#i am extremely french in the sense that i fucking love cheese. especially cheese that smells fucking terrible

[aromanticannibal]

hand feeding u cheeses

nom nom nom nom nom

[spiltscribbles]

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

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

.-

The FIC this HC is from 

.-

So first off some background on his mum in the story 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ok so sadness warning

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

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

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

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

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

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

[yakumtsaki]

Well, well, well, look who’s back with the most morally repugnant update in Union history. Me. It’s been a very productive summer of Netflix, chill and giving wrong directions to tourists but all good things must come to an end. Also coming to an end is my ill-fated attempt to kill Max, who, after refusing to eat the cake FOR 2 FUCKING DAYS is finally released from the cage of death. Honestly, I’m impressed, Max, you’re definitely not as stupid as you look.

-Yea, I get that a lot.

I doubt that but whatever, now gtfo and I better not see your Komei-clone ass around Jojo ever again or it’s back in prison for you!

-So, Jojo, not that we’re not all extremely invested in the excruciating selection process of your husband, but are you any closer to picking one?? I mean I love this whole commune thing we have going but the constant food delivery for 8 is killing us.

-We’re afraid not, dear brother, it’s starting to look like no one in this world is worthy of our majesty.

Ugh are we really doing royal ‘we’ now? Is this what this has come to?

-Yes, college has really helped develop our sense of self-worth.

How can it be self-worth if you’re ‘we’?

-This is exactly the kind of idiotic questioning that would get you eliminated from the suitor process. 

Oh, perish the thought! And miss out on this classical-music-dick-measuring-contest you have them doing?

-Ew seriously, Francis, Vivaldi? Why don’t you turn up to Justin Bieber while you’re at it.

Man, what a zinger! Good times. JOJO PICK A FUCKING DUDE ALREADY SO I CAN MOVE THE OTHERS OUT THE LOT IS LAGGY AS SHIT

-I lost the dick measuring contest and my punishment is sleeping on the couch.

KILL HIM IN HIS SLEEP MELODY

-Maybe later, Real Housewives of Pleasantview is on, Cassandra is getting dragged for the pigtails!!

-Ha, look at this Vivaldi-listening losér! Point at him and laugh, everyone!

-Who’s laughing now, bitch? Not you with that hoof right in your French-whore mouth!

-Ugh, aren’t you late for the beans-on-toast feast, you limey piece of merde?

Not since the 100 Years War have French-British tensions ran this high. Of course that one was for a throne, while this one..

-Is for something far more important.. Our heart.

LMAO Jojo please be serious, you don’t have a heart.

-We absolutely do and it’s made out of pure gold.

Yea I guess, I mean gold is a metal after all! 

-Do you really think you should be eating decaying Chinese food, mon cheri? You’re going to need a soda to digest it and you know it’s too cold for your teeth!

-Wyatt, I don’t pay you to think, I pay you to sit across from me and look pretty, and occasionally to scooch down next to me so I look taller.

-You actually don’t pay me at all.

-Yes and obviously I’m getting my money’s worth.

Wow Jojo tone it down, your gold heart is shinning so brightly I’m gonna go blind!

Precious Gunther has added three new addictions to his existing sex one! A) working out in this atrocious outfit.

B) blowing bubbles from dawn to dusk.

and c) and the most disturbing one, constantly being alone in enclosed spaces with his brother’s intended, Brit Brit. At first I wasn’t too worried about it, thinking Brit is a popularity sim so it’s only natural..but then..

I SEE THIS. GODDAMMIT GUNTHER WHY MUST YOU HAVE CHEMISTRY WITH EVERYONE

-Man idk, it’s almost supernatural. Blame it on God ;)

UGH I don’t even know who I hate more, your whore ass-

-or this fucking llama that hasn’t gone home in 3 days and is eating all our pizza. 

-I just feel so accepted here, like I’m part of the family, you know? 

GET OUT

Speaking of furries, not even the cow will approach the fucking cowplant, jfc. I mean you’d expect some kind of kinship there but nop. Great job Jojo, you killed a dozen secret society members for a defective cowplant.

-Mooo :(

I don’t know which one of you did that but stfu, I can’t anymore with this flop ass household!!!1

ANYWAY back to Brit and Daniel, it seems like my Gunther concerns were baseless, since these two remain eternally into each other, always autonomously doing cute crap.

-Oh Daniel, let me serenade you with the song of your people!  

The kings made us drunk with fumes, peace among us, war to the tyrants! Let the armies go on strike, stocks in the air, and break ranks. If they insist, these cannibals on making heroes of us, they will know soon that our bullets are for our own generals  ♪

ROMANCE ISN’T DEAD

In other news, allow me to present you all with Melody’s personality panel. I was under the false impression that being the child of Wanda and Stephen she was.. nice?? But nop, total Union freak material! We hit the jackpot once again. Now her best friendship with bitch Brit makes total sense.

-Honestly girl, this janky ass house is such a step down from the sorority, I spend half the day thinking of ways to peace out.

-Ugh I know, I was on the fence at first but can you really put a price on good d?

-Aw, what are my beautiful hens cackling about? May I join?

-No.

-I was about to make a math joke but I doubt you gals would get it, amirite? As Barbie said, math is hard!

- I’m a literal math major.

-Oh I know, Mel, good for you! Affirmative action works wonders!

KILL HIM AND HIS HAREM WE DON’T NEED THE LAG

It’s another day in paradise. Daniel has finally cracked and gone full Komei, autonomously cleaning shit even though we have a maid..

Melody ate a ton of burnt grilled cheese and is non-stop throwing up..

AND THIS BULLSHIT IS STILL GOING ON. STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE

-What?? We’re just talking, GAWD

No you’re not “””just talking””” you’re gossiping and doing sexy whispers, I KNOW YOUR TRICKS GUNTHER-

-I don’t mean to interrupt but I think you’re focusing on the wrong issue here?

OH AM I?? DO TELL

-LOOK OUTSIDE BITCH

Nice try whores, nothing is happening outside-

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. WHAT. 

-That’s right, Ti-Ning and I are in love now!

............................FRAN THIS BETTER BE SOME DRY ASS BRITISH HUMOR 

-Nop! We got tired of waiting for Jojo and we decided the best way to handle it was to suddenly make out in front of him even tho we have never even flirted before!

THIS LITERALLY CANNOT BE HAPPENING

-Well it is, so best accept it and we can all move on :)

Oh yea certainly, I mean if anything Jojo is known for his ability to forgive and forget!

See the ghost of Ti-Ning indeed! Finally a wish Jojo and I share. 

TI-NING OMFG THIS LACK OF SHAME

-Haha!!! Finally I’m free to be as gross as I want >:) 

Well.. enjoy it while it lasts.

-The hell does that mean??

Nothing, just you know, none of us know when our time will come.. only that it will. The curse of human existence, one might say. Only we among the animal world know that we will die. Memento mori, Ti-Ning. And we will memento you. 

-..Yea, maybe it’s time I move out?

I mean, you can try..

..but like the curse from It Follows, it follows. It being Jojo. How you holding up boo?

-Oh, I’m great, can’t you tell?

You know what might help? Some of your beloved homework! Do something useful, get your mind off this stuff..

“Sending The First Human to Mercury and Leaving Him There: A Very Specific Space Exploration Proposal” 

-Jojό!! I’m writing about how I finally won your heart but please don’t look, I’m gonna read this at our wedding!

-Yea I literally couldn’t care less about you and your thoughts/feelings/etc, what was left of my heart is dead and gone and now there’s only a black hole there.. Oh we could also send Ti-Ning to a black hole if Mercury doesn’t work. Nice.

-UGH how are you even still alive and breathing the same air as me and not dead from shame like you should be, you vile adulteress???

-OH PLEASE you’re just mad cause Fran and I realized we can do better than your mega-jaw ass. If not for the endless supply of bubbles around here blurring our vision this would have happened weeks ago!

-I’m going to strangle you in your sleep and my jaw will be the last thing you see.

-Your jaw would be the last thing I saw even if I died on the moon.

-MAYBE YOU WILL

.....................well I guess it’s official then. And if the above didn’t seal it..

..this definitely did. God have mercy on me, what a shitshow.

While Tin and Fran are woohooing, Jojo attempts to end his troubles once and for all by running out of the house and into a thunder fire. Thankfully the rain puts it out quickly and all we’re left with is critically low hygiene. 

Man, serving Penguin teas! You have the entire look down, Jo. I’d tell you to audition for Gotham but that’s extremely bad career advice

-Oh god, I almost died!!!! 

Aw I know, but don’t worry you’re safe now <3

-No I mean I came so close but didn’t make it.. :(

Jojo please, if anything, live to kill Ti-Ning and Francis. You owe it to yourself.

As soon as Fran and Tin are done, guess who rushes in to gossip next to the bed. ISTG YOU ASSHOLES, BREAK IT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT THAT WINDOW

-Whatever, we’d just land on Jojo trying to set himself on fire.

-LOL oh Brit you’re so funny!

I HATE THIS HOUSE

-HAD FUN, DID WE YOU SLUT

-Get him, Jojό!

Honestly Wyatt, I get being supportive but I’m really starting to worry about you, even demeaning yourself has its limits..

..especially since Jojo continues to be a massive freakshow. Good lord.

-Oh Francis, don’t tell Wyatt cause you know how he gets, but your total disregard for my existence is making me see you in a whole new, hot, light..

Man, good thing Wyatt isn’t standing 3 steps away from you!

Oh yes, loving this dinner. An ocean between us..

-I wouldn’t eat that third slice if I was you, Ti-Ning. Your funeral day is fast approaching, don’t you want to look nice for it? 

-Well you’ll be there so it doesn’t matter, everyone will be looking at your jaw.

Yes, what a wonderful night. Now let’s all go to bed and hopefully everyone will have calmed down a little by tomorrow!

LMAO yea idk what I was thinking.

-Strangle me in my sleep? How about I strangle you in broad daylight???

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but.. poor Jojo. Not only did he get his ass beat, but to literally add insult to the injury-

-everyone is lusting after Gunther during his defeat. Jfc, I’d want to set myself on fire too.

Oh here we go, Gunther to the rescue! 

-How dare you beat up my brother even though he attacked you first? Prepare to die!

-Whatever, I’ve been preparing for that for the last couple days!

Aw, Gunther is such a good brother/giant loser depending on the outcome of this fight.

VINDICATION. Bravo, Gunther, defending our non-existent family honor!

Daniel, in true Daniel fashion, slept through this entire shitshow, which might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

Oop, spoke too soon. Say what you want about Gunther and Daniel but man do they both love Jojo! Truly god knows why.

-So Brit, you’re studying poli-sci, can you think of a peaceful resolution to this? Haha!

-YOU STFU TI-NING MY FINALS ARE TODAY MY GPA IS ALREADY IN THE TOILET AND NOW IM GONNA FLOP CAUSE YOU ASSHOLES SPENT THE WHOLE NIGHT FUCKING AND THE WHOLE DAY FIGHTING AND I HAVEN’T SLEPT AT ALL DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL I’M GONNA BURN THIS PLACE TO THE FUCKING GROUND IF YOU TRY ME

Well, you might not need to Brit! WHAT IS UP WITH THIS HYPER-FLAMMABLE CACTUS

Brit returns from her finals with a free pizza! How’d you do, Brit?

-Saved by the nightie again!

NOICE. Got a freebie pizza from it too?

-No, I found it in the garbage. My gift to Francis and Ti-Ning for their 3 day anniversary! 

Jojo’s official greek house portrait coming along nicely! Wow he looks very majestic..

..Instagram vs Real Life.

-Bowling is so satisfying if you pretend the pins are your former lovers’ genitals!

Whatever coping method works for you boo!

Gunther and Ti-Ning are officially enemies which is hilarious because not even Jojo is enemies with him?? Follow your bliss, Guns!

In an impressive display of brotherly synchronicity we have double slapping across the room. Double the slapping for half the time, Jojo is as always a true capitalist.

JOJO!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON! So proud of my baby <3 I’m ofc kidding, this shit has gotten old really fast and I extremely feel Brit watching uninterested. ENOUGH  

HARD MOOD. Brit is honestly on another level than the rest of us basics. What an icon.

For some reason I bothered to fulfill Ti-Ning’s want to learn that relationship maintenance or w/e lifetime skill (talk about money down the drain) and the irony of this pop up text almost sent me to an early grave. And we know who’s going to an early grave today..

IT’S CAKE TIME. REACH OUT, TI-NING. YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT

FINALLY. GOODBYE FIGHTING AND INSANE LAG

JESUS JOJO. STONE. COLD.

Ice Cube would like to say, that I'm a crazy muthafucka from around the way, since I was a youth, I smoked weed out, now I'm the muthafucka that ya read about, takin' a life or two, that's what the hell I do, you don't like how I'm livin well fuck you ♪

Wyatt and Brit were on their way to react to Ti-Ning’s little accident but somehow got sidetracked and are now randomly arguing on the porch. Honestly I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, I’ve lost all control of this household.

Jojo rushes over to celebrate Ti-Ning’s demise by immediately slapping the shit out of his grieving lover! Whenever you think we can’t possibly sink any lower, think again. Like right now, after the slapping, are you thinking we can’t sink any lower?????????????????????????????

THINK. AGAIN.

ARE YOU SCREAMING? CAUSE I DID

YUP THIS IS HAPPENING

IT’S REAL

IT’S. REAL. THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH CURSE WORDS IN ANY LANGUAGE TO EXPRESS MY FEELINGS

FUCK YOU FRANCIS. FUCK. YOU. YOU’RE GETTING MURDERED SO FUCKING HARD YOU UNBELIEVABLE ASSHOLE. I’M FUCKING DONE. JOJO YOU’RE GONNA DIE ALONE TIME FOR ALL OF US TO ACCEPT THAT REALITY. WE STARTED OUT WITH 3 CANDIDATES AND ENDED UP HERE. HOW THE EVERLOVING FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN FRANCIS AND WYATT HAVE. 1 BOLT. ONE. WYATT IS A FAMILY SIM I’M SO PISSED OFF I NEED TO TAKE A MOMENT

OK. In my 10 years of playing I have never wanted to quit without saving more than with this bullshit. Look at fucking Fran’s smug ass face and moron Wyatt putting on an Oscar worthy performance of shock and regret. YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID NO, YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE HOME WYATT. What the FUCK are we gonna do now???? I guess good thing Max Flexor survived the cage of death. GOD.DAMMIT

[onceuponabookblr]

82 Truths!

I was tagged by @theprintedgirl!  Thank you so much for tagging me!

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, write a post with 82 truths about yourself and then tag 25 people

My Favourites:

Animal: Pomeranians

Colour: Lilac/millennial pink

Drink:Almost any bubble tea

Food: Macaroni and cheese

Time of year: My favorite holiday time is Christmas but my favorite season is spring!

Films: Amelie, Good Will Hunting, The Piano, probably La La Land, and loads of others! 

Book: Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware, The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak, Hunger by Roxane Gay, and loads of others!

Subject in school: World History

Flower: Peonies

Fruit: Mangoes

About Me:

I’m 22

I work at an institute which trains people in foreign affairs careers. 

I live in Washington, DC, U..S. of A

I have a BA in International Studies (which I got in 3 years instead of 4, which ended up being a great decision)

I am originally from a rural town in Western New York (with a population of only about 1,500 people, a Native American reservation, and a sizable Amish population - YES, I AM STILL TALKING ABOUT NEW YORK AND NOT SAY, INDIANA).

I speak intermediate level Mandarin and lived in Beijing, China for a semester abroad.

I am biologically an only child but I’m very close to my step family, in which I am the middle child with both one older and one younger step-brother.

I really love stories which is why I love reading so much, in addition to being a huge cinephile.  

I wanted to be a writer for my whole life until I was 16, when I realized I could put my love of studying world history and cultures toward diplomacy one day. I still really want to be a writer and write a book.

I curated a Twitter account for an American ambassador a few years ago.  It was really insightful how many revisions I had to pass by people before just a 180 character tweet could be posted, let alone a statement or interview remarks.

Most recent:

Phone call: Momma

Text: My best friend

Food: I got delivery from this burger restaurant I love.  It’s shoestring French fries covered in parmesan cheese, scallions, an over easy egg, and chipotle mayo.  I had a particularly busy day at work (this is our busiest time of the year) and thought I would treat myself.

Drink: Water

Book: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Purchase: The french fries I discussed in Answer #3

Song I listened to: Probably “Look What You Made Me Do” by Taylor Swift.  I’m not sure I like it but it’s catchy as hell.

Reason to be excited: I interviewed for a promotion last week and am waiting to hear back!

TV show: THE BOLD TYPE, you guys.  I love it.

Obsession: Books!

Memories:

Happiest: When I was 17 I attended a college prep program for honors students at Boston University.  I made my first lifelong friends and got to experience living outside my 1,500 person town for the first time.  It was major culture shock in the best way.  

Saddest: My mom has a chronic illness and it hurts me whenever I see her in extreme pain or in the hospital again.

Strangest: Well I guess this is recent: Last night I had a dream I was watching a movie in which Matt Damon purposely got stuck in an elevator and spent the whole time trying to get out.  I woke up at 4 AM this morning because of it and it took me about an hour to get back to sleep because I wasn’t comfortable with how claustrophobic my bed felt.

Scariest: I almost drowned in a kayak when I was learning how to get out of whitewater kayak gear.  

Funniest: On a July trip in California with my family, we were talking about people with eating disorders for some reason and the Google version of Alexa on my step-dad’s phone was activated somehow, but since the phone was also navigating us in the car, it couldn’t search anything.  So it just goes, “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with anorexic women.”  It’s one of those occurrences where it might of been just way funnier in the moment than describing the whole thing.

Exciting: Putting my entire life in two suitcases and moving to China.

Proudest: As I said earlier, 3 years instead of 4 for my BA, fuck yeah.

Boring: At my college, students had to take a lot of economics classes in order to major in international studies. Not titillating stuff.

Biggest Fears

Dying

Roller coasters

Failure

Kidnapping

Do scary movies count?  lol

Excited for in Life:

Travelling more abroad

Making more friends with new interests, ideas, and cultural backgrounds

Finding a lovahhh

Becoming a diplomat

Having a kid (or kids, who knows)

Eating really expensive food (I’m kind of a foodie)

Reading great books

I am always…

Checking my email

Reading

Overthinking EVERYTHING

Doing something dumb on my phone

Messaging my mom

Looking at Bookstagrams and being like “How? HOWWW?  HOW ARE THESE PICTURES ALL SO AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL AND DETAILED?”

Telling myself I won’t have something with chocolate in it...then eating something with chocolate in it.

Checking the news and weather.

Going over different paths my life could take

Messaging my friends the most random shit.

I wish I was, and I eventually will be…

A diplomat!

More organized

Confident and self-assured

Better at managing money

A speed reader

CHARMING!

...AND ALSO SUPER HILARIOUS IN AN EFFORTLESS WAY

Talented at doing anything with my hair

A published author

A self proclaimed bad-ass bitch

Favourite Things about Myself:

I am a very nice and open person, although I am a little shy at first  

I am incredibly opinionated and often get a little too ranty, but a ton of people love me for it.

Cute butt.

I’m fiercely intelligent, especially when it comes to knowing random information.

I’m very good at styling/designing things. I’ve got an artistic eye.

I try to encourage people and use my sense of humor to the best of my ability in that.

My steadfast belief in universal values/what’s right.

I always want to go to new places.

I seek out knowledge wherever I go.

Finally, my blog…

It makes me so happy!  It has been a relief to come here when my days have felt monotonous.

Is both artistic and wordy; particular to some books but generic in its love of reading culture in general - it’s very me.

Needs a selfie of me with some books but I’m feeling camera shy at the moment.

This is not quite 25 so I’m sorry but...now to tag some of my favorite people I’ve either interacted with or want to interact with more on Booklr: @spiritedgalaxies @gracemccaull @-outofcontext- @blackgirlslit @the-bookler @book-loving-trash @thebookrose @readerreaderpumpkineater @tatithetinybooktuber @partiallybooks @readcreate @gingerbookblogger @fearlessly-fictional @brianamorganbooks-deactivated20 @teachingliteracy @theheartthatyoucall-home @lulalandrys @everybodywantssomecupcake @firebendingpadme @literaryqueen20 @pagesinmylife

[ilyashrayber]

The Mission

  When I first entered high school, I knew absolutely nothing. No work ethic, no plans, and perhaps most alarming, almost no friends to speak of. I was so young, and yet, it felt like the world was already closing in around me, as if some metaphorical caution tape was already cropping up on things I wanted to do and people I wanted to meet. I had no knowledge of what was around me, and even more so, it felt like I never would. But as you get older, things start to change, and you feel more and more doors open up, one after the other, in a way that could only make sense with the passage of time. If I’m coming off as vague, it is because it’s hard for someone like myself to specify exact moments when you feel validated, satisfied, and as if you’ve broken away from an almost self-imposed mental barrier. But if there was a place that embodied the transition from the timid, smelly, and raggedy boy I was to the slightly less timid, smelly, and raggedy man (by Jewish law) I am today, it would be the Mission District.

I would be remiss to bring up the Mission without addressing the growing, all-encompassing wave of change that is hitting it right now. What used to be a primarily Latinx community comprised of families, artists, and blue collar workers has been all but washed away by white software engineers in search of some strange, exoticized concept of ‘urban grit’ and ‘authenticity’. Where there once were family owned groceries, optometrists, and photo studios, I now see exorbitant pre-fixe menus, ‘organic’ clothing stores, and the occasional (read: extremely common) misuse of local history to sell me something. I am exhausted, and I don’t even live there. Additionally, the privilege of being a cis, white man is something that makes me just at fault when I do not speak up as those who are actively destroying a piece of what makes this city so dynamic. It is a tricky tightrope to walk on, and the best thing people like myself can do is listen, and help when asked, whether that is giving our time, money, or a mix of the two to help preserve the integrity, and magic, of the Mission.

 I remember the first time I ever had a sleepover. It wasn’t with the kid next door to me, or at a birthday party, or even in the first 14 years of my life. Instead, my first sleepover happened in my freshman year of high school. This isn’t super uncommon among children of immigrants, but nonetheless, I felt like I was missing a key piece of the American experience. When it came to mind, before I actually went to one, I had, like most things, romanticized each and every single aspect of a sleepover. I had imagined a world where we would get to the house, only to be greeted by plates of fresh grapes, served to us on priceless marble while enjoying French brut in tall glasses. Instead, we made eggs at midnight and drank Tropicana Orange Peach Mango (henceforth known as ‘OPM’) straight from the carton. In place of sampling liquors from around the world and discussing literature, we downed Kirin Ichiban and talked about girls from our high school we would definitely want to go out with but definitely would have no idea what we would even begin to do if we ever did. Usually crouched down, in the basement, trying to stealthily sip our brew while an adult was upstairs. All this happened in a Victorian on the corner of 27th and Guerrero, a house purchased by my friend’s father for $70,000 right when he got out of the Navy in the 1970’s. It had four bedrooms, an insane kitchen leading out into the backyard, and a circular top floor window, one situated right above the bed of my friend who would always invite me over. It was through this window that I had witnessed car break-ins, smelled the waft of burritos only a couple blocks over, and totally messed with other people trying to get in at the front door. They are good, sacred memories that put a smile on my face when I remember them, both in their quality and the sheer quantity that I have of them.

 The Victorian sat on the cusp of Noe Valley and the Mission, leaning more to the former when you went east and more to the latter when you went west. And boy, did we go west a lot. We would often leave the house at night, with no plan at all, burnt out from playing video games, and simply walk down Mission Street trying to process what it was we were seeing as little baby birds sprouting their wings for the first time. People were out drinking and dancing, the air had a palpable energy to it, and it seemed as if everything was right with the world. It was a sensation I knew I wouldn’t have for a long time, but I wanted it anyway. Street vendors, taquerias, and the only CEX in the city were the main draws, but it was the friendly faces, life experience, and exposure to cultures outside our own that really made us want to stay.

  The stretch of 24th Street that begins on Mission and ends on Potrero is perhaps my favorite dozen or so blocks in the city. It has everything anyone could need, ever. Casa Lucas is the exclusive grocery store I shop at when my folks are out of town and I’m calling the shots, and believe me, it’s worth every penny of the Muni fare I feel disillusioned to pay. The fruits and veggies there taste better than any trustfund soulcycle hayes valley bullshit they’re trying to feed you over at Whole Foods, and at a fraction of the price. Plus, they’re the only grocery in the city I’ve found that stocks the very specific kind of kola I’ve become dependant on, imported all the way from Oaxaca. When I say that this kola fucked up my world, I am being modest in the effect it had on me.. I don’t even know the name of it, but I reach for the stuff everytime I’m on 24th because it has that kind of hold on me. Days get brighter, and nights get longer, whenever I feel the sweet, smooth liquid gold pass through me. Anyways. Moving on. Not only does 24th have the most kick-ass grocery in the entire world, they also have maybe the best cheap seafood ever, in the form of Basa Express. Ignore the sign that was made in Microsoft Paint. Appreciate the fact that this is a no frills, what you see is what you get kind of seafood place where you can grab a freshly made California roll for 5 dollars. With ceviche and sashimi being just a little bit more than that, it’s a refreshing change of pace from the recent increase of trendy seafood places with exposed wood and vintage buoys hanging everywhere. There is no exposed wood here. There is no old photo of a ship captain the owner bought on eBay. There is no lengthy description of how the fish lived and died along with a short obituary. It is just good, cheap seafood that you can feel good about eating.

 Walk up and down 24th and you’ll realize the plethora of people and places that feel like hidden gems, but have been there all along. I stand by Humphry Slocombe as the best ice cream in the city, while the vast majority of my friends cry out in support of Mitchell’s, another place that is very good but in no way a competitor to Humphry and his offerings. The classic at Humphry’s is to walk in, have no idea what you want, and then have the young college kids behind the counter begrudgingly ask if you want a sample. That is just the way it works. If I can just be bougie for one second here; they have a Wine & Cheese flavor. And it’s delicious. If this is the hill I die on, so be it. After a nice little ice cream break, I like to peruse the various cultural offerings, in the forms of records and books that 24th has to offer. I always have to walk into Pyramid Records, which, dare I say, is the most finely curated selection of wax in the entire Bay Area. Is there a huge selection? No. Do they have deep discounts and unbeatable prices? Not really. But is there a dude behind the counter who compliments my sneakers everytime I’m there? Yes. There is. For myself, Pyramid has a beautiful mix of international, lounge, and soundtracks on vinyl, which just so happen to be some of my favorite genres in music. It’s all designed in a super clean, minimalist-but-nowhere-near-boring type of aesthetic. I feel like I’m in a music video for a bedroom pop artist when I’m in there, and that’s all I could ever ask for. When talking about literature however, it’s hard to beat Alley Cat, a big bookstore with a gallery and event space in the back. I’ve picked up some of my favorite graphic novels from this spot, and their mystery section makes me feel good. Adobe Books a few blocks up is great too, and it sports a much more intimate setting for falling in love with any number of books, local or not. I’ve seen many a performance inside of Adobe, ranging from Chicana poetry, all the way to a solo performance from the bassist for Real Estate. Great books, great vibe, and it always feels nice to support a place that feels like an institution. For any bookstore, that should be a slam dunk. And it is. Usually directly into my wallet.

  There are tons of other great places on 24th, especially if you’re into just sitting down and having a good time. There’s the OG Philz, a coffee shop with perhaps the comfiest furniture in any cafe, and Haus, half a block down, where I may or may not have a crush on every single female barista that works there. Again, this is unconfirmed. I would really love to recommend Wise Son’s, a jewish deli with an insane breakfast salad, but every since I took edibles right before I ate there and thought I was in 1920s New Orleans, it has been a tough sell. They have a very nice restroom, however, that they’ll let you use if you ask nicely. St. Francis Fountain, a diner nearing the very end of 24th, has the best pancakes in the city. I am sorry but everyone got together and voted on it, and there will be no recount. Whether chocolate chip, banana, or even, dare I say, vegan, these guys are a home run every. Single. Time. It is almost uncanny how good they are, and are the definition of a food that is ‘good for the soul and not so much the love hips.’ Lastly, when you come up on Mission, you’ll no doubt see a line going out the door for the much beloved El Farolito. If you ask me? It’s good, but it’s definitely not my favorite. I try to explain it in terms of ice cream flavors. When you take your kid to go get ice cream, you always start with vanilla. There’s a reason it’s the default, you know? Well rounded, satisfying, and very inoffensive. I feel the exact same about El Farolito. (Cue the thinkpieces attacking me.) It is the vanilla ice cream of taquerias. My favorite, however, is also in fact on 24th, and it goes by the name of Taqueria Guadalajara. More salsa options, less rice, and juicier meat is what drives me to make this almost sacrilegious decision. Plus, there’s never a line. And that in and of itself should be celebrated.

   The Mission is so, so many things. But most of all, it is not mine. And it’s probably not yours, either. I simply play, and for a little bit, worked there. There is so much to celebrate about this neighborhood, and so, so much that we as a city should try to preserve, even if it considered by many to be ground zero for gentrification. Be respectful. Think about your actions. How will this affect others? If you live there, try broadening it to a macro level. How will this affect my community, one that is already going through an incredible amount of change, and the heartbreak that comes with that? What can I do to make things better? Always say thank you, and respect those that came before you. These seem obvious, but it’s easy to forget with everything going on. At the end of the day, I like to hang out in the Mission, and I bet you, the reader, probably do too. So let’s just try and not be complete asshats about what we choose to do in a community that is experiencing an immense shift, both culturally and economically. Let’s just try and be a little better next time we’re there.