching her hair turn silver and the fine lines settling on her skin as he remained young. In the eyes of many, he was still a child. Yet, he carried the years inside him as centuries passed, watching the people he loved age before they breathed their last breath.

“Every day I see our people grow old, but I remain young and know one day I will mourn and miss them as much as I miss you, na’*.”

The only memories K’uk’ulkan had of his father were the stories recounted to him by his mother. When he sat on her knee, he remembered the smile on her face as she showed him the bracelet she wore on her wrist. Tracing the pearls with his fingers, he could feel his father’s love radiating from each bead. Despite their circumstances, he admired the love his father had for his mother, the same love that he carried in his veins. 

“I may be King, but I stand at the throne with no one to share it with, and sleep with no one to hold at my side,” K’uk’ulkan whispered. “I am lonely, na’. So incredibly lonely.”

He wondered what it would be like to love just as his parents did. To have someone to wake up next to, and to fall asleep with every night. To hold and be held by the arms of someone who loves you.

The King of Talokan did not expect an answer, nor did he expect to see white jasmine flowers drifting towards him on the seashore.

The very same flower that rests in his hands now.

The petals are soft in his hands as he places it on the quiet whispers of water. In the beginning, Namor thought of the flowers as a strange coincidence. He knew that such flowers were native to the lands in the East, but he had seen trade ships sail across oceans and between continents. It was possible that cargo could have fallen through the cracks. 

Initially, Namor tried to ignore it and stop himself from jumping to conclusions, but something foreign gripped his heart. A small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there meant for him to love and be loved.

It had all come together when he found your necklace on the rocks. 

For sixteen years, your siren song haunted Namor. He had met sirens and other merfolk throughout his lifetime, but there was something different about your song that called to him. Other siren songs were meant to hypnotize their prey before they drowned or were sacrificed to water deities. Their songs meant destruction to anyone who heard their voice, but your song was sweeter, more gentle. Rather than death, your song brought him back to life. 

That was something he still did not understand. Why would you save him? 

With the jasmine flowers as an offering, the King of Talokan begins to sing.

“X ciih x ciichpan u tz’ u likil yook kaax; tu bin u hopbal tu chumuc can caan tux cu ch’uuytal u zazicunz yookol cab tu lacal kaax chen cici u tal iik u utz’ben booc.”

As he sings, the tidal waves begin to slow into a lull. The ocean did not dare to drown his melody. 

“Pitah nookeex luuz u kaxil a holex ba teneex hee cohiceex uay yokol cabile x zuhuyex x chupalelex hel u.”

The water stills on his last note, but the ocean breeze carries his lullaby throughout the cove. His heart beats heavily, his grip tightening on the necklace as he turns. Dark brown eyes flicker to every corner and crevice of the cove and his ears strain to hear any sudden sounds that could indicate your presence. 

It is not often that the feathered serpent god sings. Rare and far in between, the only times he ever sang with his heart was with his mother. She taught him the songs she learned when she was a child on the surface, especially this song. 

“When I was young, my friends and I would gather and sing this song to keep and bring back a lover.”

“Did it work?”

His mother smiled sweetly at him and playfully poked the tip of his nose. She could not help but laugh when he scrunched his face. “It did. This song was how I met your father. It is the reason you are here.”

He holds his breath as he waits for your arrival in the cove. With each heartbeat echoing in his ears, a heaviness begins to settle in chest. Hope turns to fear, its icy hands crawling at his skin as the waves rise with the tide. 

Shadows of the waves dance across the dimly lit walls. Above, the stars whisper to the moon as the celestial beings await your arrival.

Swallowing the growing ache in his heart, Namor turns his back to the moon and starts his way towards the darkness of the cove. 

A small splash disturbs the silence.

“Maryu ka man kabug ning salu mu, saingsing mu panamdaman ku.”

The King stops in his tracks.

“Balu ku, atindian ku.”

It is you. His sirena.

“Akit me ing bulan a masala, karin mikit kata.”

Like ivy growing around a stone, your song ensnares him. 

“E na ka tumakut, e na ku naman migaganaka.”

Slowly, he turns around. Underneath the silver halo of the bright moon, you rise to the surface. 

“Uling balu ku balang bengi mikikit kata king lalam ning bulan a masala.”

Hanging onto each word, Namor walks towards the edge, his senses enveloped by you. Your voice is soft and deep, comforting and captivating as you swim closer to meet him.

“Parati mu sa’ng tandanan, muran man atiu ya ing bulan.”

Your dark eyes meet his gaze as you look up at him. His eyes never leave yours as you sing the final note with a small smile gracing your lips. Time seems to still, his heart skipping a beat as you finally meet where the land meets the sea.

You are more beautiful than he could have imagined. White jasmine flowers adorn your dark hair like little stars shining in the night sky. In the moonlight, he catches a glimpse of your dark green tail, its scales reflecting the glow of the moon beneath the surface of the water. 

His sirena, his lool.*

He finally found you.

The feathered serpent god slowly falls to his knees right in front of you, his head bowed in respect.

“Because of you, my people still have a King,” his voice is gentle as he speaks. “You saved my life, and I will forever thank you.” 

He still remembers that morning when he returned to his kingdom. For almost a week, Namor had left Talokan in search of the Spanish ships across the Pacific and placed his leadership into his advisors and top generals. This was not the first time he left to protect the borders and identity of Talokan, but it was the first time he did not come back on the day he promised.

Fear flooded his mind when he fell through the sky. He was always strong enough to destroy his enemies, but he was never this defenseless when his unconscious body hit the water. Any remaining survivors could have exploited his lack of defenses, but he was stunned to wake up in a sea cove with his wounds nearly healed. 

You reach for him, your gentle hands cradling his face as you silently plead for him to look at you. Almost hesitantly, he follows your command.

“Who are you?”

He has many names, but he wishes for you to call him only by one name. 

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan.”

K’uk’ulkan closes his eyes and leans into your touch as your fingers delicately trace his face, your voice enchanting him once more as you repeat his name. 

He remembered your palm caressing his cheek and your lips on his skin. As King of Talokan, he often hid this soft side of himself away from his people. But with you, his walls crumbled like tidal waves dissolving castles in the sand. 

Pulling himself out of his trance, he opens his eyes and covers your hand with his own, his thumb lightly tracing over your knuckles. 

“What is your name?”

Your voice is quiet as you speak, almost as if you are hesitant to reveal yourself. 

“Y/N.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.

K’uk’ulkan repeats your name as he grasps your hand and gently raises it to his lips. 

For a brief moment, the King catches a flicker of sadness in your eyes, but it vanishes as you conceal it with a small smile. 

Little did he know that he is the first person to call you by your real name and touch you with such care in two hundred years.

Not wanting to frighten you, K’uk’ulkan softens his voice as he speaks. “I believe I have something that belongs to you.”

Confusion passes over your face, your brows furrowed and your lips parted in a silent question. 

Although he did not know the importance of your necklace, he noticed the rust and scratches that eroded at the delicate metals. The necklace was worn with love, but it was crafted by human hands and not intended to withstand the cruelty of the ocean. With care, he brought the necklace to his jewelers to restore it to its former glory with the addition of two pearls and the revived jasmine pendant in the center. 

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as he presents your necklace to you, your eyes wide as they brim with tears. 

“May I?” He asks quietly.

You nod and bow your head.

With soft hands, the feathered serpent god leans forward and places it over your head. Once it settles over you, you cradle the pendant and pearls in your palms in awe. 

“I thought that this was gone forever,” you whisper as you look up at him, a stray tear streaming down your cheek. “Thank you for bringing it back to me.”

“Nothing is gone forever, only lost until it is found.” K’uk’ulkan cups your face gently, his warm hand brushing away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. 

His heart warms at the sound of your soft laughter and the sight of your smile. How true his words were. In the fifty-two years he had met you, he thought you were a dream, a possible figment of his imagination that his mind created to cope with the growing emptiness in his bones. But you were real. You were the one watching over him when he found the flowers on the seashore and rescued him from the scorching fires that raged across the sea. He vowed to find you, but he had gotten it wrong. 

Each time, you were the one to find him. 

Looking into your eyes now, he finds himself drowning in them. Dark, deep, and inviting, a silent storm brewing inside of them. The King of Talokan had seen eyes like yours before– eyes that look young, but have seen years of pain, heartbreak, loss, and grief– yet, there was a vulnerability to them. Despite the centuries you carried in your heart, he knew and understood the violence you endured to be this kind. 

You thread your fingers with his, your hands locked in a delicate embrace as you begin to pull yourself away from the rocks and swim closer to the waves. 

You call his name tenderly, your voice a soft plea. “K’uk’ulkan.”

With a gentle tug on his hand, the feathered serpent god descends into the water. 

Come with me. 

There is no song to entice him. It is only you.

Long ago, K’uk’ulkan heard tales of a red string of fate that tied two soulmates together from the Far East. Perhaps it is the red string that pulls him closer to you now as you guide him deeper into the water, your hands entwined together, your lips whispering against his and your tail curling around his legs. With your dark eyes and gentle voice, he has no choice but to follow. 

Only the bright full moon bears witness to the reunion of the sirena and her feathered serpent king disappearing into the sea.

Translations

Alang cuenta (Kapampangan) - Useless, no meaning

Aswang (Tagalog) - Monster

Potang paintunan mu ku, lumwal ka, talanga ka (Kapampangan) - When you look for me, go outside, look up

Akit me ing bulan a masala karin mikit kata (Kapampangan) - We will see each other when there is a bright moon.

E na ka matakut, e na ku naman migaganaka (Kapampangan) - Do not be afraid, do not worry.

Uling balu ku balang beni mikikit ka king laman ning bulan a masala (Kapampangan) - I know one night we will meet underneath a bright moon.

Na’ (Yucatec Mayan) - Mother

Metnal (Yucatec Mayan) - The Yucatec Mayan term for the Underworld. Not to be confused with Xibalba, “the Place of Fright.”

The Flower Song (Yucatec Mayan) - 1, 2

The Flower Song is originally ancient Maya lyrical poetry from the Songs of Dzitbalche. According to John Curl, the Flower Song was a “rite” to keep a lover that was traditionally sung by a group of women–typically under the supervision of an older woman– and performed under the moonlight. Later parts of the poem mention offering plumeria flowers to create a love potion. 

For the purpose of this fic, K’uk’ulkan learned the song from his mother. 

X ciih x ciichpan u tz’ u likil yook kaax; tu bin u hopbal tu chumuc can caan tux cu ch’uuytal u zazicunz yookol cab tu lacal kaax chen cici u tal iik u utz’ben booc - The most alluring moon has risen over the forest; it is going to burn suspended in the center of the sky to lighten all the earth, all the woods, all the lights shining on it all. 

Pitah nookeex luuz u kaxil a holex ba teneex hee cohiceex uay yokol cabile x zuhuyex x chupalelex hel u - Take off your clothes, let down your hair, become as you were when you arrived here on Earth. 

Maryu ka man kabug ning salu mu, saingsing mu panamdaman ku (Kapampangan) - Your chest/heart will feel heavy when we are apart

Parati mu sa’ng tandanan, muran man atiu ya ing bulan (Kapampangan) - Do not forget that the moon will be there when it rains.

For the complete lyrics and song, please refer to the YouTube link here. 

#namor x reader #namor x fem!reader #k'uk'ulkan x reader #namor x filipino!reader #namor x filipina!reader #namor x woc!reader #namor x asian!reader #namor imagine #namor x you #the amount of research i poured into this to make sure i did it right- if there are any errors please let me know #please be gentle with your feedback too #I'm sorry for using emojis but i do not know HOW to make a nice banner like some y'all between paragraphs

[empress-simps]

hi po, pleaseeee do a harry x filipina!reader fic bc i am so deprived of writing like that

Hi darling! Thank you for your request🥰I’ve wanted to write something about a reader being filipina but I haven’t really got anything in mind yet. I made this more of like snippets/head canon type? I just think it’ll really highlight the filipina! Reader better. I hope you don’t mind, Enjoy! (It’s a bit crack-ish hihi)

Harry Potter with a Filipina! Reader

“My gosh, ang lamig dito.” (it’s so cold here)

You shivered, walking towards the great hall with your fellow Filipino students, staring at the interior and overall admiring the place. It was completely different from the Philippine Wizarding School, from the uniforms, infrastructure, ambience, and down to the weather. The uniform you had did little to protect you from the harsh air of the Highlands of Scotland.

You were sent by your school from the Philippines to Hogwarts to be a part of an exchange student program for a year. Hogwarts also sent selected students to the Philippine Wizarding School to learn different techniques in spell casting, potion making, and how the different the countries are in terms of culture.

Scanning the great hall, you saw a bunch of students with curious glances, you felt yourself get a bit self-conscious. “Beh, look!” Your friend whispered to your ear, tugging your uniform before pointing in a certain direction with her lips discreetly.

“Ay shet, ang gwapo.” (Oh shit, he’s handsome)

You blushed as your eyes wandered in the Gryffindor table, looking at an oblivious Harry who was talking to Ron and Hermione. Glaring at your friend playfully, you pinched her side, making her wince. “Aray!” (Ouch!)

Hermione was sent to be your guide in your first day and luck seemed to be on your side as Harry tagged along with her to help

“Hello, my name is Hermione! Professor Mcgonagall assigned me to tour you around Hogwarts.” She smiles, holding out her hand. You took it and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hermione. I’m Y/n.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but my friend was insisting to come along with me.” She had a knowing smile on her face as she points to Harry beside her. You felt your cheeks heat up, it was the guy earlier. “Ah it’s no problem.” You smiled at him.

“I’m Harry.” He held out his hand, you took it, beaming at him. “Hi Harry, I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

Harry wouldn’t admit it, but Ron and Hermione know he developed a small crush on you as time went by.

It took Harry several months (much to Hermione and Ron’s dismay) to ask you out on a date.

“Y/n! Wait!” Harry ran, as he tried to catch up with you as your friend chats with you, walking to the great hall to grab lunch. Both of you turned, “Uy, Harry!” You smiled as your friend shot you a teasing smile.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” Excuse me? Did you hear that right? “Like, as a date?” The words fell out of your lips before you can even stop it, making your friend snort. “Ang landi, ha.”

Harry blushed, scratching the back of his neck as he looked away. “Y-yeah…”

“Of course, I’d love to.”

Harry was the one who confessed he likes you first. Of course you were happy but if he wants to be with you, he has to do it the Filipino way.

After a month of dates, he decided to confess his feelings to you.

“Y/n, gusto kita.” He blurts out on a random study date you guys are having. Your eyes widened as you blushed. Harry, speaking tagalog? Since when?

“H-how…?”

“You could say that I’ve been secretly practicing…” He chuckles nervously, your heart filled with warmth.

“Gusto rin kita, Harry.” She grins, seeing his eyes light up. It was definitely worth it talking to other Filipino students to practice his pronunciation when he saw the look on your face.

“But you need to court me first. It’s a Filipino thing.” You giggled, seeing confusion wash over his face.

When you go back to Philippines for a vacation, best believe he will tag along with you.

Your parents love him, and he quickly became part of the family.

“Aba, so handsome naman! Come inside, anak!” Your mom ushered him inside your house as your dad carried both of your luggage. Shaking your head, you laughed at Harry’s reaction.

 You mostly spent your vacation touring with him around your province, taking him to beaches, making him ride a jeep, trycicle, and playing with your little cousins.

Your uncles also made him sing on the karaoke, and he was shocked when all your family are great singers. (Harry wouldn’t like to sing in front of your family again thank you very much)

Your family will dote on him, making him try various filipino foods and making him tons of what he liked.

“Harry, anak! Come here, try this! It’s called chicken adobo.” Your mom beckons him over in the kitchen, wanting him to try what she cooked. Since Harry isn’t used to the hot climate of the Philippines, you can always see him sporting a white sando and shorts, a handheld mini electric fan always in his hand, his hair a bit messy, and cheeks quite rosy due to the heat.

Safe to say adobo, sinigang, and lumpia quickly became his favorites. He will beg you to make them when you’re back in Hogwarts, since you decided to transfer. They also managed to convince him to try balut and dinuguan (although that will be the first and last)

You made him try some Filipino snacks too like Piattos, Clover, Pancit Canton (his favorite), Chicharron, as well as kikiam, fish ball, and tokneneng. Harry bought a bunch of snacks for your friends to try when you get back to Hogwarts.

Blushes when you call him nicknames like gwapo/pogi/mahal

“Pssst! Pogi!” You whisper, trying to catch his attention during a class, Harry blushed as he turns to you. “Ano nanaman?” (What is it again?) He rolls his eyes playfully, trying not to show you the effect you had on him.

“What’s the answer for number 5?”

“Amortentia Potion, may kiss ako maya ha?” He grins cheekily. (I get a kiss later, okay?)

“Sige na nga.” (Fine)

Both of you were hit in the head by Professor Snape.

He learns Filipino just for you; but most of his knowledge are just from hearing you swear.

“Mahal, why do you always say Put-“

“Harry, no-“

Will be absolutely floored when you hand Malfoy his ass back to him.

“Dami mong alam, Malfoy!” (You know a lot, Malfoy)” You scoffed, Draco was being a git to Harry again. Draco raised a brow in surprise.

“Huh?”

“Hatdog.” (Hot Dog (filipino inside joke ig))

He frowns, face turning red. “You making fun of me, L/n? Speaking gibberish again, I bet.” He tries to make fun of you, awaiting your reaction.

“Tanga tanga ka kasi kaya ‘di mo alam.” (You’re dumb that’s why you don’t know (it))

Draco was about to hex you, but you were faster.

Ron gawked as you punched Draco, other Filipinos who transferred hyping you up. “Eyyyy! Y/n lang malakas!”

"Merlin, I'm so glad she's in our side." Ron blanched,Harry visibly winced as you landed a solid punch. You scoffed, seeing him and his goons run away before turning to others.

“Why do you even tolerate his poor excuse of bullying?” She frowns, looking at Harry.

“You guys won’t survive Philippine schools.” “Just what exactly happens when there’s a fight in your school?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

#harry potter headcanon #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x filipina reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy

[izukunii]

JAM TOMORROW AND JAM YESTERDAY

featuring: sakusa kiyoomi x filipina!reader

contains: hamster wheel thoughts about children, there's two children (not yours) wandering a pharmacy so-- "bad parenting?", mentions of pregnancy, self insert!reader (tagalog pet names), fluff to “angst” if you squint

summary: sakusa never wanted kids until he wanted you

warnings: references a quote from alice and wonderland in this work: “the rule is jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today.”

sakusa kiyoomi doesn't like things he can't control. he can't control other people, can't control what they do or what they touch. and even as loud as he could howl, he can't make someone leave or stay whichever way he wanted, at home or on the court.

and besides the obvious bacterial infestations, knowing he could never really control them was one of the reasons why he didn't want to have kids.

didn't.

until he found you, the mere idea of a child prancing around with jammy hands, sticky and dirty little fingers touching anything and everything, made him sick to his stomach.

but sakusa can only control what he can control.

he was on his way home from practice when he'd gotten your text.

i'm late.

sakusa sees a future flash before his eyes, a future full of jam hands. jam hands today, tomorrow, jam hands in his space. in his house. one little one running a-mock around the house with their jam hands and-

a car horn is the dramatic hook that yanks him off the stage of paranoia. before he goes at the green light, he presses his forehead against the steering wheel and jerks back into the headrest. he takes the necessary minute to ground himself, watching the car skirt around his. when he's centered, he pulls over. he takes his phone off the holder and reroutes his gps to the nearest pharmacy.

it just so happens to be a mom-and-pop shop, full of far too many candy displays to pass fda approval, and complete with who could only be the disinterested daughter of said mom-and-pop working the register, jam hands knuckle deep in a full case of candy popped open right on her checkout counter.

rather than entertain a conversation her, he lets his eyes scan the signage until he locks his gaze on ‘family planning.’

his head is still spinning. jam hands. jam hands. jam hands.

a warm laughter is the dramatic hook that yanks him off the stage of paranoia, and sakusa looks up from the box he’d been studying on his way to the registers, that was before he got lost in the jam, and there’s a kid a mere five inches away from his face, and hers is covered in jam.

sticky strawberry jam, smeared across tubby, rosy cheeks as she reaches sweet, pudgy hands up to reach for a candy tucked into a tree-like display beside them.

and sakusa can’t breathe, but not because of the jam hands.

the girl has thick, dark, curly hair. just like him. and her eyes are the same as yours, bright and warm like shining suns glowing over the oceans of all your emotions tucked away in a clever gleam.

she can't be more than eight years old but she's almost up to his hip. he remembers that stage, tall enough to brag about it but not tall enough to count for anything. still she's lithe, floating across the tiles to try and reach her favor-- a blue sucker that's all the way at the top of the display.

why is blue your favorite? he'd once asked you after you'd plucked yourself a similar prize from a similar place.

blue raspberry is the best flavor of anything, omi-ko. it just is. was your perfect response.

around the corner comes another little one, a boy, with hair a mess across his face that reminds him of your tornado of tresses every morning. his laugh is boisterous and contagious, not unlike yours.

he's taller than who sakusa assumes to be his sister. plucking a red sucker from the display comes with ease, and there's that joyful melody once more.

cherry's always my go to. that had been his follow up. it's the same every time.

after all, cherry was and always would be cherry. that was something he could control. he could control his choice, bet safe. and there was never a cherry flavor sakusa disagreed with.

he attempts to soften the sigh he lets out, but the children hear him as if the breath was a hailstorm. four eyes blink up at him. even as he grabs the blue sucker from the tree, he watches the smudge of jam contort as the little girl phases through expressions from fear to surprise. the change is more beautiful than he thought. he passes it down to her wordlessly and sets the pregnancy test on the counter.

he readjusts his mask as he hands the cashier his card and soon his attention settles back on the girl. sakusa doesn't hesitate to open the wrapper when she lifts it his way, and he crouches to give it back to her.

now eye level with the dreaded jam schmear, he does a much better job concealing his sigh when he asks her, "if there were such a thing as. . . blue raspberry jam, would you pick it?"

"do you. . have bwlue jam?" that is her follow up.

he tells her he's sorry that he doesn't. that he hopes not one, not two, but four free blue raspberry suckers plucked from the tree will make up for it. and he rightfully earn's jam's forgiveness.

sakusa kiyoomi can only control what he can control, and because he couldn't control himself, here he drives the semi-familiar route home to your shared apartment from the mom-and-pop pharmacy.

so sakusa sets out to control what he can control. he carries the test box hand over hand with you. you sit up on the bathroom counter, a good six feet away from the test, with your eyes squeezed tightly shut. he sits on the ledge of the tub and softly traces his fingers down your legs to soothe their restlessness.

sakusa sees a future flash before his eyes, a future full of jam hands. jam hands today, tomorrow. and the hands, and the jam, they're not just on a girl or a boy in a pharmacy. they're hands from your hands, and from his. hands the two of you made.

and maybe he can't control jam hands but he could certainly teach them--

“you were worried about jam hands, weren’t you, kiyoomi?” you ask when you hop off the counter to retrieve the results you left on the toilet seat.

hearing his name is the dramatic hook that yanks him off the stage of paranoia. paranoia however, had now become a hopeful daydream: that maybe jam hands were okay, would be okay, if they were yours and his.

"jam yesterday, and jam tomorrow—” you start, reciting the quote almost perfectly in a shrill voice, using the comedy to try and hide the disappointment on your face, disappointment you didn’t anticipate feeling.

because the test is negative.

“today isn't a jam day, omi-ko."

sakusa kiyoomi can only control what he can control. he’s always hated that about himself.

he rises from the tub and bounds over to you in two steps. the test falls right into the bin as he reaches for your hands.

he kisses you. you taste like blue raspberry.

“jam tomorrow, then?”

#my work #my writing #self insert #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu #filipina!reader

[carlosfruitsnacks]

"the manliligaw" - part 4

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5

summary:

— Camilo, Carlos, and you have grown closer over time. Your mother decided to invite the boys for a trip to your home country, the Philippines! You're sure they would love it, plus what's the worst thing that could happen?

genre:

— modern au, fluff & humor

notes:

— female and Filipina reader. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me if I got something wrong. Although I am very fluent in Tagalog so there would be Tagalog dialogs here and there I'll try to provide some translations for them

warning/s:

— none

a/n:

— i know you guys have been waiting for another update for this series so i'm sorry i took so long to update it lmao. the idea for this part came from @pochi-moochika, she sent it to me on discord everybody say thank you to her

After many, marvelous, and messy events involving two boys fighting to woo one girl, things have become alright so far. Now that the serenading, spoken poetry, and love letters are over, you've taken the opportunity to get to know the Madrigal brothers more. It seems like you don't know them enough because they are always full of surprises especially when together.

Today, Camilo and Carlos made their way to your house again as per usual. The three of you have been hanging out and forming a genuine friendship. Both of your families are amused about it. The two knocked on your door in unison, they were greeted by your mother's friendly face.

"Oh! Mga anak!"

"Hello, tita!"

The two greeted politely. You taught the twins a few Tagalog phrases that's why they started calling your mother "tita" and your father "tito". Your mother lets the brothers inside, they noticed a couple of luggage resting in the living room. Camilo raised a brow.

"Are you going somewhere, tita?"

"Oh, yes! We're flying to the Philippines for a visit, tomorrow"

Your mother explained. Carlos wasn't fond of the idea at first, but he guessed that you were probably missing your home country. Camilo had a pout on his face and sighed.

"Aww, but we were going to watch a movie with [Name] tomorrow"

You walked down the stairs holding your luggage when you noticed Camilo and Carlos were there. You give them a smile and settled your things down, Carlos crossed his arms.

"You didn't tell us you're going away tomorrow"

"Chill, Carlos. It's not like I'll be gone forever, just for the week"

You replied. You realized how Camilo and Carlos both had downcast expressions on their faces, it was cute, to say the least, but you can tell they were going to miss you.

"Don't worry, we'll call each other on the phone from time to time"

"It won't be twice as fun, though"

"I know, I'll just make it up to you both when I get back, okay?"

You reassured the twins, the two replied with a defeated sigh and nodded. Your mother, who witnessed the interaction walked into the room with an idea.

"Why won't you two tag along with us to the Philippines?"

"Huh?! Bakit, ma?"

You turn to your mother in surprise, Camilo and Carlos were equally as baffled. Your mother chuckles.

"We don't mind bringing the twins with us, as long as it's okay with their parents"

"¡Sí! We'll ask mamá and papá!"

"Great! Go and prepare your things because we're leaving early tomorrow!"

Quickly, Camilo and Carlos thanked your mother before leaving. You faced your mother with a frown but she only sent you a teasing smile. You face-palmed yourself before turning away. It's not like you had a problem with the brothers tagging along but the idea made you feel awkward. Though you felt sure they're gonna love the trip to the Philippines, what's the worst thing that could happen?

Your family along with Camilo and Carlos landed in the Philippines before noon. You can tell the two were eager to wander around the new environment. The boys didn't tell you the lengths they did just so their mother would allow them to go on the trip.

Inside the rented car, Camilo and Carlos stared in awe at the scenery outside the window. A proud smile was on your lips as you watched them. Sooner, all of you arrived at your grandparent's house, they were shocked but pleased to find the twins came with your family. As all of you settled down your luggage, your grandmother goes to you and hands you money.

"[Name] pwede bang pumunta ka sa palengke at bumili ng uulamin natin mamaya?"

"Oh, sure, lola"

You said as your grandma smiled. You haven't been to the palengke for a while but you can still remember where it was located. You glanced at Camilo and Carlos, who decided to change into a pair of tank tops and shorts for the warm weather. You blushed at the sight of their exposed freckled skin but played it off with a playful smile. They see you walk over to them.

"Wanna go out for an adventure?"

The brothers shared a look and nodded frantically. The three of you head out to the palengke. Camilo and Carlos get to experience riding on a Filipino jeepney for the first time, and they enjoyed it. When you all arrived, you split the money you had and gave it to them.

"Can you guys buy some meat and vegetables?"

"Sure"

"Okay, I'll meet you two back at the entrance"

With that, you, Camilo, and Carlos went in different directions to buy some ingredients. You enjoyed your time wandering around the palengke before buying what you need, you missed doing this.

Meanwhile, Camilo founds himself with eyes glued on him as he walked by. His cheeks turned red when he saw a few of the women whispering and smiling at him. The least he can do was give them a tiny wave. As he walked further into the palengke taking in the sights, he discovers that he got lost.

"Shit"

He cussed, he looked around but everything looks the same. He shrugged, he'll run into either his brother or you somehow. His eyes landed on a particular area where people seemed to be grilling food. Filled with curiosity, he walked over to it and found it was street food. Immediately, his mouth watered as he pulled out the money you gave to him.

On the other hand, Carlos glared at every single person that cast him a look. He was too proud to admit that he got lost while looking for vegetables to buy. He could ask directions but it was out of his comfort zone, he decided to have a look around the palengke thinking he'll find his way back somehow. Before he got bored, a shimmer caught the corner of his eye. Carlos turned and discovered a stall filled with various knick-knacks.

"Wow"

He took a look closer and found interesting toys. There were marbles, a spinning top, colorful kites, and other things he couldn't name. Carlos pulled the money from his pocket and looked around him before discreetly entering the stall.

You made your way back to the entrance carrying bags of meat, vegetables, and needed ingredients. Camilo and Carlos weren't there yet so you decided to wait. Minutes turned into hours and you grow worried, what if something bad happened to them? You bite your nails and decided to go search for them. Looking left and right, you don't spot either of the Madrigal twins. You asked a few people if they saw them but none of them seemed to have noticed the brothers.

You were frantically searching for Camilo and Carlos all over the palengke, merely panicking. You should've known that this place was too big, what if they got robbed or hurt? The thought scared you as you resorted to calling out their names out loud, hoping they'll respond.

"Camilo?! Carlos?!"

You called out. You won't ever forgive yourself if something horrible happened to them, your lips wobbled as tears slowly formed in your eyes. You try to calm yourself down when your eyes caught a familiar guy standing by a food stall. You walked closer and you could've collapsed in relief because it was Camilo, fortunately, Carlos was with him.

"Oh my god! I thought something bad happened...what are you two doing?"

You stopped and stared at the pair. Camilo grinned, mouth full of food, he was holding three sticks of isaw and barbeque. He was wearing a silly hat on his head, his other hand was holding a packet of pogs. You glanced at Carlos and he too was munching on some street food, he was carrying a bag full of Filipino toys, it was the biggest you have ever seen. You were speechless.

"These food are so delicious, [Name]!"

"Yeah, plus I found these cool toys, I'm sure Toñito would love them"

"This is the best! I can't wait to brag about it to Mirabel"

"...[Name]? Are you alright?"

The twins gave you a concerned look. Your eye twitched as you drew in a deep breath, you placed your hand on your hips as a tight smile made the brothers gulp.

"So, you're telling me while I was worried sick that both of you could've been killed, you two were out here buying food and toys?!"

"Lo siento, [Name]..."

"Oh no, we're coming home and I'm never gonna take you two out with me again!"

You scolded them and proceeded to grab Camilo and Carlos by the ear before dragging them out the palengke and back to your grandparents' house. You explained everything to your family as the two sat there guilty with reddish ears.

"Come on, Camilo and Carlos were just exploring"

"Nag-aalala ako sa kanila ng tapos ayun pala gumagala lang sila!"

You were arguing with your siblings in full Tagalog, you sounded terrifying. Fortunately, after dinner, you were no longer angry at them and apologized for shouting at them earlier. Camilo and Carlos never took it seriously and you were glad. The three of you decided to go watch a movie while eating Filipino snacks. Taking Camilo and Carlos with you to the Philippines wasn't a bad idea after all.

taglist: @pochi-moochika , @cahmilo , @vanevafu , @irisia-ckzkb1109 , @elegantkidfansoul , @candykamikun , @justzei , @try-cry-why-try , @nanaisheretomessupthings , @eichenhouseproperty , @nort-the-simp , @megs2world, @ducky-is-dead-inside ...join here

masterlist

#encanto #disney encanto #encanto fanfiction #encanto fanfic #carlos madrigal #carlos my beloved #carlos madrigal my beloved #camilo madrigal #camilo my beloved #camilo madrigal my beloved #carlos madrigal x reader #carlos madrigal x y/n #carlos x you #carlos x reader #carlos x y/n #camilo madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal x y/n #camilo x you #camilo x y/n #camilo x reader #camilo madrigal x reader x carlos madrigal #carlos madrigal x reader x camilo madrigal #carlos x reader x camilo #camilo x reader x carlos #jay's fanfics™️ #jay's fluff fics™️

[miss-latam-sexy-tournament]

Round 2

Bail Organa. Good father and husband. Fought for a long time against tyranny, and for latine representation in star wars. His planet is implied to be Latine, and his wife is very implied to be Filipina. His actor is Puerto Rican. I would write something better, but I can't understand Star Wars.

El Charro Negro. Originally from a very loving but poor family, el charro negro was unsatisfied with his life and made a deal with the devil. Riches for his soul. El charro later realized he made a mistake, but it was already too late. Now he's condemned to eternal wandering, he travels on his horse and looks for anyone to make a deal with. Riches for their souls. He's Mexican.

#miss sexy latam tournament #tournament poll #poll tournament #poll #tournament

[somediyprojects]

Bella Filipina Designs: Olivia, the Forest Witch designed by Drin Parilla.

Something wicked this way comes as Bella Filipina Designs presents you with its Halloween offering - OLIVIA, THE FOREST WITCH BF 052 "Shrouded by mist and the silence of the night, Olivia wanders in the black forest, her realm where spirits and mystical creatures dwell. Her olive gown trails behind, sweeping the fallen leaves and dark earth. The all-seeing owl keeps her company, making her safe. While she works her magic, healing animals and protecting the woods but for you, dear stranger, don’t venture too close as her beauty and charm come with a price. She is as mysterious and enchanted as the forest around her. Beware…" Stitch Count: 185x300 Stitches Olivia is a wonderful side-by-side companion with our "Bellatrix". Recommended Fabric Color: "Fall Foliage" by Fiberlicious Yummy Fibers.

#cross stitch #inspo #x #bella filipina designs

[andreasphilippineslitblog]

Ten Interesting Filipino Novels

1. In the country by Mia Alvar

In The Country is a stunning, lyrical work of fiction presented in the form of nine short stories. In 2016, Mia Alvar put contemporary Filipina authors on the map with her first published piece, giving voice to Filipino men and women in the diaspora. Her short stories about emigrants, wanderers, exiles, and expats across the globe expertly distinguishes the Philippine experience for each protagonist, while upholding the universal likeness of all Filipinos around the world and “in the country.” The tales of a migrant worker in Saudi Arabia, the sighting of a “White Lady,” and a New York pharmacist smuggling drugs to his sickly father in Manila will illicit nostalgia for many Filipinos looking for glimpses of home. (thenextsomewhere.com)

2. Dauntless by Elisa A. Bonnin

Seri’s world is defined by very clear rules: The beasts prowl the forest paths and hunt the People. The valiant explore the unknown world, kill the beasts, and gain strength from the armor they make from them. As an assistant to Eshai Unbroken, a young valor commander with a near-mythical reputation, Seri has seen first-hand the struggle to keep the beasts at bay and ensure the safety of the spreading trees where the People make their homes. That was how it always had been, and how it always would be. Until the day Seri encounters Tsana. Tsana is, impossibly, a stranger from the unknown world who can communicate with the beasts – a fact that makes Seri begin to doubt everything she’s ever been taught. As Seri and Tsana grow closer, their worlds begin to collide, with deadly consequences. Somehow, with the world on the brink of war, Seri will have to find a way to make peace. (yourtitakate.com) 3. America Is Not the Heart by Elaine Castillo

How many lives can one person lead in a single lifetime? When Hero de Vera arrives in America, disowned by her parents in the Philippines, she's already on her third. Her uncle, Pol, who has offered her a fresh start and a place to stay in the Bay Area, knows not to ask about her past. And his younger wife, Paz, has learned enough about the might and secrecy of the De Vera family to keep her head down. Only their daughter, Roni, asks Hero why her hands seem to constantly ache.

Illuminating the violent political history of the Philippines in the 1980s and 1990s and the insular immigrant communities that spring up in the suburban United States with an uncanny ear for the unspoken intimacies and pain that get buried by the duties of everyday life and family ritual, Castillo delivers a powerful, increasingly relevant novel about the promise of the American dream and the unshakable power of the past. In a voice as immediate and startling as those of Junot Díaz and NoViolet Bulawayo, America Is Not the Heart is a sprawling, soulful telenovela of a debut novel. With exuberance, muscularity, and tenderness, here is a family saga; an origin story; a romance; a narrative of two nations and the people who leave home to grasp at another, sometimes turning back. (goodreads.com)

4. When The Elephants Dance by Tess Uriza Holthe

In the waning days of World War II, as the Japanese and U.S. forces battle to possess the Philippine Islands, the Karangalan family hides with their neighbors in a cramped cellar, where they glean hope from the family stories and folktales they tell each other. These stories of love, survival, and family blend the supernatural with the rich, little known history of the Philippines, the centuries of Spanish colonization, the power of the Catholic church, and the colorful worlds of the Spanish, Mestizo, and Filipino cultures.

As the villagers tell their stories in the darkened cellar below, Holthe masterfully weaves in the stories of three brave Filipinos--a teenage brother and sister and a guerilla fighter--as they become caught in the battle against the vicious Japanese forces above ground.

Inspired by her father's firsthand accounts of this period, Tess Uriza Holthe brings to magical and terrifying life a story of the hope and courage needed to survive in wartime. (goodreads.com)

5. Noli Me Tángere (Touch Me Not) by José Rizal

In more than a century since its appearance, José Rizal's Noli Me Tangere has become widely known as the great novel of the Philippines. A passionate love story set against the ugly political backdrop of repression, torture, and murder, "The Noli," as it is called in the Philippines, was the first major artistic manifestation of Asian resistance to European colonialism, and Rizal became a guiding conscience—and martyr—for the revolution that would subsequently rise up in the Spanish province. (goodreads.com)

6. Gun Dealer's Daughter by Gina Apostol

At university in Manila, young, bookish Soledad Soliman falls in with radical friends, defying her wealthy parents and their society crowd. Drawn in by two romantic young rebels, Sol initiates a conspiracy that quickly spirals out of control. Years later, far from her homeland, Sol reconstructs her fractured memories, writing a confession she hopes will be her salvation. Illuminating the dramatic history of the Marcos-era Philippines, this story of youthful passion is a tour de force. (ginaapostol.com)

7. Sophie Go's Lonely Hearts Club by Roselle Lim

A new heartfelt novel about the power of loneliness and the strength of love that overcomes it by critically acclaimed author Roselle Lim.

Newly minted professional matchmaker Sophie Go has returned to Toronto, her hometown, after spending three years in Shanghai. Her job is made quite difficult, however, when she is revealed as a fraud—she never actually graduated from matchmaking school. In a competitive market like Toronto, no one wants to take a chance on an inexperienced and unaccredited matchmaker, and soon Sophie becomes an outcast.

In dire search of clients, Sophie stumbles upon a secret club within her condo complex: the Old Ducks, seven septuagenarian Chinese bachelors who never found love. Somehow, she convinces them to hire her, but her matchmaking skills are put to the test as she learns the depths of loneliness, heartbreak, and love by attempting to make the hardest matches of her life. (goodreads.com)

8. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay

Jay Reguero plans to spend the last semester of his senior year playing video games before heading to the University of Michigan in the fall. But when he discovers that his Filipino cousin Jun was murdered as part of President Duterte's war on drugs, and no one in the family wants to talk about what happened, Jay travels to the Philippines to find out the real story.

Hoping to uncover more about Jun and the events that led to his death, Jay is forced to reckon with the many sides of his cousin before he can face the whole horrible truth -- and the part he played in it. (amazon.com)

9. Wicked As You Wish by Rin Chupeco

When a hidden prince, a girl with secrets, a ragtag group of unlikely heroes, and a legendary firebird come together…something wicked is going down. Many years ago, the magical Kingdom of Avalon was left encased in ice when the Snow Queen waged war. Its former citizens are now refugees in a world mostly devoid of magic. Which is why the crown prince and his protectors are stuck in…Arizona. Prince Alexei, the sole survivor of the Avalon royal family, is hiding in a town so boring, magic doesn’t even work there. Few know his secret identity, but his friend Tala is one of them. A new hope for their abandoned homeland reignites when a famous creature of legend, the Firebird, appears for the first time in decades. Alex and Tala must unite with a ragtag group of new friends to journey back to Avalon for a showdown that will change the world as they know it. (yourtitakate.com)

10. The Woman Who Had Two Navels and Tales of the Tropical Gothic by Nick Joaquin

Nick Joaquin is widely considered one of the greatest Filipino writers, but he has remained little-known outside his home country despite writing in English. Set amid the ruins of Manila devastated by World War II, his stories are steeped in the post-colonial anguish and hopes of his era and resonate with the ironic perspectives on colonial history of Gabriel García Márquez and Mario Vargas Llosa. His work meditates on the questions and challenges of the Filipino individual’s new freedom after a long history of colonialism, exploring folklore, centuries-old Catholic rites, the Spanish colonial past, magical realism, and baroque splendor and excess. This collection features his best-known story, “The Woman Who Had Two Navels,” centered on Philippine emigrants living in Hong Kong and later expanded into a novel, the much-anthologized stories “May Day Eve” and “The Summer Solstice” and a canonic play, A Portrait of the Artist as Filipino. As Penguin Classics previously launched his countryman Jose Rizal to a wide audience, now Joaquin will find new readers with the first American collection of his work. (amazon.com)

[inaaontheskyways]

Since all my OCs come from different corners of the Spiral and are of varying mythological beings, I decided to compile a list of both their origins and occupations!

(Sidenote: some details about certain worlds! Those in purple belong or were reimagined by me, those in green are just canon worlds renamed by me, and those in red belong to @prince-of-khrysalis and @brewbellwizardry!)

Caelum: Eva (Filipina-Palestinian-Calé/angel; astralmancy/Eden caretaker)

Lemuria:

Kalpana (Nepali/cthulhi; spatiomancy/avatar)

David (Jewish American/lich; chronomancy/conman)

Milagro (Dominican/sylph; thaumaturgy/hoop aerialist)

Heroica:

Vontae (Black American; physical, hero trainee)

Iina (Navajo; mental, fashion major)

Airam (Nicaraguan-American; almighty, freelance hacker)

Binna (Korean-American/A.I.; reality/idol)

Melanie (White American/virus; reality/villain sidekick)

Kamiyah (Black-Ecuadorian; disempowered, street racer)

Empyrea:

Eranuhi (Armenian Lom/pixie; solarmancy/Miracle Mitch's assistant)

İnayət (Azerbaijani/pig; divination/keytarist)

Shushana (Georgian Jewish/alphoi; lunarmancy/singer)

Grizzleheim:

K'ila (Greenlandic Inuit/snow angel; thaumaturgy/martyr)

Greko (Finnish/näkki; privateer/Ironclaws leader)

Cedine (Afro Norwegian; musketeer, Wolf ranger)

Othi (Swedish Romani; swashbuckler, Splithoofs fighter)

Sarai (Danish Jewish; buccaneer, wanderer)

Darkmoor:

Sevastjan (Estonian/werewolf; solarmancy/W.C. Forces guardsman)

Vidas (Lithuanian, vampire bat; thief)

Līga (Latvian/gargoyle; chronomancy/bounty hunter)

Greeta (Estonian; necromancy, Rickoyoto student)

Polaris:

Prokhor (Russian; divination, Ravenwood student)

Hadria (French Algerian, arctic hare; La Révolution lieutenant)

Théane (Monégasque/matagot; conjuration/bartender)

Hilol (Uzbek, courtesan)

Nima (Buryat, half-polar bear; cigarette boy)

Gamassa:

Priscila (Cuban/avialtri; umbramancy/researcher)

Jacinto (Afro Venezuelan/changeling; conjuration/Arcana student)

Roshan (Iranian, half-bunny; ex maiden-in-training)

Yuuto (Japanese/cambion; mysticism/hitman)

Karamelle:

Goldie (Austrian Jewish; conjuration, Ravenwood student)

Elise (Papuan/gnome; theurgy/figure skater)

Aulia (Indonesian, half-raccoon; housespouse)

Rayner (German Turk/elf; lunarmancy/doctor)

Avalon:

Vaino (Welsh Romani; pyromancy, Ravenwood student)

Carmel (Welsh Jewish; necromancy, alchemist)

Meriful (Scottish Romani/anthusiai; necromancy/druid)

Darina (Afro Irish, half-deer; budding writer)

Marleybone:

Sestiva (Irish; necromancy, Ravenwood student)

Zakhi (Afro Scottish; buccaneer, Shatterhands tank)

Trainet (Scottish Romani, mouse; Quarrel Mob moll)

Wysteria:

Bisera (Bulgarian Turk; thaumaturgy, assitant librarian)

Peritz (Jewish Canadian; theurgy, Pigswick student)

Monquista:

Zãne (Basque/aidegatxo; divination/smuggler)

Yeniel (Afro Spanish/anjana; theurgy/healer)

Jamilla (Portuguese Jewish/anjana; mysticism/astrologist)

Cosme (Spanish; stellarmancy, aristocrat)

Wizard City:

Tiena (English Romani; lunarmancy/handyman)

Alura (Black Canadian; conjuration/W.C. Forces artificer)

Epimetej (Bosnian/half-draconian; pyromancy/Ravenwood student)

Coloratura:

Ithal (Irish Romani; sorcery, W.C. Forces knight)

Cherie (Haitian/elf; spatiomancy/concubine)

Zulekha (Lebanese/ghost; chronomancy/ex-concubine)

Kinna (Welsh; pyromancy, head priestess)

Dragonspyre:

Ivan (Serbian; necromancy, Dragonhorn Order knight)

Uana (Romanian; divination, Storm Department major)

Yakov (Bulgarian Jewish; thaumaturgy, Chivalric Forces trainee)

Mateja (Slovenian; pyromancy, Dragonhorn Order knight)

Qendräk (Albanian Ashkali; conjuration, Myth Department major)

Eldra (Croatian Romani; theurgy, Life Department major)

Andrej (Macedonian; sorcery, Balance Department major)

Vitalia:

Ariele (Italian Jewish‐Tunisian/half-guinea pig; dualism/Shatterhands bag-boy)

Lereia (Italian Jewish-Tunisian, porcelain doll; hitch-hiker)

Luretta (Sicilian Moroccan, half-unicorn; Resistance spy)

Valente (Genovese, unicorn; Armada soldier)

Aquila:

Titania (Greek; privateer, Shatterhands 2nd-in-command)

Zinon (Greek/elf; mysticism/wanderer)

Spisene (Greek Romani; divination, Arcadia student)

Taysa (Afro Greek/asteriai; stellarmancy/Arcadia student)

Mirage:

Yousef (Saudi/vampire; thaumaturgy/House of Tabbi captain)

Wafae (Afro-Omani/avialtri; spatiomancy/wanderer)

Ku-aya (Iraqi/udug; umbramancy/Silenus' ward)

Krokotopia:

Meresamun (Nubian; chronomancy, Temple of Balance priestess)

Kreianos (Nubian/half-krok; pyromancy/Medjai commander)

Fibruniyah (Copt/undine; divination/ferrywoman)

Wagguten (Berber; sorcery, Temple of Balance trainee)

Zafaria:

Resego (Tswanan; necromancy, Arcanum researcher)

Umklomelo (Zulu/tikoloshe; necromancy/blacksmith)

Mooshu:

Dechen (Tibetan; theurgy, Ravenwood student)

Choua (Hmong; mysticism, Shatterhands witch)

Nengmei (Chinese/huli jing; pyromancy/bride-to-be)

Zayaa (Mongolian/frog; thaumaturgy/Shangri Baa apprentice)

Rajah:

Fulki (Santhal/guhyaka; conjuration/princess)

Zeenat (Pakistani/genie; miraclism/Fulki's contractor)

Yago:

Luntian (Bisayan/kataw; lunarmancy/babylan)

Liwliwa (Iloco/diwata; stellarmancy/loner)

Wallaru: Jiemba (Wiradjuri/mimih; solarmancy/Didgeri dragon caretaker)

Celestia:

Aroha (Maori/ice construct; thaumaturgy/Ravenwood student)

Fielea (Tongan/swan maiden; astralmancy/Eight Legs agent)

Mikaere (Maori/lunari; spatiomancy/bodyguard)

Skull Island:

Julien (White Caribbean; swashbuckler, Shatterhands captain)

Haydée (Puerto Rican/elf; sorcery/Gravulum Order researcher)

Aviarios:

Daniel (Jewish American; underground fighter)

Lázaro (Cuban-American/cagueiro; lunarmancy/private eye)

Audélia (Jewish American, half-canary; tabloid reporter)

Tiara (Japanese-Chumash, ladybug; aspiring starlet)

Cool Ranch:

Otaktay (Lakota; musketeer, Shatterhands sniper)

Jewel (Black American, half ball-tailed cat; magician)

Basilio (Mexican, coyote; sheriff)

Heyra (Mexican/duende; solarmancy/amateur monstrologist)

Coatlán:

Tlacelel (Nahua/nagual; chronomancy/bounty hunter)

Nayeli (Zapotec/cactus dryad; sorcery/photomancer)

Melodioso:

Odalis (Panamanian/myrmeki; theurgy/bride)

Yasmin (Brazilian/boiúna; sorcery/mercenary)

Painé (Chilean/carbunclo; astralmancy/bard)

El Dorado:

Raymundo (Colombian/solari; solarmancy/prince)

Yadira (Colombian/stellari; stellarmancy/princess)

Khrysalis:

Nona (Assyrian/pyros; stellarmancy/shadow hunter)

Isidora (Guatemalan/squirrel; conjuration/war messenger)

Shay (Irish Jewish/sea slug; pyromancy/code breaker)

InvictaMane: Kem (English Romani/incubus; theurgist/court jester)

#wizard101 #pirate101 #spiral shenanigans

[vbee-miya]

masterlist ©

️all works copyrighted

haikyu!! / haikyuu!!

 when it’s your birthday (gn!)

akaashi // i’m cheering for you (gn!)

aran // movie nights (gn!)

 atsumu // kinning him / you’re late (gn!) / a final goodbye (gn!)

kenma // the surprise stream (gn!)

oikawa // don’t try to bother (gn!) /  just an excuse (gn!)

osamu // hot cocoa and biscuits (gn!)

suna // let’s hangout? (gn!)

washio // as a boyfriend (gn!)

yachi // our sudden confessions (fem!)

✄----------

kimetsu no yaiba / demon slayer

muzan //  an s/o who’s afraid of sleeping in the dark (gn!)

✄----------

hunter x hunter

when it’s your birthday (gn!)

chrollo //  until the symphony ends (gn!)

illumi //  so we’re dating? (gn!) / as a significant other (gn!)

kurapika //  as a prince (gn!)

✄----------

naruto / boruto

2021 Chinese New Year - Naruto Mobile

what i’d feed you based off your favorite character I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX

rating hair I II III IV V

when it’s your birthday (gn!)

when you’re feeling lightheaded (gn!)

itachi // rewind

jiraya // as a father with mischievous twin sons (gn!)

madara // as a significant other (gn!)

rock lee // hey what’s wrong? (gn!)

saiino // the art gallery

yamato // like we used too (gn!)

✄----------

shingeki no kyojin / attack on titan

when it’s your birthday (gn!)

playing hide n’ seek

aesthetically pleasing hands I II III

a typical day (yelena x gn!) I II

a poet’s help (peick x gn!) I II III

armin // like a story book (gn!) /  a celloist’s true beauty (gn!)

hange // random hange headcanons (gn!)

onyankopon // dating him (gn!)

reiner // until we meet again (gn!) / cry into my arms (gn!)

yelena // a secret to tell (gn!) / as a significant other (gn!) /s/o who gets cold easily (poc!gn!) / a cold night (gn!) / with an affectionate s/o (gn!) / when you ask her out (gn!) / living with her (gn!) / when she needs comforting (gn!)

✄----------

boku no hero academia / my hero academia

with a filipina gf (fem!)

when it’s your birthday (gn!)

the little things they’d do (gn!)

cuddling with them (gn!)

mina // late night vibes (gn!)

monoma // the rehearsal (gn!) / when it’s his birthday (gn!)

✄----------

jojo's bizarre adventure / jojo no kimyou na bouken

the katsu special (gn!)

abbacchio // if only (gn!)

gwess // so you do love me (gn!)

ermes // something new together (gn!)

✄----------

jujutsu kaisen

will we vibe I II

✄----------✄----------✄----------

the wandering wizards of harry potter

 golden trio - period comfort (fem!)

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

how to [take 3] shits I II III

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

#v.writεϊз #⛧v.impt

[kheycastillo]

As I wandered through the gallery, my gaze became attracted to a particular  painting that seemed to have a significant story within its frame. The work of art, titled "Larawan Litrato Foto-Oleo and Picture Portraits in the Philippines, In Memory of Dr. Luciano P. Santiago," drew me closer to its intriguing name.

As I approached the painting, two women emerged from the canvas, their gazes captivating and full of life. Adorned in vibrant clothing and intricate accessories, they mirrored the richness of Filipino heritage. Standing side by side, their postures exuded strength and grace, capturing the essence of the Filipino people.

The painting was a tribute to Dr. Luciano P. Santiago, an esteemed historian and scholar who dedicated his life to preserving and promoting Philippine culture. His passion for capturing the essence of Filipino identity resonated through this artwork, a testament to his tireless efforts.

The two women featured in the paintings represented the past and the present, reflecting the resilience, beauty, and diversity of the Filipino nation. They stood as representations of the generations that came before, preserving their legacy, and paving the way for future ones. In their faces, I glimpsed a reflection of my own heritage—a reminder of the strength and courage passed down through the ages.

As I gazed at the painting, a deep connection to my roots awakened within me. It was as if the artwork held a mirror to my soul, reflecting the rich beauty of my identity. The power of art became evident, going beyond the limits of time and boundaries,  capturing the essence of a culture and touching the hearts of those who encountered it.

The painting spoke volumes about the stories of the two women and their lives. They might have been ancestors of Dr. Santiago or influential figures in the nation's history. Regardless, their presence in the artwork honored the strength and beauty of Filipina women.

As I turned my back out of the gallery, I carried not only the memory of the painting but also a renewed sense of pride in my Filipino roots. The artwork ignited a fire within me—a determination to appreciate and celebrate our cultural heritage, just as Dr. Santiago in his life activities.

In a world  where time flies so fast and traditions fade, this painting reminded me of the importance of preserving our stories, history, and culture. It motivates me to honor the past, embrace the present, and ensure a brighter tomorrow for generations to come. And so, I walked away, embracing the essence of painting, dedicating myself to appreciating the rich legacy of my Filipino heritage.

[filipinawanderer]

The Role of Social Media in Digital Marketing

Dive into #FilipinaWanderer's insights on the transformative role of social media in digital marketing. Discover how to build connections and drive engagement with your audience. #DigitalMarketing #SocialMediaInsights

Social media has emerged as a powerful tool in the realm of marketing. As a Filipina Wanderer who has traversed the digital landscape extensively, I’ve witnessed how social media can effectively drive brand engagement, foster authenticity, and build impactful connections with the Filipino audience. Sharing these insights to equip you with the knowledge to leverage social media in your digital…

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#2023 #authenticity #Connections #Digital Marketing #Engagement #filipina wanderer #FilipinaWanderer #Filipino Digital Audience #philippines #social media

[daisyvisions]

Rambling incoming I apologise in advance 😭

☔ Its been raining all day so I walked to the filipino shop in my town and bought some stuff! I also bought ube jam because the nice auntie who was working there today recommended it to me and I would trust her with my life. 🤝🏽

I like the rain a lot and usually go outside to walk around when it rains. I went to the shop once while it was raining just after lockdown ended because that's where I ended up while wandering, so now it is a tradition of mine to go there any time it rains. :) Or when I am homesick for southeast asia lol

It's run by a group of older Filipino ladies and they are so so lovely we are friends and I love them. 💜 Also the shop sells stuff from all over southeast asia so it's very nostalgic and also like,,, the only place in town I can get snacks from home. 😭 Grocery stores here only sell Chinese, Japanese, and Korean stuff for the most part. And some South Asian stuff.

I live in a very yeehaw conservative area of Canada with not many minorities so it's nice to have a place that's kind of like a mini home place? Sometimes I go when I'm feeling homesick because the aunties remind me of the ones from the countries I stayed in growing up and then the snacks and stuff of course.

We trade desserts and food sometimes too because they gave me some cassava cake once and I felt bad so I brought them cíbā next time I went and then we just continued trading, so I kind of have them to thank for my sudden improvement in cooking/baking traditional foods 😅. They gave me bibingka and some leftovers just after last christmas because they found out I didn't celebrate since I'm here alone and I cried lmao.

okay sorry for rambling lol bye-bye 😭

there's a running joke here in the Philippines that you can find filipino almost EVERYWHERE around the world kasjdnajsd hahah but please it's really cute that there's a filipino shop there huhu 🥺 ube jam and bibingka are good so you can always trust Filipina aunties with food and even making sure you're included! for real it's the same here 💕

speaking of rain, damn I wish it could rain here I have more energy when it rains tbh im that kind of person hahah it's too damn hot I swear jksdnfdjksfn

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Filipinas' Sarina Bolden joins Australian club

Filipinas’ Sarina Bolden joins Australian club

Sarina Bolden celebrate a goal against Vietnam during the Women’s Asian Football Federation (AFF) semi-final match at the Rizal memorial colliseum in Manila on July 15, 2022. (Photo by Ted ALJIBE / AFP) MANILA, Philippines — Philippine women’s football team star Sarina Bolden has parted ways with Japanese club Chifure AS Elfen Saitama as she is set to transfer to Western Sydney Wanderers FC in…

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Publishers Weekly 2022 Graphic Novel Critics Poll

Winner: Ducks by Kate Beaton

2nd (tie): Keeping Two by Jordan Crane 2nd (tie): The Third Person by Emma Grove

3rd: A Career in Books: A Novel About Friends, Money, and the Occasional Duck Bun by Kate Gavino (Plume) 3rd: The Peanutbutter Sisters and Other American Stories by Rumi Hara (Drawn & Quarterly) 3rd: Smahtguy: The Life and Times of Barney Frank by Eric Orner (Metropolitan) 3rd: Wash Day Diaries by Jamila Rowser and Robyn Smith (Chronicle) 3rd: What Is Home, Mum? by Sabba Khan (Street Noise) 3rd: Who Will Make the Pancakes by Megan Kelso (Fantagraphics)

Two Votes:

Acting Class by Nick Drnaso (Drawn & Quarterly) Artist by Yeong-shin Ma, trans. from the Korean by Janet Hong (Drawn & Quarterly) Genevieve Castrée: Complete Works 1981 - 2016 by Genevieve Castrée, edited and trans. from the French by Phil Elverum with Aleshia Jensen (Drawn and Quarterly) The High Desert: Black. Punk. Nowhere. by James Spooner (Harper) Invisible Wounds by Jess Ruliffson (Fantagraphics) Joseph Smith and the Mormons by Noah Van Sciver (Abrams ComicArts) The Keeper: Soccer, Me, and the Law That Changed Women’s Lives by Kelcey Ervick (Avery) Men I Trust by Tommi Parrish Notes From a Sickbed by Tessa Brunton (Graphic Universe) Shuna's Journey by Hayao Miyazaki trans. from the Japanese by Alex Dudok de Wit (First Second) Talk to My Back by Yamada Murasaki trans. from the Japanese by Ryan Holmberg (Drawn and Quarterly) Time Zone J by Julie Doucet (Drawn & Quarterly)

Honorable Mentions:

Acid Nun by Corinne Halbert (Silver Sprocket) Across a Field of Starlight by Blue Delliquanti (Random House Graphic) After Lambana: Myth and Magic in Manila by Eliza Victoria and Mervin Malonzo (Tuttle) Alfred Hitchcock: Master of Suspense by Noël Simsolo and Dominique Hé, trans. from the French by Montana Kane (NBM) Alice Guy: First Lady of Film by Catel and Bocquet, trans. from the French by Edward Gauvin (SelfMadeHero) All Your Racial Problems Will Soon End: The Cartoons of Charles Johnson by Charles Johnson (New York Review Comics) Birds of Maine by Michael DeForge (Drawn & Quarterly) Black and White: Tough Love at the Office (#1) by Sal Jiang (Seven Seas) Catch These Hands! (#1) by Murata (Yen) Clementine by Tillie Walden (Image) The Con Artists by Luke Healy (Drawn & Quarterly) DC Pride 2022 by Various Writers/Artists (DC) Down to the Bone: A Leukemia Story by Catherine Pioli (Graphic Mundi) Drip Drip by Paru Itagaki (Viz) Everything Is Ok by Debbie Tung (Andrews McMeel) Fantastic Four: Full Circle by Alex Ross (Abrams ComicArts) Flung Out of Space: Inspired by the Indecent Adventures of Patricia Highsmith by Grace Ellis and Hannah Templer (Abrams ComicArts) G.I.L.T. by Alisa Kwitney and Mauricet (Ahoy!) Galaxy: The Prettiest Star by Jadzia Axelrod and Jess Taylor (DC) Halina Filipina by Arnold Arre (Tuttle) How To Make a Monster by Casanova Frankenstein (Fantagraphics) The Human Target (#1) by Tom King and Greg Smallwood (DC) Hummingbird Heart by Travis Dandro (Drawn & Quarterly) I'm Still Alive by Roberto Saviano and Asaf Hanuka (Boom!) The Joy of Quitting by Keiler Roberts (Drawn & Quarterly) The Last Mechanical Monster by Brian Fies (Abrams ComicArts) The Liminal Zone by Junji Ito, trans. from the Japanese by Jocelyne Allen (Viz) Look Again by Elizabeth Trembley (Street Noise) Look Back by Tatsuki Fujimoto (Viz) Love and Rockets: The First Fifty by Gilbert Hernandez and Jaime Hernandez (Fantagraphics) Monotone Blue by Nagabe (Seven Seas) Movements and Moments edited by Sonja Eismann, Ingo Schöningh, and Maya (Drawn & Quarterly) Mr. Colostomy by Matthew Thurber (Drawn & Quarterly) My Perfect Life by Lynda Barry (Drawn & Quarterly) My Wandering Warrior Existence by Nagata Kabi, trans. from the Japanese by Jocelyne Allen (Seven Seas) Nowhere Girl by Magali Le Huche, trans. from the French by Jesse Aufiery (Nobrow) Number One is Walking: My Life in the Movies and Other Diversions by Steve Martin and Harry Bliss (Celadon) One Beautiful Spring Day by Jim Woodring Our Little Secret by Emily Carrington (Drawn & Quarterly) The Paradox of Getting Better by Raven Lyn Clemons (Silver Sprocket) The Philosopher, the Dog and the Wedding: The Story of the Infamous Female Philosopher Hipparchia by Barbara Stok, trans. from the Dutch by Michele Hutchison (SelfMadeHero) Radical: My Year with a Socialist Senator by Sofia Warren Rave by Jessica Campbell (Drawn & Quarterly) Real Hero Shit by Kendra Wells (Iron Circus) Salamandre by I.N.J. Culbard (Dark Horse) Schappi by Anna Haifisch (Fantagraphics) The Six Sidekicks of Trigger Keaton by Kyle Starks and Chris Schweizer (Image) Slash Them All by Antoine Maillard, trans. from the French by Jenna Allen (Fantagraphics) So Much for Love: How I Survived a Toxic Relationship by Sophie Lambda trans. from the French by Montana Kane (First Second) Something is Killing the Children (#4) by James Tynion IV and Werther Dell'Edera (Boom!) Space Story by Fiona Ostby (West Margin) Squire by Nadia Shammas and Sara Alfageeh (HarperCollins) Thieves by Lucie Bryon (Nobrow) Ultrasound by Conor Stechschulte (Fantagraphics) Upside Dawn by Jason (Fantagraphics) Why the People: The Case for Democracy by Beka Feathers and Ally Shwed (First Second) Yellow Cab by Benoît Cohen and Christophe Chabouté, trans. from the French by Edward Gauvin (IDW)

#I've read basically none of these books #graphic novel #comics

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Filipinas dominate higher-ranked Papua New Guinea in 5-1 match

Filipinas dominate higher-ranked Papua New Guinea in 5-1 match

CARLEIGH Frilles fired a brace to power the Philippines to a 5-1 romp over Papua New Guinea (PNG) in the first of their two friendly matches Sunday at the Western Sydney Wanderers Park in Australia. Ms. Frilles blasted goals in each half while skipper Tahnai Annis, veteran Eva Madarang and sub Meryll Serrano also struck as the No. 53 Filipinas dominated an opponent ranked two places higher in the…

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