#inshallah one day sigh.

[answertocarnality]

"how much muslim influence is in your li-" yes.

[notetaeker]

October 2, 2022 - Sunday

So gloomy and cold today 😔 I finished crocheting my scarf… I put the ends together and made it an infinity scarf. Sigh I’m in such a somber mood today 💔 guess today is just one of those days 💔 Anyway I have a meeting soon ~ hope my day turns around inshallah 💓 edit// it did alhamdulillah 😌 I was very energized after the meeting maybe I am not the introvert I think I am dhdhd I may be more of an ambivert

[lucreziasredwyne]

∞

lucrezia’s lips curved into a small, fond smile as she leaned forward, her hands resting delicately on her knees. the soft scent of lavender and orange blossom wafted from the gardens around them, mingling with the sweetness of honeyed baklava. the arbor’s sun-dappled courtyard shimmered with a golden warmth, yet her heart felt heavy for her friend.

“habibti,” she began, her voice soft but steady, her hand resting upon her heart as though she were speaking nothing but the whole truth under the subjection of an oath. an absentminded movement of genuine earnestness. "do not be excusing yourself for talking. you haven't a clue how much i have needed this!" she reached forward to rub her friend's forearm, a genuine sense of relief in her words. "you can come as many times as you need. truly. you are welcome here." she reassured, dropping her hand.

“you’ve always been more than the roles you’ve worn. more than the titles or the expectations. you were always the one who saw the world not as it was but as it should be. even now, i see that spark in you, even if you can’t.” back when orange sunsets and red squirrels were what made her the happiest; back when three months of a year were the highlight of it all, when she would live for the hope of it all.

"i remember hearing you argue with the boys like it was yesterday. do you not remember the day you told tirius rowan to stop talking over us?" she asked, a slight twinkle in her hazel hues; back when it were ayca who did most of the arguing for them both. she had appreciated it then, wished to be like her then. it was only in the years that passed did lucrezia redwyne take some solace and comfort in who she was as a person.

her gaze drifted to the fountain, its rhythmic cascade soothing yet melancholic, a mirror to the conversation between them. she moved to “you’re right, the war stole so much from us,” she admitted, her voice faltering for a moment. “it took our innocence, our delusions. it left us questioning who we are, years later. i’ve felt it too, more than i care to admit. i'll admit to you tenfold, if it tells you that you are not wrong for thinking such things." she uttered, slipping the sandals from her soles and dipping her feet into the fountain.

what comes next, ayca asked. there was a strand of lucrezia's curled hair as she let out a small sigh, almost a huff. as though she were trying to think of some sort of philosophical response; it did not take long before a smile stretched across her lips. "you know...i think we just live, ayca." she responded, her tone and her voice juxtaposing the somberness of the conversation."for those who aren't, and for the will of those we will never be able to understand until we ask them in the next life, inshallah." it was in small moments like this that such short answers alluded to the influence a partner had on her, the ability to just sometimes accept things were the way they were.

"you don’t have to figure it all out right now. maybe what comes next isn’t about finding some grand purpose but rediscovering the small pieces of yourself—the ones that make you laugh, the ones that make you feel alive.” she paused, the sounds of her gold jewelry against her wrist softly ringing out alongside the sounds of a fountain. "have you been doing your painting recently? why do you not try to see if your work can be spread, network with other artists. i have connections within the reach should you wish, gael hightower works extensively on it. even the king."

the lady of seagard turned her gaze from the fountain to lucrezia, her lips curving into a soft, almost hesitant smile. the weight of the question hung in the air between them, a gentle nudge that she couldn’t ignore. she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her hand instinctively brushing against the cool stone of the bench beside her, grounding herself.

“i’m not sure i know the answer myself,” she admitted, her voice carrying the quiet honesty she rarely allowed. “when I suggested coming back with you, i told myself it was to see you, the boys, to spend time in a place that’s always felt like a second home. and, of course, that’s true.” she paused, her fingers trailing the edge of the goblet she’d set aside. “but maybe… maybe it’s more than that.”

her eyes flickered back to the fountain, the water’s rhythm almost hypnotic. “the arbor has always been a sanctuary. a place where life felt simple, safe, even magical. perhaps i thought that coming here, i could feel some of that again. that i could… i don’t know, find a piece of myself I seem to have lost somewhere along the way.” her smile faltered slightly, her voice growing quieter. “the war took so much from us, lu. more than i think either of us realized at the time.”

her chestnut tresses framed her face as she turned toward her friend, her gaze steady but distant, as though looking at something only she could see. “i’ve been so many things, lu. a daughter, a wife, a lady of my house. and now… now i’m not sure what i am anymore.” her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her cloak, a rare display of restlessness from someone usually so composed. “after the war, after losing him…” she swallowed hard, the words sticking in her throat, but she pressed on. “i keep wondering who i’m supposed to be now. what comes next. and the truth is, i don’t know.”

she shook her head slightly, the movement dispelling some of the heaviness. “maybe that’s why i came back. to feel like myself again, even for just a little while. to be reminded of the parts of me that aren’t tied to loss or duty. the parts that laugh and tease and throw grapes at our friends.” she tilted her head, now studying the other's face with a small, mischievous smile creeping back onto her lips. “though, to be fair,” she began, her tone turning playful, “if i were going to dump my existential crisis on anyone, it would always be you."

ayca leaned back slightly, crossing her arms with a feigned air of seriousness. “but if i really wanted to make it up to you, maybe i should help out around here. what do you think—me, stomping grapes in the vineyards? or would you prefer i chase your boys around until they’ve exhausted their infinite energy? i’m not above bribing them with baklava to behave, you know. does little callum have teeth yet?"

her laugh bubbled up, warm and light, breaking the tension she’d inadvertently created. she reached for another piece of baklava, holding it up like a peace offering. “forgive me, lu. i promise I’ll balance all this brooding with enough antics to keep you entertained.”

[tamamita]

Hey, i just felt like dropping by to say that besodes the Korn (sigh) post that is my price for following ur blog, i genuinely love this a lot. I mean, I'm sunni muslim, and learning the subtle differences between sunni and shi'a practices are actually incredibly fascinating and awesome. You also drop amazing history facts that even i didnt know and your boiling hatred for france makes my day :D Hope ur havin a good one

Thank you, habibi

May Allah guide you to love Korn Gohan, inshallah <3

[too-gay-for-marvel]

it started slow

a/n: im alive! for now! im getting my shit together again so i SHOULD be a little more regular with my writing inshallah. also, i think at this point yall should know that if you send a request, theres a 90% chance itll turn into a oneshot and,,,,,, im not sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

Request:  Bonjour, love I was wondering if you can do a Natasha X reader, where they get into a big fight because Nat has been spending more time with Carol, And after their fight the reader leaves, and Natasha's mad but Carol tells her that she has been spending way to much time with her. But can it have a good ending. Thank you

Word Count: 2231

Warnings: none

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

It started off with training.

Everyone trained with each other, it was nothing new. Sometimes you would train with Nat and sometimes you wouldn’t, it was just the luck of the draw. It wouldn’t hurt your feelings because at the end of the day, you were still a professional. Maybe you preferred training with Nat, but you weren’t unreasonable.

But the amount of times Nat “happened” to get paired with Carol for training was suspicious.

You had brought it up to her one night at dinner. Just a simple “you’ve been training with Carol a lot lately.” You weren’t trying to stir shit, but maybe you had sounded a little too accusing. But Nat just brushed it off, said it was on Fury’s orders. And who were you to argue against Fury? So what if Nat was training with Carol every morning, maybe it was for the best.

Then it carried on into the afternoons.

You would never tell Nat not to hang out with other people. Past experience had led you down that rabbit hole and there was no way on hell you would do that to someone else. Besides, you were ecstatic that Nat had other people to hang out with because she needed some fun in her life.

So Nat would end up going to lunch with Carol almost every other day, and you would send Nat a quick smile and tell her to have fun. Maybe those lunches went long sometimes and you wouldn’t see Nat again until the evenings. It was fine. It just meant she was having fun, right? Sure, it was taking away some of the only free time you two had, but it was fine.

But then it continued into the evenings and that was the last straw.

Sometimes Nat wouldn’t come back until ungodly hours of the night, or she wouldn’t even come back at all. You weren’t going to accuse her of cheating because, first and foremost, you trusted her with everything in your being. But it still hurt that she was spending her rare free time with someone that wasn’t you.

Now, you didn’t think yourself an unreasonable person. You didn’t think yourself a controlling person either. All of you had jobs to do, and if you weren’t a cohesive unit then things were going to go wrong. That was how the job had always been, and it wouldn’t change. That being said, you didn’t think it was such an awful thing to miss your girlfriend.

So when Nat came home at 3:34am (because you were both supposed to have a night in), you weren’t in the mood to compromise.

“It’s late,” Nat had said when she noticed you sitting at the kitchen table, four empty coffee cups scattered around you and another in your hands.

“Wasn’t sure you’d noticed,” you said, barely louder than a whisper.

“Why are you still up?” Nat asked as she took her boots off and hung up her coat. Like she hadn’t been gone all day and missed another date night.

“I was supposed to have a movie night with my girlfriend,” you said a little louder, “maybe you know where she was.”

Nat froze for the smallest fraction of a moment. If you hadn’t known her for as long as you had, you wouldn’t have even noticed it. Maybe you shouldn’t have noticed it. You should have just ignored it and let Nat lie her way out of whatever was going on because it would be easier. And just as quickly as it had happened, it ended.

“She was with Carol,” she said simply before leaning against the counter that she had moved to.

“What a surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always with Carol.”

“I am not,” Nat defended, and you could see the defiance in her eyes. The belief that she was right and there was no possibility of her being wrong. A look you absolutely adored when it wasn’t directed at you.

You didn’t want to get mad. Your whole life had consisted of keeping your cool in these tense moments. It should have been easy to stay calm under pressure. But the way Nat stood with her arms crossed defensively over her chest and the way she tried to appear nonchalant in her stance pissed you off. How could she not see it?

Did she think you were blind?

“When was the last time we had a lunch date?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Last week,” Nat shrugged.

“Two months ago,” you corrected.

“Then I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“I’m going on a mission tomorrow,” you shot back, your voice raised just enough to send a message. “You would know if you weren’t always with Carol.”

“What do you have against her?”

“Nothing!” You finally shouted as you shoved your chair back and stood up. “I have nothing against Carol! You deserve friends and people that love to spend time with you! But I have everything against you treating me like your second choice.”

Nat opened her mouth to argue, but you shot her a look that shut her up.

“I don’t care how often you hang out with friends, because it’s important,” you reiterated, “but I will not be second best in my own goddamn relationship.”

Nat continued to stare with that unreadable expression that you still had yet to understand. And it didn’t make you mad like you thought it would, no. No, actually, it made you sad. Sad because after telling your girlfriend that you felt like second best, she had nothing to say. She didn’t bat an eye.

And you couldn’t argue with that, could you?

No, you couldn’t. So you walked past Nat, grabbed your coat and keys, and left.

----------

Natasha didn’t move from her spot for almost 10 minutes after you left the Compound apartment. She hadn’t considered it “storming out,” but you had certainly left in a hurry. And right after you had shut the door the gears in her brain had started turning. You were wrong, she hadn’t treated you as second best.

Right?

No, of course she hadn’t.

Had she?

With a frustrated sigh, Natasha turned and grabbed her coat and left, making her way to the gym. If the past had taught her anything, Carol would still be there. Which would be great because then they could work out some anger and maybe even get a bit of advice. Not that Carol was good with relationship advice, but who else could Natasha ask?

I don’t treat you as second best, we do things all the time, Natasha thought as she walked down the sidewalk, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.

I always come home to you, isn’t that enough? She crossed the street without looking, knowing that the cars would screech to a halt if need be.

There’s no way it’s been two months since our last lunch date. The coffee shop you both frequented passed by without so much as a glance from Natasha.

If I really treated you so bad, why didn’t you tell me sooner?

The doors to the gym posed no obstacle as Natasha shouldered them open and trudged inside. She had started the walk with a mission, a dedication to work out her frustration, but now that she had made it to her destination… now her chest felt constricted.

“Didn’t you go home?”

Natasha looked up from the hole she had subconsciously been staring into the floor and saw Carol wiping the nonexistent sweat from her neck. She had been training with Danvers long enough to know it was almost impossible for her to sweat. Damn enhancements.

“Had too much energy,” Natasha said as she shrugged her coat off and dropped it onto a bench.

“You sure?” Carol asked, an uncharacteristic uncertainty in her voice. But Natasha still didn’t turn around and instead worked on wrapping her wrists.

“Absolutely. On the mat, Danvers.”

She didn’t look up, knowing that Carol would meet her on the mat even if she wasn’t really sure about it. But they both met in the middle and Natasha finally looked up to see a look in Carol’s eyes. A look that Natasha knew meant Carol was not happy with her. But she knew there was no chance she would actually be called out on it.

With that being said, the both of them started sparring.

Something was off with the way Carol was fighting though, and no matter how much Natasha goaded her, it didn’t change. All she wanted was to get hit so hard that she could try to make sense of what you had said to her earlier. Maybe if Carol knocked her senseless then your argument would be logical.

“Nat,” Carol said after a lull, “go home.”

“A few more rounds,” Natasha shrugged before going at Carol again.

Only Carol took it seriously this time.

Now, Natasha was a master at hand-to-hand combat, there was no question about it. But when compared to the power of an infinity stone? It wasn’t fair; still surprising though. So when Natasha was slammed down onto the mat with Carol’s knee pressing against her chest, she was shocked.

And pissed.

“The fuck, Danvers?”

“You’re never home anymore,” Carol accused as she leaned down to be closer to Natasha’s face. “Go home.”

“It’s fine,” she shot back before trying to push Carol’s knee off. But she wasn’t kidding around and was using all her power to force Natasha to listen.

“When was the last time you took Y/N on a date?”

“None of your business,” Natasha said, but her heart started racing at the question.

“You’re always with me,” Carol accused again. “You need to go home.”

“Y/N’s not even at home,” Natasha admitted, shocking the both of them. “So what’s the point?”

The look Carol gave her was almost insulting. But she removed her knee nonetheless and helped her up to her feet. And the look she continued to receive forced Natasha to face things she didn’t want to because if Carol was giving her that look, then the odds of Natasha being wrong were… pretty high.

“Go home and wait,” Carol said with a pitied smile. “Trust me.”

And with that, Carol left. Didn’t even wait for Natasha to give confirmation that she would listen to the advice, but she didn’t need to. They both knew Natasha would listen because, if she were being honest with herself, Carol had managed to stay with Maria for years.

Maybe the air force had been good for something.

----------

It was weird to come home after so long apart. You and Nat would separate because of missions, obviously, but this… this was different. You hadn’t parted with a kiss and a warning to be careful. It was silence and fear and frustration all balled up in your stomach, and the distance had only made it worse.

You shouldn’t have been gone for so long, but you were too upset. Right after you had left and gotten back from your mission, you had called Fury to tell him you would be gone for a few weeks and that you needed space. Of course he had listened, but part of you had wished he would have made you stay. If you had stayed, you would have been able to force Nat to talk to you.

Because she was wrong and she needed to know, her pride be damned.

But after five weeks of a mission and cooling off, no one had called and instead of giving you time to calm down, it just made you more upset. So that was what led to you putting your key in the lock to your apartment once again. Part of you hoped Nat was in there.

The other part hoped she wasn’t.

“Oh thank god.”

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist the moment you opened the apartment door. The force of the collision was almost enough to knock you off your feet, but you managed to keep your footing. And just like that, with those familiar arms wrapped around you, your heart felt like it was home again.

“You were right,” Nat said quickly once you wrapped your arms around her shoulders in return. “You were right and I’m sorry.”

You pulled back just enough to be able to look her in the eyes. After so long together, you would know if she was telling the truth based on the look in her eyes. There was nothing but regret, sorrow, maybe a bit of fear. But most importantly, you saw truth.

“How long did it take you to admit that to yourself?” You asked her with a raised brow.

“I-,” she paused, her eyes flickering between yours. “A few hours.”

“That quickly?”

“Carol beat it into me,” Nat admitted, and your facade finally broke.

“You’re an idiot,” you chuckled before leaning down and leaving a light kiss on her lips.

“Your idiot,” she mumbled against your lips before moving forward for another kiss, this one deeper than the first.

You know you both needed to talk about it. A kiss and an “I’m sorry” wouldn’t be all it took, especially if there wasn’t a real understanding of what had gone wrong. But you could talk about it in the morning.

Right now, you needed to feel home again.

[belphegor1982]

…it’s done. Finished. My monster Mummy fic, the one I started in 2003, started publishing in 2004, and left dormant since 2008 – I finally completed it o.O Weirdly (or not), this is the chapter which gave me the most trouble, if you don’t count chapters 16 and 17 (which took me 2 and 16 years to write, respectively). It was hard to say goodbye to this story and these characters, even though I knew I literally just had to get an idea for another story :-/

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested… (story on AO3; on FFnet)

(Chapters on Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23)

Chapter 24: Departure (on AO3 here; on FFnet here)

London, September 1937

A little off Paddington Station, almost in Marylebone, was a small pub called the Stars and Crown, its red brick façade almost exactly similar to the others along the street. It was an unassuming little affair Jonathan liked to patronise every now and then, and not just because it happened to be situated not too far from his flat.

It was a balmy mid-September late afternoon and one of the double doors was wide open on the quiet street. Jonathan and Tom were seated by one of the stained-glass windows, drinking – G&T and a ginger beer, respectively – and talking. Jonathan, remembering the promise he’d made after blowing up Hamilton’s lorry, had bought the rounds.

But for small details like the mostly healed-over scratches on Tom’s hands, the old scar in Jonathan’s left palm, and all the subtler little ways the past two decades had changed them, they might as well have been twenty year old students again.

Well, apart from the subject of their conversation.

“I got off easy, if you ask me.”

“Nonsense. You were the only one who tried to fix this bloody disaster. It’s only fair that you didn’t… You know.”

“…Pay for my mistakes?”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Tom gulped a mouthful of ginger beer, still looking glum.

“I suppose – I know – I should be grateful I didn’t end up like Hamilton, at least.”

Jonathan winced.

Charles Hamilton had made it back to England in a slightly better state than he had made it out of the pyramid, but that wasn’t saying much. From what they had heard, he was lucid for about an hour a day, and that was it – and not very coherent at that. Which made the fact that he allegedly hung himself in his cell a week before his highly sensitive trial very suspicious indeed. The man didn’t appear capable of putting on his trousers on his own, let alone do anything as complex as a slipknot.

The Lord Chancellor’s Department had issued a statement half-heartedly lamenting Hamilton’s demise, the newspapers had stayed surprisingly quiet about it, and Evy had fumed for an entire fortnight. And that had been it. Hamilton had taken the gentleman’s way out. Case closed.

At least Gabriel Baine had been tried, convicted, and sent behind bars for a lengthy period of time. Jonathan didn’t particularly care where he was, as long as he could be elsewhere.

Baine had stated a few times that there hadn’t been anything personal about shooting and ordering his men to shoot Jonathan, Rick, and Tom. Jonathan had silently begged to differ. Baine’s shouts of “Kill them” followed by the sudden excruciating pain in his back, not to mention the confusion and terror as he fought not to die and lost, had felt pretty damn personal.

Tom stared into his glass for a while, then looked up with a brighter expression.

“But enough about this fiasco. How’s your family? I seem to remember your sister’s birthday was coming up, you were lookin’ for a present when we bumped into each other at that bazaar. Did you find one, in the end?”

Jonathan perked up. “I did, actually. Got her a signet ring. She seemed to like it.”

Now that memory he would treasure as long as he lived.

An inventory of his pockets had revealed a hodgepodge of small trinkets which he was still trying to trace. The little medallion with the amethyst cameo must be early Regency, stolen by the pygmy mummies from some unfortunate Napoleon soldier’s corpse; the lapis earring was probably from the Ramesside period (a few Rameses had sent their armies to find or reclaim Ahm Shere, Jonathan had found); the couple of gold and silver rings bearing the Roman SPQR were a little incongruous but easy to chalk up to Julius Caesar’s expedition. There were also some 4th Century Persian coins, proving Alexander the Great’s men had also reached Ahm Shere – the Oasis, anyway – and a number of little amulets from various Egyptian expeditions, mostly heart scarabs made of red and green jasper, copper, quartz, bronze, or gold. He hadn’t determined the nature of the green gemstone yet, saving it for last.

Jonathan had been so excited by his find that he hadn’t gambled a single object. Tracing their origins took time, but he had not even told Evy about it yet. Instead he had not only called on every scrap of expertise he had concerning treasure, but also on every book he could lay his hands on. Evy would have been very surprised – not to mention highly suspicious – if she learned how much time he had been spending at the British Library lately.

He had always enjoyed a good riddle. For some reason this one looked promising enough to justify doing some actual work for. Besides, having the artefacts authenticated meant he would be able to get a much better price selling them.

The only thing he had parted with was the (probable) Napoleon coin, the soft gold nibbled almost beyond recognition by the pygmy mummies’ teeth. Another look at it the morning after his resurrection had given him an idea.

Before they left the Medjai camp, Jonathan had obtained from Ardeth a sketch of Nefertiri’s personal cartouche and the address of a talented goldsmith in Cairo; once back in the city, he had wandered down to Kerdasa, the coin and the folded paper safe in the inside pocket of his (whole and clean) jacket.

Just before he reached the little shop, however, he heard a yelp and a startled cry, and was knocked off his feet by something large and hairy. His vision was filled by long camel’s lashes and lips drawn back on long yellow teeth in what Jonathan might have taken as a smile if he hadn’t known better.

Why did every single camel have to have such foul breath, he wondered.

“ʾAhlan1, Djem,” muttered Jonathan with a sigh that was half annoyance, and half amused resignation.

And was astonished when the camel immediately disappeared from view, replaced with a familiar face. Satiah’s big brown eyes went wide when she saw him.

“Oh, it’s you, bāša2. Hello,” she said with a smile.

Jonathan got up and dusted himself off, irritation quickly fading away. The jacket could survive a little dirt; besides, Satiah’s smile as she hung on to Djem’s bit had lost some of its previous shyness. Considering how fearful she had been the last time – and who could fault her for that, really – it almost made getting knocked over by a foul-smelling bag of hair and wind worth it.

“Good morning, Miss Satiah,” he said in Arabic, picking up his hat from the ground so he could salute her with a flourish. Her hand flew to her mouth to hide a giggle. “It’s a stroke of luck finding you, really. I wanted to thank you for your help the other day, and for, er…”

He reached his limits of the language, and finished in English, “I mean, thank you for returning my wallet to my sister. That was very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Satiah said in Arabic, her cheekbones a little pink. “I’m glad you and your friends got away from those men.”

Jonathan’s smile slipped a notch or two, but he rallied quickly enough.

“Yes,” he said just a little wryly, “we did, at that. In the end.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve just reached my destination,” he added, pointing to a door above which hung a sign saying something about gold in painted Arabic script, “so I’m going to wish you a—”

“You’re going to see Cousin Ashar?” Satiah interrupted, her eyes shining. Immediately afterwards she clamped both hands on her mouth and cringed. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. Small world, eh?”

She gave a small smile and led the way into the shop, stopping only to tie Djem to a post.

Ashar – the goldsmith Ardeth had recommended – was a tall, wiry man with a long face, his hair going grey at the temples. He welcomed Satiah warmly and sent her to the backroom to get what she came for. Before she closed the door, she gave Jonathan a little friendly wave, which he returned with a smile. Ashar gave him an odd but not hostile look, eyebrows raised.

Jonathan placed his order, left the coin, and was about to leave, when Ashar called him back, frowning slightly.

“You’re one of the O’Connells, aren’t you.”

Jonathan’s mouth opened and closed as though of its own accord.

“You could say that, yes,” he said finally. “Why?”

“Because word of the second raising of Anubis’ Army made it to Cairo recently.”

This time Jonathan’s mouth dropped open and remained like that for a handful of seconds. Ashar gave something that was almost a smile.

“Not all of us wear the ritual tattoos, you know.”

“I do know,” Jonathan articulated with only the slightest difficulty. Dr Hakim was a Medjai, and his face was devoid of any tattoo as well. Dr Bey had been the same, now that he thought of it. His gaze went to the door that led to the backroom. “Satiah, too…?”

“Yes. But her mother’s family has lived in Cairo for fifty years. The girl has never seen the desert. She will get good schooling and find a trade, inshallah3. The time for living legends is coming to an end.” Ashar looked at the cartouche Ardeth had drawn for reference. “I know what this says. Who the name belonged to. Your commission is either a hollow trinket or a great gift.”

Jonathan drew himself up and said, as dignified as he could, “I’m rather hoping for the latter.”

His own signet ring had been gambled and lost in some card game or another, years ago. His parents would have been so disappointed had they still been alive. The least he could do was make sure his sister had a ring of her own, one that paid tribute to the woman she was and the woman she had been, three millennia ago.

Evy’s reaction when she opened his present proved him right, and even surprised him.

She stared into the box long enough for Jonathan’s brain to go into overdrive. Her silence made him panic ever so slightly. Then she looked up at him, her eyes very bright, lower lip trembling.

Jonathan barely suppressed the need to shuffle like a schoolboy and buried his hands into his pockets, hoping his face didn’t give too much away.

“I know I wasn’t… there – or, you know – then,” he said, almost sheepishly. “But I thought… Well. I hoped you’d like it. The cartouche must be right, I got it from Ardeth, and the goldsmith was a bloody good artist, as it turned out, but—”

Evy cut him off by launching herself at him and flinging her arms around his neck, throwing him off balance. As usual, Jonathan stumbled, but managed to catch her in the end.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered into his neck. “Thank you, Jon.”

If his smile was a little wobbly, his eyes a little moist, nobody seemed to notice. Rick and Alex had picked up the little box; Rick’s face lit up in strange recognition, while Alex deciphered the cartouche slowly and grinned.

“Nice one, Uncle Jon. That’s a pretty good present.”

“Yes, about that,” said Jonathan irrepressibly while Evy broke away and wiped her eyes, “I hope you realise that this is the last birthday present you’ll ever get from me, old mum. Since – judging by your reaction – nothing I could give to you could ever top this, I have decided to simply refrain from trying.”

Evy had slapped his arm and called him an idiot with a big smile, then hugged him again. And he had hugged her back, just because he was alive and able to.

The ring hadn’t left her finger since.

“Jon?”

Jonathan was abruptly pulled back to the present, the Stars and Crown, and Tom’s curious smile across the table.

“Hm?”

“You were a thousand miles away.”

“Sorry about that. What about you and Lizzie? Dorset been treating you well, I hope?”

Tom shook his head with a smile.

“It has, sort of, but we’re moving to Oxford. Did Liz tell you she’d been replaced while she was gone?”

Jonathan nodded. Lizzie disappearing for two weeks had not gone unnoticed in her little town, but since the police didn’t have the beginning of a clue and nobody was able to reach Tom, they had moved on to other things and her boss at the telephone exchange had hired someone else. There had been a subtle but definite irony in Lizzie’s letter as she described her and Tom’s return and the scrutiny they’d had to stand up to in order to prove her husband hadn’t killed her and stashed her body away – or vice versa – before his former Chamber of Horus hierarchy stepped in to explain things.

“Well, they needed an operator at the exchange on Pembroke Street. And you know the interview I had this morning at Whitehall? I won’t be too far, as it turns out.” Tom took a deep breath, then said with one of the goofiest smiles Jonathan had ever seen on his face, “I’ll be workin’ from the Bodleian.”

This could only mean one thing. Jonathan grinned.

“The British Antique Research Department accepted your application, didn’t they? Congratulations, old chap. That’s fantastic.”

He downed a mouthful of his G&T and laid an elbow on the table, his chin in his hand.

“Haven’t been to Oxford in almost fifteen years,” he said thoughtfully. “Not since Evy finished her degree. I wonder if the city’s changed.”

“It’s Oxford,” said Tom quietly, looking like his mind was straying down the same path Jonathan’s thoughts were. “I can’t imagine it’ll ever change that much.”

Jonathan smiled quickly into his palm. Then he raised his glass.

“To the two of you, then. And to publicans hopefully not holding grudges, otherwise we’re still banned from half the pubs in Oxfordshire.”

Tom snorted and raised his own glass, now almost empty. “To the three of us, and testing that theory sometime. And let’s not wait two decades this time,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

The two glasses clinked.

For just a second, the decades fell away, and Jonathan was twenty years younger.

Lizzie was already waiting for them on the platform by the time they finished their drinks and walked back to Paddington. She carried a shopping bag that looked entirely too small compared to what should be expected of a woman who’d just spent a few hours in the old metropolis. Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you say you planned to go to Harrods while we were in London?”

“I also said I only needed a new suit and the latest Agatha Christie novel,” she said, light teasing in her tone. “The next one will be out sometime in November, I think. Have you heard what the title will be? Death on the Nile, of all things.”

Jonathan gave a mock shudder. “I might just give this one a miss, then.”

The train’s whistle pierced the air, cutting the rest of the conversation short. Tom picked up his wife’s bag and Lizzie turned to Jonathan with a smile.

“Goodbye, Jonathan,” she said softly.

The use of his first name had always been a signal that the game was paused and the masks were off, as clear as a referee blowing halftime. Jonathan answered in kind, his throat just a little tight.

“Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

They hadn’t even actually said ‘goodbye’ last time. They had just stood there, she leaning out the train window in her brand-new nurse’s uniform, he and Tommy on the platform amidst the soot, the steam, and the throng of people, until the train departed. The memory was an old hurt that still twinged sometimes, like his left shoulder when the weather was bad.

He cleared his throat and smiled.

“See you on the next Christie novel, then?”

What Lizzie did next might have shocked twenty year old Jonathan, who thought he knew her well, and as such very much surprised his current self, who had a little too much experience of the world to truly get shocked anymore. She took his hands in hers, flying in the face of propriety and what had been her rules of conduct in public, and kissed him on the cheek near the corner of his mouth with an aching sweetness. The old Lizzie, so shy and unsure of her self-worth that she was terrified of what people may think, would have been appalled.

It had taken a while for Jonathan to truly grasp how much the years had changed Tommy and start thinking of him as ‘Tom’ to account for that change. Through this apparently simple gesture – simple only to someone who didn’t know Elizabeth Ferguson, née McAllister – Lizzie became ‘Liz’ in an instant.

“I can’t bear to think you died,” she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “When I think… Without that – that book…”

She took a deep breath. Tom caught Jonathan’s eye and gave a small nod. Of course he had told her. Knowing Liz, she’d take the secret to her grave anyway.

“Take care of yourself, Jonathan, please. The world would be so dreadfully dull without you in it,” she added with a tentative smile, to which he replied with a smile of his own, one that hopefully looked steadier.

“Likewise.”

Her hands tightened around his. Just for a second or two, he softly ran his thumb on the back of her hand, an echo of the old intimacy that used to bind them; then their gazes fell away, their hands separated, and the moment was over.

Tom held out his hand with a smile, and Jonathan’s mind was whisked back to that sunny afternoon in Cairo, almost two months ago, and a chance encounter that had reshuffled the cards in a major way. Tom’s handshake was slower this time, steadier, warmer.

“Bye, Jon.”

“Cheers, Tom,” said Jonathan, determined but failing to swallow the lump in his throat. “Have a pint at the Oxford Arms for me.”

Tom nodded, and added his left hand to the handshake, not saying anything. He didn’t need to. As usual – almost – everything he meant to say was on his face and in his eyes for the world to see.

The train let out a burst of steam. Tom hastily let go and made for the train door, stopping only to help Liz aboard. Jonathan looked wistfully at the train for a minute and was about to turn around and go home when he heard his name being called over the din of the locomotive and the running gears chugging into motion.

Tom and Liz were leaning out of a window, wearing identical wide smiles. Liz was waving, her other arm wrapped tightly around her husband. The light in her eyes and her curly hair whipping around her face made her look like the girl from Jonathan’s memories.

“Send my love to Evelyn!” she called. “And say hello to your brother-in-law for me! You’re all welcome anytime for tea!”

“I’ll make sure they know!” shouted Jonathan as the train gathered speed.

The blatant disregard of platform etiquette made several passers-by turn and stare at him with a touch of glower. Jonathan ignored them and kept his eyes on the departing train. Tom’s and Liz’s beaming smiles remained in his head a long time after they had gone back inside the carriage.

He would see them again. This time he was determined not to leave the possibility of a reunion to chance and the vagaries of life. They had been through too much – both twenty years and two months ago – to just go their separate ways.

Besides, Jonathan mused as he left Paddington behind to wade through the bustling streets, he still had some research to do before he set out to sell the objects he had found at Ahm Shere. The Bodleian Library was as good as the British Library; at least he didn’t risk meeting Evy there and being subjected to her prodding curiosity, which he wasn’t ready to face yet. At least not before he unravelled the mystery of the little gemstone. It looked like an emerald and felt vaguely familiar, as though he had seen it somewhere or heard a story about it.

This required some investigation, if only to be prudent.

After all, he was particularly well placed to know that you can only go so far on fairy tales and hokum alone.

THE END

.⅋.

1(أَهْلًا): informal “hello”, “hi”.

2باشا (bāša): “sir”, “mister” in Egyptian Arabic.

3ʾin šāʾa llāhu, (إِنْ شَاءَ ٱللَّٰهُ‎) – literally “if God has willed it”, “God willing”

Don’t look for the Stars and Crown in Paddington, or the Oxford Arms in Oxford. Unlike the Turf Tavern they’re entirely fictional.

Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile was indeed published on 1st November 1937. I couldn’t resist, I mean, come on ;o)

The Bodleian Library is the main research library in Oxford and one of the oldest in Europe.

If you’re wondering, yes, that little gemstone might be the basis for a sequel of sorts, but I haven’t really started to plot it. Considering my track record for these things you might see that story sometime in the next decade and a half :P

Writing and publishing Fairy Tales and Hokum has been such an adventure. I was 21 when I started writing it; now I’ll be 38 in four days. Much as I miss the old crowd of 2003-2006, reposting and updating the story here on AO3 allowed me to know some awesome people. I’m so glad these characters somehow – FINALLY – sneaked back into my head and my heart again with their quirks, their (updated) backstories, and their voices and allowed me to finish this story the way I wanted to. Like I’ve said before, whenever you started reading this, I hope you had a good time now that you’ve reached the end. If you’ve read and left a signed comment – if you’ve read and left an anonymous comment – if you’ve read and left no comment at all – know that I wrote this for you and I hope some of it made you smile.

Take care of yourselves, love you all, and see you on the next fic? :o)

[zaidshair]

Zaid truly wasn't sure what Hye-Jin was doing, with her visual assessment. He didn't know, because it wasn't often he was given so much personal attention from anyone but himself (in Zaid's heavily biased opinion, anyway). He couldn't tell what Hye-Jin was doing, but he couldn't deny it felt lovely. The closest thing he'd get to cocaine high, on this bloody island.

But then also, a bit of vanity-related concern. "Do I look alright?" Zaid asked, looking down at himself as well. "No buboes or open sores or nothing, right?"

Jeju. Zaid had always dreamed of a proper vacation to South Korea one day, him and Tej and Inika. A pipe dream then, as much as it was now. "I'll save the flattery for when you least expect it," he decided aloud, adding another playful bead on their teasing thread. "What's that called? Shock value."

Hye-Jin volunteered a highlight of Jeju for him, and wove Jeju's features into this place, like a narrator on a nature program. But with a distinct touch of personal familiarity, in the tender lilt of her voice. He mused aloud: "Britain's an island too. Useless comparison to here, though." He pointed up towards the top of the volcano. A slight wisp of blue smoke lazily curled from it. "Inshallah that doesn't do the same as me one day. You don't have any insight on eruptions, do you. Aside from your adventure film."

An appreciative huff of amusement, as Hye-Jin rather amicably ran with his silly analogies. Comparisons to gods; well. Zaid didn't think Hye-Jin would mind that so much. And by their response, invoking Ares, she was willing to play along for now. Zaid only kept his bracelet off for a few seconds, before slipping it back on his wrist. He got too antsy, keeping it off for too long.

They made a good point, about Maria and her bloody bracelet. Zaid didn't want to think about Maria anymore; he just wanted to focus on Hye-Jin, here, with him. Her pale, straight finger pressing black sand into her other palm. "You saved me," he said outloud, as if trying out the sentence to see how it felt.

When the seaweed slid away, Zaid missed the feel - what he now interpreted as a friendly touch, sleek and cool as Hye-Jin themselves. Zaid sat up to sigh, then stood up to stretch. Fingers flexing, arms raised and folded over his head as he looked out over the horizon. "Does it make you tired, or...energized, to be Demeter? After I, erm, explode, I feel like I can take on the world. But also like I could sleep for a million years."

Closeness, and distance, between each other, it could be said this was part of the magnetism towards Zaid as well. Their heated observation of him, scans for injuries as though they were a doctor, when in reality, they only knew the basics of cuts and bruises and their shapes. This, they couldn't help. It didn't happen often, these urges which couldn't be helped, but when they did, it had happened thrice in front of this particular chef. The first time, long ago, when his fanboying had been as eloquent and subtle as it was now, accent slipping, excitement evident. Who out there could say that many made any kind of first impression upon Hye-Jin?

Though his recollection of her interviews embarrassed her. For there were no actual film cameras to hide behind, when it came to these things being shared. Seedlings thus planted, and splotches of what she would blame on exertion much later against her cheeks. "Jeju," she repeated, because it was correct. Reclining there, and if she closed her eyes for long enough, the scenery might resonate the same. Deciduous forests, with different foliage, with masquerading animals. "If you want try out the flattery and see if it works, I won't be stopping you." Could be actual invitation. Or it could be another method of — sharing? Space, details, feelings.

"Jeju both somehow looks like this, and yet not at all. You'd think every island has the same look, but they're different. In how they're shaped, in what depths there are. Some have no tide pools nor volcanoes; others are uninhabitable due to those and more. Sand or tar pits. Random sinkholes." To come upon a sinkhole in what was the midst of an island, already in the ocean, seemed counterintuitive. But in her travels, such a sinkhole had been one of her daring tours whilst filming a show. The exclamation, instead of the cheeky remark, made her jump. Almost out of her skin. A glance towards the seaweed. "Water? No. I can't."

Hesitation appeared. For all intents and purposes, there was no reason she shouldn't trust Zaid. She wasn't particularly shy, oddly enough, with the concept of sharing it with him, especially since he also had a power, and his was much worse off. But the bubbling of — well, it was green. Green as shame, and nausea. At being known. It was ironic, really. It baffled her. A shake of the head. Most definitely not trading.

"It would be less Poseidon and more Demeter." She would have said Gaia, but wished to keep it in the same pantheon. Comparison might be a good middle ground for being open. "And you have somehow skipped, and gone straight to Ares. The bracelet might have fallen where we couldn't see it. I personally don't want to know what ticking time clocks await nor where it has gone. Or if it went with her." To be imploding upon one's self, Hye-Jin understood. She had been there, moments before she awakened here, and this began. "Keep your Ares war self, Zaid, it's a good look on you, but a disaster on me."

The algae receded as her heart-rate calmed, pulse fluttering. Able to breathe, and to swallow. One hand absentmindedly fisted in the sand, dredging up the obsidian granules, pressing them roughly against her palm. She felt as though much would be a disaster on her, in her current state. One step away from nervosa.

[petitewishes]

I know you moved on from me now but I still think about you often. I miss how well you treated me dearly. You were such an angel. The one I really took for granted. The thing is I knew, I knew everything about you was perfect. I had come from a toxic family with conditional love, you had come from a family with broken love. But you loved me immensely and it showed. You taught me everything I didn’t learn when you held my hand a certain way and rubbed it with your thumb I had no idea what that was but it was so cute. The memories we made for 10 months I could never forget. You see, 5 years later I still think about you because when we ended I had started talking to “A” for two years. I replaced the void of losing you. Then A left and I realized I never healed. I know your new girlfriend treats you so good fk. You’re going to hit 2 years on September 25th.. a day after my birthday. I was so happy when she made you a diy box birthday gift. You deserved that and more. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to go. I had sacrificed are love for Allah and I’m so happy u got her. But I’m still alone. Allah showed me how haram relationships hurt and why they’re haram in the first place. You moved on so fast ... I’m still waiting for someone. I pray I pray my husband will be like you. I am emotional because I listened to two one direction songs that was our songs. I don’t know what to say anymore. I hope I did the right thing by letting him go. He even tried to convert for me. :( on my wedding day I’ll look into the crowd and I’d imagine you all the way in the back smiling back at me. I remember how bad we ended and how I made it worse and dramatic. I could not let you go. I used to text you out of no where a lot every time you would tell me the same thing. Let it go. I stopped texting him when I got sad last year sometime early 2019. I still see him at my same university I guess that’s my guilty pleasure. But yeah I’d look for you in the crowd and I’d smile back at u because after all the shit I had put us through I had finally let you fully go. Allah will reward me won’t he? It was so hard fk. I couldn’t control my emotions and you dealt with the episodes so well. I’m not crazy. It was just 10 months. But we were friends for two years before that. And kept in touch because of my emotions for a whole other year. Basically 4 years plus all these years of college I still see you around. I don’t know what this is.. an I miss you post ? Or I’m sorry post ? I know he doesn’t care anymore. I know he just wants me to move on and be happy. I cannot wait to announce an engagement on instagram, I know his sister, his cousins, and his girlfriend, and friends will see it. I just KNOW he would get text messages at the same time( maybe even a call) saying RIS FUCKING ENGAGED. Inshallah you would then say wow I hope they’re happy. I know he would. I’m so proud I haven’t bothered you again and it’s been about a year. Corona makes it hard but it’s okay. I know it was meant to end. I know i didn’t make a mistake. He’s happy without me for a reason. Sigh... frank. This is goodbye. #thefinalletter #perfect #trulymadlydeeply

7/23/20 ..💔🖤🤍 4 a.m

[sassypandacandy]

Happy Valentine’s Day from the After/Effects crew!

In honor of those celebrating Valentine’s Day, here’s one of the rare fluff scenes from the Day Out of Time universe!

Fahd always felt the countdown to the Day Out of Time as a faint hum in the back of his mind, but for Mia it seemed to buzz in her very bones. She tapped her toes without noticing and drummed on the closest surface with whatever was in her hands.

“Maybe I shouldn't have caffeinated you,” Fahd remarked from his bed. He set his book down and watched Mia's back as she sat at his desk, ostensibly playing an online game but really keeping time with her free hand.

“I'm fine,” she muttered, firing digital arrows at a troll.

“How many raids have you done in the last hour?”

“Psh.” Mia looted the troll's body and moved on. “Four.”

Fahd sank back onto the pillows with a sigh. “You're going to wire yourself up until you never get to sleep.”

“It's therapeutic. I'm a lot calmer than I was an hour ago.”

He was quiet for a minute. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

On screen, a minor boss died. “Kinda.”

“You're with a good group. Opal will take care of you, inshallah.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“I mean—” Fahd took a deep breath and tried again. “They'll help you. If you need it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Come lay down,” he said.

The music changed as Mia entered the final boss's chamber. “In a minute.”

Fahd rolled out of bed and padded over to the desk in just his boxers. Mia's character wasafemale elf in a black metal bikini who was kicking some serious ass.

“I love to find the skankiest armor I can,” she murmured, still absorbed in the colorful slaughter. “It's usuallythe highest ranked anyway.”

“Mm-hm.” Leaning over, Fahd pulled back the collar of the shirt that she wore—his shirt, discarded some hours earlier when they first arrived—and kissed the freckled skin where her shoulder met her neck. Mia inhaled sharply through her nose, and her scantily dressed elf took an unexpected hit.

“You're blowing my concentration,” she whispered as his mouth continued to explore the sensitive areas.

He moved up to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Stop me anytime you like.”

Without any further argument, Mia logged out of the game and turned around. She latched onto Fahd's neck and pulled herself up. He responded by lifting her until she could wrap her legs around his waist, never breaking contact with her mouth for more than a split second. Before his hands could settle comfortably under her rear, the puckered scar on his hip twinged.

Mia felt his wince and pulled back immediately. “Put me down,” she said.

“It's fine.”

“No, it's not. Put me down.”

Sighing, Fahd turned and set her down on the bed. She tugged the top of his boxers down over his left hipbone, exposing a puckered white circle the size of a dime. “Did you just move weird?”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a hand over the top of her thick curls. “Hey—I'm really okay.”

Mia pulled her legs up and rolled over to make room for him on the bed. “You shouldn't pick me up if it's going to hurt you.”

“Mia, my pack weighs more than you do.”

She lifted her arm as he slid in beside her and tucked it against his side. “Much as I always like to hear that, I'm serious.”

“I know,” Fahd said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. The hum faded even further into the back of his mind as he pulled her against his chest with the ease of practice. He breathed in the smell of her hair, and tension that he hadn't even noticed leaked out of his muscles in a rush.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He felt her smile against his chest. “That sounds like a personal problem.”

Fahd reached down and tickled her, and she squirmed away with a laugh. “No,don't, I love you too, I promise. I promise.”She settled back into his embrace, this time with one hand curled in the hair on his chest. “Are youworried about tomorrow?” she asked softly.

Fahd tightened his grip. “Yeah. Anything can happen.”

“Part of me wishes we were on the same team again,” Mia said, brushing her fingers back and forth. “I don't like the idea of you going off without me to watch your back.”

“I don't like it either, but I think it'd be worse if we were together. I wouldn't be able to concentrate.”

Mia reached up and nipped the bottom of his neck. “Me neither.”

Laughing, Fahd ran his hand down her arm and said, “That's not what I meant.”

“I know, I know. You're no fun.”

Fahd pushed her shoulder against the bed and rolled over until he was on top of her. “No fun?” he asked, enjoying the way her breathing quickened.

“Okay,” Mia admitted. “Maybe you're a little fun. Just a little.”

Fahd leaned down and kissed her, inhaling her little moans and sighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck again. He loved this soft time, when they were both safe and pressed close to each other's hearts.

There would be time for worry later.

[yourcaptainsmi]

The Dead Trail

I was freezing. Sitting on the snow under a huge pine tree in my big olive green coat, my mittens, thick jeans and boots, the furred yellow hoodie tight around my face gave no chance for a side glance. Still I was freezing.

And there he was, Emery, my odd so called friend, a little down to my right, sitting crossed-legged and resting his elbows on his thighs. He was wearing a blue sleeveless t-shirt and black fitting pants with holes for the knees for cry out loud! His black hair fell like needles over his clear gray eyes. He was so pale and skinny staring ahead so quietly I’m sure the wild animals will mistake him for another fixed part of nature.

Right now looking at him made me feel colder and I didn’t like it one bit.

I began to shiver, rubbing my arms then my hands, scolding myself for the hundredth time for not taking those body heat management lessons in school.

I was afraid of talking less my saliva freezes but I had no other choice.

“So!” I asked between my chattering teeth. “Wh...what now?”

“Now we wait.”

“That’s it?”

He finally looked at me, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Does he even feel sorry for the ah-so-obviously cold little girl?

“I tell you what.”I made up my mind, scrambling to my feet, then quickly jogging in my place to warm myself a little. He slowly stood up looking at me, expectantly.

“We leave this mini-cam here,” I said jamming my hand inside my pocket, “it can watch the road while we return to our nice warm homeland.” I took out a pink beetle and positioned it on the palm of my hand, two seconds and it opened its wings and hovered a little. From my other pocket I pulled out my cell phone.

“Hey Tal!”

“Hey Siba!” my phone answered back in a happy little six year old girl’s voice, “I just released JJ to the world, can you please link to it?”

“Ay Ay Siba! Just a sec...aaand linking complete!”

“Thanks Tal I’ll take it from here.”

“Siba!” squeaked Tal.

I jumped.

“Ah! Why do you always...WHAT?”

“Is Emery with you?” I sighed, “yes Tal he’s with me.” I pointed the screen at his face and he waved, “Hi Emery!” Tal’s voice was almost awe struck, I rolled my eyes.

“Hi Tal!” answered Emery so politely it made me squirm.

“Bye Tal!” I said through my teeth directly to the speaker in the phone knowing she won’t respond with any more semi-human reactions to that tone.

I operated JJ to head for a high branch on the tree we’re standing under. Emery moved closer to look at the screen. “You know?” I said, “It escapes me why you’re always nice to machines and completely rude to people.”

“People are overrated,” he mumbled.

“Ya don’t say?” I mumbled back.

I tweaked a little with JJ’s vision until I got the angle I wanted.

“Bingo!” I put my phone back into my pocket, “now,” I said to Emery’s disinterested face “follow me.”

All around us the world was white. We were up a hill, on the outskirts of a forest and I wanted nothing but to flee this place, I descended rather quickly and tripped, “Ugh!”

I rolled my body to ready it for the humiliating fall all the way down. Emery was by my side in a second and straightened me up rather roughly by my right arm.

“Ah!” that’s gonna hurt later I thought, “thanks.”

Together we walked down till we got to a road, I crossed it towards an ice arch in the middle of nowhere. It was beautiful, quite different from the ones I’m used to see at home. The big arch was made of transparent ice, like glass, it starts narrow on the right then grows wider as it completes a shape of two thirds of a circle. A teleportation gate or a T.G as everyone calls it.

“Anything?” I asked him pointing to the right, he was already eye checking the end of the road, it showed no movement, a dead trail.

“Nothing.”

I stopped at the touch screen on the right side of the T.G.

“What?!” Emery was giving me the look.

“I still can’t believe they let kids do this.”

“That,” I said a matter of factly, “is what you get when you are a citizen of the greatest country in the world.”

“Show off.”

“Yeah.”

And begrudgingly I took out my mitten and spread my right palm on it, it glowed green.

“Define your destination!” a soothing female voice said.

I stood in the middle of the T.G with my companion on my left.

“Thirty, fifth D.”

“Confirmation required.”

“Confirm!” I shouted.

A strong yellow light covered the whole inside area of the T.G. There was this tingling feeling in my whole body, like an electric buzz then an elevation sensation, it all took 6 seconds and the light subsided gradually to a warm savanna land.

“Ah! Thank GOD!” I exclaimed, stepping out of the copper colored T.G and breathing in some fresh air. I remembered something,

“Hey, do I,” pulling my other mitten “do I look like a sunflower to you? You know” I draw a circle around my face with my finger, “the yellow fur and brown face and all?”

He looked down at me for a little longer than it is comfortable then narrowing his eyes he asked.

“Is this a trick question?”

“Um...no?”

“Well then yes.” he took his eyes off me, “you do look like a sunflower.”

I groaned pulling my hoodie down, my little sister will laugh at this for three days straight, if only I did not send her that selfie earlier. Stupid, stupid!

“I like sunflowers.” Emery said simply.

“Excuse me? Is that you being nice to people?” I smiled at him, a bit surprised. “I thought people were over rated.”

He shrugged.

The sun was setting into the far horizon in a beautiful scene that I rarely get to see in the city. In front of the T.G -that was decorated with vines and leaves made from the same metal- was a street that cut the vast land to two halves. Everywhere you look you find small poor bushes and Acacia trees dotting the whole area. Those weren’t great and tall trees like the pines but short and spreading their branches horizontally. It was their special way to survive the scorching sun during the day.

A small bench was located near the T.G. It was identical to it in design, copper colored with vines as hands. We sat on it, I took out my phone and together we watched the area we were just at on a completely different continent, snow was falling now.

“Ya Habibi!” I sighed, “If the image becomes hard to see we need to get back there or we’ll miss them.”

True I’m not all that keen on returning to that freezer so quickly but the mission was far more important than my temperature issues. Emery on the other hand wasn’t worried at all, spreading his arms on the back of the bench, slowly the sides of his mouth went up, until he completed a full smile that wrinkled the sides of his eyes, the first time I saw this expression I was certain my death will follow but here we are.

“No worries,” he said, “it won’t take long now.”

I lowered my eyes to the screen and the snow falling on the top of the hill. He’s expecting blood, but if I do my job well, inshallah, there won’t be any today.

by Haneen Ibrahim

[quranreadalong]

#102, Surah 18

THE QURAN READ-ALONG: DAY 102

Let’s look at the first two ayat of the day before I say anything else. Allah instructs Mohammed in 18:23-24:

And say not of anything: Lo! I shall do that tomorrow, Except if Allah will. And remember thy Lord when thou forgettest, and say: It may be that my Lord guideth me unto a nearer way of truth than this.

Please allow me to explain. After the rabbis’ questions were posed to Mohammed, he said he’d answer them the next day. But there was a problem. Ibn Kathir:

The Messenger of Allah said, «أُخْبِرُكُمْ غَدًا عَمَّا سَأَلْتُمْ عَنْه» (I will tell you tomorrow about what you have asked me.) but he did not say `If Allah wills.' So they went away, and the Messenger of Allah stayed for fifteen days without any revelation from Allah concerning that, and Jibril, peace be upon him, did not come to him either. The people of Makkah started to doubt him, and said, `Muhammad promised to tell us the next day, and now fifteen days have gone by and he has not told us anything in response to the questions we asked.'

After he promises to get right on the task of answering those questions, Mohammed behaves like a procrastinating and chronically depressed college senior faced with three final papers and waits fifteen days before answering them (and one of the three answers was “lol idk”). His excuse? He didn’t say inshallah (if Allah wills it) and made Allah mad. So Allah punished him by making him wait over two weeks to get an answer... to the three basic questions... that could have been answered by simply speaking to someone who was aware of these well-known Syrian stories.

What was he doing in those two weeks? Wracking his brain for the stories? Trying to make sure he was remembering the details of them correctly? Asking someone who might know? Consulting some source? What? We have no idea, but somehow I doubt “oh I forgot to say I’ll answer if Allah lets me” is the real explanation...

Naturally, the polytheists laughed at Mohammed’s nonsense because they were evildoers, while his followers believed it. So the lesson of this story is that you should never say “I’ll do this tomorrow” without adding “...inshallah” at the end. “I’ll write this paper for my anatomy class, inshallah. Otherwise it might take a couple weeks sry.” Good save as per usual, Mo.

In a sahih hadith, he dragged poor Solomon into this mess:

The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Solomon (the son of) David said, 'Tonight I will sleep with seventy ladies each of whom will conceive a child who will be a knight fighting for "Allah's Cause.' His companion said, 'If Allah will.' But Solomon did not say so; therefore none of those women got pregnant except one who gave birth to a half child." The Prophet (ﷺ) further said, "If the Prophet (ﷺ) Solomon had said it (i.e. 'If Allah will') he would have begotten children who would have fought in Allah's Cause."

...sigh. Anyway, Mohammed adds a couple more details about the story of the seven sleepers, saying that they were in the cave for around 300 years (the Christian story says 200 but who cares), but only Allah knows exactly how long, and Allah is god etc and people should pray to him. Whatever. This section has been extraordinarily dumb even by Mohammed’s standards, but still neutral. The next one, however, is bad and contains some exciting new hell imagery. 18:29:

We have prepared for disbelievers Fire. Its tent encloseth them. If they ask for showers [other translations: “if they ask for relief”], they will be showered with water like to molten lead which burneth the faces. Calamitous the drink and ill the resting-place! 

Kuffar hell counter: 1, but the more notable thing here is the description of hell. I don’t believe we’ve seen this particular description before. In addition to being forced to drink terrible water, apparently it’ll also be dumped on you. Sure!

The next ayah is a good Muslims go to jannah/will be rewarded one, so I’ll put that one down as good to balance out the less pleasant one above. Now... in addition to the new hell imagery in 18:29, we also have some new heaven imagery in 18:31:

therein they will be given armlets of gold and will wear green robes of finest silk and gold embroidery, reclining upon throne therein

This is the first time we’ve seen the green silk robes and gold bracelets thing, right? Allah makes sure the residents of jannah look fly 24/7.

Anyway, that’s neutral. Following that is a metaphor about two gardeners, each of whom has a garden of grapevines, with a river in the middle of them. One guy says to the other, “mine’s better than yours! My garden is awesome and will last forever!” He is arrogant because he is a disbeliever! Mohammed’s metaphors are as subtle and artful as ever.

The other guy is a pious believer, and chastises his arrogant neighbor for disbelieving and for not saying “mashallah la quwwata illa billah” (Allah wills it, there is no power but from Allah), which is a tie-in to the inshallah debacle at the start of this section. The pious gardener says that one day Allah may destroy their gardens, or take away the river, or something.

That warning comes true when one day the disbeliever’s garden is ruined. “If only I hadn’t been a polytheist!”, he wails. “Clearly Allah is the only real god!” Yes indeed, Mohammed agrees.

...man, just say “polytheism is bad!! Stop being polytheists!!” and save us some effort next time, please. It’s neutral, I guess? The implication is obviously that the works of polytheists are wasted and they will be destroyed by Allah etc, but it’s not as violent in metaphor form.

Let’s see... we’ll finish up the day with these next few ayat. The life of the world is temporary, but good deeds get you to jannah, which is forever (good!). The world will end and people will then be judged, at which point the guilty people will be real nervous.

Well, fair enough. This section was a bit irritating between the inshallah incident and the gardener metaphor, but the next one returns us to our favorite subject...

NEXT TIME: Doom, doom, doom... oh, and Iblis (again).

The Quran Read-Along: Day 102

Ayat: 27

Good: 2 (18:30, 18:46)

Neutral: 24 (18:23-28, 18:31-45, 18:47-49)

Bad: 1 (18:29)

Kuffar hell counter: 1 (18:29)

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

[toinfinityandbeyond27]

Replies to your post: I miss you too love , we just have to keep reminding ourselves that this is for the greater good and so that InshAllah we will end up together in the end. I can’t wait to see what our future holds together. AHHHH look at you starting the day off right with some recitation... I don't believe I have heard of that reciter, but I will definitely listen to see, Allah yerhamo. AWWWWWWW omg omg I can't imagine how cute you looked running around with a lil clipboard AHHH!!! YESSSS what a power move.. making it a point to introduce yourself and show them that you have a lil plan going on... UGH I’m so proud of you, I’m sure you impressed the hell out of them. p.s. ima reply to the video posts by adding a note My day: Today was a little hectic, I was basically in school from 8 AM to 4 PM... and since I didn’t sleep the best I completely passed out in chemistry which is the one class that needs my full attention. But its okay because I’m gonna try to make it a point to fix my sleep schedule now..*sigh* I have no reason to stay up now anyway:(... I really do miss you love bug but I know this is for the better. The HIGHLIGHT of my day was definitely our 5 minute and 14 second call.. even tho it was such a short period it felt like such a recharge just to hear your voice...my friends were looking at me crazy tho cuz they’ve never seen me light up while talking to somebody like that. OH YEAH LMAO I was at a taco spot when you called, and then after that we went and grabbed some ice cream and jammed out to some music, it was good Alhamdulillah! I’m so excited to see your skippy lil self tomorrow InshaAllah, you’ve been living rent free in my head all day so at least tomorrow you will actually make an appearance outside of there.. I mithhh you, and I love you habibi. -The peanut butter who is nothing without her chocolate ;)

[screwedsirens]

Wow I know I’m going through it because I’m back on this very very old blog. Sigh. It’s 2020 need I say more? My mom is COVID positive and it’s stressing me out in every single way. My dad went to Som*lia and I have no idea what happened to that nigga. Like, he usually always calls but he’s been mute for a while and I’m worried. I’m also taking classes and have two exams in a week. I’m beyond stressed and yes I’m freaking out. Also this is the most sober I’ve been in months (a whoppin 4 days weed free). My friend offered to drop off weed to my house and idk what annoyed me more. Her even offering to do that when I want to be sober or me saying yes to my urges and her not coming through. Like what was the reason. I cried in the shower so that made me feel better but I still feel like shit. Sigh. I feel like certain people I know/love are annoyed by my prescense (I have a gut feeling). This one specific person hasn’t talked to me directly in a really long time and I just find that so weird. Like yeah we’re busy people, but I watch them talk to other people but not me. Maybe I’m crazy. Oh well! I know I’m pmsing but I also feel all of this deeply. I’m sad wallahi. I hope this sadness goes away in the morning because I have too much homework to be in my feelings. I hope Allah makes this easier for me. I’m not a good Muslim at all. But I need to turn back, I need Him. I feel like I’m breaking and I need more strength. Inshallah. Anywho, ranting like this makes me feel a tiny bit better.

[sakhihime]

I had a break down last night listening to anime beats (anyone who watches knows how majestic they are so don’t be fake thx) I really just started crying in bed at 4AM and I wasn’t even watching the show (it was bnha) and it made me think over and over again that I wanna make others feel something it just kept repeating and I just kept crying by the end of it I started thinking that I want others to respond to my characters and my comic like that too and inshAllah my creations and stories touch people’s hearts one day may God grant me the permission to succeed sigh

[nothesc]

This idea has been on my mind all day, so I decided to write it to you as a prompt.Could you recreate a situation like the one in the inshallah clip?the new school year has started and one Saturday morning Sana finds herself in kitchen peeling carrots, Yousef enters and offers to help her, only that they start flirting in a very obvious way (because they stand in a different point in their relationship then in clip they're kinda together, or they're almost there).Let me know if you like the idea

Hiii!

Thanks for the prompt!! 

I don’t know if this is exactly what you had in mind but I really hope you like it :D 

———————x—————

“Himom” Sana greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen on Saturdaymorning.

It was October,she had already started her last year of high school but she didn’t have muchto study yet so she decided to go out of her room to spend some time with hermom. It also didn’t hurt the fact that Elias and the boys, including Yousef,were hanging in her living room in that exact moment.

“Hi love”Sana’s mom said with a smile

“What are you doing?” she said as she approached her mom.

Sanasmiled when she realized what her mom was doing, she was peeling not otherthing than a carrot.

“Just making lunch, I think the boys are staying”

“You know…” Sana said hesitantly as she smiled to herself remembering a previous Saturdaymorning “You’re actually peeling that carrot wrong”

“You’re telling me how I’m supposed to peel a carrot?” Mamma Bakkoush asked raising hereyebrows at her

“What? I’m just trying to help…”

“Well, since you’re so willingly to help maybe you can finish this forme while I go to the store to get some ingredients I need” Sana’s mom said as she passed thepeeler to Sana

“Do I have to?” Sana whined

“This is what happens when you try to be smarter than your mom” she said kissing her daughter’scheek tenderly before leaving the room

Sanashook her head and sighed. She took her phone and searched in her playlist fora song, if she had to peel some carrots she might as well do it while listeningto some good music. She found the song she was looking for but before pressingplay she thought about something first. She went to the kitchen’s door andlooked at the living room where the boys were. They were just talking to eachother and laughing and they hadn’t noticed Sana yet.

“Elias”she called her brother with the peeler in one hand and a carrot in the otherone “Uh,mom let me in charge of the food while she’s at the store. I won’t bother youif I listen to some music while I’m at it, right?”

It wasn’tlike she needed permission from her brother to play music. That comment wasmore like an excuse to show a certain boy what she was about to do.

“Sure sis, no problem” Elias said

Sananodded. Her eyes found Yousef’s then, he was already looking at her with hiseyebrows raised. Sana smirked at him and turned around to go back to thekitchen.

She thentook her phone once again and this time she pressed play.

EdSheeran’s voice filled the room as Kiss me started to sound. She played it loudenough so it could be heard from the living room.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” she heard the voice she was waiting for sayingno more than 10 seconds after she played the song

“Huh?”she said looking at Yousef faking confusion “Oh hi Yousef, are you here for adrink?”

“Yeah, I’m here exactly for that” he said biting his lip.

He tooka glass from the cabinet and approached Sana on his way to the fridge. Justlike he had done a few months ago he walked closely behind her, slower than itwas normal.

“You do know that the kitchen is big enough for both of us, right?” Sana said in a low voice as shefelt him a few inches from her back.

“Yeah, I do know that” he whispered standing right behind her.

Sanasmiled to herself and turned around to face him, startled at first by theproximity. She knew he was close but not that close. Yousef noticed the surpriseon her face and quickly took two steps back to give her space.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” he said kind of panicking “I’mso sorry”

“No, no, Yousef, it’s alright.” She said as she took a step towards him “It’sjust your extra side showing”

Sheshrugged and smiled at him to ease the tension. She then turned around andcontinued with her carrot peeling. She heard him chuckle behind her and walkedto the fridge to finally get that drink he was supposed to want.

“So, your mom trusted you enough to peel a carrot all by yourself? Wow,brave” heteased her

“Well, I’ll let you know that I’m the master of peeling carrots now” she said looking at him while stillpeeling the carrot

That, ofcourse, didn’t end well and before she could stop it she cut her finger withthe peeler.

“Ouch!”she yelled as she tossed the peeler and the carrot on the counter and held herthumb with her other hand

“Are you okay?” Yousef asked taking a step towards her in concern

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just a small cut”

“Let me see” he said as he slowly took her hand into his to examine her thumb.

“See, it’s not even bleeding” she said looking up to him

Yousef waslooking back at her while gently brushing her hand with his fingers. He wasstanding so close to her that if she wanted to she could count his eyelashes.

“Eyelashes, Sana? What is wrong with you? Whydoes this dork have that effect on you?” she thought.

She shookher head at herself trying to focus. Yousef did the same as he too had beenlost in Sana’s eyes and cleared his throat before letting go of her hand.

“Okay, Master of peeling carrots, how about you let me help you so youdon’t lose any of your cute little fingers here?” Yousef said taking the peeler andthe carrot and starting his task

“I was doing just fine before you came here and started to distract me”

“Do I make you nervous?” he said trying to put an interesting voice

Sana rolledher eyes and shook her head.

“Come on you have to admit that I’m the real master of peeling carrots” he said as he threw a peel in herdirection

“Eh, I guess you’re alright. At least the kids won’t starve with you,that’s a good thing”

“Ofcourse they won’t, our kids will be perfectly fed”

Sanawidened her eyes at his sentence as Yousef closed his and lowered his head oncehe realized what he had just said.

“Our kids?” she said trying not to laugh at his embarrassment

“I meant…what I wanted to say was…I mean…you know…” he stuttered not daring to look ather

“It’s good to know that they will have a good meal every day.” She said “You’ll have to settle for sixthough, there’s no way I’m having 12”

Youseflooked up at her in shock at first but then his face lit up and he grinnedwidely at her as she did too.

“Six kids it is” he agreed.

————–x————

I hope you’ve liked it!

I’m sorry it’s kind of short

Thanks again for the prompt and thank you all for reading!!♥♥

[stressedoutteenager]

Couldn’t stop talking about you

(I got the prompt of Sana meeting Yousef’s grandmother over FaceTime while he’s still in Turkey twice so here it is)

They've been facetiming every other night since Yousef arrived in Turkey. That was two weeks ago.

Now, Sana is sitting on her bed, her hijab still on, of course, but make-up off.

Now, Yousef is sitting on the balcony of his grandparents' house. It's so hot that he can barely think straight but talking to Sana is something he'll do any time.

"No! Really? Please tell me you didn't!", Sana exclaims and covers her mouth with her free hand.

Yousef smiles brightly and nods slowly. "I didn't do it on purpose! Well, not really. That guy was talking in German which I only know a tiny bit of from school. And when the German-talking dude couldn't explain what he wanted from the seller, he thought my cousin and I could help so we did!"

"No, you can't call that help! You had your fun with that guy's hardship!", Sana retorts and tries to hide how funny it is to her.

Yousef leans back in his chair and shakes his head: "No, he bought what he was there for. And two additional pounds of sugar, so now he can bake a lot of stuff!"

"You're horrible!", Sana exclaims, shaking her head at Yousef. All while trying to hide how much she wants to laugh. The story is hilarious, to be very honest.

Yousef laughs, as well, and waves his hand around while talking: "No, no. My cousin made me do it."

Sana rolls her eyes and even in her dimly lit room he can see that very clearly. Sana mimics him while making fun of him at the same time: "My cousin made me do it. How did he make you do it? Did he force you? No. See, don't blame that poor guy!"

"Hey, you don't even know him. You don't need to defend him!", Yousef answers to that and loves how Sana and him can have teasing conversations without it becoming awkward at any point.

He is so concentrated on Sana, sitting there in her light grey hijab and a big white sweater, looking beautiful even at this time of the day that he doesn't notice the light on the balcony getting switched on. He just used the light coming from inside until now. Compared to the other days they facetimed, this is early. It's only 10 pm.

"Hey, I'm just trying to prevent blame being cast on someone innocent." Sana looks at him all innocently and makes his heart race. After they finally went on a real date, he had to leave the country. Of course, he was excited to see parts of his family that he doesn't during the rest of the year. But he would have been fine leaving a week later.

"Oh, that is what this is..", Yousef say but gets interrupted in the middle of the sentence.

"Yousef?", Sana hears him being called. She freezes as if she got caught doing something she shouldn't be. But that's not the case here, she's just talking to ... a friend. That's all he is for now. Or is that what Sana tries to convince herself?

She sees Yousef turn around and say something that sounds like: "Efendim, Babaanne?"

That second word, Sana knows what that means. It means grandma. Yousef had told her that a few days ago and she gets really excited that she is able to recognize that.

Then, for a few seconds she hears just rumbling and nothing clear and the screen doesn't show much anymore. Did they lose the connection? Disappointment spreads in her chest but with a sigh she tries to accept that this call ends sooner than she wanted it to. Right when she wants to end the call, the screen stops showing just black.

But it's not showing Yousef. It's an older lady with a loose hijab and grey hair hanging out of it. The woman is very pretty. Even in her panic Sana notices that.

Why was there an older lady on her screen? And not Yousef? Sana really starts panicking but smiles weakly into the camera.

"Hello?", the lady calls, she almost shouts.

Sana doesn't know if she should answer normally or not. She knows it's probably Yousef's grandmother but this was not how Sana planned on meeting her.

Again, a bit of rumbling can be heard until Yousef and the lady both can be seen. Yousef smiles somewhat apologetically and points to the lady standing next to him and introduces her.

"Sana, this is my grandmother. And this is Sana."

Sana wonders if his grandmother knows Norwegian. One of his grandmothers lived in Norway for a long time before moving back to Turkey, was she this one?

"Hello, it's nice to meet you.", Sana says finally with a smile. This shouldn't be how she met his grandmother for the first time. Not through FaceTime, not at this time of the day. It's 9 pm in Norway, so 10 pm in Turkey. Sana just hopes that his grandmother doesn't judge her for calling Yousef late in the day.

The lady leans forward to take a good look at the girl on the screen. She turns to her grandson and asks if this is the 'friend' he has been talking to almost every night. Yousef nods, starting to blush lightly. His grandmother turns back to the phone and lets her eyes wander around the girl's, Sana's, face. She can't help but notice how pretty she is. Seeing the girl sitting there in a big sweater and her hijab still well-done on her head, makes Yousef's grandmother smile. Almost every night since he arrived her grandson would go out on to the balcony to talk with a 'friend' for quite a long time. His grandmother is not stupid, she was young once. As soon as she saw how excited he got to go out onto the balcony at night, she knew that he was not talking to a just friend.

For some time Sana just sits there, with a polite smile on her face and waits anxiously. She sees and hears the two people exchange a few sentences she doesn't understand before Yousef's grandmother leans forward to look closely at Sana.

Does her hijab sit well? Does she look very tired? Is something in the background that could make his grandma instantly dislike Sana? These are some of the questions going through Sana's head.

"It's nice finally meeting the friend Yousef talks to every night.", Sana hears the older lady say and immediately her anxiety comes crashing down on her. Was that meant in just a nice way or was that meant in a 'Let's see who this is' kind of way?

So this is the grandma that lived in Norway for a long time. 

"It's really nice to meet you.", Sana says once more and then realizes that she has said that before. In an attempt to save the situation she asks: "How are you? Yousef has told me a lot about you." Then her eyes fall on Yousef, who sits next to his grandma but cannot be seen completely on the screen. What she sees though is him smiling at her.

"That's really nice of you to ask, dear. I'm fine. And Yousef has also talked about you quite a lot." As soon as she says that, both women in this conversation look at Yousef whose eyes widen and who then covers his face with his hands.

Sana laughs and hears Yousef groan in a complaining way: "Babaanne."

His grandmother also laughs and then looks back at Sana. "So Sana, I heard you want to become a surgeon."

Sana's eyes widen and her mouth falls open for a second. He really did talk about her and his grandmother didn't just say that. How would he even bring her up in a conversation? And even if that happened somehow, how does he casually incorporate that she wants so become a surgeon. When Sana catches herself, she nods smilingly.

"Yes, that's the plan if that works out. InshAllah." Sana's face lights up just talking about it. She doesn't work so hard in school for nothing. Hopefully, it works out the way she wants it to.

Yousef notices how Sana's face instantly lights up when talking about her plans after school. He loves how passionate she is about that and how much she works for it. He tries to be unaffected by his grandmother revealing that he couldn't keep his mouth shut about Sana. Somehow, everything reminds him of her and he just blurts it out. At first he was able to just tell his family that he's just talking about a friend but he's traitor cousin ruined that. Yousef shouldn't have told him about Sana and the amazing date they had before he left but he couldn't help himself when his cousin had tried to hook him up with a friend of his. 

Yousef looks away from the screen of his phone to his grandmother. In the way she smiles at Sana, Yousef can see that another person quickly started to love Sana. It's impossible not to. Look at her being all pretty and cute and passionate about things she likes.

"Well, I'll pray for you and that your hard work pays off.", his grandmother says.

He watches how Sana raises her eyebrows in surprise and smiles broadly, barely able to contain the smile. "Really? Thank you so much! That's .. thank you!", Sana says excitedly which makes both Acars listening to her smile.

"I'll leave you two then. It's getting late.", Yousef's grandmother says, "But you two should go to bed soon, too."

Yousef watched his grandma go inside and calls after her: "Iyi geceler!*", and turns to Sana.

He finds her grinning at him with her eyebrows raised at him: "You couldn't have told me that your grandmother is joining the conversation?"

Shrugging, he laughs: "I didn't know."

"I would've looked better than this and thought about something better to say to her. I didn't want to meet her like this!", Sana rambles on, which Yousef just listens to, smiling and not interrupting her. Once she is done, he answers her.

"Not necessary at all. You look great any time and she definitely liked you, so don't worry."

Sana blushes and hopes that Yousef doesn't notice. There's one thing she needs to ask though.

"So, you talked about me?"

Yousef's free hand goes to his neck and he hesitates for a few seconds before thinking that it's already obvious so he just nods and looking directly into the camera he answers, nodding.

"Honestly, sometimes I couldn't stop talking about you."

Sana didn't expect this direct answer and is speechless for a moment. He talks about her with his family. Why is he so cute? He needs to stop that because it only makes her miss him more. She's so overwhelmed with this answer that she just changes the topic completely.

"Your grandmother is really nice, and really pretty!" 

Yousef laughs about the change of topic. It's not often that Sana Bakkoush is left speechless. Being the one to achieve that makes him smile like an idiot, especially because usually it's the other way round for them.

"I'll tell her that you said that."

------------------

*”Iyi geceler” - Turkish for ‘Good Night’