#Afro-Asian Cup | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imagineredwood · 4 years ago

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Hey babe. I don't want you to put too much into it because we already expect too much from POC to begin with but can you give me just a simple small handful of things that you absolutely don't want to see in fanfic?

I had a post like this already but I couldn’t find it because tumblr is trash so here we are 😂

I understand that being vague can be difficult because it’s difficult for me, but being too specific can really throw things off if the person reading doesn’t fit your description. For instance, I knew I had a certain vision when it came to the story I wanted to do for Camila and I didn’t want to have to cut things out and leave out those details that really paint the picture. I do reader inserts all the time. That’s what I do. Literally 90% of my work is reader inserts, maybe even more. I’ve created a name for myself here by doing that, so that’s what the bulk of my work is, but I also want to show what other things I can do. Show how well I can paint a picture and tell a story. You can’t do that as well when the reader has no attributes. So that being said

Don’t mention the “readers” hair color/length/texture etc. “Flowing blonde hair”

Don’t mention the reader's skin tone/color/texture

Don’t mention their height/weight/body type or build

Don’t throw in backstory like “your 5 siblings” “Growing up without a mom” “coming from an abusive home” things like that. You may relate, other’s don’t

Don’t substitute Daddy with Papi. We’ve been over this a million times

It's very easy to see which writer is writing something self-indulgent and just trying to pass it off as a reader insert. And writing self-indulgent work is fine! It’s great! Sometimes self-indulgent work comes out the best! I never thought that Cam’s story would make it as far as it did because I created her out of thin air and she’s not actually real, yet people have really enjoyed it because it came from the heart. It was something I created that made me happy and it showed, so people love it just like I do. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea and that’s ok but a good amount of people have really enjoyed the story.

But to label something as ______ x reader, and then describe yourself or your OC, that’s not how this works. You’re lying to people, whether you want to see it that way or not. And there are also other subtle nuances that people sometimes don’t even realize that they’re doing. Keep in mind that:

Dark-skinned or black people don’t blush. They feel the heat, but their face doesn’t “turn pink”. Instead, try saying “They felt the heat rise to their cheeks and ears” Same thing for light or dark skin, but you’re not excluding anyone who can’t physically have pink cheeks

Certain hair lengths/textures or curl patterns don't just let you run your fingers through their hair. Someone with 4c hair can’t have that done as easily as someone with straight hair. Someone with no hair can’t either, or someone with a protective style.

Not every Latino is Mexican. If someone asks for a Latinx reader and they don’t specify, don’t start going off about elotes and family in Juarez when that might not be where they’re from. There's a shitload of Latin American countries, Mexico isn’t the only one. Of course, you can’t include every single culture, so don’t. Just use some Spanish if you know any, maybe family dynamics, things like that.

Not everyone’s nipples are pink. Fair-skinned people have pink nipples, and not even all of them. Black, Latina, Asian, women usually tend to have brown nipples. Some lighter, some darker, but not “pretty pink” Associating pink nipples with being the pretty ones is a microaggression in itself.

Afro-Latinos exist. Just because someone asked for a Latina reader, doesn’t automatically make her medium skinned. Dark-skinned Latinos are real and it isn’t fair to count them out. So unless the reader requested a lighter skinned latina, don’t just do that on your own

Don’t be too hard on yourself if you have done these things. Hell, I’ve written things that excluded MYSELF 😂 When I first started here there was no Mayans MC, it was just SOA and we know how that went. So I always felt like if I didn’t cater to the people who looked like the main characters, I wouldn’t do well. It’s not that I’m comfortable in my own skin and got no problem writing about people that look like me. But I’ve found things like “you blushed” in my own writing when I first started and that excludes darker-skinned people. I’ve tried to correct it in any piece that I find, but I’ve done a lot of work and I don’t have the time to go through every single piece.

If anyone ever finds something that is not inclusive like that, please let me know. There are somethings that I will have to leave because we are all different and there are some things that I won’t be able to include every single person. But something like that where I did the above if you find it let me know which story. I know they’re out there because I’ve found and corrected some myself. I’m not saying I’m perfect and I don’t expect anyone else to do. What I do expect is for people to try. Once you’ve been made aware, don’t brush it off. Address it. If you don’t, that’s your right, but then don’t complain that people don’t read your stuff and you don’t get as much positive feedback as other writers.

It’s nice that you bother to ask babe. The more we can educate people, the more inclusive this space will become❣️

#tagged so it doesn’t disappear again #writing poc #writing advice

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popsicle-parfait · 3 years ago

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This is the second time I've had this dream and I feel like it'll be a recurring thing despite how fart apart the timeframe from both dreams are. Let me start from the beginning because this shit is freaky and I've never had the same dream more than once before so I'm not sure if this is a weird omen or sumn shit but I feel like this could be a weird story plot. So just listen, Kay?

The first dream started out simple it was me on the streets of somewhere just out jumping from roof to roof and greeting the kids around the neighborhood. Remember it's been a long time since the first dream so excuse me for not remembering all of it but I get into some sort of pickle where I can't defend myself from a fellow street kid and this person swoops in and help me out, saying things like "this is our turf" and "I'll beat you up if you come back here again". Then after the two of us get acquainted a bit more the person invites me to their "gang" (I'm saying it in quotation marks because the whole thing is run by street kids for street kids and the adults almost never seem present in these dreams so I'm assuming all of this shit is like, secret) and takes me to this beige colored building. When we climb a few ladders and crawl through a window there's this beautiful house interior with creme walls and a ballpit in like the back corner of the room but you'll never believe who I see there! There are like, 5-6 people in total, two Asian kids- a boy and a girl (I think they're siblings), there's one afro-latina girl who's named Naomi (she comes back which is why she has a name I think), and RANBOO!? He's sitting there in the middle on a couch with his usual attire but he was wearing a pink sparkly Letterman jacket with rhinestones all over it and the back said their group name it on it! That's another thing too, they all were wearing some variation of a uniform (there were things like accessories too, one of the siblings had a pink headband to go with their jacket). After a while of getting to know the members around me (I think we time skipped like a month of sumn ) I then myself got one of those special jackets before strolling down the streets with Naomi and there's where the first one comes off.

So that was already a lot to unpack but I just had the second one so let me tell you about this one because it has more detail.

So Naomi and I were walking down the street holding snacks for our group, I in particular had a big bag full of popcorn and we passed by this groups of kid that are partying until this dude tries to grab my popcorn from my hands and that's when I go MAD. I tell him that he shouldn't be taking my shit from me the way that he did and he straight up sassed me so I jump on his back out of anger! There was this girl with him holding a cup of red soda and she jumps up on top of naomi in retaliation, saying that I better get off one of her people before she does something to my friend. We both eventually get off after a round of bickering and trash talk when suddenly this boy walks to us (I think he might be somewhere around 12-16 cuz he didn't look like anyone else around us) and whispers to the girl who I figured out was Diane. They seemed to have a relationship with eachother and he's escorting her back somewhere before I hear "I hope you know that if I see you again, it's gonna be a problem" and they're gone. When I got back to our clubhouse I talked to the group about it and the conversation went something like this " and I jumped on Diane's boyfriend or something" " dude that's nuts! You jumped on Caesar!" "wait, was his black haired, had big lips?" "No, but thank god it wasn't him! You did attack someone from their posse tho!". The twins then started to show us their dance routine as a celebration for showing one of the big bad what's what.

So, here's some ideas I got from the new dream:

I think the group's so some type of underground dancing/performances to battle against each other. Based on the twins weird breakdancing I'm guessing that performing is our specialty in particular. I also think that since all of us are under 18 and kids that's really one of the only ways we can fight eachother and solve our conflicts.

There are tiers to the kids in The Neighborhood; Kids, Teens, and Elders. Kids are like 7th grade and younger (9-5), Teens are sophomores to 8th graders (16-10), and Elders are people 18 and younger (18-17). Once you hit full adulthood you have two choices, you either graduate by choice and have your memories slowly erased at a ceremony (you keep some of them as privilege/remembrance) or you have all memories of The Neighborhood be wiped clean to avoid problems of it being discovered in the future.

If you were to tell an adult about The Neighborhood they would shrug you off and wouldn't believe you. There are very few adults who still have glimpses of The Neighborhood in their minds and the ones that do mix it up as "stuff I used to do when I was your age".

The Neighborhood is basically the streets and alleyways, empty parking lots, parks, etc. But the different streets and areas are apart of which faction you came from. I will do more world building on this one so you could get the gist of it!

Each faction must have at least one Elder to help guide those about the group they're in and what faction they're apart of (mine was the person that showed me in, apparently Ranboo was the newest member before I came in).

Kids without uniforms are classified as choicers since they haven't been added to a group yet and those who don't want to be apart of one or don't have one are called outsiders.

Things like skateboards and heelys are used as means of transportation for those who live far or are apart of the trading business.

Lastly, I'm gonna call this AU the Streetlights AU and if you want to hear more about it just let me know. I have a bunch more concepts and ideas I'm gonna send in soon so stay posted! If you guys have any ideas yourself or want to add onto it just let me know what you think!

#technoblade mcyt #mcytblr #mcyt #tubbo mcyt #dream mcyt #dream team #dsmp wilbur #dsmp tubbo #dream smp #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #headcanon #sleepy bois inc #beeduo #bedrock bros #pogtopia #philza #lmanburg #bench trio

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mooshisart · 3 years ago

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My artistry

Ive realized alot about myself recently due to a very bad decision ive made that made everyone abandon me. And in a way im extremely grateful. This rough patch in my life is teaching me and im FINALLY paying attention to the lesson and here is my way of taking notes. Becoming emotionally independent and just overal how to move forward in a way thats not so destructive.

Ive been doing alot of research in the artist and buisness woman i want to become and here i am beating myself up for not accomplishing my goals all the while not putting in the work. And on some level i blame society for it. Growing up i was one of very few if not the only POC who could draw in the class and in the school. What i am able to create with a pencil and paper never fit the stereotype i was created in. Im afro/asian hispanic from the hood(one of the more dangerous neighborhoods in my city) whom wears only black, collects videogames and movie memorabilia, play MTG. You name it i got it/do it. Essentially, anytime i drew anything even when not finished i was praised for it. I baffled people with the slightest efforts because it was something unsee and rare to them. And i think thats where im having the very hindering disconnect of knowing i can achieve this goal but upset im not because of the lack of work im putting in, is happening.

I wanna make stickers for people like me. Stickers for ya electronics and for my planner/ bullet journaling people, decals for ya cars and other home items, cups for events, fancy cake toppers and banners for kids, wedding and birthday decor. I adore seeing something i create come to life and seeing the people happy and in love with the products ive made. I wanna cater to not only the moms and the wives but for my city girls too, my neighbors the people that create my hood and made me, me.

With that being said.

Lets get to it.

-Mooshi

#artist #goals #progression #art #mooshi #creativity #artists on tumblr #crafting #poc artist #afrolatina #asian hispanic #hood life #new york #ct

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

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In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 9: Ready

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well.

_______________________

Luke finishes the last of the dishes. Noor’s at the bar, reading over her lines before the bus. Zahra dangles the keys to her car on her finger, waiting for Zeek to grab the charger for his tablet from his room. The house is quiet. He finds himself wondering how long that it will last. The question is answered a minute later when a shout rings out, “Babe!”

“There goes the silence,” he chuckles, wiping hands on the dish rag. “Yeah?” he calls out, taking the stairs two at a time to the bedroom.

You turn around, dressed in black jeans and your pajama shirt. “Where’s that heart button up shirt?”

“That’s actually Calum’s shirt,” he grins leaning up against the frame of the door.

A groan falls over your lips. Out of habit, you reach up and fix the bun of your curly hair and mutter to yourself. Of course, your favorite shirt to steal wasn’t actually Luke’s. He probably took it from Calum’s case on their last tour, last year, and only just recently realized that it didn’t belong in your closet. You could go without the shirt. But it annoys the crap out of you, that you couldn’t finish the outfit that you had been planning for days now for the first day back to school.

“Now that I think about it. That’s definitely his t-shirt too. Forgot to give it back,” Luke states.

You look down at the gray t-shirt covering your body. “So, you’re telling me, Harlowe’s gonna call asking for this shirt eventually.”

He shrugs. “Only if she knows the shirt is gone.”

You roll your eyes, peeling off the shirt and stealing inside the blue button up of Luke’s. “Honesty, one of these days y’all need to go through your closets and figure this shit out.” You’ll call Harlowe. She’ll know where that heart button up is. And more importantly, she’ll be willing to trade.

“You and Harlowe end up stealing stuff from us!” he laughs. “It’s not all our fault.”

“Shush, I said that you two need to figure out what belongs to who and then she and I can figure out what’s up for trading and what has to stay. You didn’t let me finish.” Tossing the shirt at Luke, you laugh a little at his flail, startled by the action. “Start a load of laundry please. Use the kid’s detergent. Harlowe’s skin is sensitive.”

“For one shirt?” he jokes, his high pitched shout cracking a little on the the word ‘one’. “I’ll at least wash some of the kids stuff too.”

“That’s the idea!” you shout to his retreating figure. With the last of the shirt buttoned, you pick up your phone. As you open to your recent messages, Harlowe’s name is right at the top.

The phone rings twice before you can hear her shouting in the background. “Esha, it doesn’t even take me this long to put a face on in the morning, c’mon. You’re beautiful and I will fight anyone that says otherwise.”

Calum’s laughter filters in from the background before his voice fills the line. “You’ve reached Harlowe’s phone. She’s currently helping Esha figure out mascara. Can I take a message?”

“She’s really letting Esha wear makeup to school, huh?” you ask. The debate on whether Esha could wear makeup to school was definitely a long one. You remembered just a couple months ago when it first started, during the summer. Harlowe and Calum feared she’d go off the deep in, but didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t explore in the world of make up or self expression. You just had no idea that they had agreed on anything yet. Granted, you all kept up well, some things inevitably would fall through the cracks. Between getting syllabi together and raising kids, some news unfortunately fell to the waste side.

“It was a long battle. We agreed to mascara and lipstick. Nude lipstick though. Specifically a nude lipstick.”

You nod. “Sounds like a smart choice.”

More laughter floats in from the background. “Keep looking up, you’re not going to poke yourself I promise,” Harlowe chuckles.

“But I could!” Esha retorts. “This is scary.”

“So,” Calum says, “I know you called for a reason.”

“I was trying to see if a certain item of clothing could be up for trades. It appears that I, really Luke, but by extension me as well, have a certain t-shirt that belongs to you. And a certain heart button up shirt was not Luke’s, which is disheartening.”

“The gray one with Conway studios on it?”

“That’s the one.”

“She was looking for that last night. Hold on second.” There’s muffled talking in the background. “So, while Harlowe’s sad about losing the heart button up, she’s willing to trade.”

“It’s your shirt, technically.”

Calum laughs. “She has taken my closet. Nothing is mine anymore except my shoes. If she could wear those, she’d probably take them too. Like right now, she’s in my green plaid pants. It’s a great outfit, but I was the one that pulled the pants down this morning.”

“You’re going to the studio! You know you would’ve opted for jeans anyway,” Harlowe bellows.

“I would’ve at least like the option, baby. At least give me the option.” There’s a shuffling sound and Harlowe finally speaks.

“Ignore him, girl. He’s just pissy this morning.”

“So tonight we’ll trade shirts. I had this whole first day look planned, but of course, the shirt I wanted, wasn’t Luke’s shirt.

“Okay, normal table. I’ll see you then.”

Even before opening the door, you know what the place smells like, sounds like. You and Harlowe have been coming here every Wednesday before the twins were born. It’s ritual to walk in, hearing the clack of pool balls on the smooth red velvet and a white buzz of voices. It’s ritual to smell beer, but also the famous cheese fries cooking in the back. The place is old, but it somehow feels right. No, this wasn’t always your cup of tea. But Harlowe fell in love with the place, her second collection of poetry was birthed here. So on Wednesdays, this is where you two sat, chatting about the week previous, the week ahead. Talking about husbands, and kids. Talking about students and universities. You two worked at different schools. You do this for cheese fries, the laughs, the gossip. But more importantly, you do this for her, because she needed something to look forward to after the post partum depression from Esha.

Inside, you spot her afro at the bar, “the normal table.” “If that’s a virgin rum and ginger ale, today was fine. But it’s a virgin Caribbean Rum Punch, someone’s trying to fuck themselves up,” you laugh, sliding into the bar stool next to Harlowe.

She laughs, slinging an arm across your shoulders, resting her head for a moment onto your shoulder. “Yo got me. Just ginger ale. How were your classes?” She straightens, pulling her arm away.

“There’s a freshman in my 300 level class. The fear was real in there eyes, looking at the syllabus.”

“How did they get into that class?”

You shrug. “No one asked for an override into class. My assumption is that they thought they were hot shit and signed up.”

“Didn’t even check RateMyProfessor, I bet,” Harlowe grins, flagging down a bartender.

The man walks over with an easy grin, closing his eyes and taking a deep breathe. “Let me guess.You’re going to order a plate of cheese fries. Ranch dipping on the side.”

“It’s like we’re regulars or something,” Harlow laughs.

“Or something,” he chuckles, then turns to put the order in.

“Well not all of us teach poetry and fiction. Some of us have to have reading lists a mile long,” you counter.

Her laugh fills the room practically. “You make the syllabus. It does not have to be a mile long. You clearly just like suffering and taking your students down with you.”

Feigning shock, you gasps, turning around. “I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

She chuckles, watching you. “Go ahead then. Run from the truth. But who’s the one that complains everything you have to reread those sections--you.”

“I cannot believe you’d read me like that in this here fine establishment.” This causes both of you to laugh, Harlowe falling into you a little, her laughter bouncing around in your eardrum. “How were your classes?”

With a smile resting on her face, she leans onto her elbows, toying at the glass. “Good. One girl came up to me after class and said she had signed up specifically for my section of poetry workshop because I was the only Black professor. Like I know this isn’t Kansas, to use a really dated expression, anymore. Like I know this isn’t the States, but it still means a lot be there for someone that needs it.”

“When’s your Fiction workshop?”

“Tomorrow. I’m teaching that in the morning and then the second section of intro to creative writing in the afternoon.”

“Must be nice,” you tease.

Harlowe barks a laugh. “I’m not the one that spent years getting their Ph.D. in History, only to bitch about being the exact thing they wanted to be. So yeah, it is nice to enjoy my job.” Both woman laugh and the steaming bucket of fries is placed between them. Two glasses of water also thuds against the worn wooden counter.

“How are my babies though?” There’s something in the way she asks that. You watch her face as she rummages into the depths of her bag. You catch nothing on her face. She pulls out the black button up and hands it over to you. You wipe your hands on a napkin and find the soft gray cotton in your backpack. You guys trade shirts.

“My babies are good.”

Harlowe huffs, biting hard into the fried potato. “Oh hush, I’m their aunt. They are effectively my children too.”

“What do you know that I don’t know?”

Harlowe shakes her head, reaching for her drink. “If I tell you, I break code.”

“It’s irksome that you know things before me,” you sigh. But you respect it. Your kids and Harlowe have a code. Though you desperately wish you weren’t always the last one to know about things, you understood. Sometimes the kids wanted to handle stuff by themselves, they didn’t want to always come to you or Luke. They maybe felt embarrassed having to go to their parents about everything.

“They know they can talk to you, girl. They know.”

“I’m just the last to know. I feel so left out.”

“If you think Te Koha, Esha or even Nikau even tell me everything, you’re wrong.” Harlowe downs the her glass. “Children will not tell parents everything. Did you tell your mom everything?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly my point.”

The first plate of fries is just about empty. Harlowe’s ordered a second drink when a presence slides up to the left of you. The cologne is familiar. As you giggle at Harlowe’s story about the disaster at the printer today before her class, you feel Luke’s hand resting gently on your lower back. You wondered when they would come up. When you walked in, you made a beeline for Harlow at the bar. Luke went to the table Calum had on the floor somewhere. You guys always do this. Split up, just for a little bit to have a little time away from each other. To talk all the junk you couldn’t do when your spouse was right there. It was always nice to have these moments away, to yourself, to be quiet and listen to Harlowe dramatically retell her adventures of the day or week.

Her story finishes, an exasperated sigh falling over her lips before he speaks. “Can I get a pretty girl like you a drink?”

With an eye roll, you gently press into his chest for a quick hug. “Buy us another round of fries, and then we’ll talk.”

He laughs, palm brushing up and down your satin covered back. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Ranch on the side for my friend here,” you add on, gently tapping his chest.

“Please,” Harlowe adds, batting her eyelashes.

“I’m right here,” Calum laughs, settling down next to her.

“Are you buying me french fries?” she shoots back, resting her head into his chest.

His arm wraps around her, almost protectively. “I’m the one you go home with.”

She reaches up, tapping the end of his nose with her finger. They’ve always been way more affectionate. You pretend to gag, before burying your face into your glass of water. She just buries herself deeper into him before raising her middle finger to you. “That’s rude!” Luke interjects, voice turning up into a laugh.

As the second and third, due to Calum’s ordering, basket of fries comes out. It feels like old times, like being twenty three again during the summer before your second year for your Master’s program. When you forced Harlowe to get up on that dinky stage and read her poems. When Calum and Luke approached the two of you at the end of the night. It feels like you’ve got nothing but time, nothing by belly laughs and Harlowe and Calum’s antic, the lovingly nagging, the teases, you and Luke’s quiet moments, whispers. It’s nothing but being twenty three again.

Until a phone chimes. The time of youth is over. You finish off the last few fries, cleaning off your fingers. Luke’s hand slides into yours. It’s Harlowe’s phone and she sighs. “Gotta get back to relieve Te Koha of babysitting duties,” she mutters.

Calum leans in close to her, “Can I come home with you?” He’s only a few beers in this evening. Nowhere near as far as he can go.

“Hmm,” Harlowe chuckles, nails dragging under his chin, “Depends on how well you handle three kid.”

“Some might say I’m an expert,” he laughs.

“An expert in making them,” Luke jokes, with a whistle.

“That’s all you,” Calum teases. “Some of us made the choice a lot time ago to shoot blanks.”

“We are not having this discussion right here,” you interject.

Harlowe pushes on Calum’s shoulder, to get him walking towards the door. She digs into his jacket pocket, retrieving the kids. “I’ll talk to you probably in an hour,” she laughs. “Good luck, getting your drunk giant home.”

“Do not remind me,” you call before adding, “Love you.”

She shouts over her shoulder. “Love you too. I covered half the bill.”

“I covered half,” Calum corrects loudly.

“Will you be quiet and walk you drunk piece of man. Let’s go. Kids. Kids. We gotta get to our kids.”

You drive the two of you back. Luke hums quietly along to the radio for a while. His leg bounce. You watch him at a red light. “What’s up?” you ask, pressing your palm into his denim-cladded thigh.

“Do you know what’s up with Ra?”

You had noticed she was way more quiet than usual. This is whatever Harlowe knew but you did. Luke continues, his voice panicked. “I tried asking her what was up, but she wouldn’t budge. I’m not sure if you know.”

“I don’t know either.”

His sigh is heavy. You can imagine his fingers carding through his hair as the stress settles onto his forehead. “Is it college stress? Boy trouble? If it’s boy trouble, I’m kicking someone’s ass,” he murmurs.

“Call Harlowe too.”

Luke chuckles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, I can’t forget her. What do you think it is?”

You don’t even want to try and think about that, what darkness is potentially overcoming your baby girl. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. You’d go through hell and back for your kids. Sure you weren’t always the most affectionate person, but you’d be damned if your kids were going through some shit and didn’t at least know you were in their corner for them. The rest of the drive you and Luke try not to envision all the terrible scenarios. Had someone hurt her? Touched her the wrong way? Was she failing a class? Did something happen to a friend? Did she think that you and Luke weren’t there for her anymore?

With the car parked in the driveway, you two climb out of the car and share a concerned glance before walking inside. Ra’s chilling on the couch, Noor passed out in her lap, the TV’s on. It’s not barely nine. “You’re free of being pretend mom,” Luke says softly.

Ra looks up with a small smile. “How were drinks?”

“Good. Anything happen here?” you asks.

“If it had, trust I would’ve called. After you guys left after dinner, we all finished up some homework. Or rather they finished up, and then Zeek showered and start drawing. Noor and I watched some TV. She had those physical fitness test today, so she’s pretty exhausted I guess.”

Luke nod, kissing both their foreheads. “We’ve got her. Finish up that work, yeah?”

Ra nods. “How many pints, Dad?” she laughs.

He shakes his head. “Hush. Only a few more months and then I’ll take you out.”

“Oh, God, please spare me that embarrassment.”

“Okay, so Auntie Harlowe can take you out on my dime, how about that?”

She grins. “Now you’re talking.”

Luke pulls her in for one last hug, kissing her hair. “Go finish your work, missy.”

As Ra ascends the stairs, you wait until she reaches the first landing before stopping her, a gentle hand on her back. “Hey,” you start, looking into her eyes. The twinkle is gone. She looks tired. “You know I’m here right, for you. Both your dad and I are. You can tell us anything.”

She nods, lips pursing close. “I know. Thanks, Mum. Got a paper to finish though.” She lifts her thumb over her shoulder to the stairs, to her room, to her escape. You nod. She turns and takes them two at a time. She’s not ready. You can’t force her.

It’s another two weeks. Zahra walks in through the door behind Noor and Zeek, closing the door behind her. “Hey guys,” you call out, tending over the pot of pasta.

Zeek kisses your cheek and Noor buries herself in a giant hug. Ra doesn’t round the corner. You peek around and see her leaning against the glass, hands covering her face. Her shoulders shake once, twice. She’s crying. Before you can set yourself in motion towards her, she throws herself into you, tears staining her cheek, streaking her make-up. “Fuck,” she whimpers, shaking against you.

Your heart thunders in your chest. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Part of you is frozen. What the hell is happening? But the other part is ready to fix whatever it is. Whatever is heavy in her soul. “Talk--talk to me, baby. I’m right here,” you attempt to soothe.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know,” she hiccups. “I know emotions are totally not our thing. But god, I’m so tired of holding this in anymore.”

The two of you stand there, you rubbing at her back and she sobs into your skin, her tears feeling like fire. What else could you have done to get her to open up sooner? What else could you have said? “You’re ready now,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”

It takes a few minutes for Zahra to collect herself. Her cheeks are streak a little. But she takes a deep breathe. “Did my mascara run?”

You shake your head, a smile cracking through the fear. “No. Told you that shit would hold.”

She laughs. The two of you head into the kitchen, you hand her some tissues. She’s much taller than you, taking her height from Luke. You have to look up at her a little. Rubbing her arms, you find yourself at lost for words. Wait until she’s ready, you think to yourself. Wait until she’s ready. Zeek hands her a glass of water. “Your face didn’t melt too bad.”

“Thanks,” Ra mutters, taking a sip. “And you’re still a pain in my butt.”

“I’m the best pain,” he smiles, hugging her.

“Can I talk to you and Dad, when he gets here?” Ra says quietly behind her glass.

You nod. “Of course.”

Luke arrives home about an hour later. Just as dinner is finished. He immediately notes the pink to Zahra’s face and flashes you a look. You respond with a gesture of your hand, telling him to wait, to not jump the gun. But Zahra knows when her hug is a few seconds longer than usual. Dinner goes by nicely, though Zeek does make one comment, “So we’re not going to discuss the emotional breakdown or?”

“Shove your mouth with pasta or there’s gonna be another breakdown and not from me,” Ra smiles.

Zeek huffs, “No need to take my head off, okay?”

Noor reaches over, holding Ra’s hand, while shoveling more food onto her fork. “Some of us know our manners,” she quips.

Luke and you try to swallow the snickers. Your children did learn from the best. Zeek and Noor get excused from the table. You know the kitchen’s a mess but that can wait. Zahra looks up from her empty plate. “So, like, what if I said I wasn’t sure I was straight?” she asks all in one breathe.

You blink for a second, all the air rushing out of your lungs, before you smile. “I would say I’m very happy you told me.”

She looks to Luke. He takes her hand between his palms. “I would say that I love you no matter what. Straight or not, you’re still my daughter and I love you dearly. And it’s mighty brave of you to admit that.”

Zahra blinks rapidly, eyes welling up again. “It’s--” her voice is thick, she takes a moment. “It’s strange. To always have known something was different with me. Not just skin color or religion. But like something different. I don’t have a label for it. And I tried to push it down, ya know? Not think about it amongst all the college application deadlines, and dances, and school work mixed in with my job. I just….it’s been too long for me not to say something.”

You hand her a napkin. She dabs under her eyes. “You don’t need a label, sweetie. You don’t have to be afraid of us. We will always love you.”

“Always?” she questions.

“Of course,” you and Luke chorus.

“So, on top of that, I also don’t think artsy is my thing, Dad. I like the idea of Med school.”

Luke grins, placing one hand over his heart, faking a groan of pain. “I still got two more shoots at one of my kids turning to the arts.”

Zahra laughs looking over to you. “Every Brown parent’s dream, isn’t it?”

You nod, laughter bursting out of you. “Maybe just a little bit. I don’t care what you do, just as long as you love it, sweetheart.”

“That’s really a one two punch,” Luke jokes, later as the three of you clean the kitchen. “Really breaking your old man’s heart.”

You slap his bicep. “Now’s not the time.”

Zahra hugs him though from behind, cheek squished by his back. “I figured if you guys could handle me being a giant question mark in the sexuality department then maybe changing from arts to sciences would be easier to swallow.”

Luke turns in her embrace, wrapping her up tightly. “Yeah, a good way to deliver the news.” You let your cheeks lift, watching Zahra happily rests in her father’s arms for a beat or two longer before going back to putting the dishes up. It’s no longer heaviness in her shoulders, she no longer drags. That makes you happy.

Not even two hours later though, there’s a knock at the door. Luke answers it, his laughter erupting from him. You watch as Harlowe comes barreling down the entryway, a rainbow flag in her hands. She wraps Ra up in as she hugs her, rocking them both side to side. “Welcome to the club!” Harlowe laughs.

Calum, Te Koha, Esha and Nikau follow in slowly behind her. If you had to equate the two of you to weather, Harlowe is a hurricane and your just the run of the mill thunderstorms. But you wouldn’t have her any other way. Esha walks over, prying her mother away from her life long friend. “So, we’re going to pride together or what?” Esha jokes, giving Zahra a hug. Esha has been out as pan for a year now. Calum and Harlowe took her to a few pride events since then.

Ra laughs, “Yeah, yeah I guess we can.”

Te Koha steps dish out a hug too. “That’s very brave and you. I’m proud,” he says quietly. Zahra and him are in the same boat, not straight, not gay, just questions, just queer. Te Koha has not said anything. She hopes this pushes him. You watch their silent conversation before Nikau hugs her too and it ends.

“Momma brought you cake,” Nik informs to Ra.

She laughs. “Of course, you did Auntie Harlowe. Only you.”

“I’ve been quiet for weeks! Weeks, I told you i would not say anything until you came out. But I hope you’re ready because now, I’m not holding back!” Harlowe laughs, walking into the kitchen. That’s when it comes evident that her rainbow clips are holding back her two-strand twists from her face. You laugh at the detail, but happily take the slice of cake she hands you.

“Thank you,” you say to Harlowe as the kids chat in the background. Ra’s still wearing the flag. “Thank you for being there for her.”

“It’s what I’m here for. I do not take the title aunt loosely.”

“Clearly,” you mutter, motion to the cake and the flag. “You make that abundantly clear.”

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings 5sos #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings blurb #dad!luke #dad!luke series #5sos #5 seconds of summer #h writes #luke hemmings x south asian reader #luke hemmings x reader #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic

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myrecordcollections · 6 years ago

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"World Forum/Communist Quiz" is a Monty Python sketch, which first aired in the 12th episode of the second season of Monty Python's Flying Circus on 15 December 1970. It featured four icons of Communist thought, namely Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin, Ché Guevara and Mao Zedong being asked quiz questions.

A quiz show named "World Forum" is hosted by Eric Idle. He introduces his four guests, Karl Marx (played by Terry Jones), Vladimir Lenin (played by Eden Fox), Che Guevara (played by Terry Gilliam) and Mao Zedong (played by Basil Tang). Despite announcing this event as a "unique occasion in the history of television" the host then simply starts asking these historical figures trivial quiz questions. Marx is asked which English football team is nicknamed "the Hammers". He has obviously no idea (in reality it's West Ham United F.C.). Idle then asks Guevara a different question, namely in which year Coventry City FC last won the FA Cup? When Guevara also fails to give any answer at all Idle throws the question open to the other guests, but still receives no answer from any of then. Idle then says: "Well, I'm not surprised you didn't get that. It was in fact a trick question: Coventry City have never won the FA Cup." With the scores all equal the second quiz round begins. Idle asks Lenin the name of the song by Teddy Johnson and Pearl Carr which won the 1959's Eurovision Song Contest. Lenin has no clue, so Idle once again throws the question open. Unexpectedly Mao rings his buzzer and gives the correct answer: "Sing Little Birdie".

Idle then takes Marx to the special gift section of the quiz. He is able to win a beautiful lounge suite if he is able to answer all questions correctly. The host announces that Marx has chosen questions on the workers control of factories as his special subject. He asks Marx by what other development the industrial proletariat is conditioned, to which Marx correctly answers: "The development of the industrial bourgeoisie". Idle continues asking what kind of struggle the struggle of class against class is, to which Marx again correctly replies: "A political struggle". The final question however turns out to be another sports question, when Marx is asked who won the 1949 FA Cup Final? As Marx desperately tries to reply unrelated things like "the worker's control of the means of production" and "the struggle of the urban proletariat" the host informs him that he lost and that the correct answer was in fact the Wolverhampton Wanderers F.C. who beat Leicester City F.C., 3-1. The broadcast closes with stock footage of a crowd cheering over a winning goal during an association football match. A caption announces that "next week" the four leading heads of state of the Afro-Asian Nations will be playing against Bristol Rovers at Molineux.

#Monty Python #Live At Dury Lane #1974 #Communist Quiz #Commedy

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hariharan5901 · 2 years ago

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India, Pakistan cricketers may line up together under Afro-Asia Cup revival plan | Cricket News

NEW DELHI: India’s Virat Kohli could line up beside Pakistan skipper Babar Azam in the same team next year with the Asian Cricket Council (ACC) planning to revive the Afro-Asia Cup. The 50-overs series was first played in 2005 before being discontinued after its next edition in 2007 as relations between India and Pakistan soured. Former Sri Lanka captain Mahela Jayawardene led an Asia XI that…

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the-ghost-writers · 6 years ago

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It’s Just Coffee

SFW story about a werewolf bringing a guy he’s recently turned into a fellow werewolf to meet all his monster friends. I just wanted some casual dialogue and this gave me an excuse, that’s all.

Counting off his fingers, Nate stops walking right before they get to a glass door. “So you four, every Tuesday and Friday, come to this cafe and chat with each other? Despite how you’re all three monsters, talking about monster things, while surrounded by humans?” Peering up to the man, that he’s more or less forced to accompany, he gets a curt nod and carries on. “And you don’t worry about, say, getting caught and revealing yourself to the public?” This time he gets a head shake. Blinking away his surprise, Nate pouts his lips. “Is everyone in the cafe secretly a monster? Is that why you’re not scared?”

A laugh comes out of Devon as he ruffles his short friend’s brown hair; granted, everyone is short compared to his abnormally tall height. “It’s not like we shout about what we’re saying. And aside from a few things here and there, we live the same as you do.” Pulling his hand back, he sweeps his own black hair back. “Or, how you used to at least.”

Crossing his arms, Nate makes a face. “Yeah, thanks for biting me by the way, felt great and I just love how I feel to need to chase squirrels now.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to become a werewolf.” He cracks a grin and shrugs, knowing he’s right and there’s nothing Nate can do to prove him wrong. “No,” Raising a finger, the little guy turns cold. “You asked if I wanted to be a werewolf. You did so right before biting me before I had a chance to answer.” While the grin stays, Devon’s eyebrows crease, followed by a squint. “I think we remember that going down differently, I’m positive you said yes.” Stepping aside, he opens the cafe door and waves an arm for his buddy to enter. “Ladies first.”

The brunette blinks once before cocking his head to the side. “Remind me why I still talk to you?” Regardless of what he says, Nate enters and stands to wait. “Cause for two years you had a crush on me.” Stepping in after, Devon plops a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “And now I’m your alpha, you’re obligated to listen to me.”

As he gets led through the cafe, Nate snorts. “You know all that alpha stuff isn’t legitimate, right? A scientist conducted a poorly made test using wolves who don’t know each other to observe wolf behavior. The wolves were aggressive to each other because they didn’t know each other, the strongest made the others submit and became the alpha. But in a real wolf pack, the main wolf is the pack leader which who acts like a caring dad, or mom.” By the time he finishes talking, Devon had led them to the counter where they wait to make their order.

The big guy doesn’t respond for a long while until eventually grumbling. “Don’t tell any of the others about that.” Putting a hand on Nate’s back, he turns the small man and points to two people sitting beside each other in a booth. “That’s Anya, the other is Vlad.” He motions to the woman on the outside, a short girl of Asian descent and a skin tone that suggests she’s one to enjoy sunbathing. Wearing shorts, an orange band to hold her dark brown hair in a ponytail, and a white t with a tabby cat on it, she laughs and pushes her shoulder into the man sitting beside her. The guy, Vlad from what Devon said, hardly shifts, only just the corner of his lip rising in a smile while his companion is laughing hard enough to lose breath. He’s taller than her, but not by much. Distinctly European, his hair is stark white with skin is so pale that it makes Nate look tan; that’s really something considering how often he gets compared to Snow White. Oddly enough, he’s dressed in blue scrubs yet seems completely comfortable how he is. Vlad slowly traces a circle on the table as he listens to Anya talk, playing with fallen water from the condensation of his cup.

A bump against Nate’s elbow brings him out of his starring as his tanned, buff werewolf friend jerks his head to the table, his hands preoccupied with the two drinks he holds. “Come on, they don’t bite.” Devon doesn’t actually wait for an answer as he’s walking the moment he finishes speaking.

“I’m having trouble believing that.” Following after, Nate waits for Devon to set down their drinks and slide into the booth so he can do the same, sitting comfortably on the outside.

At least, he was comfortable until the two strangers put an end to their conversation to stare at him. Rapping his fingers along the table, he starts to curl in on himself form the intensity in which they watch him. That is until Anya bonuses up and juts her hand at him. “Hi there! I’m Anya, but I guess the wolf told you that.”

Slowly, Nate reaches out and shakes her hand, trying to not be too confused as he looks at her. “Did you hear us while we were in line?” “And when you were outside the door.” Lifting a hand, Vlad points a lazy finger behind him, all while never taking his eyes off the newcomer. “We monsters have some excellent hearing.”

Nate’s cheeks flush red and he covers his mouth his palm, turning his head away from Vlad’s coy smile. Thankfully for him, Devon apparently decided that it’s been too long since he last talked. Nudging the little werewolf, he brings him out of his blushing bubble and waves the other hand at his friends. “So these are my buddies; Anya is a kitsune,” She gives a quick peace sign. “And Vlad is a vampire, but you could guess that by the name.”

“Eh,” The bloodsucker shrugs, causing his scrubs to wrinkle loud enough to be heard. “My parents are very traditional.” Tossing a limp hand in Nate’s direction, his smile returns, this one tired. “Before you ask; no, vampires can’t be born and neither was I. My parents are not parents by blood,” He pauses so Anya can snicker at the hidden joke. “They adopted me and turned me into a vampire when I became an adult. They were planning it from the moment they got me.”

“I’m thankful for you explaining that, but I don’t even know how someone becomes a vampire in the first place.” Vlad raises his brows, the likes of which are white and hardly visible, and slightly shakes his head.

Anya leans across the table, squinting as she gives Nate a side eye. “Don’t you watch movies and all that junk? I mean, most monster movies are made by monsters themselves.”

The vampire turns to her and frowns. “We’re not monster-”

“I’m a monster.” Devon quirps before Vlad can speak again.

He ignores the giant werewolf and presses on with grilling Anya. “We’re creatures.” Back to Nate, he puts a hand in the air without removing his elbow from the table. “Vampires are made the same way werewolves are: someone gets bit by one and manages to survive it.”

“Oh, okay, that's a scary thought.” Vlad merely shrugs as Nate leans back in his seat to put some distance between them. For once, he’s finding Devon’s presence more comforting than annoying. Still, he grabs the vampire’s attention again. “So, uh, can you turn into a bat and stuff?”

Vlad tucks his head down, hand over his face, while Anya presses her arms on the table and stares wide-eyed. “Oh my god! Nate, you can’t ask a vampire something like that!”

Instantly, the little werewolf fidgets around and looks around in a panic. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t know, gosh, I didn’t mean to offend!”

“She’s fucking with you,” Nate freezes up at Devon’s words, turning to him to find he’s staring down the kitsune with an unamused look. “She did the same thing to me when I asked him. You didn’t do anything bad, she’s just pulling a prank.”

“Hey,” Grabbing her drink, Anya smiles around the straw as she takes a sip. “I’m a foxy lady, tricks are what I do.”

Turning to Nate and shaking his head, Vlad returns to his drink, speaking right before taking a sip. “Yes, I can turn into a bat; it amuses me how that’s always the first question people ask. Actually, the second, the first is usually ‘are you going to kill me now?’” His chuckle is interrupted as he takes a drink, a faint red on his pale lips when he pulls to cup away. It dawns on Nate that he doesn't have the same cup that the coffee shop gives out, his a plain white. But his staring isn’t missed, Vlad catching his eyes. With a sigh, the vampire pops his lid off and shows the little werewolf what he’s drinking. Blood, straight up blood. Before he panics, Devon puts an arm on his shoulder to calm him and Vlad huffs. “Oh don’t lose your head, it’s from blood bags that are about to expire,” Tugging on his scrubs, he gives Nate a look. “I’m a nurse for a reason.”

Leaning across the table and resting on her elbows, Anya gets close to Nate and beams at him. “So! What was it like to get bit by your wolf daddy?” Vlad nearly chokes on his blood while Devon shouts for the kitsune to stop talking.

But it’s all made worry when Nate’s anxiety makes him panic and say. “Good.” Anya falls back howls with laughter, Vlad banging on his chest to clear his throat while the poor little werewolf buries his face in his hands. Devon rubbing his back helps soothe his nerves, but it’s not nearly enough to make any real difference. “I didn’t mean to say that…”

The bigger wolf sigh as he keeps on rubbing. “But you did, and now she’ll never let you live it down. Which is really saying something considering your new lifespan which is, what, two hundred years. Maybe three?”

Before Nate can start with a barrage of questions, a server comes up with their drinks, a fella on the tall side of the spectrum with dark black skin and curly hair shaped in an afro fade, dyed blonde at the top. The server sets down a cup in front of Nate and Devon each, smiling at the former and cocking his head. “Hey, you’re a new face.”

Picking himself up and straightening his back, Nate puts on a pleasant look and offers the man a handshake. “I’m Nate Austin, a friend of Devon’s. He’s introducing me to all his friends.”

Taking Nate’s handshake, the server wraps the little werewolf’s hand up in the yellow talon of a bird. “I’m Jake.” His eyes go wide when he realizes the state of his hands, flapping them wildly until they revert to his disguise of a human’s pair of hands. Looking up at a shocked Nate, he uses both hands to put a finger up and stop him before he can speak. “I can explain this.”

He doesn’t need to as Devon wraps an arm around Nate and shakes him around as he talks to the server. “Ah don’t worry about it, our Nate here is a werewolf; I should know, I was the one who turned him.”

“Which I didn’t ask for.” Despite his grumbles, Nate doesn’t try to push the big guy away at all.

But Vlad perks up some, raiding his head to frown at Devon. “You changed him without his permission?”

“Not cool man,” Resting an arm on the vampire’s shoulder, Anya leans on him so she’s in Devon’s sight and adds her two cents. “Like seriously bro, not cool.”

“Hey!” Grabbing onto the table hard enough to put scratches, which looks like it happens often with all the marks at his spot at the table, Devon puts on a forced smile. “Maybe we should focus on getting our lovely little Nate familiar with the new guy? Yeah? Like hey, Natey, did you know that Jake is actually a gryphon and his real name Jakeontee?”

“Wait.” Reaching out and wrapping his hand around Nate’s wrist, he stops the little werewolf from picking up his drink. Gently, he lets go and plucks the cup off the table, holding it away from Nate. “Devon, you dolt. If he’s a werewolf, then why would you order him a coffee?”

The mighty and proud alpha sets his elbow on the table and points a hard finger at the disguised gryphon just to come up empty on excuses. He sucks on his lips for a moment before tossing his hand away and sitting back. “I ordered him what he usually gets, I wasn’t thinking, sorry.”

Nate pats his arm but his hand stays there. “It’s okay, all these little things you do don’t seem like much ever since you, oh I don’t know, bit me.” As he was speaking, he was slowly tightening his grip on Devon’s arm, getting to the point that the big guy hard to jerk his arm away.

“This is rich, but I should get back to work.” Stepping back, Jake offers them all a peace sign. “Bye guys, nice meeting you Nate.” And with that he retreats back to behind the counter, revealing to the group an orange feathered tail that’s slipped out from his pants, held high by the waist of his pants and bobbing as he walks about.

Vlad sighs and gestures to the kitsune beside him. “If you could.” Anya rolls her eyes, taking a moment to do some complicated movements with her fingers. A glance back at Jake and his tail begins to disappear, starting at the tip as the spell crawls along the length before the tail simply vanishes altogether. A tap comes to Nate’s shoulder as Devon gives him a smile. “You mind if I can get past so I can get you something you can actually drink?” The little guy nods and scurries out of the seat to let his friend by, returning the smile with one of his own.

Standing at the end of the table and watching the bigger werewolf head for the counter, he feels cold fingers cover his hand. Looking back, he finds Vlad and Anya looking hard at him, the kitsune without her joking aura. “You do know he cares, right? It’s not common for him to put so much effort into someone.” The vampire tightens his grip on Nate’s hands and lowers his voice. “He’s really trying to do this right. To do you right.”

Putting his hand on Vlad, he gives him a soft nod. “I know.” The vampire takes a moment to look over the young werewolf before pulling away. Anya offers a quick thumbs up and a toothy grin, unknowingly showing Nate sharper canines than any human would have.

There’s no time for anything more as Devon comes back with a cup, pressing it into Nate’s hand and huffing. “Hot chocolate, extra whip crea-” He stops moving to sit down and takes the drink from Nate, slowly going back to the counter. “You can’t have chocolate either…”

Resting his arms across his chest, Nate watches the big guy sulk back to the counter, a gentle smile on his face. Tilting his head to the side just enough for the other two to hear, he chuckles. “I know he’s trying, I’m thankful for it.” Nothing more is said until Devon comes back, the two werewolves sitting together and the group launching into a discussion to tell all the wondrous things of the hidden monster world, explaining what legends are real and which aren’t, and getting through to him that him being a were didn’t suddenly make him want to chase squirrels but instead he’s always wanted to do that and he’s using his werewolf side as an excuse to blame it on.

#fantasy #writing #literally none of them are straight #a gaggle of gays

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jayceparkblog · 3 years ago

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The 11 Best Places to Spend New Year's Eve on Earth

Well, 11.59pm on December 31 means your New Year’s resolution is about to begin — so before you go on that health kick or give up booze or chocolate, you may as well go out with a bang. From the beaches of Brazil to the freezing streets of Reykjavik, the harbours of Sydney and Hong Kong to the cobbled lanes of Edinburgh, check out the 11 wildest places on the planet to welcome the new year.

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Sydney

All eyes are locked on the Harbour City every 31st of December — not only because Sydney’s the first major city in the world to enter the new year, but also because it throws the largest NYE fireworks display on the planet. Seven tonnes of fireworks dazzle the million-plus admirers who flock to Sydney Harbour for a glimpse, including the hundreds of boats that blanket the water for the best vantage point of the 9pm and midnight shows.

Edinburgh

Edinburgh’s Hogmanay celebrations are the stuff of legend, kicking off with a torchlight procession on December 30, followed by the mammoth street party, traditional ceilidh dancing beneath Edinburgh Castle and a rousing rendition of Auld Lang Syne on December 31, then freeze off your hangover with a bracing swim in the frigid River Forth to raise money for charity on January 1.