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walker33961 · 1 year

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"A N I L L O 💍"

- Rodolfo x y/n -

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff in everything, Pure love (😗)

March 8,2023..

Rudy texts y/n's mom before coming home..

*In text*

Rodolfo :

I want to gift y/n a ring, Don't tell her right now, Just thinking when to give..

Mom :

You purchased a ring?

Rodolfo :

Hmm.

But won't give it in front of you..

It's better to give the ring alone..

Mom :

You can gift her on eid instead

*add any fest/occasion if your choice, My mom said Eid so ya*..

Rodolfo :

Nah

No way

Today..

Mom :

Really?

Rodolfo :

After she is done with reading her books...

»»——(´･ω･`)——««

Rodolfo came home , only to find y/n reading peacefully and noticed him peaking from the door in her room, happiness and love shinning in his eyes.. She smiles, telling him to switch on the TV and search something funny to watch while she finishes sliding her books in their places...

He went, sat down in the mid 2 seated sofa in the TV room.. He waved y/n's mom to go to her room so he can have some time with her.. *creating a moment to give her the ring , Mom gave him a thumbs up and goes to her room*

*After an hour.. *

Rodolfo : *staring at her like she's out of some sorta dream* Y/n : *states back* What is it love?

Rodolfo : Close your eyes..I have something for you 🥰 Y/n : Well ..okay..but what is it ?

Rodolfo : Don't peak okay.... Y/n : Okay love

Rodolfo took a moment to grab the box outta his pocket and opened to reveal a beautiful shining ring..

Photo : The ring Rodolfo gave you *The ring which my love gave me*

He told to open your eyes , a shine beaming from the velvet black box..you see A Ring

Rodolfo : In which finger would u like to wear this Love? Y/n : The left ring finger / ( readers choice ) she gave her hand and pointed to her left ring finger*

Rodolfo : *slides the ring in her finger with whole love shinning in his face* Y/n : *Trying not to cry over bcz she was just tooo much emotional*

Rodolfo : You like it? Y/n : *helds his chin and lands a quick sweet kiss on his lips* It's really cute 🥹

Rodolfo : *responding the kiss* Momma will see us Mi Amor 🤭 *shy af* Y/n : *Even tomatoes failed in front of her tinted cheeks* "Hehe ❤🤭"

- *After the movie ended, He went home with a bright smileee*

Y/n & Rodolfo was happy all the second which passed ✨

Later, Her Mom texts Rodolfo ::

Mom :

Y/n is so happy, She can't stop smiling after you gave her the ring .. She's blushing red , son..

Rodolfo :

🥰❤

(He's turned red too..)

...*＊✿❀ T H E - 💍 - E N D ❀✿＊*...

Note :

The writing is based over the moment when mi Amor made me wear a ring for now , until we are officially married/engaged . The text part was translated from Bangla to english for readers & also "A N I L L O" means "R I N G" in Spanish 😁 (the special date is mentioned in the fic which isn't a made up one 👌🏻)...

Story:

*I swear it's short* *heh.. H.. Heh.. Ya.. *

Boyfriend ain't a word to describe him , He's straight up my husband..that's it *sorry if It sounds cringe*

He's actually My dad's good - close friends's son..😌

The first time we met was in my home, he came home for some work None of us had idea that We were raising feelings for each other *love at first sight ? Yes. *

We both were heck young ( age gap : 9-10 years) unaware of the meaning "crush" that time..but, We were each other's first crush & first love <3

Together for around 7 years and counting the sweet times with patience, love and understanding 🥰

Both of us waited for a perfect time to share our feelings properly..

He even wrote a proposal letter to me , even after asking directly...in the generation of texting long ass paragraph.. How sweet is that?

He proves loyalty every time - in this gen of sus love where loyalty, care & understanding is frking rare..

Most surprising thing,

we had no idea that both of our parents were planning for us from a very long time.We weren't able to express it to them but yk.. Parents mind and heart you know..somehow they just understand *😌☺*

Now, How about I pull up some points for a proper introduction of him to you all <3 ✨🥰

He has No bad habits ❤

Good Boiii fr fr ✨

Studied from * DU * ( tap the highlighted word to know)

Banker . Probationary Officer * here * ( tap the hlighted word to know) *1 visiting card in my wallet muhuahaha*

Pious, fears Allah 😇

Had no relationships before (ik him very very veryyy well + he's not like this gen boiss y'all, he's one of the rare ones )🤌

Respectful towards elders ❤

Obsessed with homemade foods , digging into street foods ain't in his list

Understanding , kind , includes all positive energy , behavior & nature -Well he's a total sweetheart after all ..🤭

Likes whatever I like , same for the supporting thing .. Yup *sometimes side eyeing funnily*

*Ah I can't finish if I start writing ..he's too good to be bounded in words ...26 letters, infinite numbers ain't enough to describe his goodness & how much I love him* *shy *shy *shy* :)))

And ya.. Funny point abt him.. He'll be like "😏" whenever a cute gaming character comes up in front of us *he receives my deadpan face *like ghost in las almas , but then we end up laughing*🤣

"Wish we could laugh together everyday , sitting in front of the tv or over a meme.. Well he's in a profession and gets 2 days off as weekend + He lives with his parents.. So ya . But if I call him to come over saying Mom or I cooked something nicey nicey .. Flash will be in shame by his speed of coming to me" *with his cycle + as I said before..he's obsessed with homemade food *❤❤🤣✨

Ah, well..I hope these are enough for u guys to know him, well..*Shortly🤭* 💅🏻

Oh, and if I introduce him as COD characters type? Well that's a must since I'm a COD obsesseeeeed as y'all know ( will describe like in ff's *adding their real life type too , as far as I've seen & know about * ) 😉

Serious like Simon *but not cold*👌🏻( chilling - vibin Samuel)

Crazy & funny like Jhony 🤣😝 ( Neil has Bobby the doggo and my man owns a pair of cute cockatiels *oh & a stray momma cat always roams in his home, even gave birth to 3 kittens at his resident , Often sends me pics of the cute meow member, no one owns her but his family is hers too 🥺**)

Total cutie like Kyle ( In ff's Elliot is mentioned as the sweet , cute one so ya..)

Romantic af like Alejandro💍 ( Alain the man y'all , F L U F F 🤌)

Trusted & fully loyal like Rodolfo ✨( Cool like Bayardo) *he doesn't wear chainzz & all, Watch is the main thing for him, has a bicycle instead of a risky bike * which Looks a bit like MW2 Themed *UwU*)

Handling any situation with cool brain + maturity like Price 🤜🏻🤛🏻 ( Family man like Barry..family bond was always on top, since childhood ❤)

About how he looks like : Well..dear readers, He's straight outta Dreamland, No matter how many words exists on this earth, ain't enough to describe him..

He's a guy that every girl dreams of to live with until death . Tbh, He's a combination of all cute, sweet and heart filling romantic quotes <3

Mi Amor ,

If your reading this... Ily to the moon and back.. If someone takes your name in my grave, they will see how it brings me back to life ✨🤭

End Note :

Might sound cheesy in some ways .. Well writing this fic has a bonus point which is I felt secure and happy to share this with you guys, and since I'm a person too shy to speak out these words to him.. It was better to write them down as notes in this fic, after all its based on true events thing , *I added an extra detail which didn't happen on that day , The kiss part.. No kiss and all until marriage, strict rules in Islam and we respectfully follow it ❤

& ya, No one knows about our relationship *sneaky sneaky x 100*

Fun part :

It's fun when u are posting cute , couple stuff on ig story and sharing it like it's just nothing and your single , meanwhile you were never single...*ig that's called sharing but not exposing.. *chefs kiss*

Our parents are perfectly aware of it *obviously they know it,lol* ( A N G E L S )

My 3 homies in CarryMinati Fandom * the sweeeeettttttest and top trusted, love you cuties*

And you *the reader* ( Your also my homie,whoever came across this)

No one will know until I reveal it openly *evil laugh*

OKAY THAT'S IT *chuckles*

GIVE YOUR EYES A REST . AND YA DO SUPPORT MY TUMBLR IF U LOVE MY WRITINGS

Do comment whatever your head is knocking to you

And one thing,

If the reader is in love, I wish you a very happy and healthy ending with your love. And If your single, I pray God links you up with your sweet other half who understands you truly when it's time <;3"

Support your favorite writers / Tumblr admins by Reblog, Liking, commenting... Just make their day c'mon ✨👍🏻

Loves & hugs,

- Author / writer

#cod mw #cod mw2 #mw2 2022 #alejandro cod #call of duty fanart #cod imagine #gaz cod #price cod #rudy cod #aesthetic #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo parra #rodolfo x reader #i love him #husband material #love is in the air #call of duty rodolfo

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dreamerwriternstargazer · 21 days

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I feel really crappy for basically passing out while trying to stay up last night because I didn’t even manage to pray much when I stayed up after tarawih

I… I really want to do better for these last few days but I feel rubbish because I’m not… scheduling right or feeling tired as I pray and I’m worried it won’t be accepted because I’m half asleep

I’m trying so hard. *sighs*

*nods determinedly* I’ll make sure to have a second cup of coffee when I get home so I stay alert enough until Fajr, catching up on sleep is a non issue as we all sleep after Fajr til 12, it’ll just be trickier the last couple of days but I should manage

I don’t know why I’m writing this here just, I suppose, logging in the rubbish feelings, hoping if I put it down it doesn’t stay in my head making me feel bad. Anyway, time for gift wrapping today, actually lots of things:

Gift wrapping

Finish marking stuff/round off all leftover work from last term

Sort out Eid schedule w/ sis and food list for party

Send out invitations

Start food prep to freeze food

Call…. The grandparents (gonna do this last Insha’Allah so I don’t get thrown a loop and fail to do everything else)

Pray pray pray Insha’Allah. Try to catch up on some Qur’aan reading.

I badly need a shower *sighs* again

Why do I feel like I’m doing everything so wrong, I didn’t feel like this last Ramadhan or maybe I did and can’t remember it… I just feel like I should be doing more, better. The second cup of coffee during the last few days will help Insha’Allah because half this stuff I need to get done tonight

#star speaks #sleeping in in the morning means #I exchange that time for the night/early morning #I really can’t be wasting it *sighs*

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hotchley · 3 years

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pallbearer

Not completely sure what this is, but it was sparked by the posts about Kevin being a pallbearer at Haley’s funeral. Saw it in my drafts and decided to finish it because yeah, why not?

It’s Eid somewhere (India and Australia for sure) so take this as a little gift from me to all of you because you’re lovely but I suck at writing fluff, so it’s pretty much just angst and a bit of Reid being a good friend to Hotch because I live in the nice world where they have a good relationship :)

As always, absolutely no proofreading, and it low-key sucks, but nothing else is working so...

Trigger Warnings: references to death, funerals, grief, just general sad things

read on ao3!

After they get back from the case that took them from the funeral, Reid, who is still using a cane, leaves without telling anyone.

Derek panics because he’s meant to be taking Reid back to his apartment- there’s a lift that functions and it means Reid isn’t being stupid- then Garcia tracks his phone and realises he’s going to see Hotch. They can’t interrupt that, so they don’t.

Why is Reid going there? All alone?

To apologise.

He goes there himself, takes the lift up because he knows his limits and rings the doorbell. Hotch doesn’t answer and he panics, so he rings it again.

When Hotch does open the door, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting any sort of company- least of all his colleagues/family. He still lets Reid in, and he asks him if he’d like anything to eat or drink. Reid declines, because Hotch shouldn’t have to be running around after him. Not now.

They’re sat in silence for a few minutes- they both try and justify it by saying Jack is asleep- but then Reid speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Hotch seems exhausted by all the apologies- after all, people are only giving them because there’s nothing else they can say- but Reid doesn’t say things lightly. It always means something. And he knows how Reid’s intelligence is always used against him. The team asked him to recite the phone call because they wanted the information, but Spencer would always associate it with a way in which he failed.

So although he hates the way everyone is apologising to him, he won’t tell Spencer to not. Spencer needs to say the words so he feels like the forgiveness Hotch has already given him- the forgiveness he received the moment Hotch saw him come into the office where Jack had been hiding- is deserved. And Hotch needs to hear the words from somebody that is saying them despite knowing everything about the situation.

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to speak, and even then, the words do not feel adequate.

“You did everything you could Spencer,” is his soft response.

“Not about Haley’s death. Of course I’m sorry, but what I meant was- I’m sorry I couldn’t carry the coffin. You know I would’ve if I could’ve.”

Hotch meets his eyes, and sees his own tears reflected in Spencer’s face. There’s a certain innocence to Spencer’s expression. One that Hotch thought his own failures would have permanently taken away. He should have known better. Spencer is nothing if not resilient. But then he thinks of the situations that forced him to become like that, and he wants to scream into the void because of how unfair the world can be.

He doesn’t though. That would only make the situation worse.

Instead, he sighs. “I know Spencer. I know. But I- even if you could, I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

Spencer frowns. “Why not? Will, Derek and Anderson were all pallbearers, and I probably knew Haley about as well as them. It would’ve made sense for me to carry Haley’s coffin. You know that. I can see it in your face.”

It would have made sense. It would’ve made much more sense than Kevin Lynch. But Hotch’s words are the honest truth. It wouldn’t have mattered- not to him anyways- whether or not Spencer was able to carry that weight. He wouldn’t have asked. Would have rejected the offer if it was given. Found anyone else to be the final person.

“I know that.”

“So why would you not have asked?”

His reason- the true reason- is one that steers the majority of his decisions regarding Spencer. It is one that clouds his judgment and forces him to confront how human he is, and how the team were the only people (aside from Haley- who had always been perfect) to teach him that love didn’t need to hurt.

That people came back when they were angry.

The words that would explain his actions have been on the tip of his tongue since Gideon left. They almost slipped out after Chester Hardwick. And then Owen Savage. He wanted to say them when Reid almost died at the hands of Benjamin Cyrus, but he had pulled away at the last moment, too afraid of the consequences. He got stupidly close after the anthrax case.

Something had always held him back. But Haley’s death reminded him of how fleeting life was. Haley died protecting her son, knowing Aaron would make the right decision and raise him to be a good man, but she should never have doubted the love Aaron had for her, and that was his fault. He wasn’t going to repeat that mistake.

“Because parents want to protect their children from all the evil in the world, no matter how unreasonable that may seem,” he blurts out.

Spencer’s brow furrows, and the resemblance to Jack terrifies him so much he almost laughs. He repeats the words to himself, clearly searching for some other meaning behind them. But in that way, Hotch and Reid are similar. They will only rarely say things they don’t mean.

“Oh,” is all Spencer is able to say.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to tell you that I look at you and see-”

“Can I hug you?” Spencer asks, cutting him off.

Hotch nods, unsure how else to respond. Spencer doesn’t use the cane as he moves onto the other sofa, opting to use the cushions as his support instead. When he’s close enough to reach out and touch Aaron’s hands, he takes them. Hotch cannot look at them, even though Morgan had washed and bandaged them almost immediately, so he stares at the ceiling instead.

Spencer’s touch is gentle and almost not there, but it feels like the safety of a childhood home that he had only ever read about in the books that served as his one escape in that little town that had no mercy for any boy that dared to speak out against their father.

“You’re a good father. To all of your children,” Spencer says.

“I know I’ve failed you. All of you. More times than I could possibly count, even though I remember every single one of them. But I always told myself that the one thing you would never do is carry a coffin that contains the body of someone you loved because of this job. Or because of my failures. It’s the only promise I’ve been able to keep.”

Spencer realises that Hotch is right. Although both him and Morgan had been on the time when Adrian Bale attacked, Hotch had organised the funerals without any input from the two of them, with all the pallbearers being family instead. No agents had died after JJ had joined, but the option of carrying Haley’s coffin hadn’t even existed for Emily.

It saddens Spencer to know that the only way Hotch is able to show how much he loves the team is by shielding them from certain horrors, and to protect them from the aspects of their jobs that cause them to wonder how much longer their hands will go cold when they see crime scenes. It makes him want to rage at the world for taking this man- this good and loving and kind man- and destroying him.

But his anger will terrify Aaron. Everyone’s anger terrifies him, because he always feels responsible. Always feels like it’s his influence, or his actions, or his failures. So he doesn’t say a word, knowing Hotch will appreciate the silence. He also knows that Hotch will understand and accept the silence for what it is: all of the words and emotions he would never be able to put into words, but so desperately needs him to believe.

It’s a haunting image. There is one one man so young he may still be a boy, and he is trying to hold the fragile and broken pieces of a man he had always believed was invincible and able to come back from anything together.

It is also a beautiful image. It proves that every child will eventually learn that their parent is not invincible, and that they get hurt and fail and mess up in the same way every single person does, but that the knowledge will not destroy them. If anything, it will comfort them because they will learn that no human is perfect, but they can still be good.

It will also be a moment ingrained in both their memories forever. Even if Spencer’s wasn’t eidetic, he would remember it. Because Aaron would not be able to keep this promise. The team would carry Emily Prentiss’ empty coffin only nine months later. And Spencer would carry Maeve Donovan’s, despite Aaron’s pleas to let somebody else handle the pain for him. When Spencer turns to him, and says he has to do it because he’s not a child that can be protected from any evil in the world- not when it emerges from the same cracks that should only contain love, they will both flinch.

Because he is right.

Because Aaron failed.

Again.

It’s funny, in a twisted sort of way, that his failures will always be associated with the bitter tang of death.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #sad aaron hotchner #hotch whump #hotch angst #tw grief #tw funerals #tw death references #sumayyah writes cm

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

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Any chance you could give us some Arabic speaking Remus headcanons? Loved your latest fic ❤️ 📚

OMFG gorgeous sugarplum! I legit only just was reminded of this while scrolling through my inbox right now! But my heart is finna burst!!! Thank you SO SO much and yes I would love to give some Headcanons about this! Especially since the next long story I’m working on includes this dynamic, and I’m so excited about it!! However, common disclaimer that while I am Arab and culturally Muslim even if I don’t practice like the rest of my family lol, I am Palestinian and not Syrian. So with every identity there are different experiences and customs no matter how closely intertwined. So I apologize for any inconsistency that a Syrian may read and disagree with, and please feel free to correct me<3 <3

The FIC this HC is from

So first off some background on his mum in the story

I chose the name Vivian based off a friend of a friend who’s uncle married a woman by that name back in Palestine, so it’s definitely extremely uncommon, but a fully Arab lady was named it, so like it’s my defense bahaha. But it also means lively, and coupled with Hussein as her maiden name which means beautiful, it just fit her personality to a t!!

She was born into a pretty secular family in Syria in the late 1920s, so there was a lot going on in that time period. But her dad was pretty influential, working in the government and such. Vivian was also the youngest of four girls and three boys so she was pretty spoiled tbh

She attended a boarding school in France through out her adolescence and decided to go to university there too, so she’s fluent in both Arabic and French, with pretty great English as well. Though she wasn’t exactly white passing, even though like a bunch of Syrians/Palestinians/Lebanese folk she was somewhat fair, she had distinctly Arabian features, like the large almond shaped eyes and thick lashes and thicker brows, and a long, largeish nose, accented by full lips. So she experienced a good amount of jeers and discrimination, especially when folks found out her surname. So I think she’s able to relate to Remus in that sense of being a wolf at least, and later on when he comes out as gay.

It was 1950 when she and a few of her girlfriends went to Wales for holiday after completing university. The second Lyall first spotted her in the woods while she was trying to make it back to the cabin near the Irish Sea with her mates, it was something like love, because duh. She was a fucking knock out!! A babe and a baddy! Literally so far out of his league its ridiculous! But on Vivian’s side, she was mostly just amused and a bit enamored by this cocksure Welshman who had the most endearing of crooked smiles that their son would inherit a decade later. So obviously she didn’t make it easy on him, but eventually she let him take her out on the last night of her trip, and was pleased to find out that they had the same sort of humor and the same passion for their careers and even the same love for the outdoors too.

They had a long distance relationship for two years while she went to grad school so she could teach about classics while Lyall himself was rising the ranks in the Ministry for regulation and control of magical creatures— Unbeknownst to her, the Floo network was very helpful with the distance. Just thank God Lyall himself is a Muggle born because he really had to fake the hell out of it lol.

So just to speed things up they got married on a lovely June evening in 1955, subsequent to Vivian excepting a professorial job in Cardiff after Lyall told her about the Wizarding world. At first Vivian thought e was tripping on some subpar edibles until he proved it by transfiguring her snuff box into a lovely broach that she kept for the rest of her life, So after Vivian was convinced, she became absolutely enthralled by all of the magic so completely.

They were trying for a few years when she finally became pregnant with Remus in 1959, and they were both so over the moon (pun unintended).

So like I said above, Vivian’s family are pretty secular, so I see her mostly practicing the cultural aspects of Islam. For example, every Friday— which is the equivalent to Sundays being the holy day for Christians— she lights up the instance that she always keeps herself stocked up on after her annual trip to Syria, instead of the typical candles she ordinarily prefers. And Remus swears that for the rest of his life whenever he smells it, he’s back to being a baby, puttering around the house and watching her dusting the shelves while humming quietly an Arabic song that’ played out the gramophone by a man who’s music would soon become regarded as the song of the people. Or Remus would recall being snuggled into her lap while she read him a novel on the windowsill. Or he’d simply remember listening to his parents laughter fluttering in the air while he fell asleep by the fire, subconsciously making the flower buds closest to him bloom with his untapped magic.

Remus’s first clear memory— thanks to the endless pictures— is when he was around four years old, before the attack, and they were staying in Vivian’s home town in Damascus. While the men congregated out doors for cigars and cards and the women in the living room chatting while snacking on watermelon seeds, his older cousins— who were all girls— dragged him off to one of the bedrooms and doted on him because he was the baby of that side of the family. And he remembers walking out in a set of one of their heels and a headscarf wrapped around his head which made his Mama and Tata and Aumties laugh out loud and croon over him, and all his uncles and Sido call him Aumty Remus.

The attack by Greyback happened soon after they returned to Wales, and I’m not gonna touch on it becs I’ not finna depress myself. But it was a January morning after his first transformation and he remembers that when he woke up, he saw the cookies stuffed with dates resting on his bedside with a glass of milk that Lyall had put a cooling charm on. And they’re indulgent treats that Vivian makes for both Eids every year even though they don’t celebrate them in any other way lol. But the cookies always reminds him of family and of feeling safe in his mother’s arms, and they still work to make him feel better even after the worst thing he has ever experienced in his short life.

Remus’s love of poetry came from both sides of his parents, but it was listening to his mother recite the story of Majnun Layla in it’s original Arabic that really made him glow for the art form, and brought him to discovering his favorites like Auden and Neruda.

There’s a ornate, wooden prayer box that has been past down on the Hussein side of the family for five generations, it was originally meant to hold a Qran but for the past three it’s simply just been a beautiful piece of decoration. So when Vivian gave it to Remus when he was headed off to Hogwarts, little Remus asked McGonagall to help him with locking charms so it could become a safe place for him to keep his most cherished of nicknacks ant momentos, so obviously, she silently added a charm to keep the wood nearly unbreakable and the extension charm atop of that, like Hermione with her bag, so that he could keep as many happy memories as possible inside of it, and she prayed that there would be so many that it threatened to burst.

The last time Remus opened the box was in 1996, when he was putting away the ring Sirius gifted him as a match to his own in some feeble promise of forever only weeks before James and Lily’s own engagement.

Once during first year, he and the lads were staying up late, trading stories about how they got their most ridiculous scars— after seeing the one that scraped across Remus’s left shoulder blade— But it got to a point where they were all feeling a bit nippish, so they went down to the kitchens for some of the chocolate pudding that was served during dinner that night. And Remus idly asked the house elves if they could make him a batch of Kinafa because he was getting home sick and missed when he and his Mama would dash over to the city whenever they were feeling antsy, and she’d take him to their favorite hooka bar after buying a round of the dessert— which is basically sweetbread stuffed with cheese— from down the block. And they’d stay sitting beneath the starlight, and talking about her job and his lessons from school while she’d let him try a discrete puff or two and they’d laugh about everything and nothing at all.

The next time they stopped by the kitchens one of the younger house elves presented him with the snack gleefully, and it tasted fine, just not like how they do back home. So Remus smiled warmly at Tipsy, the house elf, and thanked her with real sincerity.

But his face must’ve betrayed him because after easter break, Sirius plops down a fresh batch of them on Remus’s bed before leaping into his own, casually mentioning that he saw how grossed out Remus looked when trying the one the house elves made, and it was from a restaurant close to Grimmauld so it’s not that big of a deal, and then he rushed to cursing at James for stealing his favorite pen and swearing that if he broke it he’s gonna have hell to pay. Remus had only blushed and chuckled with a small smile on his face when he cut himself a small piece and finished the half sheet off with the rest of their house later that night during an impromptu party that the Marauders would become infamous for in later years.

It was the summer after second year when all the marauders visited Remus back home in Wales and when they heard Vivian call him Qamar practically every other sentence, which of course lead to endless ribbing and eventually to his nickname of Moony— even though it’s so fucking obvious and Remus loves and hates it in equal parts. God his friends are so fucking stress inducing!

Remus teaches the other marauders funny Arabic curse words and they use them in class so that they can talk shit about particularly disgusting Slytherins without them being any of the wiser. (Yes I did do this with my friends, and I’d do it again! POW! POW! POW!)

It’s from Vivian that Remus has an affinity for coffee as strong as shit, but also prefers his tea weak— specifically two sugars and a dash of milk. But seriously, if you’ve ever tried Arabian coffee you’d understand, that shit is so fucking strong it’s literally a hate crime LMFAO. But yeah, this habit is definitely a point of contention between him and Sirius— who’s actually so fucking posh no matter how much he wants to be punk, and he stands by only drinking black tea— like Merlin intended— and saying bugger off to any and all coffees. “Leave that shite to the French and Americans.” And Remus would try to keep himself from making eyes at him from across the table, because God Sirius is hot when he’s all fiery and impassioned, even when it’s about the dumbest, most inconsequential shit.

Something that’s sort of funny is that Remus was the first among them to become a fucking pot head and could drink them all under the table even though Sirius himself has got two stone and three inches on him. But Remus still refuses to eat ham, purely because he never grew up eating it and doesn’t care too now. Sirius had to specifically ask Euphemia and Monty to make turkey for Christmas dinner their sixth year just because he knew that Remus’s head would probably implode with the decision between being rude and not eating it or forcing himself to gag down the unfamiliar meat.

When Remus is really, really fucking drunk he definitely spends the night only speaking in Arabic! (Don’t look at me I’m trash just because I stole this from my own life lmfao) But yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious and Sirius swears to God he’s so fucking in love with him while listening to Remus ranting in the unfamiliar language. And he’s like positive that half the time he’s actually just cursing Sirius out but he doesn’t even care because it’s SO! DAMN! CUTE! And sometimes Sirius decides to speak French at a drunk off his arse Moony, who occasionally replies back in a stiff staccato before returning back to the easy Arabic. And it’s just a mess.

Ok so sadness warning

In my head, Vivian loses her fight against breast cancer the July after the Marauders graduate from Hogwarts, and afterwords Remus gets a tattoo of her name in Arabic on his chest, and the word for soul on the nape of his neck. He locks away that battered copy of Magnun Layla in the wooden box she gave him years ago, along with a woolen scarf that smelt like her perfume.

It’s Sirius who buys a set of prayer beads to hang off her photo above the mantel in the flat he and Remus share, and when Remus sees it he literally feels like he might crack open with tears, but opts to kiss Sirius thank you instead, and they stay tangled on the sofa for the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

One night, in late 1979, while the war was only getting worse and worse— Sirius was hit by a cutting curse to the ribs. And it was really fucking bad, but thankfully James got him to his house in time for Lily to help and heal. He slept for the most part for nearly an entire day, but remembers snippets. Like when Remus had sprinted into the room with fear painted all over his soft features, and when James put a cooling cloth to his head. But most distinctly, Sirius recalls Remus gingerly lying besides him and Sirius talking gibberish at his boyfriend while Remus plunged his entire face against his back, eyes wet with tears and body shuttering as he squeezed him softly, saying something quietly in Arabic. Sirius obviously didn’t understand like 99.9% of it, but he did catch the word “Habibi,” which he instantly remembers as an old pet name Vivian use to call Remus with so much love it made her entire countenance sparkle. It’s an endearment that means beloved, or darling, and it feels like Remus is begging Sirius to stay with him and Sirius’s throat is still raw from the screaming, so he can only reply by dragging Remus’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. And he knows that whatever he does for the rest of his days, he loves Remus Lupin with every cell in his body.

Oof this got mad depressing…. Chow anyways, I can add a picture of the container you’re suppose to use for the instance if anyone wants that?

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

Ask Me For Headcanons About A Story I’ve Written Or For One You Want To See Written

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #HEADCANONS #HEADCANONS BY LEN #FIC: MAMA LUPIN IS A BABE

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mysmedrabbles · 5 years

Text

RFA Reacting to a Muslim MC

requested: twice by the same anon :P

a/n: note that I am not a muslim nor am i a hijabi, so if i get a detail wrong, im super sorry and please pLEAse let me know so it can be fixed!! :D this was really interesting to write, enjoy!!

would you like to support this Muslim MC? want more specific WoC MC’s? buy me a coffee to support my dangerous coffee addiction so i can do em for ya!

warnings: n/a

-hyped mod alex

Jumin

-his strong faith in Christianity was admirable, his ideals set in stone as he abided by them; but of course there was the smallest bit of apprehension in getting to know him, how would he react to someone with ideals different than his?

-he was never one to announce his faith publicly, he still isn’t, however he likes taking with you about your respective religions, sitting on the balcony of his penthouse taking in the cool night air,,, wine for him and Aryana’s Halal Cola shipped all the way from Montreal for you

-orders you the finest hijabs for you to wear, most of them custom made exactly the way you love them, elegant and refined. he also learns the level of modesty you tend to wear your clothes, buying you occasional stunning gala outfit that he knows you’ll both love and feel comfortable with

-you own the most stunning abayas

-absolutely takes you with him on his trips to the middle east. he’s an avid believer in learning about your own roots, and especially if you have family there, he’ll more than certainly take you, going together to see all the sights, take private tours of museums and enjoy life

-makes Chef learn specific halal recipes, and is more than willing to import any food you want from other countries that you cant get in Korea

-learns Arabic in about a year flat,, of course his Korean accent hits heavily, but its so sweet hearing him carefully pronounce sentences to your parents and or relatives

-on eid al-adha he’s aware of the old tradition to sacrifice animals and share with the poor, needy and family; so as a compromise he decides to donate 300 lbs of meat to various homeless shelters and soup kitchens. both you and him going down to help with transport, hand every box to the people, a sort of community service combined with observing a time old tradition.

-comes down with you to the night prayer at the mosque during ramadan, and even though he stays near the entrance and the garden out front, hearing the prayers coming from the inside and seeing all the people that you know and love around you, smiling and having a good time, it makes him happy

Jaehee

-she grew up catholic, lives catholic; but this isn’t to say she’s close-minded to other religions,, she always loves learning more, especially if its about you, who she loves with all her heart

-when youre cuddling, she likes fiddling with the edge of your hijab, just feeling the material and knowing you’re there makes any day of hers better, no matter how hard it may have been

-you being muslim doesn’t have much of an impact, she’s respectful to your beliefs, and even puts in halal foods in the cafe

-this is, of course, after months of her experimenting with different recipes, often finding her in the kitchen at midnight, flour on her face and apron dirtied, sleeves rolled up in a frenzy as she mutters under her breath

-shes so proud to finally present the finished deserts and foods to you!!

-one time you used one of her woven silk scarves as a makeshift hijab when all of yours were in the wash and she almost cries seeing how pretty you are in her stuff (the scarf is yours now)

-always interested in your religion, and she likes learning the differences between the traditions she was raised with and the ones you were

-during Ramadan, the two of you keep the shop open later for anyone wanting to eat after the sun has set, figuring that no one had to break their fast alone if they didn’t want to

-she gets up very early to prepare Suhoor for you in the morning, a simple oatmeal with dates, blueberries, grapes, almonds and honey

-likes to read her own books aside you while you read the Quran and do your morning prayer, its often the most peaceful part of your day, just having a clean and quiet space as you both enjoy each others company while also doing your own morning routines

Yoosung

-sweet boy, he knows very little of,, well any religion to be honest, and outside of 10th grade history, his knowledge on Islam as a whole is quite limited

-always asking questions about your traditions

-he reads the Quran at some point, wanting to understand you better,, and even though it takes him a long time (mostly due to having to re-read the passages over and over again to understand what was going on), but he’s devoted to learning about your culture

-he drives/walks you to the mosque, but doesn’t leave,, he’s not sure if he can go in, so instead he opts to walk around the area, enjoying the park and waiting for you to come back out so you can walk/drive back together

-he learns so many recipes specifically for you everything from mawmenye, harira, and moroccan krsa to berber bread

-he loves spending time with your family, he loves the sense of community and the celebrations that take place in your household, specifically during religious holidays

-he legitimately cries when you eventually decide to go to Mecca, leaving for hajj, because he knows he cant be with you for around a week and a half,, he can’t help it, he’s so sad he won't be able to see you for more than a week

-he’s so used to stopping all gaming and quieting down devices during salah, that even when you’re not around he still stops for five minutes at the designated times, mostly out of habit, but it also serves as a break from working, studying or gaming

-Lisa,, lisa loves your prayer mat, always trying to knock it down from its rolled up position next to the couch and sleep on it, so instead yoosung buys her a smaller prayer rug to lay on and its the cutest thing you've ever seen

Seven

-although he’s always been the one to mention his own faith in Catholicism, he’s also the one to be most curious about other faiths.

-he likes hearing you talk about the way you grew up, specifically hearing you talk about Islam and asking questions about traditions and practices you have to do

- “wait y/n!!,,, are honey buddha chips halal???”

-if theyre not, he opts to buy pringles in bulk instead. hes going to binge eat chips and damnit he wants you to join him!!!

-when it comes time for you to perform Salah, he makes sure that you have total peace, even stopping his typing for the duration, letting you connect fully with Allah and your spirit

-since theres little to no sunlight that appears in the bunker, he makes a simple little app that alerts you when the times of prayer come, pre-dawn, noon, afternoon, sunset, and night, using the bells that are primarily heard in mosques as the ringtone for the app

-if anyone dares to mess with you or insult you in any way, Defender of Justice 707 will send a nasty virus their way, because theres no way anyone is getting away with hurting his angel

-its canon that he knows Arabic, and often times, when you can’t go to sleep he’ll sing to you in the language, and although his singing isn't the best, focusing on the strength and passion in his words, the almost comforting way he sings, it sends you calmly to sleep

Zen

-incredibly respectful of your religion and the fact that you’re Muslim

-he sets himself to learn everything he can about your faith and things he might have to change or alter in his own life to be respectful of the way you live yours

-he cuts down on alcohol. a lot.

-this isn’t to say he stops drinking altogether but he certainly cuts down, only having a beer or two in the fridge for emergencies

-bursts in one day, phone in hand as he wheezes, leaning on the couch for support, “y/n ArE wE hALaL dATiNg Or?”

-if you believe that sex should be saved to be only after marriage, he respects that, if not,, well he respects that too

-WILL spend extra money on an abaya from serenity scarves as a gift, just for you being you

-his only goal is to make you as comfortable as you can be, and he Will Not Stand for islamophobic comments directed towards you, but in most cases he won't even let them reach you, cutting off interviewers before they can say anything with a stream of gushing about how perfect you are, and smoothly taking you to the other side of the room if he thinks someone is looking at you, shooting them a mean glare before looking back at you and smiling, whispering something to make you laugh as you guys walk away hand in hand

-respect is this mans middle name, he’ll meet your family the second you start officially dating, making sure to make a good first impression, the second, and third, and fourth impressions

-likes going shopping with you, and is constantly in awe of how stunning you can make anything look, going to the little middle eastern kiosk in the mall to buy food

-he’s such a shameless fan of those cute matching couples outfits, and his heart bursts everytime your hijab matches the colour or pattern of his shirt or jacket

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chaoswillcalmusdown · 4 years

Text

Title: saw your face and got inspired Pairing: Mohammed Razzouk/Amira Thalia Mahmood Summary: Amira’s getting ready for another year of university when she meets a special someone who knocks her fully off her feet. My @yousanaexchange gift for the awesome, super sweet and super smart @thickskinandelasticheart I tried really hard to make it enemies-to-lovers as per your request but it might be a bit more of dumbasses-to-lovers. Either way, I hope you like it! I really enjoyed writing it. Special shout out to @naslostcontrol for reading it over and making sure it was fit for public consumption 😊

It's not like Amira planned to end up in this situation, it just kind of spiraled out of control. She's never been scared to speak up or voice her opinion, but she's realising that they've been arguing for 15 minutes at this point and the rest of the group is starting to shift in their seats and look at their phones. Amira takes a deep breath, then stares into Mohammed's frustratingly sparkly eyes and calmly says, "Look, I just don't think it's fair to demand emotional labour from oppressed groups in order to educate those who don't give a single shit." She shrugs and then looks over at Faizal, the president, and says, "Uhm, sorry, this really wasn't relevant for the meeting."

She can see from the corner of her eye that Mohammed's head is tilted as he stares her down from across the room. As if she's going to be intimidated by that? What a dick.

Faizal smirks, rolling his eyes, "oh, so we're allowed to move on now? You're finished now?"

Amira smiles angelically, simply adding, "Yep."

The meeting was supposed to be about what kinds of educational events the islamic society wants to do, and Amira thinks all the suggested options cater way too much to the Alman desire rather than intra community issues and needs. She's honestly sick and tired of having to sit through the same kinds of panels discussing whether or not islam is actually feminist/sexist/peaceful/violent/homophobic and so on, she's sick of force-feeding Almans hours of information and sharing her lived experiences only to be met with the same kind of liberal 'color blindness' bullshit she's faced since kindergarten. She deals with enough of that from her fellow students, professors, even the girls from time to time. The islamic society was supposed to be a place where she could chill and hang out with "her people". Faizal decides that they'll postpone the decision making another few weeks and in the meantime asks everyone to make sure they send in suggestions, so the future votes can be as democratic as possible.

Amira takes that as a slight dig, because she knows her opinions aren't really popular among the group. She came into the society looking for friends from within the community but she's managed to clash with most of the group in some way, either with her views or more likely the way she presents them. Nothing out of the ordinary, to be honest. She honestly understands the point of inclusive or educational events, but she would just love it if they could do something else as well. She'd love for them to go beyond what makes the university look good and woke, and do some important things. Create real change. The way German society still isn't okay with hijabis in certain careers is only one of the issues that she's passionate about, but the rest of the society seem to be fine with focusing their attention and resources on holding Eid barbecues and islamic panels where everyone always agrees on everything. She wants to do something that makes a difference. Something that matters. Maybe this society isn't the place for her, after all? Maybe Amira should be focusing more on the campus political parties in the next semester? The meeting wraps up and there are always snacks at the end, so Amira pours herself some tea and grabs a pastry. It's only Tuesday but her mum's been texting her all day about coming to the mosque this Friday. She's really running out of excuses that aren't the truth, but it feels too complicated and ungrateful to put into text and send to her mother, so she just replies with an affirmative.

Faizal comes over to her, giving her a fond but exasperated look. "Dude, I know you've gotta be tough to handle politics, but like. I think you need to relax just a tad. You-" He cuts himself off when someone walks behind Amira to get to the cups. "So, now you've met our charming Amira, eh?" he says to this person, grinning way too widely for Amira's comfort. Sure enough, she turns around and is face to face with Mohammed. He's frustratingly perfect-looking up close, even though his hair is stupidly swoopy and his eyebrows are huge. He's grinning at Faizal in a way that feels condescending as hell. Awesome. Amira sighs, ready to say something mean so she can excuse herself from this entire narrative.

But Mohammed beats her to it. "Yeah," he says softly, this time directed at her rather than at Faizal, "The girl with the coldest gaze." Amira really doesn't like his tone. It's condescending and smug. "It's been an enlightening but terrifying first encounter, Frau Bundeskanzlerin." He mimes a tiny bow, still fucking smirking, and then walks off. What a dick.

- - - - -

Amira has a lot going on in her life. Apart from her combined history and political science degree and her part time tutoring job, she's a sister, a daughter, a friend, and apparently a severely underpaid life coach. She's sat with Sam and Matteo in the campus coffee shop, drowning their sorrows in pastry and trying to get some work done at the same time. She attempts to listen intently to Matteo's latest crisis while she watches Sam sketching for a project. There's something going on with knitting and apparently it's all about dimensions and angles. It's kind of interesting, honestly, with the geometry of it all. But it's mostly making her feel a bit dizzy because of how circular Matteo's anxieties are.

Amira can't help but interrupt, "Matteo, habibi, you know I love you?"

"But shut the fuck up?" he asks self-deprecatingly, scrunching his face up, still dragging one hand harshly through his hair.

"Hä? No, no. I was going to say that we've had this exact conversation before. And, remember how I told you that there's nothing wrong with going to therapy, even just to try it out."

Matteo clenches his jaw, dragging his hand down his face, then letting it drop limply onto the tabletop. He'd gone once during his gap year, but after he'd decided to study programming he claimed he felt "much better" so he never went back. David's been worrying about him, and has tried to involve Amira in his plan to get Matteo to therapy. Along the way they've found that it's truly not possibly to get Matteo to do anything Matteo does not want to do. Amira still prays that he'll find peace and get help, but she's really stopped nagging him. However, when he brings up feeling overwhelmed and frustrated she can't help but speak up and repeat the suggestion. Maybe he'll eventually take the advice.

David arrives and drops down next to Matteo. He's working on a short film outside of his studies and is currently storyboarding, which of course means that Matteo is going to do anything he can to disturb the creative process. It might be cute how they devolve into play fighting even after multiple years, but Amira honestly just finds it ridiculous. Sam is asking about Amira's studies, nodding along to Amira's story about the world's most boring professor, when the impossible happens. Mohammed walks up to the table, wearing the cafe's apron, asking if they've got any empty cups they want to get rid of. Sam thanks him, being friendly in a normal way. Amira's just frozen. Before he leaves, he gestures to Amira's full black outfit complete with black nails, then to her phone which is lying on the table with the case side up, proudly stating 'Black is my happy colour' and says, "Black suits you." Then he turns and jauntily walks into the back, with his tray of dirty mugs. Amira can feel her face heat, which in turn pisses her off. Thankfully, at least no one else can tell she's blushing.

"God, what a dick," Amira huffs.

"Hä? Amira!" Sam laughs. "He didn't even say anything bad?!"

"He commented on my looks? Is that seriously necessary?"

"God, Amira, don't be such a manhater. He was just appreciating your aesthetic. I'm sure he's a totally nice guy. I mean, he's really attractive, and you know incels are always fucking ugly."

Matteo apparently tunes into the conversation at this point, "hey! What's this about hating men? Men are totally awesome!"

Amira narrows her eyes at him, gesturing to where he's stretched across David, keeping him from his sketchbook and holding David's pen high in the air so David won't be able to reach it.

Matteo straightens up, puts David's pen back. David grabs it with a wink in Amira's direction. "I mean, sure, we're stupid, but all men aren't?"

- - - - -

Whenever she says she's busy, Amira's mum gets annoyed with her, so Amira finds herself at a random event at her local mosque. There's some kind of lecture, and then supposedly there'll be food after. Amira can't help but notice that neither of her brothers were nagged into attending, but that's fine. She's somewhat excited to see the girls she used to hang out with all the time, but now only really sees occasionally at the mosque. Or at someone's wedding, which there have been a lot of. She's officially the last one out of her Sunday school group to be married, not that she would have expected anything less. Aunties have always told her she'd have a hard time finding a man to put up with her "strong opinions".

Amira grabs a mug of tea, and is about to scan the room for her girls when an older couple appear. She vaguely knows who they are, thinks they're parents of one of Omar's friends from school. She says hi, and tries to make some polite small talk. Then, the woman goes, "Oh, we heard your brother's getting married!" and Amira realises what's about to happen. She pastes on a polite smile and replies, trying to look around for someone who can save her from this conversation. The husband continues on to jokingly ask if she's next, and Amira keeps the smile on her face when she says, "Oh, I'm focusing on my career first. I still have another a bit left until I graduate." The wife pats her husbands arm and points out that Amira is studying politics. He chuckles and asks, "Are you still doing that? And what are you going to use that degree for? Are you planning on being the first German chancellor with a hijab? While somehow managing a family, as well?" They both chuckle, in a kind of 'oh how silly of her' way. The wife says, "No, Amira, habibi, I think it's great that you're getting yourself educated. They always say that an educated woman teaches a whole village."

Amira sighs, draining her mug. "I don't know about a whole village," she laughs dryly, then says a somewhat polite goodbye and hightails it out of there. When Amira finds her friends, Nadia's talking about her new husband, complaining that he expected her to know what to buy his mother for a 50th birthday present. Someone else is laughing and saying, "Well, wasn't he always a bit distracted?" Amira remembers him well from school and cannot imagine that he has since grown out of his fuck-boy phase into a good husband. While the girls chat about their awful spouses, Amira's attention drifts and she somehow ends up on Mohammed. With a woman in a hijab and two younger kids. She feels a bit unsettled, even worse when they lock eyes across the room and Amira feels her face heat. Mohammed looks confused but then gives a tiny wave before he turns back to the kids.

When Amira snatches her eyes back onto her friends, everyone's looking at Amira. "Hä, sorry?"

Nadia rolls her eyes, "We were just wondering if there's anyone special in your life?"

Amira barks out a laugh, "Wow, no, I'm way too young to get married." She might have forgotten to censor herself there for a second. "Um, I mean, I'm going to graduate first, but I'm looking into post-grad right now, so. It's not a priority yet."

- - - - -

Amira gets home from the mosque annoyed. Over the weekend she goes to a boxing class, and afterwards decides to focus on her studies, and figure out what she's going to do about the islamic society and everything else later. And what she's going to do about everyone at the mosque constantly asking her about her future, all now that your brother is getting married, isn't it your turn next, dear? She's got a few really interesting classes going on at the moment and she heads to her first tutorial which is on European politics. She sees a few familiar faces and chats until the professor shows up and they all file into the room and pull out all their notes. Amira's rooting around in her bag for a pen to lend to her neighbour, when she hears the door open and a smooth voice say, "sorry I'm late". The professor, a really nice but very old white man chuckles and says, "no worries, we haven't quite started yet." Amira reflexively looks over to see who it was, locks eyes with Mohammed, and firmly looks away. This is fine. There are always new people in tutorials, and sometimes you recognise them from around campus. No big deal. Amira passes the pen along and logs onto her computer. She's always been an achiever, and she's not planning on letting herself get distracted by anything. As always, she raises her hand to answer the first question the professor asks, but is surprised when she looks over and sees Mohammed already raising his hand and speaking. Even worse, he's saying the exact thing Amira was going to say. She drops her hand, cracking her neck and stretching out her shoulders, and makes sure to be the first one to raise her hand at the next opportunity instead. Game on.

- - - - -

As much as Amira tries to focus and center herself on what she's trying to achieve, her education and all the things that matter in her life, she can't help but feel unsettled. Every time she has a politics class, Mohammed is just there, raising his hand a split second before Amira and constantly just arguing and disagreeing with her. Whenever she goes to an islamic society meeting, Mohammed is there and yet again, frustrating her and disagreeing with her. She keeps up with her routine, prays and goes to boxing with Sam or Hanna, and tutors, and studies. But she keeps getting distracted, while studying and while praying and even while boxing. All because of one annoying guy. She's heading over to her brothers' shared apartment on a Friday night to drop off a text book for Essam on her way to Mia's place for "girls wine and cheese night". She's got two essays almost due and would genuinely love to get a start on those, but the girls won't let her sit at home on a Friday night while doing research for school. Sam had said it's out of the question, mom.

Essam opens the door, while stuffing his face with pizza. Amira plops her bag down on the floor by the door and shakes out her shoulders. When she looks up, Essam's got a confounded look on his face, "Are you carrying around bricks?!"

"I wish," Amira mutters pulling out the book he needed and dropping it on the ground, letting it thunk. "Gimme some pizza."

Essam snorts and gestures into the apartment, "Bad week?"

"You don't even know. The most annoying guy is in my class. And literally everywhere I look. Such a fucking pain in the-" They turn the corner into the open plan kitchen-dining-living room, and who's sitting at the breakfast bar, handsomely typing away at a computer? Mohammed, of course. At this point, Amira should be fucking expecting it.

Essam grabs Amira a slice and, upon seeing her bewildered face, goes, "Oh, you haven't met! This is my pal, Mohammed, he's the guy who's gonna take over Omar's room after he gets married. My soulmate, yadda yadda."

Mohammed smiles at Amira, "We've met, actually," he says. Amira swallows around her bite, trying to smile since she can't speak due to the chewing. "Through the islamic society," Mohammed adds, shrugging. Amira tries to read off his face whether he heard her ranting as she entered, or not. He doesn't look very offended, so she figures he probably did not.

"Huh," Essam says, nodding. He turns to Amira, "Hey, sorry, you were venting. Something about a really annoying guy?"

Mohammed leaves about twenty minutes later, apparently heading home for dinner. Amira waits approximately 2 seconds after she hears the door close, until she's rounding in on Essam. "How did you not tell me about Mohammed?!" She demands, not realising how ridiculous that sounds, until it's too late. Essam stares at her like she grew a third eye.

"I don't tell you every time I make a friend, Litschi! What the hell?"

Amira shakes her head, pacing. "That's Mohammed," she says. Essam nods, looking towards confusedly at the now closed front door. "No, Fruchtzwerg, it's Mohammed. The annoying guy who appears in every fucking part of my life, and frustrating the hell out of me. It's Mohammed."

"Oh shit."

- - - - -

Essam's confused about the entirety of Amira's story, because Mohammed never argues and Mohammed's the nicest guy ever and most confusingly Mohammed? Is in the islamic society committee? Really? Amira's at a loss. Essam claims to know the guy, but either he doesn't know anything about him or Mohammed's just different with different people. And that's always a bad sign when it comes to guys. Obviously guys lie, and Amira's had enough interactions with guys from all over the place to know not to trust one at first sight. Not that she would want to trust Mohammed for any reason. She just doesn't want her brother to be scammed or anything. It would suck for Essam if Mohammed turns out to be a shitty person.

Amira eats most of Essam's pizza while she fumes over Mohammed's occupation into yet another aspect of her life. She really doesn't know how she's supposed to handle all this exposure to his dumb face. And then Essam points out that Mohammed's going to be in Omar's wedding, so Amira needs to somehow settle a truce with the guy, which is just perfect.

That Sunday marks some anniversary of Kiki and Carlos' which requires a house party. Amira arrives after her prayer with some vegetarian pizzas from down the road. She catches David and Matteo chatting, or probably more likely making out, right inside the front door, and then gets encased in a monster hug from Sam. They chat over pizza, and then, who comes through the door after Jonas? At this point, it should not even surprise her. Mohammed walks through into the living room, waving awkwardly as he gets introduced to everyone. Sam and David seem to already know him, and Matteo, too. Amira is just lost. Even more surprisingly, Essam walks in after them. He waves excitedly at Amira, and Amira really longs for a time where all the different parts of her life were neatly compartmentalised and never met each other at house parties. Next, she's gonna have to introduce her parents to Kirlos or something equally ridiculous.

"He's very cute, huh?" Sam asks Amira, jabbing her playfully with her elbow. Amira rolls her eyes reflexively. "Oh come on, Amira, he's cute. And he's wholesome. You always say I need to date more wholesome men."

Amira shrugs. "But you know a lot of arabs are racist," she mumbles, taking a swig of Pepsi to calm her suddenly agitated nerves.

Sam snorts, "Yeah, thanks, I know. I can be careful, mom."

Kiki and Mia walk over, with Kiki looking between Amira and then Essam and Mohammed. "The blond guy was waving like he knows you," Kiki points out, while Amira curses Essam's entire personality and existence, "Are these guys like your relatives?"

Sam busts out giggling, asking Amira in a silly voice, "Do you know all the arabs in Berlin, Amira dear?" When Kiki looks shocked, she adds, "No, Kiki, I'm kidding, don't worry, sorry, sorry," all while still giggling. Amira thinks back to the time when Kiki had asked Sam if she and boy Sam were related.

"Ha-ha," Amira mutters. "I actually do know them, though. The blond one is, unfortunately my brother."

"No way!" Mia gasps, slapping Amira's shoulder. "You're nothing alike."

"Alhamdulillah," Amira mumbles, setting Sam off into another bout of giggles. Mia smiles, but manages to restrain herself. Amira huffs, adjusting her scarf. "No, he's not that bad… he's just loud? He's my younger brother so of course he annoys me".

"What about the other guy," Mia asks, "You know him, too?"

Sam hums, "Hot, right?"

Mia's appraising Amira very intently and Amira really hates it. She shrugs, "He's a friend of Essam's, I don't know him very well."

Essam appears at her shoulder with Mohammed in tow, and they all get introduced. Essam flirts way too much with Kiki, and Amira tries to melt into the ground with secondhand embarrassment. Eventually Carlos drifts over, probably to show Essam that Kiki is taken, which is just cringe worthy on its own. Amira catches Mohammed's eye just as Carlos wraps his arm firmly over Kiki's shoulders and Kiki looks back at him confused. Mohammed looks like he's trying really hard not to laugh, and he raises his eyebrows, pinching his lips together. Amira shrugs, mouth lifting into a smile before she can stop herself. She pulls her eyes away, anywhere else. Her eyes settle on Jonas trying to teach Matteo some chords on the guitar, and Hanna chatting animatedly with David in the corner next to them. Then, she overhears someone daring to besmirch the name of Mohamed Salah. She looks up, locking eyes with a grinning Mohammed. Carlos is saying something ridiculous about Manchester United, and Amira truly cannot believe the joy she's seeing in Mohammed's eyes. Or the way he's confidently nodding along with Carlos' unbelievably incorrect rant. Sam and Mia look lost, but Essam's grinning gleefully at Amira. As the middle child in a family of strong opinions, he's grown up to become the most neutral person Amira knows, and watches sports mostly to see how riled up Amira and Omar get. "You must have an opinion on this, Litschi, as someone who has a life-sized cardboard cutout of Mo Salah in their room?" Essam's making himself sound like a beat reporter, looking around the group to make sure he has everyone's attention.

Amira clenches her jaw, knowing that she'll never live that nickname down now that the girls have heard it. She can see Sam mouthing it, looking delighted. "You bought me that cut-out, Fruchtzwerg, but yes, I do have an opinion on Mo Salah, the best football player of this generation."

Her argument doesn't quite convince the boys, but then her Maghrib alarm goes off and she slips away to Kirlos' bathroom followed by their bedroom. She's perhaps making a lot of effort to walk without stomping, but having to be at a party with her idiot brother is just really fraying on her nerves. She's never had to interact with him and her friends at the same time. She knows that he thinks she's acting weird, and so will the girls, probably. The'll think she's too harsh on him, or something. Amira's really not a massive fan of praying in her friends' bedrooms, but it's better than a bathroom so she'll take it. She can hear literally everything that's going on in the party, the bass vibrating the walls and floor, and honestly doesn't know how she's meant to be able to focus on anything except that new Zara Larsson song that Kiki's doing a cover of.

When she walks back into the living room, she can't help but feel frustrated about the way she always misses random chunks of parties. She'll come back from praying and catch the girls in a joke that falls flat when they try to explain it to her. You had to be there sometimes feels like the story of her life. The groups have rearranged since she left. Kirlos have ended up on the sofa, with Sam and Mia still talking to Mohammed, while Essam seems to be bonding with Matteo. God help them all. Amira walks over to Sam, because she's still holding Amira's drink. Not for any other reason. She can't help herself, so she asks Mohammed if he's not going to go pray, knowing full well that Essam won't. His smile falters, but he shrugs and says, "I'm not really going to bother in these circumstances," gesturing at the loudness of the party.

Amira can hear Essam's carefree laughter, bristles at the ease and lack of tension in Mohammed's shoulders and she truly doesn't mean to, but she ends up saying, "So you just pray when it's convenient for you?"

Amira can hear Sam make a noise of awkwardness next to her, and she knows she's out of line, knows she has a tendency to attack first, but she's bone-tired and frustrated and nothing she does or is expected to do is ever easy or convenient.

Mohammed, eyes hard, replies, "I thought Islam taught you not to judge. And I don't know if you know, but Germany has laws that regulate a person's right to practice religion how they want, or not practice at all, thank you very fucking much." He looks disappointed at her, which hurts more than she'd like. And then he turns and leaves. Amira feels like the whole party has quieted down, like everyone saw that, but in reality only Sam and Mia did. Though Essam will probably hear about it later.

"Ouff," Sam whines, "Amira, that was harsh".

Amira groans. "You okay?" Mia asks, looking concerned. Amira sighs, squishing her eyes shut.

"Fuck."

"You look like you need a drink," Sam points out. Amira laughs, desperately. "Let's make you a fabulous mocktail. I'm too tipsy to solve anything right now."

- - - - -

Amira wakes up in stages, first noticing the offensive brightness of the room, and burrowing deeper into the covers to try and avoid facing the day. She and Mia went home with Sam and ended up falling asleep and Amira can hear Sam and Mia chatting away, though in hushed tones. She can't help but groan as she stretches. It's far too early.

"Morning, Litschi!" Mia calls, and Amira groans louder. She forgot about that.

The girls let her wake up while they get some tea and wrangle together breakfast. Amira stares at the ceiling and pointedly does not check her phone. She does, however, get up to pee and then pray. When she gets back the girls have managed a decent spread with the leftovers in Sam's fridge.

"We should talk about Mohammed," Sam points out. Mia nods. "You were really mean." Mia nods again.

"You like him, don't you?" Mia's got her knees up, chin resting on them. Amira sputters in response.

"That's a yes!" Sam cheers, giggling.

"It's not," Amira sighs. "He's just a douchebag. Like, he's so flippant about important stuff. Like religion. And he's constantly appearing everywhere I go and annoying me."

"But you still went off on him pretty harshly," Mia points out.

"Maybe he's not muslim?" Sam suggests.

Amira shrugs, mutters, "if he's not then I definitely won't like him but he's in the islamic society, so I doubt that's actually the case. Even though he's maybe not a very good muslim."

"He's there, too? Like, is he stalking you, or?"

Amira sighs, shaking her head, "No, he's just in the islamic society and in my politics class and living in my brother's apartment, and also apparently he now goes to my mosque, too?!"

"Don't forget he's pals with Jonas, too," Sam mentions, laughing. "Listen, there must be a reason this handsome but annoying man has entered your life. Maybe you just need some patience."

Amira groans, but Sam pushes on, "No, Amira, you always hate guys on sight. Like with Alex," she gestures at Mia and Amira does feel bad because she's never really owned up to that, "or with Jonas, with Stefan. Guys lie and all that."

Amira honestly can't argue with that, and she hates it. Mia's been quiet for a while, and looking thoughtful, but she then gets this sparkle in her eyes. Amira hates that even more.

Later that day Mia texts her:

(Not to play devil's advocate but, don't you think it's possible that you're hiding a bit behind the 'bad muslim' thing? Because I think you guys have some incredible chemistry)

That text might haunt Amira for a while, even if she sends Mia a very stern reply.

- - - - -

Amira's chatting to her dad on the phone later that night, and she'd been trying to finish her assigned reading for the week but she kept getting distracted. She honestly felt pretty shitty about how she'd treated Mohammed. She'd had a whole heap of small frustrations building up and she had just accidentally unleashed them all straight into his bothersome face even though most of her frustrations were not at all his fault. She knew she had to apologise, and she genuinely wanted to but she struggled admitting to her brothers that she'd gotten an actor wrong because she hates being wrong. She's always right, so she's really not good at admitting fault.

"Amira, habibi, are you doing something else while we're talking?"

"Huh? Sorry, dad, I'm just a little distracted."

"Ah, I see, well, tell your old man and he can solve all your troubles."

"Hah, thanks, dad. I don't know if you can solve it, though. I was pretty rude to someone for no reason and now I have to apologise to them."

Amira's dad hums. "Was this the same boy as the annoying one in the islamic society that your mum told me about?"

"Yes," Amira mutters. Her parents truly seem to not keep any secrets from each other.

"Hah, well, you've always been very proud, kiddo. I always loved that about you. You know your worth and you don't take shit from anyone. But, before you get too comfortable, you're also terrible at admitting when you're wrong."

"Wow, thanks, dad."

"You get that from your mum, you know. I truly do think it's a good thing, but I hope you don't feel like you always have to be perfect. You've always been strong but it's good to be vulnerable, too. It's hard, sure, but good things do happen when you let your guard down just a tad."

"Ugh, dad, that was so sentimental."

Her dad laughs, "Yes, habibi, I know, I know. Let's switch topics. Tell me about the lecture you had this morning."

- - - - -

Amira is really not in the mood for an event, but even she can agree on the importance of this specific one. It's taken a lot of organisation for everything to work out, and it involves 4 societies (which is also partly why David is involved) and spans a month with one focus each week. This week's fundraising focus is the charity Jonas volunteers for, which does a lot of work with refugee integration in Berlin. She arrives a bit earlier because she promised David and Jonas she would, even though her mother is frustrated with her for not coming to the mosque for some kind of "women in islam" lecture held by a panel of men. Kiki's asking the group chat for a pre-party and since Amira is arriving at the club, she just turns the sound off and heads in, following the music to where she expects to at least find Jonas. She sees Matteo and David hanging out by the stage, where Jonas of course is sat on a stool with his guitar. Jonas sees her and calls her over and while she's approaching she takes in the other figures in the room. She mostly sees people she's never seen or people she's possibly passed on campus before. But then she sees Mohammed standing behind Jonas, by the mic, singing quietly and chatting to Jonas about something, brows drawn. He doesn't seem to notice her, so she keeps approaching.

"Study partner!" Matteo whisper-calls out, turning around to grab and open a coke bottle for Amira, "come join the soundcheck squad."

Amira accepts the drink and asks what they're up to, trying to avoid Mohammed's eyes now burning into the side of her head from where he's still chatting to Jonas.

David wiggles his eyebrows at her, "oh, we're just waiting for the jam session to pick back up. They weren't sure on which key to use, or something nerdy like that." He turns to look at Mohammed, who rolls his eyes, but Jonas starts playing. The room is filling up, there are a few people working behind the bar and some others decorating and moving tables around. Everyone's chatting to themselves and no one is really paying any attention to the stage, where Amira assumes the boys ended up helping Jonas with "soundcheck" in order to avoid manual labour. Amira truly hates being a cliche, but when she first hears Mohammed's voice, goosebumps erupt along her arms. She crosses them across her chest, gripping the coke bottle. David's swaying along and he and Matteo whoop encouragingly at certain notes and lyrics. Amira can't help but grin at their contagious hype, but when she turns her attention back to the stage, Mohammed's looking straight at her. She can't help but swallow, caught out, but looks right back, never one to back down.

Dragging along, follow in your form

Hung like the pelt of some prey you had worn

Remember me, love, when I'm reborn

As the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

Amira can feel her face flushing as she narrows her eyes at Mohammed. He just smirks back at her, and finishes the song. The boys clap and cheer so loudly that they draw the attention of some official looking person with a clipboard, who sighs and huffs and splits them up. David and Matteo grab Amira to head towards the back and David turns on the way to yell some more compliments towards the stage. As they walk, David hums, "You know, Hozier is a man that I'm sure you would agree is an exception to the general rule of male shittiness."

Matteo snorts, mutters, "fucking Hozier…" but David carries on. "He doesn't write boring love songs. He doesn't get intimidated by confident women. To be honest, he loves a strong and terrifying woman-"

Matteo interjects to say, "It's one of those 'choke m-'" but thankfully gets interrupted by David clapping a hand over his mouth before Amira needs to bleach her entire brain and soul.

David sighs and hands Matteo a box of string lights that are supposed to go up somewhere. Matteo takes them with a wink and walks back into the event room. David shrugs, looking at Amira. "Anyways, Mo's got a good voice, right? I keep telling him, but he acts like it's no big deal."

Amira immediately feels suspicious. "How do you all know each other?"

"Huh? Oh, Jonas met him at some kind of open mic, jam thing. I don't really know. And then Jonas and Matteo, you know. We went to one of Jonas' gigs and Mohammed was there." David gestures in an encompassing way, like he's trying to say the rest is history.

- - - - -

The girls all arrive and 'ooh and ah' over how magical the location looks. Amira has to admit that it's nice, even if she's slightly on edge due to how often she keeps bumping into Mohammed while turning a corner. Sam happens to be next to her one of these times and she sighs and goes, "He's so charming. How is he so charming?!" Amira sighs and switches subjects by asking about Sam's nephew, which is honestly the most effective subject change ever. She even gets adorable baby photos out of it.

Later on she's walking from the bar with Mia, when Jonas announces a new song and Amira spots Mohammed by the stage. Based on earlier, she really can't handle another song so she slips away into the back garden. She can see Mia shrugging and looking questioningly at her through the large open doors, but she plants her feet and starts up a conversation with a girl she knows from her European History class. A few minutes later, Mia appears at her side, looking like the cat that got the cream. Amira tries to drag the conversation out, but she and this girl, Anna?, really don't have much in common so she leaves shortly after. Mia's arms are crossed, shit-eating red lipped grin and all.

"How's it going with Mohammed?" she asks.

Amira huffs, assuring Mia that there is nothing going, but she'll apologise when she gets a moment, thank you very much. Of course this is when Amira's Maghrib alarm goes off. Mia looks like she wants to protest, but in the end she realises she can't really argue with it so she just gives Amira her unimpressed tm look when Amira starts backing away, to find somewhere to pray. She was planning to scout out a good location while helping to set up earlier, but Mohammed had ruined those plans for her by distracting her with his face and voice. She asks one of the bartenders and gets led to the staff room, which has an adjacent but tiny bathroom. She's honestly had to settle for worse, even if the staff room could really use a lockable door. She decides to just hurry, and hope no one interrupts her.

Afterwards, she feels centred and calm, like always. She touches up her makeup, and quickly checks her phone. Sam's sent multiple messages to the group chat, the most recent being:

omg how sexy is mohammed's singing voice?! how is he so charming???????

Amira pockets her phone as she opens the door, but hits something. She pauses for a second and tries again. This time the door opens smoothly. Standing on the other side, running a hand through his stupid hair, is Mohammed.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I was heading to the bathroom and one of the bartenders was about to head in, so I-" He waves a hand at the door.

"Oh," Amira can't help but feel stunned, because she definitely doesn't deserve that level of consideration from him of all people. They stand in a slightly awkward silence, Amira looking everywhere except at Mohammed. She realises she's being a bit childish about it so she squares up, clears her throat. "Hey, listen, I'm sorry about my behaviour." She dares a glance up at Mohammed's face. He looks annoyingly smug, arms crossed over his chest. He waits her out, smirking. "I perhaps judged you a bit early. And harshly. It's.. It doesn't happen ever, really, but, I guess… I was wrong. Sorry."

Mohammed nods slowly, looking off to the side. "No harm done. So, listen-"

The door separating the club space from the staff space slams open and a frazzled bartender startles at the sight of them, looks confused. Amira takes this as a perfect opportunity, explaining herself, "Oh, sorry, I was just praying, you know," while gesturing at the locker room behind her and also her head. When the bartender nods, still confused, Amira hurries out to find the girls.

- - - - -

Amira's back at her parents' house for a weeknight dinner. She's helping set the table because her parents don't want her near the food, but she also does not want to sit and chat at the table since Essam's started the night by badgering her about Mohammed in front of their mother.

"Seen Mohammed any more?" Essam asks with a grin when Omar arrives. Amira sends him a look that could kill from across the table. Her dad perks up, "Oh, Mohammed's a good kid. You know Mohammed, Amira?"

Amira sighs, "Yeah, we have a class together, and some friends in common."

At this, Omar looks thoughtful. "You'd like Mohammed," he says, as if it's only just occurring to him, as if the gears are starting to turn.

Her dad latches onto this idea, "Yeah, that's a good point! You're very similar, Amira, stubborn but very smart." He pats her on the shoulder as he walks back into the kitchen to help their mother with the cooking.

When Amira walks back with a stack of plates, Essam's gleefully feeding Omar blackmail material about how Amira had unfairly snapped at poor Mohammed in front of everyone. "I was planning to try and convince them to date but Amira hates him."

"Hä? What did he do?"

"Thanks, Essam," Amira sighs, "He didn't do anything, he was just arguing in favour of stupid shit, and-"

"Like what?"

"Just… He keeps advocating for inclusive events in the islamic society. Having all our events open for everyone even though that always means a whole bunch of people appear and demand us to hold them by the hand and explain every single thing that's going on. Every single event. I'm sick and tired of having to educate ignorant white Germans who can't just google it. That's not why I joined the islamic society."

Omar hums. "Mohammed grew up in Syria, you know," he points out. "He didn't have to grow up in a country full of Almans who know nothing about islam and require hand-holding. So, maybe he just has a higher tolerance for that than we do?"

It's a fully reasonable argument, which Amira kind of hates. She hasn't really ever asked Mohammed anything, barely even spoken to him except to argue with him or be hostile to him. "Yeah, okay, sure. We're just not compatible people, that's all." Essam snorts. "Listen, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not going to ever date a guy who isn't a proper muslim, so that's that. Leave it."

They both look confused. "What do you mean 'not compatible'? And why would you think Mohammed's not religious? He's in the islamic society, isn't he?"

Amira shrugs, "He doesn't pray? He's- I don't know, Essam said-"

"I was surprised he was on the committee, because he's been struggling. But what even is a proper muslim, Amira?" Essam asks, with a grimace. "If Mohammed isn't then I've barely been one lately either, but you don't hate me for it?!"

"No, of course I don't hate you."

"You said my crisis was valid, and I can assure you that Mohammed's was valid, too. Is this why you snapped at him?"

Amira groans, "I don't hate him… I just. Lost my temper, I don't know why. It wasn't like I snapped on purpose. He just aggravates me. He just keeps aggravating me for no good reason." She realises she's been gesturing pretty aggressively, so she drops her shoulders and lets her hands fall to her side. "What do you want me to say?"

"Oh my god, you like him."

- - - - -

Of course, it all comes to a head at Omar and Nour's Henna night. The girls have all been invited and some of the boys (specifically Jonas and Carlos). Amira had tried to convince her brothers that she absolutely did not have any feelings for Mohammed, but it seemed as if she was not very convincing. At least, she managed to get them both to agree to leave her alone and definitely not mention anything about it to the guy in question. And Amira knows they wouldn't dare cross her. During the night she has managed to mostly avoid the aunties and uncles that have been giving her far too wide smiles all night, and she's managed to duck out of several conversations before she had anyone ask her when's your turn, habibi and ended up snapping at anyone. She's chatting to Jonas and Hanna in a decently secluded corner, teaching Jonas the accurate pronunciation of all the sweets he's eating. He's shockingly good at it, and he's really pleased about that fact.

Then, there's a tap on her shoulder. Hanna's eyes widen, and she gently but firmly drags Jonas away. Amira feels this sense of doom impending, but she's also got a few hardcore butterflies appearing in the depths of her stomach. She turns, and there's Mohammed. He's got a piece of baklava in the palm of his upturned hand and he grins at her.

"Frau Bundeskanzlerin," he mutters, doing a really douche-y bow. Amira can't help but laugh, and glances around the room. God, everyone can see this, Amira thinks, even though realistically no one is looking in their direction, but instead talking to the future bride and groom.

"What's your deal?" is what comes out of her mouth.

Mohammed snorts, smile faltering just a little, "my deal?"

"It's really not cute to be flirting with a girl if you're not even fucking religious, you know. Do you know how fucking impossible and rare it is to even have decent interactions with men as a hijabi without them wanting to save or objectify you? It's literally not something that happens. I am sick and tired-"

"Wow," Mohammed mutters, though grinning, popping the piece of baklava he was supposedly presenting Amira with into his mouth and chewing. "What have I done to deserve this utter annihilation?"

"What have you done? You're impossible to read. You're debating in the islamic society one day, then you're not a practicing muslim, then a day later you're in the mosque. What's your deal?"

Mohammed rolls his eyes, crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I'll hold a full length lecture on my relationship with islam in the morning, if you want, but as for what my deal is, I've been trying to ask you out on a date." He shrugs one shoulder, like it's obvious.

Amira splutters in surprise. "You've…. what?"

"It's not my fault you're distracting. You know, you're the one who's impossible. I've literally been in love with you since you gave me that stink eye in ISOC. I think you're amazing even though you're infuriating and judgemental as hell."

"Hmm, we'll agree to disagree."

Mohammed bursts out laughing, "What? No, we definitely won't! Come on!"

Amira notices, from the corner of her eye, that a few aunties and girls she knows from elementary school are taking an interest in them and then she realises how close they've drifted during their conversation. "Shit, people are looking at us."

Mohammed hums, looks around. He shrugs, takes a demonstrative step back. "There we go, much more appropriate."

Amira rolls her eyes, cheeks aching from smiling. "So, your method of flirting is just being oppositional, then?"

"Might be… It worked, though, right?" Amira snorts. "Maybe I should've been more direct and asked for an audience through your secretary?"

It shouldn't make Amira giggle, because it's not really funny, but she still giggles like a schoolgirl she definitely is not. "Hey, Mohammed?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to go out with me?"

Mohammed bursts out laughing, "I'd love to."

#yousanaexchange #druck fic #mazzouk #thickskinandelasticheart #izzy writes #let there be no typos...... and let all my italics pls still be there

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fabulouslyfrizzy · 3 years

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It’s my birthday 🥳 time for an update!!!

- quarantine at home

- finishing up a super chill Ramadan then celebrating eid by hand-delivering gifts for 6 hours

- uprisings in Minneapolis while I was working from home

- rearranging my room

- my childhood friend passing away

- resuming therapy

- going on lots of walks to stop feeling dead inside

- taking a screenwriting class

- being a bridesmaid at my friends wedding

- lots of staying home, playing board games, cooking new foods, and socializing remotely

- going back to Chicago and literally having no friends

- spending nights on my balcony smoking hookah with my friend

- making tik toks out of boredom

- one of my friends ghosting me because he got married

- going to a drive in movie for the first time!

- playing among us with a new group of people over zoom, who eventually became my closest friends

- spending Halloween with my friends and then getting on a zoom call while still high

- election week

- Hamza coming to visit and us eating nothing but junk for a week

- eating hot Cheetos for days

- starting to meet my online friends irl

- becoming obsessed with bubble tea

- starting to play Mario kart

- making an among us tik tok with my new friends

- going home for 6 weeks to ring in the new year

- spending all night talking to a much older guy

- working out regularly

- doing movie marathons via zoom

- joining clubhouse and meeting even more people

- celebrating my parents 30th wedding anniversary

- trying to become more mature in how I dressed

- doing a zoom session with my man and his parents

- watching the Super Bowl and eating a lot of good food

- celebrating Valentine’s Day while it was negative 10 degrees outside

- my friend coming to visit her boyfriend and me realizing she’s probably not the best friend I want

- sleepless nights while job searching

- the among us squads Chicago meetup

- getting into an MFA program in LA

- Hamza surprising me for a visit for our 4 year anniversary

- getting a job at the Washington post

- spending Ramadan on my own for the first time

- having lots of amazing adventures with lots of amazing friends

Alhamdulillah. 24, here I come :)

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oxenhide · 3 years

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greenthebloodofangryvulcans · 6 years

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excuse this rant because I lost my phone a few days ago I can’t call someone to talk to them about shit my best friend is on night shift and my other best friend is involved

The backstory is that me, K and V were friends in high school - K keeps in touch regularly and V only messaged me when she was drunk, and when she invited me and K out she would really quickly ditch us for her huge group of cousins (her cousins absolutely ripped the piss out of us and didn’t try and speak to us ever. because K and I are white, and they are not. We tried really hard and we were left out everytime, because I dont drink, and K felt left out and didnt want to drink. V and all her cousins are Muslims so they hide the drinking and smoking from their parents.) K and V started going out without me, but K would invite me last minute after V “””forgot””” to invite me. I included V in everything; my birthday, I bought her gifts at Eid like she did for me at Christmas, we went on a fucking summer holiday together, I made sure she wasn’t alone during school??? and she couldnt invite me out for lunch. By the time K realised I wasnt invited and tried to include me, I wasnt able to make it. I’m notoriously a planner and everyone knows it. fucking everyone.for V’s birthday she sent me a text saying we were all (her, her cousins and K) going to Edinburgh and that I could share a hotel room with K - we were having dinner, going for pre drinks and then going clubbing. I dont drink and I work a minimum wage job. Working out the costs her birthday night out was going to cost me at least £100. So I didnt go, and because I didnt go, neither did K, for fear of being the only “white girl”. Long story short, V never messaged me again and promised K that she was texting me all the time. Nope. Fast forward 8 months till today -

we thought we were getting 5 inches of snow last night so I had to stay overnight at work otherwise I might not have made it in in the morning (I was working till 11pm and was due in at 7am the next day because my work is so very fucking shit). Fine I got to stay in a hotel but yay for my 4 hours sleep before another 10 hour shift Work really fucked me up and I really didnt hold it together well because we’re understaffed and theres loads of pressure and I’ve not been in the company or industry long (6 months). I cried on and off for 3 hours in work today. But I need the money too much to resign.

Got home and cried about it some more and then my parents leave to give me space and to go out for dinner with friends. I got a dominos, I bought Civil War and got half way through. Message from K saying “lmao I went out with ‘V’ today and it was totally fine haha” Obviously I told her I was really hurt and she kind of didnt really react?? I STILL WASN’T INVITED despite that being the reason shits falling apart and shes like “aw bro its all good, Im sure its mutual hatred anyway lol rip friendship” so I finish what was basically a 28 hour day in work, to sit alone while two of my “friends” go out and then tell me about it later

I’m likely being unnreasonable out of anger but I’m ill with stress and I can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired of giving it my all and getting nothing back. I’m tired.

#jimdoesthething #long rants #TLDR is friends and mean and my life is shit today #well my life has been shit for a few months but hey I have great friends too

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1vacationatatime-blog · 6 years

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In true Katie style, I procrastinated packing my actual suitcases was until the last possible second. Starting to sort through everything I’d unceremoniously stuffed into suitcases at 10pm when I needed to be ready to head to the airport at 7am was ambitious and completely reflective of my overall mental state in preparing to move to Abu Dhabi. Yes, I was excited, but yes, I was also an emotional wreck thinking about leaving the people and places I had loved and called home for the last 5 years. In those last 5 years I had been blessed with the most amazing roommates, and spent the majority of that time with the two GENUINE ANGELS who helped me pack late into the night, despite having their own lives to carry on with the next morning. Tolerating my neurosis in sorting all the clothes I wanted to bring into piles by type, to make the necessary executive decisions at the last second as they helped me literally pack my life into 3 checked, 1 carry on suitcases and 1 backpack is an expression of love I sincerely hope to repay them for some day. I could not have walked out of that apartment in any sort of composed manner if it weren’t for their help and for that I am eternally grateful.

wishing I could pack @sassypatchy into a suitcase and bring her with

The first leg of my journey was the flight from Boston, to New York JFK, as that’s the direct flight hub to Abu Dhabi on Etihad Airlines, with a casual 13 hour flight time. However leaving from a domestic terminal, and not the more familiar international terminal, was unnerving for me. Purely by my own preference, I’d taken at least twice as many international flights as domestic since I’d started a salaried job; and the natural departure point in my mind should have been the glittering tiled globe on the floor of Terminal E directly in front of the security line. The Universe saw fit for me to leave from Terminal C instead, which has by far the best banner compilation of Boston-sports championships I’ve ever seen. So after the slow, tearful goodbye from my family, instead of stepping onto and over a globe to start my move, I’m faced with a winding queue*, back and forth, and back and forth looking at representations of some of the best parts and memories of the city and time in my life that I was effectively leaving behind. Having a layover in New York on my way out gave me time to finish downloading all of the music, podcasts and Netflix series I didn’t want to live without, and continue building myself up that I really was ready and excited for the steps ahead.

I’m not the pickiest flier, but without a doubt the nicest flights I’ve ever been on have been with Qatar Airlines and now Etihad Airways. The way companies are using science to work with the lighting and food in the cabins to make long-haul flights easier on your body as you fly is really outstanding. They also don’t skimp on the in-flight amenities in terms of eye covers, earplugs, mini toothbrushes, blankets, and headphones. It might also help that on each of my experiences with these airlines I was given the gift of having no one in the same row as me, so I was able to stretch out and actually sleep on both flights. Plus their food is excellent and Etihad had paneer as their vegetarian option. So science, goodies, sleep and food, I’m really not hard to please. Having some genuine shut-eye on my flight helped me feel significantly more presentable when meeting all of my future administrators at the arrivals gate too.

yaaaaasss

Getting our UAE SIM cards at the airport with the school staff’s assistance helped our transition into our apartments immeasurably as I immediately had issues in my apartment within about 20 minutes of arriving, and needed to call the maintenance team and our transition coordinator. Apparently, when we turned the hot water heater on, a pipe was loose and started leaking, so my kitchen ceiling was drip, drip, dripping for a while before I even realized what the sound was. Within an hour, two teams had been to the apartment to check it out, had hopped up on ladders, looked around and actually fixed the issue and left. Given that a verrry similar pipe leak had been occurring in my Boston apartment, for the actual last five years, and my landlord had danced and danced around actually addressing the problem, until the ceiling had fallen through with mold, all signs point to my apartment-maintenance experiences in Abu Dhabi will be much better than in Boston. After the leaky ceiling debacle, to be productive on our first day in the UAE, one of my new coworkers and I hopped in a cab to the IKEA at the Yas Mall. God Bless the Swedes and the relentless need for all retail shops to look the same no matter what country you’re in. After some well earned 1 dirham ice cream, we managed to jam all of our goods into the back of a cab. However, once arriving home I realized I didn’t have scissors to open the impossible plastic around the drill I’d bought and would be stuck until I headed to the mall the next day with the school team. I’ve heard the UAE criticized by other travelers for having shopping and malls as tourist attractions, but they undoubtedly didn’t need the free home delivery from Carrefour as desperately as we did, and couldn’t enjoy a leisurely lunch without their massive bags full of home goods the same way.

obligatory IKEA selfie

The way my school transitioned their new teachers, gradually step by step, taking care of so many of the Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for us made this move so much less stressful. Other teachers who were new to my school, but have had previous international school experience said that this transition was by far the smoothest they’ve ever experienced. A great example is how our first day of the new teacher orientation started with a casual networking-get to know you breakfast/presentation time with the opportunity for a cash salary advance before loading us all onto buses to the Yas Mall to get more of the essential items to make our apartments feel more like homes. The school’s unofficial motto is that “kindness starts at the curb” and as a new teacher stepping into a new role, system and grade level that really started at the arrivals gate of the airport for me. I couldn’t be more grateful to the people who made my transition easier through setting up the apartment, helping with my visa and flights, and the general understanding from the administration how difficult the transition is, and communicating how supportive they can be for us within their roles at the school. The whole first week was broken into small chunks on general need to know information about the school itself, but also about Abu Dhabi and the UAE overall. So while definitely presented with overwhelming amounts of information, I was surrounded by other people in the same boat as me and that’s made such a difference. A larger school, taking in 51 new teachers in a year is an endeavor to say the least, but each step of the way has been steeped in understanding and kindness, and the overall positivity is something I’m really looking forward to in the school year to come. Outside of school, anxious to actually do some touristy things besides shop, two girls and I bopped around Abu Dhabi during the week and actually ventured up to Duabi on our first full day off. Hitting up the Emirates Palace for a very bougie-cappuccino with 23-karat gold flakes was a definite must. The Palace overall is a wonder of opulence and the giant domed ceiling’s gold and teal colors are definitely something I’m going to try to incorporate into my apartment as I attempt to match the brown couches that were provided with my arrival. Having views of the sea on one side, and a skyline on the other, Emirates Palace seems to embody the harmony of old and new that the UAE has been developing in its 46 years since becoming an independent nation. Later in the week, on the first day of Eid-Al Adha, we got to visit the Corniche, and expanse of beach that runs along the north side of downtown Abu Dhabi. The first day of a holiday, the beach was packed, but the 102 degree heat meant that we were able to walk along, see the view across the water to the ferris wheel on the island opposite, and breathe the sea air before hustling back to the air-conditioned sanctuary of the car. On our first Friday-weekend, we decided to head up to Dubai to visit the Green Planet, a rain forest in a building on the outskirts of the city. Looking out the windows to sandy expanses, while surrounded with vegetation and animals from the Amazon and other tropical rain forest climates was surreal. The optional “encounter” with a sloth was an absolute must for us, and after almost getting pooped on by some birds, we were happy to hang with Liam their male sloth in a meet-and-greet space in the basement of the building. Sleeping for 18 hours of the day, and typically only waking up for 20 minutes at a time to eat, Liam definitely embodies the lifestyle I’ve dreamed of after some long days of working with middle-schoolers. In a seemingly newly developed area of Dubai that had stunning views of the Burj Khalifa, the drive between the cities was easy enough, I will absolutely returning for other weekend trips.

Above all, in the first week in Abu Dhabi what I mostly felt was an enduring sense of gratitude.

Above all, in the first week in Abu Dhabi what I mostly felt was an enduring sense of gratitude. Grateful to my friends and family at home for supporting me in so many different ways in my preparation and actual departure. Grateful to have no one sit next to me on the plane, (seriously, how often does that actually happen?!). Grateful to my new school for taking a chance on me, and being so incredibly kind and welcoming in the first few days. Grateful for my new work buddies who are fast becoming my closest friends here. Grateful for my American passport having an easy (and free) tourist visa entry into the UAE after I had been stressing about the process, and so many additional privileges as an expat here as well. Grateful to the soft-start I had in beginning to actually work. Grateful I didn’t have to apartment hunt, or move the main furniture in while jet-lagged. But truly grateful for this opportunity to use my profession in a way to follow my dreams; this is just the beginning. As “Your Joyologist” would say: I am stepping into my fears, and choosing gratitude as my attitude.

*sorry not sorry for all of the British English phrases that will inevitably make its way into my general expressions; it was bound to happen at some point, might as well start that process now.

PS. Whadddupp Euphoria stage! Can’t wait to return to these graphics when I’ve moved on

PPS. Only two more months until I have a string of days off in a row and can start planning #1vacationatatime 🙂

Abu Dhabi: the final rush in preparation & the flurry of firsts In true Katie style, I procrastinated packing my actual suitcases was until the last possible second. Starting to sort through everything I’d unceremoniously stuffed into suitcases at 10pm when I needed to be ready to head to the airport at 7am was ambitious and completely reflective of my overall mental state in preparing to move to Abu Dhabi.

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