#MAMA ACAR

[nani-nonny]

Am... Am a bit acared...

NOOOO HAHAHA

no worries, no bishop, nothing like that just Draxum sillies and a dash of angst

I have all the chapter “summaries” written out and I assure you the cast will only have the main turtles, F!Leo, a sprinkle of F!Draxum, Little Lou, Splinter, a dash of April, and Draxum. I think. Yeah. I don’t think I plan on bringing in Big Mama or anyone else. Just a totally chill F!Leo AU.

Nothing too serious, they said ominously without meaning to.

Here, I’ll even share a summary for that chapter which shouldn’t be too spoiler-y because it may change:

The turtles and April take the tot to Draxum where they explain the situation. Here comes Draxum thinking he’s so fucking smart but he is very wrong. Don’t let him hypothesize or theorize anymore, he lost brain cells after joining the Hamatos.

[bear-momma]

i'm sorry mama. I've been in such a bad mental space, and i'm very very acared of the future :( i lashed out a few hours ago from doomscrolling

That is a very valid fear, and I'm sorry you're going through that right now. You're not a bad person for being afraid.

If you lashed out at someone in particular, it's important to apologize to them as well! It's healthy to acknowledge what we did and strive to be better. Are there healthier ways to manage that fear the next time you catch yourself doomscrolling?

[tinyshout]

Update kehidupan hari ini

Pembaca yang bahagia sama kebahagiaan orang lain, hai! it’s me again, Kamila.

Seperti yang pernah aku ceritain sebelumnya kalau aku siap untuk bekerja lagi as medical lab technologyst, sebuah bidang yang aku lumayan suka. Singkat cerita aku dapet loker dari adik tingkat aku, aku mencari pekerjaan sebagai ngisi waktu aku aja tanpa merunyamkan mood aku sebagai seorang istri yang harus memaintain kebahagiaan keluarga kecil kami. Just because I’m not looking for career, I’m looking for a job. melamarlah aku disana.

sambil menunggu kabar aku mengisi waktu olahraga seminggu 3 kali di Gasibu, that was really nice experience to me. me time, olahraga, dan sunlight! So energizing. Setelah lelah aku baca buku diperpustakaan gasibu sambil ngadem.

aku berolah raga juga karena aku harus maintain hormon aku supaya stabil, dan mendapat banyak sinar matahari kata dokterku survivor endometriosis harus banyak dapet vit D karena menurut jurnal itu efektif coping with endometriosis. so yeah here I was olahraga dari pagi sampe siang. dijemput suami dan ikut ke kantornya.

Selain karena harus maintain hormon, olahraga juga bikin ngurangin rasa sakit kalau kalau aku nanti haid soalnya aku kalau haid sakit banget. jadi aku siap siap aja.

terus aku mengisi hari hari ku dengan masak, mission unlock aku masak soto lamongan, cumi cabe ijo, dan acar. so simple tapi bangga aja. I’m happy to say I’m talented wkwk.

setelah masak dari pagi sampe sore buat persiapan idul adha aku ngerasa cape dan mulai tumbang. Damn, sakit haid nya mulai kerasa dan terjadi dalam kurun waktu 2 hari. tapi ga haid haid juga. Dan aku gamau mikir panjang aku minta tolong pak suami beliin kiranti dan test pack. aku mau minum kiranti di pms nya aja deh biar pas hari h ga sakit, tapi aku harus make sure aku ga lagi hamil.

dia Jalan kaki nyari nyari yang jualan test pack soalnya pada tutup karena cuti panjang. aku aga kesel kenapa ada teknologi yang namanya motor kenapa dia memilih jalan sedangkan aku udah kesakitan huhu sorry.

and then dia pulang pulang cuma beli pembalut dan

test packnya, sedangkan kirantinya ga dibeli🥲 huhu mau nangis guys

karena reagennya “sensitif” jadi dia bisa pake urin sewaktu ga mesti urin pagi,

aku test dan nunggu spesimennya merambat ke garis T dan garis C jujur aku biasa aja sambil ngelamun soalnya aku udah sering banget test pack.

Ta Ta Tapi kali ini ko garis T nya bereaksi yaaa oh mungkin tar juga kelewatin dan hilang, biasanya juga gitu toh.

and Jajajaaaangg, positif. jadi nyeri perut ini bukan karena haid tapi aku pregnant🥹

aku keluar dan gaperlu mempersiapkan skenario buat ngasih testpack biar momennya pecah juga bakal pecah ko buat aku dan suami soalnya ini bener bener penantian panjang kita berdua 🥹

Masya Allah tabarakallah

Assalamualaikum sayang, hai! aku doain kamu jadi anak paling bahagia di Bumi Allah ini😘

makasih udah hadir sayang, ditengah tengah mama yang sempet pingin nyerah sama hidup ini🥹

[berisiqbal]

10 Juli 2022

Hari ini idul adha. Alhamdulillah bisa solat ied di site. Habis itu lanjut ke open house mama abed. Di sana makan sop kikil, ayam kecap, bihun sama acar. Ada es cingcau juga. Beres makan, ngobrol bentar terus masuk kerja.

Di kantor langsung meeting bahas current issue di process plant. Ada sedikit perubahan dari yang dulu metallurgist di bagi ke beberapa subsection sekarang dicampur aja. Jadi kalo udah kelar tanggung jawab utama dan area yang dicover lagi aman, diminta bantu area lain yang lagi bermasalah.

Hari ini ngirim alias shipment bullion. Kalo pernah liat orang buka brankas di film-film hollywood akhirnya aku ngerasain. Liat doang sih kayanya enak tapi pas nyoba sendiri ternyata ngepasin kodenya itu PR ya.

Beres shipment lanjut solat ashar dan makan sate. Alhamdulillah kenyang meski sakit gigi. Emang ga boleh banyak makan sate sih harusnya. Sore abis makan sate langsung submit inventory sampel PTK yang diminta sama bos.

Malemnya galau mau makan atau engga karena masih kenyang sama sate. Akhirnya boker dulu buat nurunin muatan baru makan malem. Porsinya pun dikit dan aku coba untuk banyakin sayur biar pencernaannya lancar.

Beres makan langsung solat isya dan lari. Ternyata capek juga lari 7K. Udah lama ga lari sejauh ini soalnya. Waktu lari lututnya sakit, jadi pace nya dilambatin. Ternyata masih stabil di pace 6. Alhamdulillah. Selesai lari langsung pendinginan dan peregangan di lapangan.

Waktu udah di mess ternyata otot dada sebelah kanan (yang di bawah lengan) sakit. Kayanya sih karena ketarik. Akhirnya distretch lagi. Alhamdulillah sakitnya ilang. Abis itu langsung mandi dan bersih-bersih. Cukur jenggot, cuci muka dan skinkeran.

Tadinya mau nyuci baju tapi udah mager. Jadi paling nyuci bajunya besok aja. Oh iya hari ini kelar ngerekap catatan keuangan. Waktu di kantor juga sempet kelarin analisis fundamental buat acuan investasi saham. Ternyata aku beli $EMTK tuh ketinggian. Setelah direview jadi tahu deh harus beli di harga berapa.

[okaywhateverokayyes]

Highly Illogical, Most Likely Improbable

“Yousef?”

He turned from the sink, “Yeah.” It was resigned.

“When you’re ready to talk, please remember that I’m here for you.” That was all.

(Yousef’s POV)

He slid on his snapback, pulling the sleeves of his jacket through his hands-his left hand first, then his right. Yousef grabbed his comb from off of the dresser, avoiding the mirror as he disentangled the short strands of hair that fell on either side of his face.

His laptop’s screen had animated once more, a message alert appearing on the bottom screen. He slid the cursor and pressed onto the box.

Mutta: Yo. Dude. See you in 20.

They had-well, the other four had decided that they had enough for another video. They were more than willing to find livestreams when possible to watch the series. Cavaliers vs Warriors. At that moment, it seemed like a good portion of the people he knew were invested in a game that had no effect on their lives. Or for their country.

Which, were the point of sports, in essence. Global domination.

Yousef swiped his thumb across his phone, clicking on the message box as a red swirl hovered over it.

Adam: 30-bring a jacket, it’s cold! Opp Med Hum Øret ❤

Yousef pulled out his backpack from his closet, unzipping it as he slid his hands in. He fisted his flask in his hand, pulling it out before settling his bag beside the rear of his bed.

He peeked out from his room, looked in both directions. His ears were heightened in their senses as he honed in on any specific sounds. He’d settled for no one being home as he strode into the kitchen.

Yousef ran the sink water as he emptied the contents in his flask, grabbing the hatch of the fridge door with his free hand. He leaned further towards the fridge as he grabbed a slice of lemon. He kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot, nudging the tap shut with his elbow.

He knelt as he grabbed the kettle from the dishwasher, wiping it with an unkempt cloth wrapped around the stove railing.

He flipped the tap water with his thumb, watching as the water surfaced up and even further to the top lid. As it reached the brink, he turned off the faucet before he emptied the kettle a quarter way out.

Yousef flicked the stove on, settled the kettle on the burner as he kicked the stool from underneath the island with his foot. He nudged it in his direction as he went to take a seat.

He grabbed the handle of the knife from the counter block, easily slicing the lemon into thin wedges. He would cut half of it before reaching for the saran wrap, grabbing hold of the clingy plastic wrap to the size that seemed apt to cover the entirety of the lemon chunk before slipping it against the sharp creases that cut the film from the roll.

Yousef haphazardly wrapped those two together, reaching for the fridge’s hatch before shoving it beside the carton of milk. His mother would most likely recognize it there than if he had put it somewhere behind the pickled olives.

He slipped back on top of the stool, leaning backwards as he rested against the island frame.

His pocket reverberated through the fabric of his jeans, which caught his attention. He stared at the front door from where he sat as he pulled out his cell, swiping his thumb across the screen.

Mutta: I ripped my jacket, give me a spare.

He had his thumbs ghostly hovering over the screen.

It wasn’t as if he would refuse to let Mutta wear one of his jackets. They did in fact wear somewhat similar sizes, Mutta finding more comfort in the slight enormity of it. It wasn’t as if it was the first time either.

Yousef chuckled quietly to himself when he knew exactly which one he had a predisposition. It was a Levi’s trucker jacket-a faded denim color that had buttons that served no purpose either than being there. If anything, it was futile for the weather more than it was actually serving a purpose.

Yet, Mutta never seemed to be disdained by it. It’s as if he had forgotten his level of sheer discomfort because of how it just fit him. This past winter, he had told Yousef that the snow had nothing on him and as Yousef watched Mutta roll down the frosty hill with nothing other than gloves, a hat, his jeans, a white fleece with that trucker jacket that was unbuttoned- nothing seemed to dissuade him from rolling down the hill once more with his toothy grin.

Yousef: Trucker is in the laundry, man. ☹

(…)

Mutta: </3

Yousef: Sorry, buddy-

(…)

Mutta: Ikke bekymre deg. Don’t worry about it. Neste gang, rett.

(…)

Yousef gazed at the kettle, a faint whistle emanating from within.

He glanced at his lap as his phone buzzed-

Mutta: How was work?

Yousef scrounged up his eyes as he focused on the baby emoji. He had the urge to tell Mutta that they were toddlers, but he resisted the temptation.

Yousef: Eh

(…)

He had taken a quick nap after had had come back. Today, it was about learning how to write a letter within the lines and it’s only when he had to help a couple of them did he realize that maybe this wasn’t an easy task as he had imagined. Their tiny nimble hands slipped all over the page, the writing ending up more on the floor of the room rather than the paper.

It was-

Charming, to say the least.

He laughed a couple of minutes in, accepting that the amount of crayon wax that he would need to spend cleaning with a surface wipe as they took their second nap of the day. Fortunately, for him, it wasn’t as much of an endeavor rather than it was a redundant task.

Yousef wondered how they had managed to get crayon pieces stuck into a crevice on a bookshelf that had been three times their height. He wanted to say it might have had something to do with teamwork but he settled on sheer luck, as anyone could flick a wax piece in the air and have it coincidentally land somewhere.

He doesn’t question it as he collected the pieces of Crayola.

The group chat goes off-

Adam: CAVS JERSEY on and ready

Mikael: uh 3-0

Elias: Don’t listen to him. CAVS, Hele Veien!

Mikael: being real bro. ^^^

Adam: I’m being real bro!  :/ :/ :/

Mutta: The force is strong with the Warriors, my dear Spock.

Yousef rolled his eyes.

Yousef: That’s the wrong universe, Mutta  :P

Mutta: huh?

Mikael: Star TREK has SPOCK!

“Going out?”

Yousef jolted slightly in his seat as he glanced up, his eyes falling upon him mom. Pulling out a chair, his mother sat down across from him and fanned herself a few times with some newspaper that had been sitting on the table, something with Aftenposten written on top.              

“You’re not cold?” He asked instead, as he sat back on his stool and rolled a marble around an empty salad bowl.

She stopped fanning herself, glancing at him with the very intent of trying to understand where he was coming from. “I think I’m coming down with something.” She resumed ruffling the paper in her face, sliding her hand on the island for extra leverage as she leaned back in her chair.

“Oh.” He searched her face, saw the darkish hued bags under her brown eyes. She looked pale in comparison to her normal complexion, but other than that, she wore a mellow smile as she looked back at him.

“I’m fine.” She asserted.

“You sure?” He asked, reaching over to press the back of his hand against her forehead. There was no stark heat that emanated from her, so he pressed his index and middle finger against her wrist-quietly jotting down her pulse rate in his mind before pulling away.

She ran her hand over the woven fabric of his hat. “You look sick, not me.”

“I do not.” He chortled as he slowly withdrew his hand.

His mom gave him a look before setting the newspaper in front of her. “Come here.” She insisted.

He held his hands out in front of him, “I’m fine.”

His mother shook her head, as she folded her hands over her papers. “Alltid så sta. Always so stubborn.” Her voice is void of any frustration as she fixed the vase beside her.

“Me? Stubborn,” he snorted,  “I work with kids, ma.”

“So?” She pressed, “I raised both you and your brother, I know stubborn. Your father and now both of you, Insha’allah.”

Yousef stood up and walked over to the stove, fisting some lemon wedges in his hand before dropping them into the flask that he set beside the sink.

He knew stubborn. If stubbornness had a face, it would have been Sana. The way her dimples would deepen, as her brows creased inwards. She wore a resolute demeanor that spoke in volumes as she wrapped both her hands somewhat defensively across her rib cage. Stubborn was in the way she would refuse to even acknowledge the person she held disdain for. Stubborn was the way she would ask rhetorical questions and everyone had to be aware of the fact that answering her would only validate her frustrations.

It was the way her pupils were vacant and what he saw was how she felt. Emptied and maybe he could conflate it with being free but not seeing the familiar hue in her eyes felt wrong.

Yousef drew a sharp breath as he blinked away his thoughts, instead gripping onto the hydro flask between his palms, his skin turning a ghostly white from the sheer pressure.

“Yousef?”

He turned from the sink, “Yeah.” It was resigned.

“When you’re ready to talk, please remember that I’m here for you.” That was all.

Yousef rubbed his forehead. Never got tired, feeling like an asshole. He lifted the kettle from above the burner, swiping the switch off. He poured the steaming water from the spout into his flask, half way before settling the kettle back onto the burner. He clasped the lid on the flask before he walked over to the table and kissed his mother’s head. “I’ll be back, Ma.” She didn’t say anything, but he felt her eyes on his back all the way to the door.

He stepped outside, sliding his hood over his head as the breeze swept across his face and clamped onto his flesh as frosty prickles. When Yousef was outside, he stood against the railing of the steps and made himself take a few deep breaths.

The warmth from the flask seeped through the container, dispersing out and absorbed by his skin, warmth prickling the palms of his hand soon afterwards.

It had been days now and the only thing that had put Yousef in contact with Sana was these videos that they would shoot. Even then, he had a hard time stomaching the thought of having to be in the same room with her. He had a thousand and one questions and his prerogative to ask them shot to shit everytime she walked into a room.

He had to clamp his mouth shut just hearing her name, intrepid that his words would fall out of his mouth with such alacrity, she would probably think he’s more than an asshole than she had already decided him to be.

She had to-

He was-

Unfriended.

He walked into a room and she sulked as if his very presence had sucked the air out of the room. Even then, she hadn’t even acknowledged his presence.

Days was something he wasn’t underestimating.

He checked his iphone as he took large strides down the street and turned the corner to come to a stop at an intersection. Their group convo would buzz off every eight seconds or so, Mutta still confused by the very concept of what the difference was between Star Trek and Star Wars, Mikael insisting on clarifying.

Halfway up the street, his phone rang. Yousef swiped his thumb across the screen as he pressed it against his ear. “Hey.”

“Mikael is with me and we’ll meet you at your place and walk to Mutta’s.” Elias declared, a faint voice heard behind him, more of a loud snort. Could only be Mikael as he most likely continued to insist on making his point.

“No video?”

Elias clicked his tongue in verbatim, “Nah. Just changing places.”

Yousef slowed down his pacing, kicking his feet at the ground. “I’m already on my way.”

There was a shuffle on the other end. “Oh.” Another static buzz. “Uh, yeah-the girls came by a couple of minutes ago. They are doing their own russbuss planning and yeah it looks like they don’t want us here,” sarcasm so dry, it seeped through the cell, “So, we have all the space at Mutta’s to you know, just chill.”

Yousef breathed out, uncurling his fingers from around the flask.

“Unless you want to see Noora before we go to Mutta’s?” Elias drifted off.

Yousef frowned, consciously aware of the fact that Elias would not be able to see. He picked up his pace as he strolled across the street, flailing his palm out in front of him as a car approached his direction and stopped a short distance short.

“Noora?” Confusion was etched into every syllable, “Why?”

Elias scoffed. “Uh, you know why.” As if it was the most obvious answer. And maybe his perception was overestimated because at that moment, he felt as befuddled as the next person. If that next person had been Bart Simpson.

“No. Not really.” He huffed out.

There was a part of him that had been convinced that Elias wasn’t going to be able to maintain the silence, that it was going to be interrupted by a callous snort or a offhandish grunt.

“Right. So like you trying to keep this between you two still or do you want to try to you know? Maybe keep us in the loop, sometime soon.” Yousef was surprised at the flat harshness of Elias’ remark.

His feet came to a sharp halt.

“What.”

Elias was dismissive as he muttered, “It’s whatever, Yousef. It’s your life. It’s cool,” the sheer sternness of it implied otherwise. “Meet us at Birkelunden, and share your spot so we can find you when get there.” That was it. A click followed soon afterwards.

Yousef gripped his cell tighter, his knuckles cracking from the sheer force. He shifted his weight to his other leg as he extended his right leg outwards, digging the sole of his shoe into the cement pavement until his toes ached.

He dropped the hood from over his head, letting the harsh wind swipe against his face. It does nothing to soften the blazing heat that swarmed up to his cheeks, a smoldering warmth so blistering, he had to look around him to make sure it was even as cold as he had remembered.

The gust of air felt like the spines of knives pressing into every open crevice of his flesh, caving into his lower epidermis and twisting in on its own, in a repetitive and cruel manner.

“What.” He repeated to himself, shrinking as the implications dawned upon him like he finally had caught sight of a fast-paced truck sweeping in his direction.

Noora and him?

Noora and him?

There was no Noora and him.

“Oh sh-“

[rumaan]

The weirdest head canon for me are people thinking Sana is against early marriage. That girl is putting a ring on Yousef's finger as soon as possible. She's not waiting to finish Uni and Med School. I'm not even sure she's waiting for graduation from Nissen!

[lovemebitxh]

What Sana's mom was actually thinking

Sana: i like Yousef

Mama Bakkoush: no shit. color me surprised.

[notskam]

Damn carrots, again!

[shameforskam]

so i’ve seen a lot of talk recently (from myself included) about all the plotlines being explored in s4, which ones are getting more or less time, and sana not getting enough focus- so i wanted to take some time and separate the show from the fandom and the social media content and really see what’s getting the main focus, specifically looking at the screen time dedicated to each plotline 

i feel like since we all want to know like everything that's going on with every character and have created so many theories, small details really stand out and get cycled around the fandom a lot so they feel like the biggest deal (which i mostly love) but like i said i’m putting all that aside and this is only going to be what’s shown in the show itself because while the youtube channel and text messages and everything add so much it really all comes down to what’s actually on air

so i’m gonna split this up into what i think are the main plotlines we’ve been following (of course some of these overlap and i’ll account for that) and this is only a little over halfway through episode 4 (posted before the last clip) and i’ve rounded a bit just for sanity’s sake 

Sana’s personal conflicts and storylines

Russebuss/ Islam and Norwegian Identity (including her performing Salah): 34 minutes

Yousef: 22 minutes

Relationship with family: 15 minutes

Noora and her past/relationship with William: 16 minutes

Vilde and her relationship with Magnus: 5:30 minutes 

Evak and Even’s connection to Sana/Mikael: 6:30 minutes 

take from this what you will i really just did this to work it out for myself

[pranpatlove]

Me after the new clip

[sdivalla]

JULIE CONFIRMED THAT YOUSANA IS ENDGAME

GUYS IN THE LAST CLIP MAMA BAKKOUSH TOLD SANA THAT HER MARRIAGE WOULD WORK ONLY WITH A MUSLIM GUY BECAUSE WHEN SHE STATED DOUBTING ONLY HE WOULD  BE ABLE TO REMIND HER WHY SHE’S MUSLIM AND UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE BELIEVES IN BUT IT TODAY’S CLIP YOUSEF”THE NON-MUSLIM” ACAR REMINDED HER THOSE THINGS!THIS CLIP WAS JULIE CONFIRMING THAT THEY REALLY ARE SOULMATES AND WILL BE ENDGAME.

[diabray]

I'm so upset about Yousana but so impressed by Sana's faith you feel me

[gofindastud]

Y'all freaking out about the carrot in yesteday's clip but like WHERE DO YOU SEE HER EATING IT? Am I blind? 'Cause i saw none of that. What I think it is is another metaphor with carrots and yousef x sana relationship. Sana is finally ready to eat the carrot (meet yousef and tell him what she feels) but she can't eat it (yet) because she's fasting (she realizes again that she can't be with him because of reasons-but maybe also YET) so we're waiting for her to eat the carrot and tell yousef how she feels. And that's what i'm gonna believe because if yousana is not endgame i'm gonna riot ✌✌✌ peace

[prettymysticfalls]

I thought today’s clip was going to be fun. But I guess, I assumed it way too fast because Sana canceled her meeting with Yousef. Her mom didn't sound so disappointed. She made fair points in her own way. Like, yeah, Sana doesn't have to marry the first one she dates. Her mom just talked about the marriage stuff because Sana brought it up. Sana is being a typical teenager who thinks that she will mary her first love. Also, let's not forget, Yousef's background is actually Muslim. His family is Muslim. He is the one who chose not to be a Muslim. Deep down, she always knew Yousef not believing in Allah would be an obstacle for her. However, her crush on him was also so strong that she couldn't let go of him even when she thought he was with Noora. Why is Sana thinking of everything in such a detailed way? Just live in the moment, girl! Don't be this farsighted! I still believe, they will date in the end though. Maybe, Noora will reach out to him and convince him to extend his time in Norway so he could talk to Sana.

[okaywhateverokayyes]

Prompt: How Yousef deals with the aftermath of Even’s incident at Bakka. 

Characters: Yousef Acar, Mama Acar and mention of Even Bech Næsheim

P.S: Chand translates to ‘moon’.

The tears come easy. It’s a pain that crawls up his spine and sets into the crevices in his flesh. There’s no space untouched by this weariness. It drains him until he has to jab his fingers into his palms to center himself. The pain does nothing but allow him to refocus. Because he has to. He’s sitting on his bed, gripping onto the ledge until his nails cracked. But he can’t sit there the rest of the day.

He’s gonna have to step out of his room, converse. Make it seem like he was fine. That there was nothing to worry about.

Yet, he has a hard time even expending the energy to sit up. He’s vertically disinclined, all of his energy seemingly used to just sit upright.

His breathing is ragged, languid, almost purposeful yet he’s no privy to why. He tries to take larger inhales, smaller exhales. It’s almost a pattern he tries to grasp onto yet the breath comes out short, caught in his throat.

It feels like his airways are being sliced in all directions and the air is swallowed by the wounds. If that was practical, it would have been the apt way to describe it.

He lifts his head up. “Yousef!” His mom. She sounds closer as she repeats his name, “Yousef, dinner!” He’s stomach churns at the thought. Although, it churns in the way he’s just about ready to lurch over and empty whatever contents he had in there. He settles one hand tightly around his waist, digging the soles of his feet into the wooden floor. The graininess seeps through his flesh, otherwise invisible if it weren’t for the fact that he was trying to shift his focus onto anything other than the dull ache in his chest.

It’s a throb so rapid and sharp, the hard-blows to his chest rises up to his eardrums, richochets off before everything silences for a mere second. It’s short enough before the same, suffocating ache induces-this time, faster and that much more impactful.

“Yousef?” There’s a knock at his door. The knob turns, to no use. He has it locked, it’s the first thing he does when he sprints back home. At first, he’s languid as he walks. He tries to absorb the words. He remembers the looks on all their faces. He sees the hues in his eyes darken to an almost pitiful abyss. As if he’s fallen through a pit within himself.

Those eyes flash through his mind. Yousef rakes his hands through his hair, tugs at his hair forcefully, whimpering when his roots burn.

He doesn’t stay to see whether the color returns in his pupils. He finds himself walking away, not saying a word-reticent-maybe akin to a coward, but simply put, he’d rather be a coward than agree to anything in that instance.

“Yeah,” he croaked, biting down on his tongue when a whimper threatened to escape, “I’m coming.” He tries, jamming his mouth with his clenched fist when a sob is stuck in his throat. He bites down on his hand, harder-a little more harder-

“I made your favorite, Yousef.” His mom sounds like her usual self. Optimistic and a dash of unrelenting empathy. “Kunafa,” which was his favorite. A sweetness like no other, a delicacy his mother took a great pride in mastering. “I’ll save some for you before your father eats them all,” there’s a implicit understanding between them. One that his mother is well aware of. “Yousef?”

He doesn’t pull his hand away, feels the visceral scream tearing at his seams.

“Just a sec-“ he gets out, void of any cracks. At the bell of time, it seems. His hand trembles as he drops them to his side. He grips onto the sheet on his mattress, kneading his fingers through the fabric in an  urgency that aches his knuckles.

The knocking stops. The knob stills.

He begs quietly under his breath, hopes she understands. Hopes she would just go. Hopes she knows why.

He hates himself. He hates his reticence. He hates his inability to defend his friend when they needed him the most. He hates it. He fucking hates it. It tears him apart in a wretched way that he wonders how he has not yet collapsed onto the ground, melting into the cement and through the soil underneath.

“I love you, my chand.”

Yousef’s breath catches mid-exhale. He flicks his head up, wavers his eyes as they fall upon the spot where he knows his mother is standing behind the wall.

He wonders whether he could pass out from how long he’s able to hold his breath without even trying.

He hears her feet pad on the glossed floor, hears them get distant-further, and further away.

Only then does he let out a simpering wail, quietly whispering under his breath. “I love you too, Ma.”

[thickskinandelasticheart]

Did you realize that from this three devastating moments from yesterday's clip, the only one in which we saw Sana (almost) cry was the fight. Because she was crying for Isak?? And I just really really hope my girl will manage to cry for herself to, in her mother's arms...

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Sana staggers back a few steps. Yousef and Noora are still wrapped around each other like serpents, oblivious to everyone around them.

She opens and closes her mouth without any words coming out. The music is too loud, the room is too crowded and she feels dizzy.

She turns around and runs. She doesn’t care how crazy she looks, sprinting out of the bar, bumping into people without any “excuse me” or “I’m sorry.”

She was done apologizing.

For everything.

She hears her name a few times but she just keeps moving. It doesn’t matter who it is, they’re all the same.

Sana steps into the tram, collapses on a seat and leans against the window. She closes her eyes and shuts out the world around her.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

When she gets home, she heads straight to her room.

On her study desk she sees that stupid, stupid flower he had given her. She tosses it in the trash.

Then she takes out her laptop and deletes her browser history.

How to get over someone you deeply love?

How to make 300,000 fast?

Why can’t Muslim women marry non muslim men?

She watches as all those questions disappear. Wiped so easily. And she feels fucking satisfied and bitter at the same time as she erases it all.

A white blank screen in front of her. A fresh clean slate.

If only it was this easy to erase every jab, every memory, each and every one of their words from her mind.

She has supported and listened and cared for all of them only to get nothing in return. And she is sad and angry and resentful but most of all….she is tired.

So tired of holding it all in that she sits down on her bed, takes a deep staggering breath, and starts to cry.

She puts her face in her hands and feels the tears slip through her fingers, shoulders shaking as she sobs.

There’s a knock on her door and her mom’s voice on the other side. It’s unlocked anyway so after a few knocks she gently opens it.

When she sees Sana she rushes forward and asks her, “Sana?! What happened why are you crying?”

And Sana wraps her arms around her mom, puts her head on her chest and continues weeping without offering any explanation.

Her mom is shocked but she simply holds her baby, and rubs her shoulders and softly murmurs “it’s okay, it’s okay” to her.

After a while when she’s calmed down, and only silent tears are falling down her cheeks, her mom says, “You want to talk about it?”

Sana feels the lump in her throat and bites down on her lip. She really doesn’t. She wants to retreat back into her mind, and like every other time, internalize all her struggles and sorrows and deal with it in the unhealthiest manner. But she realizes that it’s not the right thing to do. That holding it all in was making her life miserable.

So she opens her mouth, and like blood rushing from arteries into veins, it all flows out.

She starts a story then breaks off and starts another but somehow she manages to convey her feelings about everything and everyone. The Russebus, the comments of those girls, Yousef. She leaves out the part about Elias because that’s the last thing her mom needs to worry about.

Her mom listens without interrupting and when Sana is done, she’s silent.

“You were right Mama. I should’ve listened to your advice. I’m the one who’s dumb not you. I’m sorry.”

Her mom gently lets her go and makes Sana sit up.

Then she takes her face in her hands and says, “Look at me. You are not dumb. I want you to understand that it doesn’t matter what those girls said, you have the brightest mind and the kindest soul habibti and nothing and no can take that away from you. No one can change it unless you let them. Unless you let their words and actions get to you. Unless you sacrifice parts of yourself for others. And they’re not worth it Sana. Anyone who can’t respect you for who you are, they’re not worth your time and consideration.”

Sana rubs her cheek against her mom’s palm. “Are you disappointed in me Mama? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything sooner I wanted to it’s just…”

“We can talk about all that tomorrow. Right now, I just want you to realize that this isn’t your fault Sana. Sometimes I look at you and see so much of myself that it scares me. Like me, you have a tendency to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders without making a sound, and that’s not the way it should be. It’s not normal. I’m happy you finally talked to me Sana, promise me you’ll never shut me out again?”

She nods and falls back into her mother’s embrace. “I promise Mama, I promise.”

“Then know that I’m here for you, always my love.”

And Sana knows that she’ll be fine. She’ll face everything that tomorrow has to offer with a brave heart and a strong mind.

But tonight, in her mother mother’s arms, she’s allowed to be sad. Tonight she’ll work through the grief and she’ll begin to heal.

Tonight she’s sad and that’s okay.