#moroccan accent

[departmentofinteriors]

morocco

[jesterlaughingstock]

Just started watching the algerian version of my favourite show Les Switchers and so far the accent is throwing me off but im gonna be honest it does have its moments lmfaoo

[clayne-stanbridge-2002]

How awesome is this electric boho hippie room? It’s stuffed with varied, bohemian pizazz like shaggy pads over a bed, hanging wall unit, and Moroccan-propelled accents. The multi-color dancing tapestry at the wall, crocheted plant wall painting, and bright tapestry over a bed, are all the highlights of this plan.

[leathergallery]

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[despite-everything]

i think i can confidently say my architectural style is the intersection of hacienda, morroccan, and mid-century.

[eagleflieswiththedove]

Eclectic Living Room New York Large eclectic formal and loft-style living room design example with white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace, and no television.

[fostersgifs]

Mediterranean Bedroom - Master Inspiration for a massive Mediterranean master bedroom remodel with white walls and a dark wood floor

[volatile-vertex]

Boston Eclectic Bedroom Bedroom - medium-sized eclectic guest bedroom idea with brown floors and purple walls but no fireplace

[denismilovanovworkshop]

Los Angeles Bedroom

[ghostsprobably]

Winx Rewrite Character Nationalities!

Here's my winx redesigns and the earth equivalent nationalities/ethnicities I envision them as!

(featuring lots of random people from google images)

Bloom: Self Insert lol (white person from long island, earth)

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Stella: Moroccan! She is very tan because she spends so much time soaking up the sun, but if she went a long time indoors her skin would lighten a bit.

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Flora: Mexican Indigenous! She also spends quite a lot of time outside tending to the Garden

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Tecna: Irish, and she does not get any sun lol (i like the idea that she has an accent bc Faragonda has one and she's spent so much time with her)

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Musa: Chinese of course

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Aisha: Barbadian! She's from an island nation, so I always imagined her being from somewhere in the Caribbean. rn I have her voice claim as Ayo Edebiri so Barbados felt right!

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Icy: Russian, it's cold there

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Darcy: Her family moved around a lot to get away from their connection to Liliss so her ancestry is quite diverse, but I think she would identify as Pakistani, as that is where her more recent family is from.

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Stormy: South African, Zulu! Her family has a very strong appreciation for their ancestry and wikipedia says "Zulu" means heaven or weather, which I think is fun.

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I'll be back later with the guys!

[give-me-a-minute-to-think]

In a poetry club I attend a friend of mine wrote this poem in light of the current situation, and I wanted to share it on her behalf (translated to english with the original hebrew).

A POEM IN HEBREW / Efrat M. And the Lord shall scatter you among the nations He who shut the heavens that there be no rain And you were left forever dead and forever alone to eat by the sweat of your brow The fruit of knowledge has been bitten and you can never go back home My grandmother was born in Iraq. My family was expelled from Iran. My mother was nine months old when they fled Baghdad. My father is from Libya, his uncle was murdered in the streets. My grandfather had to leave everything he knew behind. My grandfather is from Morocco. My grandfather is from Italy. My grandfather is from Romania. My father is from France, his parents are from Morocco. Both my parents are from Syria. Both my parents are from Russia. My family is Moroccan. My family is from Egypt. My family had to live in a tent for two years. My grandmother is from Austria and Czechoslovakia. My grandparents are from Uruguay and Chile. My grandfather was born in Israel. My grandfather is from France. My great grandmother is from Poland. My great grandfather is from Yemen. My grandmother was born in Israel, but the family is originally from Libya. My grandfather is from Iraq, but the family is originally from Iran. Both my parents are Greek. Both my grandparents are Romanian. My grandfather was in a Libyan prison for five years after attempting to flee. My father is from Iraq, my mother is from Tunisia. My grandmother is from Tel Aviv, but before that from Galicia. My grandfather is from Poland. My grandmother is from Libya. My grandmother is from France. Grandfather from Tunisia. My grandfather is from Tel Aviv, but originally from Poland and Lithuania. My grandmother is from the United States, but before that from Hungary. My great grandfather is from Poland. My great grandmother is from Russia. My mother was born in Israel, her mother was born in Israel, and her parents are from Romania. My grandmother was born in Mexico, her father is from Lithuania, her mother is from Hungary. My father’s parents are from Poland. My mother's parents are from Germany and Ukraine. My mother's mother is from Hungary, my mother's father is from Romania. My father's parents are from Argentina. My great grandfather is from France, or maybe from Germany. My grandfather and his seven children fled Morocco. My father was attacked, and they decided they could not stay. My family was forced to start a life elsewhere. My grandmother fled Yemen. The date of her birth is lost to time. They arrived in Israel with nothing, everything was taken and looted and left behind. My mother tells me of Moldova When the youth movement was still called the Young Communist With her homeland spoken russian half understandable to my ears or With fluent hebrew marked by an indelible accent Even after all those years Her distasteful tone graying with age, she told me of a childhood grudge that no longer mattered No more than words, simple quiet violence Simply a teacher before a room of young students and my mother simply a child Return from whence you came Where Iscariot first betrayed with a yellow kiss To the Jewish country that was made so that We need not carry the burden of abominable life Our parents, brothers, and sisters were torn from us before our eyes Cast from yourself all delusion The rage you feel now will be with you for the rest of your life The sorrow you feel now will not fade once the rest of the world marches on This grief must be spoken We are no longer weak and defenseless And they told us go like lamb to slaughter And we didn't go Return from whence you came To your mansions in New York or New Jersey Where we can comfortably break your glass windows And spray marks of Cain onto your front doors My people Who came from nowhere and belong to no one

'שיר בעברית / אפרת מ והפיץ אלוהים אותך בעמים הוא אשר עצר את השמיים ואת המטר ונשארת לעולם מת ולעולם יחיד לאכול בזיעת אפך פרי הדעת ננגס ולעולם לא תוכל לשוב הביתה סבתי נולדה בעיראק. המשפחה שלי גורשה מאיראן. אימא שלי הייתה בת תשעה חודשים כאשר ברחו מבגדד. אבא שלי מלוב, דודו נרצח ברחובות העיר. סבי נאלץ לעזוב את כל שהוא מכיר. סבא שלי מרוקאי. סבא שלי מאיטליה. סבא שלי מרומניה. אבא שלי מצרפת, הוריו ממרוקו. שני הורי מסוריה. שני הורי מרוסיה. המשפחה שלי מרוקאית. המשפחה שלי ממצרים. המשפחה שלי חיה באוהל במשך שנתיים. סבתי מאוסטריה וצ'כיה. סבא וסבתא מאורוגוואי וצ'ילה. סבא נולד בארץ. סבא מצרפת. סבתא רבא מפולין. סבא רבא מתימן. סבתא נולדה בארץ, המשפחה במקור מלוב. סבא שלי מעיראק, המשפחה במקור מאיראן. שני הורי יוונים. סבא וסבתא רומנים. סבי היה בכלא לוב חמש שנים. אבי מעיראק, אמי מתוניסיה. סבתא מתל אביב, אך לפני זה מגליציה. סבא מפולין. סבתא מלוביה. סבתא מצרפת. סבא מתוניסיה. סבא מתל אביב, אך במקור פולין וליטא. סבתא מארצות הברית, אך לפני זה הונגריה. סבא רבא מפולין. סבתא רבא מרוסיה. אמי נולדה בארץ, אימא שלה נולדה בארץ, וההורים שלה מרומניה. סבתא שלי נולדה במקסיקו, אביה מליטא, אמה מהונגריה. ההורים של אבא מפולין. ההורים של אמא מגרמניה ואוקראינה. אמה של אמי מהונגריה, אביה של אמי מרומניה. הוריו של אבי מארגנטינה. סבא רבא מצרפת, או אולי מגרמניה. סבי ושבע ילדיו ברחו ממרוקו. אבי הותקף, והם החליטו שהם אינם יכולים להישאר. משפחתי הוכרחה להתחיל חיים במקום אחר. סבתי ברחה מתימן. תאריך יום הולדתה נאבד לזמן. הם הגיעו לישראל עם כלום, הכל נלקח ונשדד והושאר מאחור. ההקרבות והקורבנות רבים מספור. אמי מספרת לי על מולדובה כאשר תנועת הנוער עוד נקראה הקומוניסט הצעיר ברוסית מולדת החצי מובנת לאוזניי או בעברית שוטפת אך עם מבטא בלתי נמחק אפילו אחרי כל השנים בטון סלידה מזוקן משיבה היא דיברה על טינה מהילדות שכבר לא משנה לא יותר ממילים, רק אלימות שקטה רק מורה מול קהל הילדים ואמי רק תלמידה. חזרו למקום ממנו הגעתם היכן איש קריות בראשית בגד בנשיקה צהובה למדינת היהודים שנוצרה בכדי שלא נצטרך לשאת בנטל חיי תועבה לעינינו קרעו מאיתנו את הורינו, אחינו, ואחיותינו. השליכו מעליכם כל אשליה. הזעם שאתם מרגישים כעת יהיה אתכם לכל חייכם היגון שאתכם כעת לא יתפוגג אחרי ששארית העולם יצעד הלאה. התוגה הזאת אינה אילמת. כבר איננו חלשים ואיננו חסרי מגן. ויאמרו לנו לכו כצאן לטבח ולא הלכנו. חזרו למקום ממנו הגעתם לביתי התפארת בניו יורק או ניו ג'רזי שם נוכל בנוחיות לנפץ זכוכיותכם לרסס אותות קין על פתח ביתכם העם שלי הבאו מאין מקום ושייכים לאין אדם

[shehriyana]

Oh to be a little gay detective who speaks in a preposterous accent and occasionally slips out of it to hint at how ridiculously funny he is as a character within the literary imagination.

Oh to be able to stand up for women who have been belittled by the unkind and the privileged, to be a cerebral force that unfailingly outwits the malevolent and the ignorant.

Oh to have Hugh Grant as my dreamboat partner, who stress bakes every now and then, who I had proposed to with some exceedingly goofy pun (like “only you can fill the Blanc in my life”), who answers the door all messy and covered in flour as I am attending a zoom call in my bathtub in my eccentric little Moroccan hat.

Oh to be Benoit Blanc.

[olderthannetfic]

Just as different Spanish dialects vary wildly, often to the point of being different enough to warrant a dub, so too does Arabic. Anything made and produced in Morocco will have another non-Moroccan, usually Egyptian Standard Arabic dub. Why? Because Moroccan Arabic has borrowed so many words from indigenous Amazight languages and keeps shortening all their words and they speak SO DAMN FAST no one outside Morocco can understand what they're saying. The "fuck vowels, all my homies hat vowels, get that vowel out of there" alone is enough to make for a really thick accent even when they're trying their damnedest to speak Egyptian Standard Arabic.

The Moroccan government was hoping more access to the internet and standard Arabic media might make the dialect more "normal". Instead, I can happily attest that my classroom of beloved Moroccan gremlins have begun grabbing English slang from online. You have not lived until you hear a teenage boy in a knockoff "Ike" hoodie with half the Nike logo say he's "sadge" to his friends and look at you like, 'Eh? That's a cool word, right, Mr. Foreign Teacher? This is what cool English speakers say?'

It's not. But I will never tell him otherwise, because he looked so satisfied with himself and so accomplished. I adore these language-butchering babies with my entire heart.

--

[bipolarman2022]

Carlos had begun his trip to Morocco with the simple intention of learning and immersing himself in the Arab culture he so admired. However, what began as a desire to understand and live according to that culture ended up transforming into something much deeper and more personal.

From the moment he arrived in Fez, Carlos felt as if he had returned home, to a place that, although unfamiliar, resonated with his soul in an inexplicable way. The bustle of the markets, the call to prayer echoing from the minarets, and the warmth of the people all spoke to him of a world that, in some way, he had always felt was his own.

As the months turned into years, Carlos left more and more of his old life behind. He began to adopt not only the customs, but also the values, beliefs, and eventually the faith of those around him. His friendship with Ahmed, which had initially been a bond to culture, transformed into a kind of spiritual mentorship. Under the guidance of Ahmed and his family, Carlos not only learned to speak Arabic fluently, but he also immersed himself in Islam, finding in it a peace and spiritual connection he had never experienced before.

Eventually, Carlos decided to take a step that would mark a turning point in his life. One day, after years of study and reflection, he decided to formally embrace Islam, adopting a new name that reflected his transformation: Karim. For him, it was not just a name change, but a full acceptance of an identity he felt had been waiting to be discovered.

Karim became an integral part of the community in Fez. He was active in the local mosque, respected for his knowledge and devotion, and his story of transformation inspired many. He was no longer the Spaniard living in Morocco; he had become a Moroccan in body and soul. His appearance had changed as well: his skin, tanned by the Moroccan sun, his well-groomed beard, and his traditional clothing made him indistinguishable from any other man in his community.

Over the years, even his habits, mannerisms, and way of speaking became completely aligned with the culture he loved so much. When he spoke Arabic, he no longer had a foreign accent; when he prayed, he did so with the same fluency and devotion as anyone born into that faith. At family gatherings, Karim was seen as one of them, as a brother, a son, a full member of the community.

His transformation was not just external, however. Karim found in his new identity an inner peace that he had always longed for. His life in Spain, though filled with happy memories, faded into the back of his mind, like a distant dream. Now, when he looked back on his past, it was with gratitude, but without nostalgia, because he knew he had found his true home.

In the end, Karim had not only become what he had always admired, but he had found his purpose and his place in the world. He had been transformed not by imposition, but by choice, by a path that led him to discover that, deep down, he had always been Arab in spirit, and that he only needed to rediscover that part of himself to be complete.

His story became a local legend, an example of how identity is not necessarily linked to the place of birth, but to the place where the heart finds its true peace. Karim, the man who had started out as Carlos, was now a symbol of the union between cultures, a living bridge between Spain and Morocco, between what he was and what he had become.

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

you could never understand me speaking arabic then 😭

i speak so fast that actual arabs get mixed up 💀 that goes for english too tho

*spawns infront of u*

HI QUEENIEEEE

INARA HIIIII <333

HRUUU