#asian kurta

[dlldior]

guys if sebagni got married would sebastian wear traditional clothing at their wedding

[the-brown-man]

It's been a while.

[saleeba]

subha hone na de ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ alexa play moonlight by twice :D

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x south asian/brown!fem!reader

content ♡ fluff, fiancé!jude, asian wedding shenanigans, jude in a black kurta (brown ppl will know that this is a trope in itself 😌), y/c/n = your cousin's name, lovergirl!reader, the moon as a symbol of beauty, tiny social media au at the end, bollywood fans this one's for u !! 🗣🗣

a/n ♡ ahhhh my first brown girl reader fic & i’m so excited for u all to read it 🥰🥰 the reason i used both south asian and brown as descriptors for the reader is bc i wanted to include the girlies of the diaspora like the caribbean/fiji/south africa/south east asia etc & tbh i wasn’t sure if any person of south asian descent preferred to describe themselves as either ‘south asian’ or as ‘brown’ !! also pls note that this is a very broad & non-specific portrayal of a person from “south asian culture” - that is to say that bc south asia is made up of numerous ethnicities, religions, cultures etc i don’t want to show disrespect by lumping them all together nor do i intend the reader to be from a certain south asian background! i tried to keep it as “general” (?) as possible esp when it came to the clothing but pls let me know if u would like to see elements of a specific culture or religion in a future south asian/brown!reader fic !! ALSO oml ik my a/ns are always so long 😭 but the title is a reference to one of my fav bollywood songs <3 it’s an absolute BANGER & it translates to “let there be no morning/don’t allow the dawn to arrive” which i think ties in nicely to this fic :D pls enjoy & lmk what u think!!! 🫶🏽💛

“alright… how do i look, babe?” your fiancé asks, emerging from the bedroom into the ensuite where you’re placing the finishing touches to your simple makeup look as he pats down the black sequinned kurta you’ve picked out for your cousin’s at-home henna ceremony tonight. his personal choice to pair it with a golden necklace and a watch to match makes the whole look pop against the summer-tanned tone of his skin. 

you’re careful not to blind yourself with the eyeliner in your hand once you catch even the smallest glimpse of him in the mirror. it’s safe to say that if you were a cartoon character, there’d be hearts protruding from your eyeballs, all pink and comically large. 

“you look amazing, jude, so handsome,” you beam at him, genuinely in awe of how good he looks in your culture’s clothing, not that it’s the first time you’ve seen jude wearing such a thing. over the years that the two of you have been dating, you’ve introduced him to so many facets of your heritage, sharing parts of yourself that were inseparably you – and jude has embraced and immersed himself in everything like he was born into that same culture. 

your fiancé smiles right back at you before replying. “have to make sure i look good in front of my wife’s family now, don’t i?” 

you struggle to stifle the schoolgirl-like giggle that racks through your chest at his words, still not able to be used to the word ‘wife’ coming out of jude’s mouth while referring to you, despite you not even being that yet. truth be told, it’s almost been a month since jude proposed and although you both agreed to wait for some time before telling fans and the media, he’s been calling you his wife around friends and family ever since he got down on one knee, resulting in your bashful smile and blushing cheeks becoming the subject of their teasing every time. 

“true, yeah, can’t have the aunties gossiping about how you have zero drip.” 

your joking is met with a childish sticking out of jude’s tongue before he’s shooed out of the bathroom, leaving you to complete your makeup and don the black and gold outfit that matches jude’s for tonight. 

***

your cousin had told everyone that she wanted a very lowkey and relaxed henna function, especially since weddings from your culture tend to be incredibly busy—almost chaotically so—and she has the opportunity of her other nuptial ceremonies to go all out anyway, hence tonight’s dress code being as equally relaxed and minimal. in spite of all that, you’ve taught jude that celebrations in your culture and the word ‘lowkey’ are nothing but oxymorons of each other so he isn’t surprised when you both walk in to see the bridal home all decked out in bright lights and flower garlands the colours of a vivid spring and ten times the guests he was anticipating to see all bumbling about the place. what does surprise jude is when you inform him that you’ve been appointed as a “chief henna artist” (in the words of the bride) last minute so now he’s been abandoned; left to the mercy of your relatives who haven’t seen him for all of three months and so decide to hound him with every question under the sun.

“tell us how it was winning the champions league, jude!”

“jude, any plans for the wedding yet?”

“uncle jude, come play in the garden with us! please, uncle jude, please!

“is it true mbappé’s going to madrid? do you have his number?!” 

“ooh, can you give me mbappé’s number?!”

jude fights the urge to jet past everyone and run out the front door screaming and flailing his arms, the blaring music and onslaught of inquiries getting to him, and instead peeks over the heads of the crowd around him to try and silently get your attention because as much as he loves your family, he’s praying you can be his knight in shining black and gold to save him from their unwarranted fixation right now. Unfortunately, he’s met with the sight of you fully concentrated on working on your cousin’s bridal henna, having teamed up with another cousin to meticulously draw intricate patterns across her arms and feet. oh, he’s going to have to get comfortable with the company of your relatives for at least the next three hours then. 

***

those three hours turn into five by the time jude is done having a kickabout in the garden with your younger family members, detailing the night his club were champions of europe once again and politely declining the chance to leak the kylian mbappé’s phone number to your niece. not that he’s at his wits’ end (he kind of really is) but jude thinks he’d do good to be in your company as the clock tolls eleven so he opts out of another game of footy to go and look for you, much to the amusement of your relatives who lightheartedly taunt him about the way he can’t stay away from his fiancée for even a short while. 

passing into the living room once again, jude finds you right where he left you but this time, it’s your henna that’s being painted onto the palms of your hands, the design so complex and elaborate that some of the already-dried parts look richly brick-ish red against your skin tone. under the twinkling fairy lights and waves of marigold flowers, jude can’t help but imagine it’s your nuptials being celebrated here; sitting so prettily like you’re what everyone came here to see and honestly? he can’t wait until it’s time for you to be just that. 

“hi, again. remember me?” he jests, taking a seat on the floor cushion next to where you’re sat with your arms sprawled out as your cousin decorates them with muddy green paste. 

“hmm, remind me who you are again?” you feign a confused look. 

“ouch. is that ring on your finger not good enough of a reminder, mrs bellingham?” 

“nope, the diamond’s too small.”

“oi!” 

the laughter that erupts from the both of you even has your cousin joining in, jude breaking the giggle fits to ask an all-important question. 

“have you eaten yet? you’ve been sat here the whole night doing this.” 

shaking your head, you gesture towards the now empty bottle of water sitting by your feet that you’d been rationing throughout the evening and tell him that's all you’ve been filling your stomach with, way too busy with doing the bride’s henna then an aunty’s then a cousin’s then another aunty and then the next after that to even move from your spot in the lounge.

jude determines that that won’t do and offers to make you a plate of food that your elders had just topped up the buffet table with. you comply and ask him to get enough food for you to share. 

between mouthfuls and munching of samosas—jude doing the super important job of biting the corner of a samosa and blowing the savoury pastry cool enough for you to take a bite—and sweetmeats, your cousin works hard at completing the henna art on your left hand, and there’s just the matter of a couple of fingers left before she utters a heartfelt apology and comments that her hand is about to cramp from holding cones of henna for so long.

“that’s okay! go grab a break and then if you’re still up for it, you can finish it later,” you say sincerely, encouraging her to go hang out with other parts of the family before she loses her mind in swirls and paisley patterns like you nearly have. “or i can always get someone else to do it!”

“can i have a go?” 

the way jude pipes up, mouth stuffed with chocolate barfi like a child who's just found the cookie jar, has you and your cousin whipping your heads towards him and then at each other, sharing the slightest of sceptical looks. 

“oh god, will we need to get the stencils out for him, y/n?” your cousin japes – well, she believes she is but the thought of her painstaking work being destroyed by a guy who, although creates art with a football, cannot draw anything further than a stick person makes her nervous, to say the least. 

“hey!” jude wants to advocate for his art skills right here, right now. “i’ve been watching you do it all just now, i’ll just copy the exact same thing for the last two fingers, right?”

you pipe in as his supporting act. “he makes a very good case, your honour.”

your cousin surrenders to the pair of you, essentially fleeing the scene with mutters of “better not mess it up, bellingham” and you both know she’s deadly serious. 

“still not too late to get the stencils, y’know?” you watch as your fiancé struggles with holding the henna cone correctly.

“no, no, i’ve got this, babe,” he remarks before almost smudging the still-wet design on your palm with his fingers. “oh shit!”

“jude!”

your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth at the sight.  

“It’s fine, love, see!” jude points to an edge that’s ever so slightly smudged from the commotion. “all good. now, close your eyes.” 

“you’re joking!” you squeak out incredulously, fearful of whatever is going on in that mad mind of his. you do not want to face the wrath of your cousin on a night that’s going so well. 

“please, babe!” your grown fiancé looks like a kid trying to prove himself to his mum right now with the way his already puppy-dog eyes grow wider. “i promise it’ll look good, just… close your eyes, please?” 

“ok, fine!” trying not to let reluctance get in the way, you’re now the one surrendering to jude’s request as your eyes close without any further argument.. “i’m telling y/c/n to kill you and not me if this doesn’t go to plan.”

a small chuckle is the only thing you can hear from jude before he gets to work, spending more minutes than you can count on your henna-adorned fingers as he drags the cool paint over your digits, questions of whether you can open your eyes yet meet with shushes and oftentimes you hear yourself hissing when jude tugs your skin with the pointed tip of the cone instead of hovering slightly above with it. 

“aaand we’re done! you have my permission to open your eyes.” as soon as you do, you’re met with the sight of a very smug, very excited jude bellingham who gestures towards your left hand where… wow, the design is beautiful. it’s the tiniest bit clumsy, just where the lines are supposed to be straight, but it mirrors exactly what your cousin had painted on your right hand, the pattern set in its curls and dots and spirals.

“i did a little something extra, too. i hope y/c/n doesn’t mind but i think you’ll like it.”

“yeah? you’re gonna have to help me find it then, babe,” you say, already scanning over the artwork he’s created to try and find what mystery he’s left behind. 

“actually, that’s supposed to be your job.” your fiancé replies, his smile a little more bashful and voice a little softer. “it’s my name, i wrote it in there for you to find—”

“really?! where?!” you ask albeit rhetorically as your eyes now frantically run all over your left hand in search of where jude has inscribed his own name. 

a few seconds pass before they do a double-take over where your engagement ring sits on your finger, just there, just to the right of it along the crook of where your finger meets the back of your palm. there is it — the print so whimsically curled and sweetly small that it looks like it fits right in with the rest of the henna design. jude. 

“where did you learn all this?” you’re tearing up just the slightest over it all, glad no one is within earshot of you two for you would’ve been teased to no end tonight. 

your fiancé shrugs nonchalantly at your question before explaining everything. “i did some research after proposing and read about it. i know, originally, you’re supposed to be the one that knows and i’m the one that looks for it but i thought this would be cute.”

“it was cute— so cute,” you beam across at jude, the hearts in your eyes back again over how willing he is to throw himself into your cultural traditions and quirks, even learning things unprompted and without your encouragement. you thank your lucky stars that you found yourself a life partner who’s so unabashed in not just learning about your heritage but incorporating it into your lives. in a way, he’s been healing that little girl who grew up ashamed and embarrassed of her culture, wishing she was someone else, something else, and helping her become a woman who proudly wears it without giving anyone else ownership. 

a chorus of “uncle jude! uncle jude!” rings through the living room as your younger relatives, all pumped up on sugar at around midnight (oh well, it is the time for festivities anyway), run in, dragging your fiancé away from you before you two can exchange any more words. you settle with a shared knowing look and smile, leaving you to get your henna dried and jude to commence round 2 of another football match. 

***

there are only so many probing questions from aunties and uncles and instances of your cousin bitching about her situationship that you can take as your henna dries in, what are now, two makeshift cling-film casts to help strengthen the colour before you’re bothered by the lack of jude by your side as the clock tolls just past two in the morning. after sifting through possibly the entire family tree dotted throughout the house, you’re directed by an uncle to the balcony where jude’s standing hunched over the railing, gazing into the sky where the moon illuminates the earth, peeking from behind a sliver of cloud dust. 

“hey, you,” you speak softly so as not to startle the peaceful moment that’s now given you a break from the hubbub inside.

jude whips his head towards the voice, instantly grinning at the sight of you, so beautiful in the moonshine, before extending an arm to pull you into his side. 

“i see the moon’s out tonight,” you muse, not taking your eyes off him one bit as he continues to stare up into the sky.

“looks beautiful, right?” 

“yeah, he does.” you daren’t unlock your gaze from the way jude glows in the moonlight, the cool tone sitting over his skin and bringing more attention to the bridge of his nose and the highest points of his cheekbones. oh, how you want to spend the rest of the night laying kisses across them. 

“he? oh—” he turns to find your pretty eyes, lit equally as bright by the natural light, not even having budged an inch from his face as he realises you’re not talking about that moon. “shut up!”

you laugh as he blushes like a smitten teenage boy, a sight not too unfamiliar since that’s exactly what he was when the two of you started dating. 

“what, can’t a girl be romantic with her husband?” you act out a sweet pout, the sight and your words making jude’s heart skip a beat or three.

“you are so lucky your family isn’t here to take the piss.”

another set of giggles from the pair of you as you cuddle into jude’s side, both now facing the moon that you swear is shining way brighter than before, the cloud in front of it nearly dissipating into non-existence. 

“i love you, mrs bellingham,” jude breaks the serene silence. “i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” he places the gentlest of kisses on your ring finger, lips ghosting just over the cling-film-covered diamond ring. the scene would’ve been amusing had it not been for the tender romance of the moment, a few minutes to get away from the beloved chaos of family celebrations and to pretend the whole world rotated on its axis, served its purpose, for only jude and you. 

“i love you, too. so much, jude.”

you sigh into the warming summer air, silently asking the sun to rise a little later so that you can fawn over your lover's features in the moonlight for as much time as you want.

yourusername • 18h

liked by judebellingham and others

yourusername celebrating love with my love 💒

view all 57,374 comments

judebellingham can’t wait for our turn 💍❤️

↳ yourusername ilysm 🥹❤

user1 THE LAST PIC????????? RUE,,,, WHEN WAS THIS????

user2 🥳🥳🥳CONGRATULATIONSSS🥳🥳🥳 (i’m gatecrashing the wedding)

trentalexanderarnold best man position still vacant? 🫣

↳ jobebellingham unfortunately no 🙄

user3 we need the proposal story asap!!!

↳ user4 and a whole album worth’s of pictures too !!!!!

[reallyhardydraws]

legolas, as portrayed by yazdan qafouri in the watermill theatre's revival of the LOTR musical from last summer.

still obsessed with it, and very much enamoured with this south asian inspired look for legolas in his red kurta and sash. love love love it.

[commissions open!] 🧝‍♂️🏹🍃

[midnightorchids]

Jason x south asian!reader headcanons (I wrote this with a Pakistani fem!reader in mind. However, I did try to keep it neutral)

- He feeds you samosas and ties your hair for you, while your henna is drying. He has the stupidest grin plastered on his face while doing so, it makes his heart feel full

- He studies your native language to try and communicate with you and your family better. He gets really shy when he uses the wrong grammar or pronounces a word wrong

- Jason has a very special place in his heart for Urdu because it is one of the South Asian languages of poetry (I speak this one lol)

- He definitely learned Urdu, Farsi and Arabic for literary and poetic reasons, now you have to hear him recite different sonnets in multiple languages every day (so cute)

- He studied Islamic history and Hindu scriptures. It piqued his interest and if any of these religions apply to you, then it helps him understand you better

- You always make him wear kohl or kajal in his eyes and he never says no

- You sit on his lap and gently add the kajal in his waterline and he can’t help but smirk in excitement. He likes being close to you

- Jason likes to wear black kurtas. Need I say more? They hug his arms so deliciously, he looks so pretty in them

- Your dupatta (scarf) got caught on his watch one time and he couldn’t stop smiling

- He kisses your hand and calls you meri dunya (my world) and meri jaan (my life)

- He’s disgustingly cringe, he watched an old Shahrukh Khan movie with you once and did THE pose (im crying)

- Orange theory but with pomegranates

- Ultimate brown dad behaviour, let me explain, you tell him you like something and the next day there’s a million packets of it

- He’s a Noor Jehan listener and Galib quoter (me)

- Whenever you wear a lengha or any flowy outfit, he’ll spin you around before pulling you in for a kiss

[roariescorner]

DESI/INDIAN MIKU REAL!!!

I love the international miku trend sm so i wanted to join!!

She's playing the sitar in the first image and offering the PEAKEST of peak foods, FISH FRY!!! it's my favorite food!!

she's wearing a type of south asian attire, the kurta, here. I've worn one before, and it's quite comfortable!

Though I'm indian, I was born and raised in AMERICA [cue bald eagle noises and national anthem]. I know a little bit about indian culture, but not that much. I hope did good here!!

Fun fact: Bharatanatyam dancers use "Alta," a red dye, on their hands and feet to draw attention to them. I wanted to add that to Miku since she's an idol! I've also seen red sharpie being used for this purpose.

sitar drawing inspiration by rixypill!

Will probably post more drawings of desi miku soon!!

[cult-of-the-eye]

@itisonlyeyes your henna design has made me think about jmart south Asian wedding and I'm Not Ok

Jon in a beautifully gorgeous deep green, bedazzled kurta/lehenga hybrid so like slightly more masculine kurta with some small, neat embroidery on the edges with a flowy huge lehenga skirt

He didn't go for the dupatta/orna/scarf cause hes still not great with potential restrictions of movement

He's all decked out in the bridal jewellery - my man is wearing the Biggest silver earrings, he's got the massive fake nose piercing that connects to his hair and hes SLAYING. (Maybe his grandma passed them down??)

You bet he's got that brooding bridal look down!! Although he sees Martin and he cannot keep it up for the life of him he's just a smiling mess

There's no loud music. (I know I'm sorry but it's them, the music is simple and meaningful and the guest list is small so its not quite the usual south Asian wedding but they enjoy themselves)

Martin is dressed very smartly in a light blue kurta, with billowing embroidery etching it's down up the kurta's sleeves and following in henna down his hands

He'd wearing light blue nail polish to match and his hair is dyed the same colour at the edges

I like the idea of Jon and martin sitting down and talking about what they wanted and coming up with the rituals not cause of the religious or cultural significance but because of what it meant to them specifically.

Like they do vows cause Martin has always loved that part of weddings and let's be honest, he just wants a chance to say nice things about Jon without him protesting and Jon agrees cause of literally the same reason (they're not good at compliments)

They do the turns around the fire but they hold hands instead of being tied to each other cause they feel like it represents how they chose each other and they do 15 turns cause it's Martin's lucky number (they first met on the 15th October 2015)

They skip the haldi cause sensory issues

They instead get everyone to make their own flower garlands and give them to each other and obviously Jon and Martin make each others flower garlands and Jon mostly agrees to it cause Martin seemed enthusiastic about it and he did want to keep the giving each other flower garland ritual but he gets the Most Excited about it in the end cause hes super detail oriented about his, making sure each flower is specifically positioned how he wants it to and Martin's going off just vibes. They must be the correct vibes but vibes nonetheless.

I love the idea of doing the bride's side has to steal the grooms shoes and the grooms side has to stop this from happening so we can get Shenanigans (Tim is the most intense about this. Gerry comes a close second. Sasha wins though.)

There aren't so much sides, cause everyone's friends with both, which makes the shoe game even more intense cause you never know when people will swap sides.

Gerry does their henna. He just gives off good at drawing vibes I dunno.

[bobateababe]

✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. going to a relatives wedding south asian ver. - w/Sukuna .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿

pairing: Sukuna x desi reader

Sukuna hasn't been to a lot of weddings, so the amount of confusion on his face is almost laughable when he sees how excited you are for your cousin's wedding.

However, he adores the way your eyes light up and how excited you get when you explain to him that desi weddings are filled with dancing and food and lots of people!

Sukuna's eyes go full blown with astonishment as you stride out of your room, wearing a red lehenga adorned with a garland in your hair and beautiful gold bangles clinking at your wrists. He can't help but lean back and stare at you, a faint smirk playing on his face as you brush by him; rushing to get your sandals.

He grabs you by the waist, holding you firmly as you walk past him. He whispers in your ear "Look at you, my darling girl..dressed like the Queen she is." His arms trail down to your wrists and he grasps them "You look as if you were made to sit on a throne" he purrs, slowly lowering yourself on his lap.

"-S-sukh" you managed to choke out your affectionate nickname for him. "I-i need my shoes.."

"Sweet girl" he murmurs. He grabs your face from behind, squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pucker. "The princess needs her shoes does she?" "Actually" you answer him, smirking slightly while looking deep into his eyes. "The Queen demands that her King put her shoes on for her." He laughs loudly, finding your demands amusing, adorable almost. Notheless, he obeys; kissing your henna covered hand and looking up at you. "Very well my queen"

The two of you arrive at your cousin's wedding, around the time of the reception. Sukuna decided to wear a red kurta as he said, "It would only be right to match with my queen." making you scoff yet blush at his act. Dark kajal surrounds his eyes complementing his magnificent dark red irises.

The reception lasts late into the night. Sukuna tastes Indian food for the first time, which he actually loves! He loves the spicy taste, not a single boring feeling on his tongue.

You force Sukuna to try gulab jamun. Begging and tugging at his sleeve. "Please 'kuna! Please it's so yummy!" you look up at him, batting your eyes, and looking at him with desperation; trying every trick in the book to make your boyfriend try the sticky sweet.

You bring the spoon to his lips, the sticky residue slightly coating his lips. He brings his mouth over the spoon, not breaking eye contact with you as he licks the sticky honey from his lips. "It tastes just like you" he breathed.

You smacked his shoulder for saying that, as a group of aunties were sitting right behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment finally comes, when they finally announce that it's the time to dance! You whoop and cheer along with the others as hoards of your cousins, uncles and aunties all rush to the dance floor.

You drag Sukuna to the floor with you. Laughing and giggling as your favorite song starts to play. "Dance with me!" you shout over the noise. "aao naachen!"

It gets messy real fast. Your shoes are kicked off in some random area, your dupata slid off your neck a while ago and pooled to the floor. You can feel Sukuna's firm hands on your hips as you move them up and down. His eyes watch intently as you spin around him, your red lehenga flowing just grazing your ankles, as your feet move in perfect coordination with your body.

To Sukuna, you looked just like a flower in the wind. Delicate, yet fierce and swaying with the wind. He turned his body to watch you spin, watching the pure bliss on your face and the excitement that came with it.

He grabbed you hand suddenly, disrupting your spin and causing you to be thrown into his chest as he caught you by the small of your back. "You really are a Queen my sweet girl." he whispered. His arms snake around your waist and pull you closer.

"Hmm am I now?" you smirked and slowly started to sway with him. "mm, not only that but a little minx too" he muttered, kissing your neck making you shiver in response. "You love it though." you retort, circling your arms around his shoulders playing with the back of his hair. He throws his head back, chuckling lightly. "You know I do."

sry ya'll I know that was really long but honestly I was debating if I should write a story or do more head cannons. (I'll probably do a poll abt it). constructive criticism is always welcome in the comments, i love to hear about ways to improve my writing!

>3333

[miss-conjayniality]

sitarist jay (drabble)

genre: fluff

pairing: jay x gn south asian!reader

word count: 610

warnings: none

A/N: in honor of all the holidays coming up (holi, vaisakhi, ramadan/eid, etc.), AND also my srk x jay post that sparked desi enha discourse, this one goes out to all my desi engenes!!!! 🫶🏼 happy holi!!!! happy vaisakhi a month in advance. and a ramadan mubarak to those who celebrate.

soft desi engene hours. could u just IMAGINE sitarist!jay and dholi!you!?!??? 🥺

jay is grateful to have a lover who hails from such a gorgeous, rich culture that spans millennia. and as any connoisseur of culture would say - music isn’t just part of culture….it is culture. he’s been playing guitar for many years now. and he wants to venture out into other stringed instruments. and what better way than learning the sitar?

jay enjoys the calming, soulful, and twangy sound of the sitar. it sends him into a trance and he feels completely immersed in a different world. despite it being “different” from what he’s done before, he believes that the language of music is universal - one felt within the heart first and foremost.

he holds a deep reverence for south asian music. be it nusrat fateh ali khan, kishore kumar, mohammed rafi, noor jehan, or asha bhosle, he feels the timeless, evergreen spirit of such compositions pulse within his soul.

watching him learn the sitar is an endearing sight. ethereal even! seeing the level of dedication he has towards mastering such an art form warms your heart. he wants to learn bhajans, shabads, and ghazals for you. all he wants in life is to express his love for you through music. just chillin’ in his kurtas with the sleeves rolled up and his sitar by his side, showing you the ravi shankar songs he’s learned so far.

on the other hand, he too admires you for your passion for percussion. jay loves your appreciation towards the different types of dhol. he fawns over the euphoric feeling you get when hitting every thappi and tiparu and the way you chant your DHAs and DHINs while doing so. jay also appreciates the way you treat your dagga and tilli sticks like they’re your babies. he loves the swingy sound of dhol beats and the swagger you exude while you play.

jay sometimes gets annoyed when you pester him with the sound of your loud ass dhol while he’s peacefully and calmly practicing his sitar. but he knows it’s out of love and good fun. it’s the desi equivalent of the percussionist kids in band disrupting the ones who play the wind and brass instruments. antics aside, jay appreciates the lively spirit and camaraderie that comes with these musical clashes, cherishing the shared moments of cultural exchange and musical banter.

in the end, these musical escapades become cherished memories, shaping jay’s musical journey with a touch of spontaneity and joy. the blend of dhol and sitar, once seemingly contrasting, transforms into a celebration of diversity within your shared love for music. as the two of you continue your artistic pursuits, jay realizes that the moments of lighthearted banter and cultural exchange have added a special rhythm to the soundtrack of your relationship - one of seismic adoration.

with each note played and every shared laugh echoing in the air, jay acknowledges that your artistic pursuits have not only strengthened your musical connection with each other, but have also deepened your bond with him. the rhythm of seismic adoration encompasses the highs and lows, much like the crescendos and decrescendos in your collaborative performances. through the language of music, your relationship thrives, creating a symphony of understanding, support, and shared passion that resonates far beyond the notes of your instruments.

[ali-s4cc]

ASAD | outfit

Full Body Kurta Suit - Traditional South Asian Men's Clothing

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Male | Teen - Elders

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[pumpkinsy0]

thought of desi johnny for almost 2 years and never drew him srry king

look at this young south asian man in his kurta and a shawl to keep himself warm he got that shit on

if i drew the cultural attire wrong in anyway pls do tell me to keep in mind for if i ever draw johnny again in a blue moon

[misalpav]

south asians, the internalized bigotry needs to stop. we don't need to come to the usa or any other country for that matter and lose any semblance of our culture/religion. we don't owe that to anyone. people are allowed to wear a kurta, bindi, jhumkas, hijabs, or any other kind of cultural clothing of their choice. accents take time to adjust to and nobody has to change it the second they step into another country. it's okay to be proud of religion, food, language, clothes, etc. people who don't conform immediately or at all for that matter should not have to expect discrimination. hell, we certainly don't owe it to western society to integrate into their lifestyle, especially in countries like usa and australia where white people themselves are immigrants. quit the self-hate and the hate on other south asians, it doesn't make you cool.

[cishetlessfashion]

Desi/South Asian somewhat formal flamboyant dramatique butch drag king fashion with lots of accessories for anon Tactical gear Kali pvc patch Mustard yellow skinny scarf Blue and gold shawl Holographic Ganesh pin Lotus flower cufflinks Ganesh tie Kaleidoscope modi kurta vest Salvador Dali elephant necklace Hanuman brooch Yellow kurta pyjama

[cosmicnovaflare]

So I know how much you love exploring the world through historical fashion, and since the Eastern Commonwealth apparently spans all of Asia, have you dabbled in any of the more uncommon Asian garments for Cinder/Kai? I've been thinking about Cinder wearing a Saree but I'm also curious about Thai, Vietnamese, Burmese, Cambodian etc.

I have so many outfits saved that I’ve never got to (as I regularly fail them in practice). A lot of the time I’ll start out with a specific idea before I fail and revert back to hanfu since I’ve spent the most time practicing that so far. I want to make sure I do it right, so I’d rather wait until it looks correct. My current work for Kai will hopefully be a yellow Manchu (Yeah that was a lie, I failed again in colour and cloth in the middle of writing this.) I think both the E.C and Luna would wear chut thai (with makuṭa headdresses on the moon) and sarees, salwar kameez, dhoti kurtas, and other similar garments. I imagined Kai’s wedding attire in Cress/Winter to be traditional Thai wedding menswear with the “sash” being a sabai? For festivals I’ve always wanted to try drawing them in a white kosobe with a red hakama (there’s probably a single word for this outfit that I do not know) as well as try out something Mongolian, though I have no specific ideas with that, just a lot of options. Heading back south, anything that resembles lavalavas (skirts, wraps, trousers, etc) would probably be very common in the E.C. Sinhs could be common both in the E.C and the moon, maybe having a unique pattern depending on what sector you’re in. Perhaps the common fabrics used in things would change, which would be a way to include Persian silks and other fabrics, meshing traditional material with other cultural clothes (I think this would pair really well with Áo dài.) I can see garments like the deel and nekhii deel still being worn as everyday clothes, especially for warmer climates. Since the E.C seems fairly homogeneous, (maybe due to Asia being hit the hardest by the last world war, repeat imperialism, foreign government control, or assimilation) all these garments could start mixing and matching with each other. Maybe some of these things are global. This is how traditional clothing has merged and become its own thing in the past. I just really like to imagine these things being embraced because we have already experienced clothing bans and forced assimilation so much, and the world in these books has probably experienced more. Even before humans had the FOXP2 mutation that allowed us to understand language, we were making jewellery and art that meant something to us. It seems trivial, but keeping these things alive seems really important in both real life and fiction.

Once again, I am so very sorry if I have referred to things incorrectly. I’ll have some access to research papers that could help in a few weeks, but I am very much not a smart person, but I will still try my best.

[desi-lgbt-fest]

As a young sapphic who's still in high school and coming into her identity, it gives me chills sometimes when my mom laughs and talks of a possible near future where she hopes to marry me to a boy(and goes on to talk of how he must be from the same community and I should be glad I'm not marrying my cousin). It makes me wanna work harder and get a scholarship to go abroad as far as I can. Any advice or hope?

Hey anon, first of all, thank you so much for sharing, and know that you're not the only one who feels this way.

This is a bit anecdotal but let me tell you a story of how, literally two days ago, I went to this local south asian pride event. In hindsight, there weren't a lot of people there. Maybe upwards to about 80 to 100 people? However, when I arrived, I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of queer desi people just present. And I'm talking trans people, genderqueers, asexuals, people in poly relationships, and people of all genders in lehengas and kurtas and rainbow saris. There were people out to their parents and even more not out, preferring to live freely and safely.

Even as a queer person myself, I could not comprehend how many people there were like me and different from me. And I am fortunate to live in a very tolerant country. I remember saying out loud "Oh my god there are so many people here," and someone replying "Yeah, we exist outside of the screen too." I think it occurred to me then that maybe it's not a matter of me being alone, but me choosing to be because I'm always overwhelmed, shy, or terrified of the consequences of not meeting expectations.

Basically, anon, I'm trying to say that there is always hope. And often, community is much closer to you than you think. There are many of us living in similar circumstances. However, just like you, we fight in our own little ways. Some of us push back marriage to "focus on our careers", some might indoctrinate their parents in tiny ways until they are a little more tolerant than before, and others straight up come out after they have established themselves independently (these people are braver than any soldier to me). Either way, no matter the circumstance, we are always fighting.

Study hard, and go to a college far away. Or study hard and go to a college close by. Stay with your parents or don't stay with them. Get a job, or don't. Either way one day you will be an adult and you will find that community, and you will learn how to fight even harder than before.

[questioning-culture-is]

Questioning as to whether I’m transmasc or cultural misogyny just fucked me up good (south asian swag)

Puberty was a horror show like nobody was terrible about it but my body,,, growing shit that made my life harder,,,, bleeding once a month and for what. Not ever wanting bio kids and being horrified by pregnancy despite the celebration of it in my culture. Sherwanis instead of sarees with the kurta being a compromise, dressing masc for “”practicality “” but preferring it on every level. I don’t mind skirts sometimes and ballet is fine and stuff but it’s very much a feminine costume I’m wearing when my default state is Not That. Just very confused all the time haha

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