#it says his dad was Lebanese

[oifaaa]

I get what you mean but Sanji's live action actor is Spanish 😭

He's actually both the Spanish half of him wasn't really relevant to me in that moment but yeah British-Spanish he's got that double coloniser in him

[kavehater]

I’m a descendant of the prophet (kind of) and all I have to show for it is my obsession with an anime blond guy …

[humanoidluv]

dc characters in olympics + the countries they represent but i'm cherry picking because not everyone can be in the olympics

dick grayson : men's gymnastics, any team except the usa, gbr. serbia, kosovo, croatia, albania, macedonia, bosnia team pref because personally i love roma dick grayson who was born somewhere in the balkans and his dad is albanian-american or arbëreshë american, like his dad's mom was arbëreshë (albanian-italian.. essentially.) and his dad's dad was plain ol 'merican

roy harper : men's archery, either usa or belgium's team (i personally love belgium-american roy who was raised on navajo land as the comics say)

talia al ghul : women's fencing, either foil or eepe. team lebanon because i enjoy lebanese talia al ghul and also her in fencing comes from the art i just saw

dinah lance : women's judo, team ukraine. im a sucker for ukrainian dinah and also i think she would do SO WELL in judo?? this one's more of a hear me out but. hear me out okay

ermm... please share ideas u all may have because it's hard to think of characters who would do it (im saying people like clark and diana and arthur wouldn't do a lot of these, like arthur and garth wouldn't be able to do swimming without feeling like they're cheating.) share ideas = theyll be put in my brain

[pixystixx]

Hi can you do 2023 bill kaulitz x 13 year old daughter reader where reader has a best friend who's a boy and is german-Lebanese and his name is hassan and he's tan and has Siren blue eyes and wears black glasses and he's quiet and calm and likes staring at the reader because it's his habit and he doesn't know English so the reader speaks German to him and Tokio hotel invites both of them to their rehearsal and while the boys are talking they notice the boy and reader being close to eachother like hugging and he's putting his head on her shoulder and laughing and the reader is doing something and he stares at her and the boys tell bill about both of them and what they're doing and bill goes protective mode and Georg tells him that they will get married when they grow up and (i ran out of ideas so you can make your own too)

My Little Girl

tysm for the request!! this one's kind of shortt, my bad. i'm running on four hours of sleep and i have to get up at 5 am tomorrow. lol

2023 Bill Kaulitz is f!reader's dad

Summary: You and your best friend Hassan go to your dad’s (Bill’s) band rehearsal. Your friend is very timid and quiet. During the rehearsal, you and Hassan hang out like you always do. You overhear Bill’s friends talking about how cozy you guys are with each other. Bill switches over to complete protective dad mode. (572 words)

༻❦༺

“Hassan!” you call out to your best friend, “Are you ready?” Hassan nods and smiles timidly at you. He follows you into the studio. Your dad, Bill, is already chatting with the other bandmates. His bandmates are Georg, with short, brown hair, Gustav, with even shorter, blonde hair, and Tom, with long, dark hair. Tom is Bill’s twin brother, so they'd look the same if it weren't for their drastically different styles. “We can sit over here,” you say, leading Hassan to two chairs. 

The band is chatting quietly, and silence fills the air. “What music does your dad play?” Hassan asks, pushing his black glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“They used to play rock music, but they still do sometimes. They do a lot more pop songs now. I’ve played you some of their music before,” you ramble. While you talk, Hassan never breaks eye contact. His light-blue eyes stare into yours. It doesn’t bother you at all. He’s always done that. After you finish ranting about your dad’s music, they finally start working on a few songs.

“I forgot to do my math homework,” Hassan whispers, lips next to your ear. You laugh at him, and he frowns. 

You pull him into a hug and say, “I’ll help you with it. Ms. Kendra gives the worst homework.” You keep your arms embraced around him for a bit. You release him from the hug and stick your tongue out at him. Hassan laughs again and lays his head on your shoulder. 

“Y/N, do you want us to play your favorite song?” Bill asks, walking over to Hassan and you. You nod with a bright smile on your face. The band plays your favorite song, and you sing along with your dad. You dance around happily, and Hassan sits on the floor watching you. His eyes follow your every move. 

Even though Hassan looks happily content on the ground, you walk over to him and grab his hands. You pull him up and make him dance with you. His cheeks turn pink since he’s shy. You continue forcing him to dance to the song.

Hassan and you sit back on the ground after dancing for a bit. You two are out of breath and laughing. He lays his head back onto your shoulder as you two laugh.

“Bill, look at your daughter and that boy,” Tom laughs, pointing at you guys. Bill turns his head and shifts to a shade of pink.

“They’re definitely going to get married in their twenties,” Georg chimes in. Bill shakes his head in denial.

“No! My daughter will forever be my little girl. No boy can marry her, not on my watch,” Bill explains, practically fuming, “She’s too young to be having crushes. They’re just close.”

You and Hassan start laughing at your dad’s overprotectiveness. Bill’s face is practically the color of his pink button-up shirt. Tom walks over to you guys and crouches down to sit next to you.

“Your dad might be a little overprotective, Y/N,” Tom smiles.

“I’m so not, Tom!” Bill argues, “I just love my little girl.” 

“Dad, I’m 13 now!” you whine. Bill starts walking over towards you. Bill picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You erupt in laughter as he shakes you around.

“If I can still pick you up like this, you’re still my little girl.”

[fizzywashere87]

Can you write a raph oneshot where reader comforts raph after the kraan incident and gets him a giant plushie

notes: yuhhhh i need to be doing more oneshots anyways :D I hope you like it and apologies for the super duper long wait!

M.List

It'll Be Okay, Big Man

You know it's crazy how fast society moves on as a whole after the world was so close to ending.

It's crazy how quick they just forget four mutants stopped an alien invasion.

Even as the city was being cleared of the debris, torn buildings, the weird ooey-gooey bubble gum looking fungus? Not even scientists knew what to call it. Either way, even as they seen the evidence something big had went down in New York City everyone just seemed to move on, making jokes about it for clout and giggles, nobody seemed to be too shaken at what happened, yeah?

Humans just seem to be silly like that. They don't acknowledge anything that they don't fully understand. Well, while society as a whole moved on, forgot that the sky opened to make way for a huge alien spaceship that seemed to come from the back of a fucking Lebanese shawarma restaurant, forgot about how it looked like a deadass apocalypse went down in New York, there were a few that acknowledged what actually happened- you could even go as to say they were in the center of everything that went down. They were probably the ones that made the spaceship explode, they were probably the ones that made the sky close back up, they could have been the reason New York was able to go back to whatever was trending that week. Don't ask me who, I probably wouldn't know.

It's hard to move on like the news channels decided they would when you were in the middle of it.

Who are these people? I know you're waiting for me to shit it out

Raphael was having a lot of trouble moving on like those silly humans did.

Those stupid thoughts wouldn't leave his head like he wished they would. This wasn't like him at all, he was so out of it. He doesn't even remember what he did under the Kraang's control if he was being deadass. Part of him wishes he did but the slightly bigger part was grateful he doesn't.

Raphael couldn't help but think it was his fault, what exactly? Everything. From the very beginning, to the end of it where it almost ended in his younger brother getting stranded in a whole ass different dimension with something his dad would've told him wasn't real because monsters didn't exist, it was Raph's fault.

Everything that happened that day still haunts him, and he hasn't told anybody about it.

Raphael hasn't told anybody how he gets little flashes- little visions- images- whatever you wanna call it- little touches- feelings- it doesn't matter. It was evident to him that the battle he had to fight internally to win the external was far deeper than he thought. 'Tough shit,' he wants to tell himself. He tries- he really does, he wants everything to be normal again, those little arguments with Leo he could deal with, they always made up- but more importantly he just wants that sticking feeling to go away.

Raphael felt dirty.

You had a feeling Raph wasn't being honest with you. He seemed... off. That's sugarcoating it, he seemed as if he was ready to break down at any moment- any second- you felt it coming.

So there you were heading, to him, you'd already sent a text explaining you on the way to the lair, ready to see your boyfriend. He seen the text and had replied with an 'okay! <3' to which you smiled at softly and picked up your pace, you and the teddy bear in your hand. You were gonna dominate the world with that motherfucker, jus look at 'im!

Earlier, you had decided to put a little gift basket together for your boyfriend. You'd figured he'd needed some extra loving right now, he wasn't so great at hiding it. That- or you knew him very well. Why can't it be both?

You put little pieces of candy you were sure he liked, a king sized bar of Twix because let's be fucking real, they're better than your grammies cookies. You'd included little plushies, a blanket, a little album of pictures with his family- you and April included, and the teddy bear which was currently in your other hand.

Raph would like it, and you hoped it would make him feel better, at least bring a sense of comfort to him in his state. Maybe added cuddles and kisses would help if it didn't. For once, you were confident in your ability to give gifts to people you actually like. The chances of him liking it were higher than the chances it would make him feel worse so you figured- hey! why the fuck not?

You're such a good partner.

Alas, you arrived at the lair, goodies in hand, high hopes for your reptilian boyfriend. You walk some ways to find Raph in his room, curling a dumbbell whilst sitting on his bed. You smile and walk towards him with the gifts in hand, "Hey teddy bear," im sorry i visibly cringed. "How are you?" You ask, testing him, will he lie and tell you he's fine? Will he open up to a conversation about it? You hoped it was the second option.

Raph's face lights up as he sees your good looking ass, even more so as he sees you brought gifts too. "Heya sugar! Raph's doing just fine," Liar "how about you?" He smiles and gets up, placing the dumbbell down and pulls you into a gentle hug. "You brought gifts?" He adds with a smile.

You decided to ignore his little lie, as you were going to bring it up in a bit anyways, instead, choosing to answer his questions. "I'm doing alright," you add with a smile, reciprocating the hug best you could with the things in your hand. "Yeah, I figured you needed a smile." And that was your first attempt to attack the situation.

Raph raised a brow, and allowed you to put the stuff down, and sit on his bed. He joined you, the bed dipping at his added weight. "Why do you say that sweetie?" You knew him better than he thought.

"Well," You start, "Lately you've been off, and by 'off' I mean you seem upset. Upset with yourself. And you've been on edge." You finish, looking at him, scanning his face, and you came to the conclusion he was about to break. "Do you want to talk about it?" You gently ask, placing the teddy bear in his lap.

Raph sighed, so many things, so much stress, so much fear. Damn. "I'm not a good brother." He says quietly, so quietly you thought it was in your head. After convincing yourself he actually spoke and you didn't hit your head that fucking hard in the morning, you sigh quietly and bring him closer to you.

"Why do you say that?" You murmur quietly, rubbing his arms in a comforting manner. You scan his face for any clue, hint, anything that might give it away (thought you were sure it was the reason you had in mind). His eyes welled up with tears and you sighed. "You don't have to tell me right now." You assured him softly, you'd figure he would talk about it when he was ready. You look to the basket of stuff and a soft smile comes across your face, he needed a small distraction right now.

"Hey Raph," You start and he looks to you with glossy eyes, giving a hum in response, you offer a small sympathetic smile to your boyfriend in return and reach for the basket and had it to him. "You never got to look at what else was inside, would you like to do that instead right now?" You ask and a small smile makes it's way across Raph's face. He clears his throat and nods, "Sure thing, sweets." He looks at you in gratitude as a silent way of calming down and thanking you for it.

Raph opens the basket and his small smile turns into a brighter grin, "Aw baby, my favorite candy! I knew keeping around would do me some good!" He gives you a wet kiss on your cheek making you giggle and swat at him with pink cheeks. "Hey!" You couldn't keep the giggles from escaping as you tried to sound mad at him for his comment, "What did you mean by that?!" Raph chuckles and shrugs, "Don't worry about it." He replies. As he looks through the basket he finds the little plushies and immediately his sadness is gone. "Baby!" He pulls you onto his lap and squeezes you tight (always careful to never be too tight), he pulls out the blankets and wraps them around you both, immediately feeling back at home. He finds the album and immediately you feel some weight lift off of his shoulders as if you two were one.

You two spend the rest of the night flipping through the photo album under the blanket as he snacks on his candy, plushies all around you guys, problems pushed aside for now. It was just you and him.

Raphael's problems were nowhere near gone, nowhere near fixed and if he sat quiet for long enough he would feel that need to be cleansed- he would feel dirty again.

Even though that may be true, he simply didn't feel it when you were there to make his mood better, it didn't erase his problems, no,

but he knows you'll always be there to tell him,

"It'll Be Okay, Big Man."

[farenmaddox]

Fic: It's a Living

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen and up Summary: Set in the "It's a Terrible Life" (4.17) universe, but with no monsters/angels/ghosts. Dean is a high-powered director at his company, and a clueless 26-year-old sugar daddy. Castiel is the down-on-his-luck DILF/single dad/aspiring sugar baby who has no idea what's going on except that this sad man who needs therapy is throwing money at him. Chapter 3/ ?: Don't you understand, it's not my problem

Start reading at the beginning

Excerpt from chapter three:

“What are we thinking for lunch, that burrito place?” Walters asked, and Anna and Dean both gave him looks of pity. “God, no, too heavy. There’s the Lebanese place, good vegetarian options?” Dean said, looking at Anna. “Perfect,” she declared, setting a hand on his arm for a second. “Let’s go.” She was a beautiful woman, Dean reflected, and he was good at this. All of this. This was what he was good at. This was all he needed to be good at. They rounded a corner and some dude who was walking too fast and not looking where he was going slammed into Dean’s chest. He staggered back a step, shouting wordlessly, and looked down to see that his pale blue shirt was so soaked in coffee that it was plastered to his skin. His tie was dripping. “Oh, man,” he said dumbly, and looked up, and didn’t say another goddamn word. Because Castiel was standing there, wearing a nice outfit and a trench coat, with an empty cup in his hand and a terrified look on his face.

Read the rest of chapter three on AO3

[thebreakfastgenie]

2 for as many m*a*s*h*ers as you want :p]

2. If they were on tumblr, what would their url be?

I actually did come up with a URL for Hawkeye once, but I was just editing a URL in a screencap to fit him better. A lot of people have tumblr URLs that have nothing to do with their lives, jobs, or interests (hi) but that's really hard to do with fictional characters so here are some ideas.

Hawkeye: currently hes-gomorrah

Clinically insane posting, no one can get over the fact that he's a successful surgeon in real life. Changes his URL, bio, and icon to resemble a pornbot and catfishes Frank like once a month. Frank falls for it literally every time.

Trapper: currently im-gomorrah

Barely posts, mostly made an account to follow Hawkeye and do matching URLs with him. They've changed up the theme a few times. He's the least online and therefore the most free.

Margaret: thats-major-to-you

Posts about military history and women's history, especially where they overlap, and sometimes about nursing.

Frank: proud2be-an-american

Sends Henry and Potter anonymous callouts of Hawkeye, Trapper, Klinger, and BJ literally every day.

Henry: gonefishin

The funniest person on this website, all his posts include unrelated pictures of fish.

Radar: farmnfriends

Cottagecore blog, subject of a minor callout for reblogging posts about veganism but still eating meat.

Mulcahy: christ-our-lord

One of the Catholics but he thinks the eucharist memes are funny and reblogs them often. Changes his URL after an anon points out it could be taken to mean he's saying he is christ, henceforth known a servant-of-christ-our-lord

Klinger: draftdodgerrag

Posts about fashion, draft dodging tips, and Lebanese food and culture. Sometimes he goes on posting sprees about Toledo and has doxxed himself more than once this way. Gets anons like "how dare you give draft dodging advice when you're not even successful at it."

BJ: yellowmotorcycle

Everyone thought he was a lesbian who was just really into dad jokes and were shocked when he posted a picture of Erin that he was actually a dad. His blog title is "even rode my motorcycle in the rain."

Potter: zanegray

Posts about horses, sometimes posts his art. The subject of a callout post because he's in the army.

Charles: beaconhillmd

Treats his tumblr like an actual blog, every post sounds like a press release. Until he starts drunk posting.

[theredpelican]

my dad loved me so much. he was a very flawed man, a product of the 1950s Arab world, the last of seven kids raised by a military general, a stubborn Taurus with the emotions of a child - but that’s the one thing that never wavered, my whole life. he loved me so much. a painful childhood, a miserable life, and through it all, he loved me. a quick lived marriage, an even faster divorce, rumors about his sexual dysfunction. and then he met my mother. a beautiful divorcée, kind and mad, the cheekbones of a goddess, a contagious borderline hysterical laugh, a fractured mind. two misfits getting hitched in the suffocating august heat, in the middle of the civil war. it all looks so peaceful in the pictures, a church, smiling relatives, you wouldn’t have guessed that snipers were, at that same moment, butchering beirut. i often wonder who my parents would’ve grown up to be, without the war. my dad was 23 when it started; my mom, barely 13. they lived through it all, in basements and mountain hideouts, waiting for peace, life, death. they had a child before me, a baby boy, named george after my paternal grandfather. the military general. i never met either of them; my mother killed her baby, my brother, in drugged madness. when i found the birth certificate, two decades later, my dad broke down and told me the story, tears flowing down his sunken cheeks. his head split like watermelon, he said, and then said nothing at all. i used to wonder why he stayed, all these years, but now i know it was for me. created in a little test tube, delivered into the world by c-section, religiously bottle-fed by my dad while my mom ignored my existence. that’s why he stayed. he loved me so much, he loved her so much, and the pain, no matter how excruciating, was never enough to erase the love. he cradles me so lovingly, in childhood pictures, like a mother hen fussing over her child. he loved me so much he threw me extravagant birthday parties every year, inviting all my friends until i had no more friends to invite. he loved me so much he’d stay awake all night when i was sick, holding my hand. he loved me so much he’d tuck me into bed at night and say a prayer; “may jesus, saint joseph, and saint mary be with you. have good dreams and hopefully no nightmares.” he loved me so much he’d pick out my favorite nuts in the nut mix and present them all in a bowl. he loved me so much he put me in front of french tv as a child so id speak another language fluently and be able to leave. he loved me so much he went to concerts with me when i had no friends to go with. he loved me so much he went to see scorpions, thirty seconds to mars, red hot chili peppers, and even mika with me. he loved me so much he took me to the movies every sunday, to the point that the cinema manager noticed us and gave us free tickets. he loved me so much he bought me enough books to fill up an entire room, even though he couldn’t speak English and French. he loved me so much he brought me a kitten and wept when it died. he loved me so much he’d drive me around the lebanese mountains until he was exhausted, just because i wanted to listen to music and stare out the window. he loved me so much he’d let me sit on his lap and cuddle with him for hours, even though he was a little bored. he loved me so much he’d take me to amusement parks and wait around for hours while i tried all the rides. he loved me so much i never knew how expensive it is to be alive, not until the lebanese economy collapsed and he couldn’t shelter me anymore. he loved me so much he let me leave. he loved me so, so, so, much, and i didn’t have the strength to be with him when he needed me most. i wasn’t there to hold his hand. he loved me so much and i couldn’t even go to his funeral.

[disco-cola]

bitches im reporting live from a huge menty b so i just need to rant for a sec but i had a video on my fyp from a guy who said he cant evacuate for milton because he has dogs and no car and no family or friends and he said he wont leave his dogs behind and if they die they die together and after that a video about this american-lebanese dad of four from michigan who had just recently flown over to lebanon to be with his elderly mother and now he got killed in an israeli airstrike and then when i had one of these x days left kill shelter dog videos i literally lost it like i genuinely sobbed my fucking eyes out for like an hour the state of the world is UNBEARABLE like this is genuinely why i am depressed?? all of this is man made suffering like i do not understand?? its not even on a personal level only regarding me but its literally because of the several genocides and wars and climate change and capitalism and animal matters like every single fucking day i think about and get extremely upset about it?? what kind of therapy is supposed to help with that seriously are they gonna tell me to just "blend it out and focus on yourself" like I FUCKING WISH I COULD BUT I CANT i fucking wish i could be self-centered to a point where all of this fazes me for like a minute but then i say well and go back to my own little world i wish i lacked critical thinking skills and genuine empathy i wish i could only focus on my own silly little self i wish the worst thing in my life was that some silly guy didnt text me back because literally existing in this current world and actually paying attention to all the suffering is killing me and i do not know what to do and people will say oh just delete social media and dont look at this kind of stuff like bitch that doesnt stop it from happening and i already KNOW about it i cant go back from that? ugh i just feel so helpless idk i could just cry 24/7 like where do we go from here

[the-catzm30w]

some oddly specific belcher family headcanons because silly

• bob used to practice judaism when he was younger and then fell out of the habit after his mom died because him and his dad were too sad to celebrate any of the holidays and everything so he just started celebrating christmas so they could feel some joy during the holiday season and so they just started to do that and when he married linda that’s the only reason they decided to start celebrating easter and even so they only do it as a holiday where you get candy

• one time when gene was like 9 or 10 or so he asked louise to pierce their ears because he saw all the cool kids on tv had pierced ears and they were so enamored by the shininess so louise pierced their ears with one of linda’s sewing needles and an ice cube (it got infected and gene cried so hard that bob decided to get them ice cream for comfort and once they healed they felt much better)

• bob’s dad is lebanese (his father was an immigrant)

• they are all autistic. yes all of them. (i know this one is common but still)

•agender lesbian louise, bisexual transfem tina, bi4bi boblin, and gender-fluid pan gene (all of these i think are pretty common)

• louise develops an excoriation disorder later in life (around 7th grade) [def not based on me habahahaha]

• gene named their keyboard marble

• both gene and linda are dyslexic but gene has synesthesia and says “this sound tastes like this” and linda’s response is just something like “aw my baby my so creative baby”

• obviously linda is italian but she’s also french because i said so (she will occasionally try to speak either language and fail miserably- when she was younger and would try to speak in italian to her family members who were fluent they would laugh at her in the nicest but also most condescending way)

[bluegekk0]

Hornet (for the character ask thing)

oooh hornet my beloved <3 i'll do this with my au hornet in mind, though i suppose most of it still applies to how i see her in general

Sexuality Headcanon: lebanese. in all seriousness, she's definitely not straight in my eyes. i see her as a lesbian, although with how angsty she is and how she pushes away the idea of close relationships out of fear of losing them, it would be easy to assume that she's not interested in anyone

Gender Headcanon: she's canonically female, but i personally see her as quite gender non-conforming. she holds no attachment to gender, though at times she seems to reject femininity (for example, she would react negatively to others calling her old cloak "a dress", which is why in my au design she has a much more gender neutral outfit). i wouldn't go as far as to say she's enby though, just that she prefers to present herself in a more neutral way. i like to think that this could be one of the results of pk raising her on his own. throughout her childhood, she would mostly look up to him and grimm, whenever he visited the palace (i love the idea of baby hornet seeing him as a role model). that, and she hated all the royal dresses that the white lady forced her to wear, so that certainly had an impact on how her dressing preferences now hahah

A ship I have with said character: at this moment? none. lacenet seems tempting, but i want to wait for silksong to release first. there is a very good possibility that they continue their rivalry with no possibility of anything else, but if by any chance they're on good terms by the time the game ends? yeah i'd be very open to exploring their relationship further, since i do think there's good chemistry there

A BROTP I have with said character: ah, my hornet is a bit of a shadow the hedgehog kin and doesn't really have many friends. she's afraid of becoming close with anyone since she fears that they'll leave her or die, so it's difficult for her to open up to anyone. as of now, i actually see grimm as the closest thing to a best friend. now, before you ask "but doesn't she find him annoying?": she does. he can really get on her nerves, but it's all banter. whenever he's not teasing her, he can be incredibly fun to talk to if you share interests, and i love the idea of both of them being fans of reading. that, and there's still some attachment she holds for him from her childhood. so their relationship is a mix between "good friends that like to annoy each other" and "dad and daughter but they won't admit it". outside of that? i could see her becoming friends with bretta, mostly because holly spends a lot of time with her, so hornet tends to hang out with them. though i'm very tempted to have bretta develop a crush on her, so that could be very interesting. other than her, maybe myla? that could be a fun friendship, if hornet decided to cheer up and stop being so moody, that is

A NOTP I have with said character: for reasons stated above, and because i see them as having a dad and daughter kind of relationship: hornet x grimm. grimmnet or whatever that ship is called. it's always had weird vibes to me so i was never a fan, but now i actively avoid it as it makes me uncomfortable

A random headcanon: she would be really good at bowling i think

General Opinion over said character: my beloved shadow the hedgehog core blorbo. pretends she doesnt like anyone but she desperately wishes to be loved. 10/10 would take a bullet for her. would also take a bullet from her if she decided i'm too annoying

[sup3rqu33n]

Have you noticed that my favorite stories about crawling around the scene in NYC involve me getting some?

But what can I say. Lots of opportunities to move and shake at drag events. More than one would think…. If one isn’t frannie.

Confessions of an accessories curator #6…

It started with utter chaos backstage - wigs and titties flying as per. But your girl Frannie stayed cooler than cool whip with her duct tape magic.

That's when he appeared - the snacc handed us coffees. “I’m Tariq and I'm Lebanese.” he purred… irrelevantly. I didn’t understand it, though, at first. Maybe it was supposed to mean something and I didn’t get it? Good coffee though. Also he was really very nice looking, like really strong with big almost black eyes.

We followed him like lost puppies, hypnotized by his small but flawless booty. 🍑 he was some drag contender cutie’s houseboy assigned to service the staff, I figured.

But no. His dad owned the club and he was spending his summer in NYC too, and he was from overseas but had only been in America a couple times… also, he thought he’d be doing big things. Not doing shitty intern work and not going near any event talent. Later at the 24hr diner, his charm had me jelly from the thighs up as we flirted over Turkish coffee and snacks. 🥰 we became pretty good friends too.

[worldwright]

Good evening !

So. My mother finally believes I have depression lol

Apparently my psychiatrist never gave me a diagnostic because it's obvious as fuck

jfc

so, yeah, need to tell my shitty father this so he can lose his shit once more and go into burnout a third time bc he learned smth he doesn't like about his children wait brb gonna tell him

...

he fuckin told me to talk to more people and going outside more and all LOL LMAO I DONT HAVE ENERGY BRO WDYM GO OUTSIDE AND WALK YOUR DOG IM IN FUCKIN CRUTCHES AND WE DONT LIVE SOMEWHERE FLAT I CANT WALK LAIKA EVEN IF I HAD THE ENERGY FOR

fuck him

he doesnt knpow what hes talkin about it's been years im suffering from depression and hes saying shit like that

fuck him

hope he dies old, in a hospital and alone. ill be there to spit on his grave

before you ask, yes i ate well today, my mom made lebanese rice and i like it very much when i put eggs with it

have a wonderful morning my friend, gonna read some fics and play pokemon bc fuck

RICE yum

also yeah fuck him fr jfc. not bothering to know enough about hus child to be able to tell when you're struggling and ALSO being an active detriment to you getting help

gonna do taxes tonight, I still gotta call my dad for help cuz I've got some stuff that complicates it, but he's really good at explaining :3 and maybe we can watch dunmesh afterwards :3333

I shoulddddd get groceries today, and i also need to do laundry (shockingly. I did not do it yesterday) but it's a pretty day and I showered last night so I should be able to manage it

thh convention schedule finally got released!! lots of exciting stuff hehehehehehe

hope you have a lovely evening, friend!!

[reejindeed]

In a twitter post you refer to your Jido (grandfather) are you Arabic? :)

My Jido is Syrian so partially!

I'm pretty removed from it, not like my cousins who are first generation from Syria or Lebanon or who grew up bilingual. I never learned Arabic minus how to phonetically say certain words or phrases and then like... The food we make.

I don't know the romanized way of spelling certain things either since I've only ever heard them said.

My grandparents helped raise me and my sibling though.

I don't usually lead with saying I'm Syrian since I'm more Irish. Family reunions used to be awkward since most of my family would be yelling at each other in Arabic and I'd stand there like 👁️👄👁️ hah??

It's my sitto (technically my Jido's mom but everyone calls her sitto) and his dad that are from Aleppo... Though there's this whole family "secret" that sitto's family is actually from Armenia and had fled during the genocide, so some of the stuff we say/the way we make food is a weird mix of like... Syrian, Lebanese, and Armenian.

It's also made it hard because there are foods I really love that I don't know how to spell them in English since it's all phonetical. Who was gonna tell me sfiha was sfiha and not sfeeha? None of us knew, our family spells it wrong OTL

I did used to enjoy the BBQs at my uncle's though since we'd all get to sit and smoke hookah, but they'd always do like... Apple and rose flavors... And my Jido wants to put rose water in everything but orange blossom is WAY superior! Especially in mamounieh.

And I STILL hate the taste of anise. We used to have an anise gum from Syria. It was like a chiclet but make it anise flavored. Gross.

ALAO HOW DO YOU SPELL ARAS? AROS?? ARAZ??? I can't find it on the internet... We've always spelled it aras but... I'unno.

Anyway that's my rant about being Syrian hahaha

My Jido's a really sweet man and we're still very close. I lived with my grandparents for about a year and a half, not counting the fact that I basically lived there as a kid.

But yeah I ended up hanging out with just them for Christmas the other day, it was nice!

[lattewithatwistoflemon]

There’s a debate about whether I’m of Lebanese or Jordanian descent. My DNA results say northern Lebanon, but my dad says his grandfather was from Jordan. However, I read that Jordan wasn’t officially a country until recently. I wonder if my great grandfather lived in the area that is now Jordan, but his family came from Lebanon?

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

Danny and Jules Take on the World (Gen Alpha Skidibi Toilet Emo Nephilim Kid and the Fairy Princess WIP)

NaNoWriMo Day 0: Preptober

It was a sticky July morning in Centreville, Virginia. Jeihon was sleeping over with me, and I thought to myself: Julie, today’s the day. The day you tell her, your best friend in the whole world: the truth.

Jeihon was smacking on some gum and doing some bubble braids from a YouTube tutorial. “How do you like it, Jules?” she asked me, her sunshine, singsong voice like the birds outside Rocky Run Elementary School.

I looked over at the screen, nerves totally aflame in my stomach. The cute college girl who was doing the bubble braids to match her Taylor Swift tour outfit was tres cool. “I think you should tighten the ends, otherwise, perf.” I helped her, her thick black hair so nice. I had long, curly red hair that nana says was my “Irish pride, kissed by the fairies, you are. My Irish rose.”

But kids at school called me Jules the Jinger, and I thought it was a radical pain.

“Why do you look sick, Jules?” Jeihon asked me, slipping a candy bracelet with ‘CORNELIA STREET’ on it we just made in bubble blue and gum pink onto my wrist.

“I got my period, Jie.”

“NO WAY! Like that panda girl in Turning Red. Oh my god, you must have freaked. You’re like, the first girl in our grade to get it.”

“No way, Jeihon. I’m twelve. Lizzie and Shameka got theirs at like, ten.”

“Yeah, huh. Wow, you’re a woman. There’s probably a Sabrina Carpenter song about this. Maybe Espresso. I think that’s a woman’s song. God, I’m still eleven Jules. Okay, we have to celebrate.”

“How?”

“BOBA!”

In a few minutes, we had walked to the boba shop downtown. There were some college kids with Tamagotchis, some people playing Pokemon Go V3. I was trying to catch a Charmander.

There was this weird kid. He looked like an emo. He bumped into me, his Vans flashing with strung-up red lights on the black-and-white diamonds.

“Hey!” I said.

“Ew, a girl.”

“Shut up!”

“Sorry. I’m Dan. Daniel. What a grandpa name, right. Hey, can I buy you a boba. Dad wants me to buy you one to apologize.”

Jeihon was playing the claw machine in the corner. I eyed Dan – Daniel – and grew suspicious.

A man in a tailored fancy-looking white shirt and blond hair in some really nice haircut was reading something called The New Yorker in the corner, glasses on. He had a really pretty woman next to him who looked Lebanese like my friend Noor, or maybe Syrian. She was curvy like the Beltway, all in the right places. The man was frowning at Dan. She was smiling dotingly.

“Oh… you can read your dad’s mind. Okay, fine, I want taro and nata jelly,” I said.

The handsome old man – well, maybe he was like, thirties, but c’mon, that’s as old as Jesus – nodded in approval to Dan.

“Okay. Dad says I have bad manners. I’m trying to work on it. I’m begging him to take me to see Ronnie Radke tour with Slash and Rob Zombie.”

Daniel – Dan? – bought me the boba. He got himself a tiger sugar. Jeihon saw Lizzie and Shameka and they were playing string games like cat’s cradle and folding some paper cranes from Lizzie’s ever-present art kits.

“Ronnie whosawhat? Slash-uh?”

“Oh god, heck, you don’t know? Do you live under a rock? Only the best rock guitarist with the best metal vocalist and BEST horror film director-slash-singer. They’re playing at Jiffy Lube Live. It’s called the ‘Mother Monster Creeper’ tour.”

“I like fishing songs. Like, um, the Wellermen. I’m Irish. And Chappell Roan, Steeleye Span, the Indigo Girls, and Taylor Swift.”

Daniel scrunched up his nose. “That sounds interesting. My family is from, um, somewhere warm.”

It was then I noticed his bracelet. It had weird squiggly lines, an X and O and S’s, serpent thingies, and swirls. “Oh cool, what is that thing? A band thing? I have this one.” I showed him the ‘CORNELIA STREET’ candy.

Daniel blushed, his black hair like his mom and blue eyes like his dad scrunched in embarrassment. “Mom, um, makes me wear this. It’s a, uhhhh what is it called. Family hair a loom.”

“What’s a hair-a-loom.”

“Uh. Heirloom.”

“Are you an heir like the British royalty kids.”

“Yeah!!! Sort of. I don’t know. I can’t even figure out which boba I like.”

We sat and pulled out our Pokémon Go V3s. They were these new AI handheld immersive Pokémon games. Daniel had a Squirtle with sunglasses and a soda as his main partner, and I had Cosplay Pikachu with her mega-cute heart-shaped tail and dress.

“Nana says I’m the hair of the loom of a fairy lord. Her great-great grandpa.”

“I hate fairies. They make me sneeze.”

It was my turn to scrunch my nose. This guy was weird. “Right, as if fairies are real. That’s like when nana drinks too much Guinness and says I have the Second Sight.”

Daniel looked over at his dad, who was drinking an espresso. They had these bitter coffee drinks for my political aide dad, but mama always got sweet strawberry milk tea. And mugwort pastries – ew.

I only liked red bean…

Suddenly, I felt sick, like I was gonna hurl. Was this a cramp? But no, Daniel’s eyes were glowing RED? I freaked, swallowed hard, then, tried to pinch myself. Was I imagining things of blood loss?

Dad, can mortals with the Second Sight see the Morningstar Insigni-lasagna-thinga?

Danyeel, it’s called an Insignia. Now I want your mother’s lasagna, honey. And of course they can. But mortals with the Second Sight all died out over half a century ago, with the Spanish Influenza.

But my new human friend saw it.

You always had an overactive imagination, Danny Boy. Heh. Go back to enjoying your time making new friends, okay? Remember, we have nothing to fear from mortals. They are beneath us.

“Aren’t you a human?” I blurted.

Daniel shushed me. “Uh, not really. I think dad wants me to keep it a secret, but middle school and moving here all alone is so hard, I need like, one friend Julie Bear. You’re as squishy as a gummy bear. Heh. Just don’t tell dad. I’m shielding psychically. He can’t hear us.”

Nana’s and mama’s old stories of the fey came flooding back to me. Gacanoghs bleeding wee “lassies” dead on a barrow of love. Leanen sidhe sucking sailors dry. The redcaps with blood on their hands.

And. Red eyes.

The Unseelie.

“Are you… a Good Neighbor???” I slurped up the nata jelly and tapioca. “Do you want milk out on the stoop? I guess I do have the Second Sight. And Second Earsight.”

“I’m a bad neighbor. I always play my Gibson real loud. Dad got it to me when we moved to Earth. He’s trying to do this new thing with demon deals and humans. Easier to control and lure souls or whatevs.”

“Sounds like a Republican.”

“He’s a massive strict dictator, but he has a soft side. You know, obsessed with birds like old people. He says he can finally do a birding good year. Big year. Ginormous year. Or something here. We watched this ancient Jack Black movie about it.”

“Peaches.”

“Peaches peaches!” Daniel – Danyeel’s? – snub nose, wide mauvy blue eyes, and tannish gold skin shone. He had really massive braces, and a few pimples, and was way too skinny and tall, like his growth spurt hadn’t filled out.

“Cool, you’re the first nonhuman I met.”

“You’re my first human friend. Can you introduce me to peeps on my first day of school tomorrow?”

“Uh, you promise you’re not a – you know. Kin of the Air. Under the barrow.”

“I hate fairies, dude. Ick. Allergies. I’m a demon. The hair of loom of demons. Danyeel Morningstar.”

“Like Morningstar Farms food stuff. Mama likes that. And Stroopwaffels.”

We were battling our Sunglasses Squirtle and Cosplay Pikachu on Pokemon Go V3.

“No, like, you know…” Daniel – Dan – Danyeel – Dan Dynamite – leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Lucifer and Lilith are my mom.”

“I renounced Catholicism when they said I couldn’t be Pope when I asked in Sunday School in the third grade. I think your dad is the good guy. Women shouldn’t have to labor and be fruitful and multiply. Apples are tasty, and we’d be slaves to God or whatever.”

His Squirtle won. “Yeah! Eh, Michael is my uncle and godfather. I think everyone gets along. It’s all about politics and neutrality and decorationum. Décor-yum?”

“Your dad seems to use a lot of good big words.”

“Mom’s Queen of Hell. Dad kind of just works for her.”

“Like Madame President and the First Husband?”

“Maybe. Want mooncakes? They make them year-round here, the old lady cashier said.”

“Okay.”

Dan came over later that night when I was looking for four leaf clovers in Cub Run Stream Valley. Nana refused to go there on account of a rain owl who had appeared one day apparently being an “accursed changeling, my wee lass.”

I liked the owls, snakes, and ducks.

“I didn’t know you liked the woods.”

“I like trying poisonous mushrooms. Demons can eat rocks, minerals, poison, toxins. Uncle Asmo likes Radithor with candied violets. Mama puts radium in her tea. It helps demon digestion.”

I made him a quick dandelion bracelet. “You know, Dan Dynamite, it’s a lot today. I always knew there were fairies, but demons? Huh. I don’t think I’m scared of demons. Do you cut mince pies from children’s thighs with which to feed the fairies? Like Mad Maudlin and the Boys of Bedlam?”

Dan and I laid down and cloud-gazed. “I like your ideas, Jules Bear, but you’re kind of weird. We don’t touch humans until they’re like, old enough and mature enough to do demon deals. And it’s not souls we take, just ideas – demons are inspired to create things along with humans, like music. How do you think rock was made?”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

Dan blew a dandelion pod. It got on my face.

I sneezed. He laughed. “Sorry. And your hair is really red. Like my real eyes. Everyone hates fairies. They’re evil hicks. Well, some are pretty and nice. But I guess they are not as bad as goblins. Sometimes thirteen-year-olds go on the Geocities Satanist 90s website that are somehow, like, still there or whatever, and summon my dad’s underlings. Then the girls ask for nail polish or Chappell Roan tickets, or sometimes, a twenty-three-year-old lonely girl asks for a friend or boyfriend. Dad tends to send those desperate girls shadow demons in gray sweatpants. It’s like, their uniform. They are incubi.”

“What’s an incubi?”

“Mom is a succubus. Daddy’s a fallen angel. I don’t know. They won’t tell me most grown-up secret things. I don’t even know how I’ll save up enough Hell Dollars to buy Falling in Reverse tickets. Everything in Hell is taxed at 99.9% to encourage black market operations in Asmodeus’ gambling dens and crap with blood at the bar-margarine.”

“Bargain?”

“I don’t know. Dad taxes my allowances. He makes me file things. It’s sorted by decades – he says the Baby Boomers died of over-indulgence. I don’t know what that means. Hell kind of is like, uh, a waiting room for bad souls to learn lessons. Then, they can move on to happier pastures. Well, mom says so.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. Is Hell at least clean?”

“Yeah, dad’s a real hardbutt for that. And mom runs Hell as tight as an ironclad ship. Wants Hell to be as pretty as the Silver City Uncle Michael runs.”

We arm wrestled. Daniel won. I won the second time.

“You’re strong. I want Taylor tickets.”

“Not even Lamia my best friend in hell can get Taylor tix. And her dad is Mammon. He’s like, the richest King in Hell.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll have no luck. Dan, what’s it like being a demon?”

“Uh, wanna see my wings, tail, and horns?”

“Eh, sure.”

“He just looks like a boy made of snips, snails, and puppy dog tails. Like a guy who does pranks on MicTok.”

“Nah, Jie, he’s a demon.”

“Prove it!”

“He eats rocks. And mushrooms.”

“Salt is a rock. I eat salt,” Jeihon countered as we played Go Fish at lunch. “And I eat a lot of chanterelles. Dad is a forager.”

“That sounds fancy.”

“So, am I a demon?”

“Jeihon, god, no!”

“Can I, uh, sit with you?” Dan said, coming over, blushing and nervous. “Um, can we be friends? So far, Jules is my only friend here.”

“That depends. Name Taylor’s best album.” Jeihon scooted over anyway and motioned for Dan to sit. I rolled my eyes.

“Jie, go easy on him. He’s a guy. They’re not really into this stuff besides ‘Evermore’ and ‘Folklore.’”

“I like ‘Red’,” Dan said. “I listened to it. Taylor’s Version. Mom plays it all the time, actually, I realized. I asked her what one song was about, and momma Lil cursed and said that mustard John Mayer.”

“Why would she call Taylor’s toxic abusive ex a mustard?”

“I think that word is supposed to start with a B, Dan Bear,” I said gently.

“Sorry, my ram’s horns make it hard to hear sometimes.”

We pulled out our lunches. Danyeel had shwarama and little German sausages and a pack of red cabbage. I had leftover blood pudding, roast carrots, and a bowl of Irish stew. Mom liked to make lots of stuff with potatoes. Jeihon had some Choong Man Korean fried chicken.

“I BROUGHT ENOUGH TO SHARE!” Jeihon said. “Dad owns one of the franchise restaurants, Dan. And I hate Irish food unless it’s like, a Cornish pasty or haggis. So I can’t steal Jules’ lunch.”

“Hey, Jules the Ginger, Eating Blood for Dinner!” Raul my bully called.

I stuck out my tongue. “You wish your mom packed your lunch.”

Suddenly, a snake appeared on Raul, strangling him. It had rainbow scales.

I freaked. Only I could see it, it seemed. Second Sight. Raul was choking, but didn’t know what was going on!

I looked over at Danyeel. His eyes were burning red, and his tail, wings, and horns poked through, alongside a bloody industrial halo, like something from one of dad’s Rammstein albums.

“Psst, Dan. Stop. You can’t curse people at school. That makes you no better than an Unseelie.”

Dan’s concentration broke, and the snake disappeared, Raul gasping for air. “Hey, I’m not a seal! I’m a hippo! I like hippos! And elephants! I am not wet! I don’t like taking baths, I’d rather be covered in dirt like the crust punks that built the scene!”

“You’re odd, Dan. What scene? What crust, like pizza?” Jeihon asked, scrolling on Sinstagram.

“Unseelie! Not a seal! Yeah, he’s weird, Jie.”

“Well, he did something freaky to Raul. Okay, Dan, you can be a demon if you want. But you need to work on your spelling.”

“I can only really read Enochian.” Danyeel pulled out a yo yo and did tricks.

“Ooo!” Jeihon said.

He balanced the string on his nose and did a yo yo backflip.

“Yeah, you’re right Jules,” Jeihon whispered, her black pearl eyes sparkling prettily. “Only a demon would be cool enough to do yo yo tricks.”

We were in math class, working on equations. Dan was scribbling in strange patterns on his practice sheet.

He showed it to me. It had a bunch of things that looked like Lucky Charms, but more sinister.

“Is this right?” Daniel asked.

I pursed my lips. “Hmm, no. But the circles look like zeroes, sort of. Do you know normal math?”

“Only glossolia from Hildegard Von Bingen. It’s how my Uncle Beelzebub taught me, here,” Dan said, winking and looking sneaky. He folded the paper in half, a portal opened with red flaming stuff, and he reached into the middle of the bent paper to pull out Popeye’s chicken. “Math is reality. Demons and angels are just physics with personality. I’m the demon of dark matter. I store a lot of snacks in dark matter. Mom took me to this realllllly good restaurant, Popeye’s, by the Korean coffeeshop and her nail salon in Centreville, and oh man, fried chicken. Oh man oh man.”

The teacher was snoozing. Mr. Laneyson always fell asleep. He was like, 85, and had an old man’s alertness. He always just gave us our homework early halfway through, then dozed. Most of our schoolwork was digital, on the Smartboard, but he did everything paper. It was catching on. Loose schooling – unattaching Gen Alpha kids from being too digital. We were in Gifted and Talented, so things were a bit different, if you catch my drift.

But not as different as summoning Popeyes from your math homework.

“Dark matter sounds useful. Teach me. And give me chicken, please, Dan Dynamite.”

“It’s really spicy, Jules Bear. Can you teach me math, then I’ll always feed you Popeyes? Uncle Ahriman taught me noetic shielding and summoning, so I can block anyone’s perception, even my massive narc dad.”

I munched on the chicken. Mmmmmm! “So we can sneak snacks, and no one notices? I don’t want Jeihon to be in on this, dude. I want you to be my best guy friend. Jeihon is my best girl friend. Emos are okay. I like coquette and cottagecore. Jeihon is like, kinda artsy, I’m kind of cutesy, and you can be the edge of the group. We can make a Pinterest board and Pokemon Go V3 team to match the aesthetic. Girls on MicTok talk about “aesthetic” a lot. And BookTok. Hmmmm.”

“Okay, I’ll use dark matter only for you, and try to teach you – but your fairy blood is pretty faint. It will take a stroke of luck, for you to use noetics, I mean, it’s pretty basic, but I’m not thattttt talented, and I’m only like, twelve.”

“I’m twelve too.”

“Yeah, and fairy magick is elemental and magick. Mine is blood, math, quantum mechanics, and prototime. Well, dad likes crystals, and mom is a kitchen witch.”

“My mom gets grumpy in the kitchen too.”

Recess came. Jeihon had ditched us to hang with Shameka and Jessie. They were playing with some battle tops called Girlslash. They were supposed to be this girl-centered revamp on dad’s collection of Beyblades. Sometimes, dad got really stressed at work on Capitol Hill – he called it Capitol Hell – so he’d come home, set up his Beyblades and this tabletop nerd thingy called Warhammer 40k where he painted dorky space soldiers, blasted Disturbed (an old dad band, ick), and made the Beyblades take down the space soldiers.

Mom hated it.

“Hey, Dan, wanna see my Girlslashes? I have a She-Ra, Catra, and Glimmer one.”

“He-Man and Teela and Skeletor are my faves, do you have those?”

“Sure. BY THE POWER OF ETERNIA.”

“I HAVE THE POWER.”

I had pulled them out of my backpack right away, and we were battling the tops with their magnetic points on the blacktop of the basketball court – Girlslashes were meant to be used on sidewalks and stuff – and letting the ripcords go.

“Check your phone, the GirlHash app. It tells you your battle stats. They have little chips in them, and the heroes move and do tricks and stuff.”

We loaded them on their phones.

“Sick, I unlocked Skeletor XP 1,000 and the Castle of Grayskull Diamond Candies!!!” Dan said.

I felt blue, like Taylor driving away from Taylor Lautner in December. “Umm… I lost.”

Tears dotted my eyes. I hated losing.

Danyeel patted my shoulder. “It’s okay, Julie. You won at Toy Story Uno.”

I warmed. “Heh, yeah. Hey, can we see if I’m magick? Like the Popeyes thing you did last period.”

Danyeel brightened, we put my Girlslashes in my backpack, then we went inside for Language Arts. “No time left, time for school! I’ll show you at the park tonight, okay? Then mom and dad want you over for dinner.”