#for you and me pakistani suits

[evilwickedme]

It's very frustrating to talk about fridging bc the original point of it was like a very specific criticism of how minorities are treated in comic books in particular and it's now been universalized so much people think it means "killing a woman off because she's a woman" or "killing any character to motivate another character" (the definition according to tvtropes fyi, kill it with fire kill kill kill kill). Fridging isn't bad because you're killing a character as motivation, and it's not bad because you're killing a minority off, it's bad because it's a pattern of behavior from an industry overrun by white men writing and drawing and editing those stories. You're allowed to kill a woman off if it suits your story, but the issue was that women are constantly getting hurt or depowered or raped or killed off to motivate other, non-coincidentally male characters.

The problem that stood behind the original women in refrigerators website was that the narrative that the comic book industry at large was telling was that the purpose of female characters was to get hurt in order to motivate some other guy. Kyle Rayner's girlfriend gets stuffed in a fridge, we're not sad because her life got taken from her too soon, we're sad because Kyle Rayner just lost his girlfriend. Gwen Stacy gets killed by the Green Goblin, we're not sad because she didn't get to live a full happy life, we're sad because she didn't get to live a full happy life with Peter Parker. That is not to say that the story doesn't still get told. Peter going after the Green Goblin is horrific and terrible and amazing and leads to some great plot and character development. But the choice was not to hurt Peter himself, not even to threaten his loved ones but not actually harm them, the choice - CHOICE! - the writers in the comic book industry consistently made was to hurt a character who was already part of a marginalized group, and to do that for the benefit of a (presumably) white male cishet able bodied main character's narrative.

I speak mostly in past tense because once fridging took hold in the collective popular consciousness it didn't disappear completely, but it did fall out of favor in being used so blatantly. It became isolated cases rather than the main feature of one of the best selling batman books of all time. Characters get killed off occasionally, and those characters are even sometimes members of minority groups, and biases still inform those writing choices, but I'm struggling to remember reading a comic in the last couple of years that specifically fulfills the criteria for fridging.

Anyway if you're reading this in context, you know that at the end of this month (may 2023) Marvel is planning to celebrate the most famous fridging of all time by absolutely not learning their lesson and fridging another character. They're being lazy about it, too - they've decided to do it to Kamala Khan in Peter Parker's book, two characters that mean close to nothing to each other, and being extra awful by making it a Pakistani Muslim woman being killed off during AAPI month, and so far the information we have doesn't even involve Kamala's own friends and family and superhero team mourning her at all. It's supposed to motivate Peter, because it's part of his book, and it's also supposed to parallel Gwen Stacy, and they chose to do... This. Kamala is a wildly popular and beloved character who deserves better, and frankly Peter deserves better too. If you're going to fridge, at least do it well.

But I'm also already seeing white men, who supposedly agree with me and think this is bad, saying, well it's for MCU synergy, not "because she's a female" or "because she's not a white character" (direct quotes don't @ me). And firstly, ok, way to assume the rest of us didn't also catch up to the obvious conclusion that marvel comics is doing MCU synergy, AGAIN. The thing is that those aren't separate concepts at all? Or well, they are, but they don't negate each other. They're trying to do MCU synergy and make Kamala into a mutant, but they could've done that a million other ways, just as cheap and not as offensive - a simple retcon would've sufficed, they just did that a few years ago with Franklin Richards.

They chose to do it by killing her off, and they chose to kill her off in somebody else's book to motivate him rather than tell a story about her, and they chose to do it while celebrating Gwen's fridging for some fucking reason. This is context that, when removed from the situation, makes the whole thing meaningless. And you can say a lot about Gail Simone, but that she didn't have a Goddamn point is not one of them.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Eight.

A new week means a new update, besties! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,338

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

Those assembled at the table sat in tense wait, the vacant seats to be filled by Elliot as well as a mystery party seeming vast to the major players within London’s criminal network, the meeting watched by eight very intimidating, heavily armed African men dotted around the room.  

Truly, they assumed they had everything sewn up. With Sean gone, as they concluded, Elliot was now the top player of the investors choosing, and with Asif and Lale exiled, London was all theirs. As the dawn broke on a new morning, a new London, they were primed to begin discussing the new balance, the new alliance and shift in power.  

If only that decision was truly theirs to make... 

A set of high heels tapping against the smooth, white floor alerted them to the arrival of another, shocked eyes widening as they took in the last person they’d expected. She was pristine in her black suit, Lale taking a seat at the table, nodding to Luan.  

“Lale, you... I thought you were...” Ed began, the Kurdish woman’s eyes snapping onto him. 

“All great forces have their resurrection.” 

“And Asif?” 

She smirked, reaching for the provided glass of water and taking a sip. “Now there is somebody who shall not be making a return.” The Pakistani might have saved her rather than ended her, as all had thought, but truly, it had been another to elevate her. Asif’s proposal had been good, but, as she’d learned after being helped up off the floor within his home out in Pakistan, by a member of the militia who had stormed the room and gunned him and his associates down, Catherine Cavanagh’s offer was better.  

Lale was shrewd enough to always side with better.  

If shock was the prevailing emotion at seeing the Kurdish gang leader alive and well, it could only be described as all-out disbelief when the final player revealed themselves, Catherine Cavanagh striding in to take her place at the table. 

“I apologise for keeping you all waiting, but there was a loose end that I had to ensure remained tied up. Suffice to say that Elliot Finch shall not be joining us.” she began, incredulous stares all pointing right at her. “Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I have returned. What, did you just assume the Cavanagh’s to have died when my father did? Oh, no. No.”  

“Catherine,” Marian began, her name bitten frostily between her teeth, Rin holding up a finger. 

“No. Now is not the time for you to talk. Now is the time for you to listen, Marian. Surely you can do that, can’t you? I mean, I know being a rotten, duplicitous shit of a mother who sold her sons out for her own profitable gain comes naturally to you, but perhaps listening should, too.” 

The young woman had some balls, she thought, but if nothing else, Catherine was her father’s daughter to a fault.  

Marian was incensed. “I beg your fucking pardon?” 

Straightening in her seat, Rin chuckled. “It is amazing, what can be attained through the assistance of hidden surveillance, or a direct set of ears,” she began, turning to Luan. “Thank you. My father always held you in great esteem. This does not change for me.”  

Marian’s guts twisted, knowing that her associate had been working for another all along, their alliance not as tightly forged as she’d once thought.  

“Now, to the rest of you. The investors you once worked under are no more. I saw to that personally, the ins and outs of such being none of your concern. Moving forward, the direct overlord you now report to is me, the fresh investors backing me fronting enough cash to keep business running just as smoothly and efficiently as it always did. We tire of the battlefield London has become. I think we can all agree that gang warfare is attracting entirely too much heat upon our enterprises. It is time to revert, and that means each and every one of you falls in line.” 

A snort sounded through the quiet of the room, Catherine turning to view Mehmet, leader of the Persian mafia. “Do we have a problem?” 

“Yes, Miss Cavanagh. We do if you expect me or my organisation to take orders from a little girl.”  

She smirked, cocking her head, her eyes narrowed as she stood. A little girl was the teenager who had left London seven years previously. The woman who stood in her place was far from it, a hardened criminal, a prolific arms dealer who solely ran her now late father’s enterprise in and out of Africa.  

In short, she was not to be fucked with. Mehmet might’ve done well to acknowledge that prior to opening his mouth and letting his misogyny flow out for all to see.  

Her hand then reached into her jacket, pulling a glock from her concealed holster and firing upon him. He slumped, sliding from the chair onto the floor, blood beginning to pour from the single bullet hole in his forehead. Her eyes then turned to her nearby associate Atticus, who stood primed and ready. “Find his next in line and offer my terms. If he does not comply, scrub them all.”  

He nodded. “Boss.” 

Her threat needed no interpretation, Rin continuing to slowly walk around the table after holstering her weapon once again. “The laundering for narcotics will continue through Dumani Finance, Ed and Shannon I would like to keep you at the helm of such. Everyone sitting at this table, be assured that your cash will be washed, the drug machine will continue to turn, and from the ashes, the Wallace Corporation will rise, along with the buildings that shall once again begin dotting the London skyline.” 

“May I ask, Catherine,” Ed began, diplomatic in his address as always, understanding well how the balance of power had turned on its axis. He also had no desire to be shot in the head if she so much as gauged the tiniest whisper of disrespect. “Why do you plan to elevate Sean Wallace once more? With Dumani Finance running the legitimate front, surely you need no further holdings?” 

“Not for drugs, Ed, you are correct. For the guns that I will continue to run into Africa and the Middle East – Kurdistan especially - I very much do. My father’s footing in this city slipped the moment he became ill; I have now returned to stamp my mark upon it.” 

Her nod to Lale at the mention of her homeland was reciprocated, the pieces of Catherine’s plan all tying together very neatly. “My proposal is quite clear, ladies and gentlemen. You either work in my new London or die in your old one. I feel my offer is more than fair. You will run your respective helms, but ultimately answer to me. Going forward, our new investors intend to make you all extremely wealthy people. It is now up to you, whether you sink or swim.” 

They all looked to be accepting of her proposal, each leader voicing that entirely, all but Marian. With her son being given his power back, she knew that left no place for her in this new London, not with how Sean now viewed her. She left the meeting quietly, while drinks were poured, hands were shaken, and brand-new alliances formed. They did not loiter for long, each of them filing out, the second youngest woman within the room halted by an elegantly manicured hand upon her shoulder. 

“Oh, and just one more thing, Lale,” Rin began, pressing that hand to her shoulder as she leaned in close to her ear. “If you so much as even wink at Sean Wallace again, I will cut your fucking tits off with a rusty razorblade. Clear?”  

The Kurdish woman smirked, lifting her chin. “You have some fucking balls to make such threats against me, Catherine.” 

“And you have the entirety of the money that funds the freedom of your people running through a fucking empire that I ultimately preside over, as well as the guns used for them to continue the firefight for said freedom supplied at ten percent over cost. Remember that.” 

Rin might not have wanted him, but that did not mean anybody else could have him. Besides, she needed him focused, not getting himself caught up in anything swayed by his rampant libido. Not that Lale was ever likely to open her legs to him again after Sean had sold her out like that. 

He had a penchant for wronging his lovers, it seemed.  

Heading back to the fleet of cars, she and her African associates all left, bar the men who remained to clean up the former Persian mafia boss’s corpse.  

“Silas, stop at McDonald’s on the way. I could murder someone for a McMuffin,” she spoke, the man turning with a frown. 

“You eat that shit?” Reaching, he poked her slender thigh. “You will become chubby, boss.” 

“Oi, you cheeky fucking knob!” she scolded, smacking his arm as he hissed a laugh. “Fucking watch who you’re talking to! Besides, it might be shit, but there’s no McDonald’s in Kenya, so you have no idea whether it’s worth the calories. Trust me, it is.” 

He made a contemplative face. “Then I try this McMuffin also.” Fifteen minutes later, and he was chomping through the double sausage version of the breakfast item, Rin happy with her bacon alternative. “I accept I was wrong, boss. Definitely worth the calories.”  

“See?” she spoke, washing it down with a sip of orange juice. “Told you. I’m never wrong, am I?” 

He snorted a laugh. “And when you are, you are still right.”  

“Exactly.”  

For the last seven years of her own exile to Africa, taking charge of her father’s gun running enterprise porting in Mombasa from the reserve that lay twenty miles north, Silas and Sokoro had not only been her fiercest protectors, but her genuine closest friends. The men had even followed her across an ocean, to a land neither were familiar with in order to keep their titles as heads of her security, which comprised of a fifteen-man team, all ex-Kenyan military.  

It was a well-paid job, and Rin about as delightful and funny as she was truly formidable, the latter they’d both had a hand in bringing out more from anything to skills in weaponry to furthering her proficiency in one-on-one combat. In short, they had assisted in priming her before returning to London, ready to take the criminal empire as hers.  

She’d done so with such finesse, Silas was nothing but proud. As her father would have been.  

“Morning, love.” She was greeted warmly by the embrace of her mother upon entering the kitchen, Diane pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How did it all go?” 

“As expected, only one protested. We’re exactly where we should have always been, head and shoulders above the rest. I suppose I ultimately have you to thank for that.” 

Of course, the notable people who were now funding the investment side of their empire were all contacts close to Diane, persons of extreme wealth, power and influence. “Well, I don’t like to toot my own horn.” 

“Oh, bollocks, mum,” Rin snorted, moving to the coffee machine. “You toot it so much, anybody would think the cavalry were charging in.”  

Although they’d been separated for seven years, their relationship had grown much fonder than it once was, most notably in the last five months since Rin’s return to be close to her father while he was dying, as well as putting the wheels in motion to facilitate the Cavanagh takeover of London.  

Diane laughed, nodding to the machine. “I’ll take an espresso, if you’re offering.”  

“Ah, I was just about to make one of those for somebody else.” Even after seven years, she remembered how he took his coffee.  

“Hm.” Diane’s face was sour as she hummed her answer, tucking her hair behind her ears. “The ginger twat, I take it? He's in the conservatory at present, wisely staying out of my way.”  

“Yes, mum. The ginger twat.” She heard a snort behind her, turning to see a clearly entertained Sokoro. “How’s he behaving?” 

“White man barely says boo to a goose, boss. The doctor come in to check him, give him progress on his brother. Billy is well, arm is stitched and clean, eh.”  

Rin nodded, handing the espresso to her mother before making a second. “Good, I’m glad he isn’t dead. He’s a sweet soul, Billy Wallace.” Much sweeter than his brother, that was for sure. In saving Sean’s life, there was no way she intended to allow his brother to perish, sending him to a private medical facility for immediate assistance. 

It was upon arrival there that he’d been rushed into the care of a doctor whom for years had been paid well to ask no questions over the treatment of certain gangland related injuries. That very doctor had only left Mulford Hall ten minutes prior to her arrival home, after checking the health of her unwelcome house guest.  

Once she’d prepared the coffee’s, the conservatory was where she headed, finding Sean in there, wearing the black jeans and dark brown sweater she’d sent a member of staff out to fetch. Noting that she’d gotten the sizes right to how she remembered him, it was not without a feeling of self-loathing, noticing that the thin knit sweater fitted a little snugger over his biceps than she was expecting, an area that seemed to have filled out more.  

Damn her hormones for reacting. 

“Thank you,” he spoke, taking the coffee from her outstretched hand, Rin stepping back to seat herself at the small table by the door opposed to by his side upon the sofa. “So, do I get to know yet, why I have been saved and brought within the frosty confides of Mulford Hall? If looks could kill, your mother would have withered me three times by now.” 

“Can you fucking blame her?” she spluttered, pausing in taking the first sip from her steaming cappuccino.  

He winced ever so slightly. “I suppose not.” A pause followed. “Now, the reason why I am here. Shall we get to it?” 

Even when at a disadvantage, the man demanded to know the lay of the land. “London is no longer in the hands of the investors, or at least not the ones you knew. A new kingpin has risen to power, backed by a brand-new set of investors.”  

He lifted his chin. “And who have you chosen to rise to this role?” 

Oh, it was a delivery she’d been greatly looking forward to. “Me.”  

And there was the payoff, his brow furrowing, clearly not expecting her reply. “Excuse me?” 

“You fucking heard.” Her statement was delivered with all the biting chill of a Siberian winter, placing her coffee down. “Me. I control London. Well, myself and Luan, Lale, the Dumani’s and a few other notables from their respective outfits. I preside over them all, though.” 

“Wait,” he frowned, unable to believe his ears. “Lale isn’t dead?” 

“No, Sean. Her being dead does nothing conducive for my running of arms further into the Middle East. I’m sure by the time she catches up with you, though, you’ll probably wish that she was.”  

She was taking way too much pleasure in this. His jaw tightened, and after the slugging he’d received in the early hours, it was an action which hurt like hell. “And where the fuck do I fit into all of this, exactly?” 

“Back in your old role, running your family business. The Dumani’s front for the drug cash, and you will front for the weapons I will continue to run through Africa and the aforementioned Middle East, eventually South America, too.” Oh, she was so, so pleased with herself, and he knew he deserved it, every ounce of it, but fuck. It stung like hell. He had his freedom; but it was her boot that trod upon his coattails.  

“Why me?” 

“Because as insufferable, impulsive and reckless as you are, Sean, I need the Wallace Corporation revived. With the extra capitol from my gun running empire, I need legitimate footings in London to keep the cash washed, hence why you need to return to your place and this time truly refrain from fucking everything up,” she explained succinctly, sipping her coffee.  

“So, Singer came to you as well then, yes?”  

She snorted a laugh. “No, Sean. Singer fucking works for me.”  

Fucking hell. Her words rocked him, learning of the reach she had, the power, how high she’d risen to be able to pull off what she had. While he’d slipped, she’d ascended. Quite deserving a fate, really, considering what he’d done to her. Still, it filled him with no sense of joy that he was effectively in her pocket now.  

While he’d gotten back what he’d coveted with such determination, the Wallace name on top again, it was not without its pitfalls. The greatest being that he would still answer to somebody else, in this case a woman who quite clearly loathed him. He was alive, free of his enemies, free of the investors, but without the freedom or dominance that he craved.  

“How did you do it?” he questioned, lifting his drink from the table and taking a careful sip. He was in more pain than he could ever remember being in, his throat feeling like it had been run over by a tank. “How on earth did you take out those of such power and influence?” 

“Easy,” she shrugged, her mouth curling into a smile. “I aligned myself with those of much greater power and influence.”  

“And me running the Wallace Corporation again, that was your only reason to do what you did for me?” 

She scoffed, beginning to laugh. “Sean, please don’t embarrass yourself by thinking I did it out of any fondness or feelings of magnanimity for you.” Her words were tinged with the kind of ice that didn’t exist in her eighteen-year-old self, Sean thinking it was a pity she seemed to have lost that warmth. “There was another reason, but you don’t deserve to be made privy to it just yet. If you behave, work well and become the kind of man who would have shown your father wrong in what he estimated of you, then you shall be.” 

He snorted softly. “Sounds ominous. And what if I demand to be informed right now?” 

Standing from her seat, Rin walked to the sofa, grasping his jaw and lifting his head sharply. He went to knock her hand away, her other grasping upon his delicate throat in dominance. “You are in absolutely no place to make demands of me. Seventh room on the right upstairs, there’s a guest bed made up for you. You can remain here until your old abode is liveable once more. If I were you, I’d spend most of my time up there. In fact, I insist upon it. Get the fuck out of my sight.” 

The stare they exchanged was weighted by both frost and fire, Rin eventually releasing her grip, picking up her coffee and sauntering back out, leaving Sean feeling as if somebody had cut off his air. He didn’t need the figurative of that so close after experiencing the literal, rubbing his sore neck as his brow furrowed.  

He had everything he wanted back, and none of it on his terms. He supposed he should have been grateful to her, yet the bile thrashed within his stomach like an angry serpent, spiny and cold, his grip upon the cup in his hand shaking as rage poured through him.  

There he was, a prisoner of his own actions, his own poor choices, at the beck and call of a woman whom he’d wronged so long ago, at her mercy entirely as she’d laid out her ground rules for him to abide by.  

And fuck, had she looked good while she’d been doing it.  

Damn her.  

[koukouture]

Random HCs abt command but specifically Hassen and Nikola

Note: “Command” just sort of refers to the people who hand out missions. So Celica, Asimov, Nikola and Hassen

Okay okay so Nikola very obviously Slavic coded, I think Russian bc he’s immune to the cold lol like in Luna’s interlude he’s watching Lucia train in the snow in nothing but a SUIT. That out of the way

A friend suggested that Hassen is Pakistani American and honestly? I can get behind that. I do think he’s only half tho bc this guy is a white man 💀 I’m sorry but being raised in an orphanage did not help him.

Nobody in command can cook. Absolutely nobody. Except for Celica. Bc that girl can do everything

I also think that Celica can speak like five different languages. She’s just built like that

I think it’d be funny if Celica is trying to explain something and she just blanks and forgets how to explain it in all five languages.

Nikola gains an accent when he’s really angry. It’s like a scale the angrier he gets the more Russian he gets. (idk but personally I gain a weird Filipino accent when I’m frustrated does this happen to anyone else?) If anyone hears him yelling in Russian they better hide because Nikola does not yell

Oh yeah and on that, I don’t think Nikola yells. Yes he’s very menacing and scary and you know when he’s mad, but he never yells. And it’s because he has a nice, tight lid and control over his emotions. Basically you REALLY have to screw up in order for him to yell at you.

Hassen is scary for a different reason and that is that he’s super patient. When he’s mad he’s twice as a scary because once again, you have to really fuck up. He can tolerate A LOT but the scariest thing in the world is an angry Hassen because it’s probably very justifiable

I think this is somewhat in part to him actually being rather cunning. I think he can be quite manipulative as well and that’s where he gets the patience from

Asimov canonically having an attitude is kinda funny to me. Everyone else is stepping on eggshells around the president and commander but Asimov’s unhinged ass is out here like “Uh yeah, so here’s the thing; you’re fucking wrong”

I think the little nerd is feisty and he’s a a little smug about it because he knows that he’s usually right

I genuinely think Hassen and Nikola are friends. You can pry this from my cold dead hands but they’ve known each other forever and they are both the leaders of the Kurono hate club. They trust each other so much I just know it

Nikola has siblings and they’re all high ranking Kurono members

Nikola strikes me as a rich boy that was funnelled into politics and shady business by his parents. Idk he gives that vibe

Asimov has a sweet tooth. Maybe because it helps him stay awake idk.

Hassen keeps alcohol in his office. It’s not even like a nice wine or anything it’s just cheap beer

Asimov has a dark sense of humour. I just feel like he cracks some very out of pocket jokes sometimes

I know Hassen is good with kids it is written all over him

I like to think that surprisingly, Asimov is too. Hey, kids LOVE cool science he would be a neat baby sitter and they’d make one of those little baking sofa volcanoes or smth

Celica is not. She has no idea how to deal with the little suckers but they all like her anyways bc funny lady say funny words

I’m sorry but Nikola is last place here I don’t think he can deal with kids at all 💀 I feel like it could mostly be rooted in his guilt from helping Kurono get actual children to experiment on. Yeah he just cannot with children. He doesn’t hate them though

Anyways that was it for today’s episode of Kou’s Delusions hope you enjoyed it!

[triviareads]

Tastes Like shakkar sounds so good! What are your top 5 books with brown or desi characters?

I enjoyed Tastes Like Shakkar a lot more than I was expecting, and have relentlessly been shilling it ever since. It's such a solid romance, the sex was good, a lot of the desi family stuff (the concept of being a "family manager") really hit, but it never took away from the main romance. Also, it's always nice to feel "seen" in the books you read even though it's pretty rare for me, but since this was specifically about Indian-Americans in the NY-NJ area, I really felt that.

Here are books with desi rep apart from Tastes Like Shakkar that are in my top 5:

Wrong to Need You by Alisha Rai: I debated putting my other fave by Alisha, Serving Pleasure, on here but Wrong to Need You portrayed a less-troubled desi family dynamic than Serving Pleasure so I'm picking this. Sadia is a widowed single mom grappling with her attraction to her brother-in-law, Jackson who's just returned after a self-imposed exile related to a mysterious fire. The restrained tension between these two is so hot (ok maybe not entirely restrained; she doesn't recognize him when he first returns and nearly has sex with him lol). Also, Sadia, like Jiya below, subverts the passive Asian woman trope on multiple levels, and based on the dynamic between her and Jackson.

I also liked how Sadia's large, close-knit Pakistani-American family was portrayed; they may not see eye-to-eye all the time, but they love one another and are willing to learn and compromise.

Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert: Zafir Ansari is truly a prince among men; him and Dani go viral for his rescue of her, and they start fake dating so his football charity can get some positive attention and donations. I like how Zafir was the romantic one among the two of them (and is a Bollywood romance fan, predictably), and is also great in the sack so... a winner, basically.

Also, Talia wrote this lovely exploration of grief (Zafir lost his dad and brother) and this really sweet relationship between Zafir and his SIL, and his family as a whole which I appreciated.

Sink or Swim by Tessa Bailey: I know Tessa has gotten a lot of flak for her portrayal of Latinx characters (which, deserved imo), and she's otherwise by and large stuck to writing white characters, but I can't deny she did pretty damn good job of writing Jiya and her family, who are desi, in this book. Here are my full thoughts on this.

The Roommate Risk by Talia Hibbert: Friends to lovers AND probably one of the only unrequited love books I'll ever recommend only because I love Jasmine so much (even while she's STRUGGLING to figure out that yes, Rahul has had feelings for her ever since she deflowered him on the... I wanna say library floor), and Rahul Khan is adorable and a stern, stern man who can absolutely get it. Similar to Zafir above, Rahul's dad also dies during the book (there's a lot of flashbacks) and Talia portrayed Muslim funeral customs and just the general family dynamics thoughtfully and in such an emotional way.

Hard Way by Katie Porter: lol my problematic fave because there are a few things that are just so weird in terms of rep: For one, the author keeps putting Sunita, the heroine, in "indian inspired" clothes, for example, some kind vaguely described professional suit inspired by a saree? Like, this woman is an attorney who works for a United States congressman. She's probably wearing a regular-ass suit like the rest of the people in that office. Also, her nickname in law school was the "Ice Queen of Bangalore" which was meant to be microaggressive, but the nickname literally makes 0 sense to me since she was raised in AMERICA, and considering half the Indians I know can't make the connection between being Kannadiga and possibly being from Bangalore, the capital of Karnataka, what are the chances these white mfs can, right? And the weird thing is, she narratively sort of "reclaims" her nickname, but it was such a cringe one to begin with and I don't even know why the authors bothered to put it in in the first place.

BUT Sunita is the only Kannadiga heroine I've ever read (I am. kannadiga, to clarify), she's a martial artist, she's struggling to work out her marriage with her husband (I'm a sucker for that shit), she's good with being kidnapped and zip-tied straight from the grocery store by her husband because it's a mutual fantasy, and she attends yakshagana performances (also very personal to me and my family)! Do you know how rare it is to see any of these things as far as brown heroines go? Maybe I have a lower bar for South Asian rep because there are so few romances that have South Asians who don't hate themselves/the culture AND have good sex scenes, but hopefully that will change as time goes on.

[mlmxreader]

An Officer & A Gentleman | Alejandro Vargas x trans!m!reader

anonymous asked: Here we go then(thank you though:))

I wanted to request for alejandro vargas x pakistani!ftm reader who is a pilot and they have this annual award ceremony thing and alejandro has never seen reader in a suit so when he sees reader this prompt is brought up "You're just... fuck me, you look so good right now" and later as reader is talking to some of his fellow air force pilots this prompt is brought up “Can I have this dance?”

Sorry if this is too specific or non-specific and if you don't feel comfortable doing it then its cool :)

-🦝

summary: the Pakistan Air Force holds various ceremonies and celebrations throughout the year, and usually, you don't see the point in going - but with Alejandro at your hide, maybe there was a reason to go.

tws: swearing

Usually, you never went to the award ceremonies or any of the other celebrations that were common for the Pakistan Air Force to host, as you never really saw much point in it; sure, the caterers that they always brought in always made the most magnificent food, and free drinks and dancing were appreciated as well - especially when they brought in the fancy coffee machines and had a choice selection of different iced coffees to choose from - but other than that, you didn't see much point. You only agreed this year because Ansharah had begged you to go, pleading with you and promising you that, if you did, her wife Salome would make her famous Nigerian party rice from a family recipe for you and Alejandro; if only for the fact that Salome would give you food, you agreed to go.

Alejandro was eager to go anyway, wanting to share pride in what you had done in your career and, admittedly, wanting to steal the food and the drinks and take advantage of the fact that it was all free; he had had traditional Pakistani food before, but nothing could come close to it being authentically made. It was why he always pestered you to cook when you were home together, and although you were happy to share with him some of your family's recipes and dishes, you did encourage him to bring some plastic tubs and sandwich bags so that you could have leftovers tomorrow. The only thing was that you were working, and wouldn't have time to pick Alejandro up before you had to go to the stupid ceremony thing; Ansharah and Salome said they would grab him on their way, and you were more than thankful towards them for that.

You only just had enough time to change into your uniform suit; dark blue, it suited you well, and with all your decorations on it, it looked even better. It fitted you perfectly, as was to be expected, but it was warm and it was comfortable; you did worry a while ago, that when you came out as trans, they would force you to wear the wrong one - but they didn't. They changed the uniforms immediately so that you had the correct one, without even needing to hear anything further. Now you had this one, and the dark blue blazer felt like a hug as you shrugged it on and did up the buttons before putting your cap on. You had to admit: you looked fucking good.

It was just about to begin when you met Ansharah, Salome and Alejandro outside, apologising breathlessly until you noticed the way that Alejandro looked at you.

"What?"

"Nothing, amor," he shook his head, hardly able to keep the grin from his face. "You're just... fuck me, you look so good right now... how come I've never seen you dressed like this before, huh?"

You shrugged, taking your cap off so that you could wipe the sweat from your forehead. "I don't wear it unless it's for formal bullshit like this."

Ansharah glared at you playfully. "Mūrakh, don't say that!"

"Well, it's true," you chuckled, shrugging. "Salome... piyār, did you bring the party rice?"

Salome nodded, smiling fondly at you as she tried not to laugh. "Yes, I did, obi ụtọ. It's in the car waiting for you both."

"You are a lifesaver," you told her seriously. "I love you."

"You're the little brother I never thought I'd have," she joked softly, playfully smacking the back of your head. "Go on, get inside."

Laughing, you took Alejandro's arm, and escorted him inside; there were a few greetings exchanged with higher officers, all very keen to meet the man who had captured their pilot's heart, all very impressed when Alejandro told them that he was a Colonel. One of the highest ranking officers, Ahmed, even said so himself that he was proud of you for managing to get with someone like Alejandro; he liked him, said he was a good man and if he ever needed a place for the Los Vaqueros to stay, there was always a bed for them with the Pakistan Air Force. You made your way around, stopping nearly constantly to fill up the sandwich bags and plastic tubs with food from the tables and from the waiters who were wandering around.

"Amor, we'll run out of space, soon," Alejandro pointed out.

"So we can stuff our pockets as well," you shrugged. "It's free food, Ale."

He laughed, shaking his head as a certain fondness came to his eyes; but then he noticed an old song by Chuck Berry playing, and he noticed that there was a space for dancing, Alejandro knew that before you left and before you made a move to go anywhere at all, he had to have just one dance with you. Just one dance, even if only because he could and because there was finally an excuse for it; Alejandro had to have just one dance with you, just one slow and steady dance, nothing fancy and nothing too energetic, just one slow dance. Just one dance where he could hold you close and he could feel your body against his own, where he could actually admire the suit that you were wearing. Just one dance.

There were some more officers to talk to, some more pilots and their spouses and partners to catch up with, and when one of the pilots from your squadron brought over his son, you picked one of him up, and grinned.

"You've gotten so big!" You chuckled. "When I last saw you, you were only diddy."

The child laughed, shaking his head. "I'm six now!"

"Six?!" You acted surprised. "Alejandro, can you believe he's six?"

"No, amor," Alejandro chuckled as he played along. "Six?"

"Six!" The child nodded. "akala, I'm nearly as old as you!"

You laughed as you nodded. "Nearly, kid, nearly... how are you doing at school?"

"I like Science!" He told you excitedly.

"Yeah?" You asked. "I liked science when I was in school, too."

"And me," Alejandro nodded. "I was good at it, too, mijo."

"So I can be like both of you!" The child beamed.

You shrugged. "Maybe - maybe if you're nice to your akala Alejandro, he'll help with your homework..." you pretended to whisper, "he's really good with the maths side of things."

"Your Tío (y/n) is no good with maths," Alejandro warned. "Absolutely terrible."

"I'm not that bad!" You told him with a yelp.

"You asked me what three times one was," he pointed out. "Mijo, don't let him near your homework."

"Go play with the others," you said, setting the child down gently. "I need to tell your akala Alejandro off."

"Is it because he called you stupid?"

"Yes," you laughed, ruffling his hair before sending him on his way. You turned to Alejandro with a playful glare. "I'm not that bad!"

"Sí, amor, you really are," he laughed when you playfully smacked his shoulder. "I love you, but you're no good with maths."

"I hate you," you chuckled, quickly kissing him. "Just for that, I'm gonna abandon you so I can go talk to Ansharah."

"You're evil," he told you, grinning.

But he wasn't going to let you be alone so easily, and when you started laughing and joking around with Ansharah and a few of the other pilots, Alejandro took his moment; he waited for a slow and gentle song to play before he came up behind you, tapping your shoulder as he smiled, handing his bag to Salome with a thankful nod.

"Amor, can I have this dance?"

Putting your hand in his, you nodded. "As long as you behave."

"No promises."

You grinned. Maybe it was worth attending these events after all; maybe you didn't want to show up just for free food that was promised for you. Maybe you would show up to the next one, so long as you could bring Alejandro along with you. As long as you had Alejandro at your side, maybe there was a point of going to these things.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

[khaleesiofalicante]

https://images.app.goo.gl/atxuUV9KW3n3BE2T6

https://images.app.goo.gl/egP1LSK5wNkAaryd7

https://images.app.goo.gl/AiQHKccqZ9AtJPAn9

https://images.app.goo.gl/no2PmRbkFjzfdNv56

some pakistani suits. you can search for more. i don't know your exact style so I couldn't give more better options but this is just to give you an idea. i think you'll look beautiful in them (nvm the fact that I haven't seen you ever but I know you will)

when you buy some suits, could you share them? ( the pictures I mean)

love 🩷

Thank you 💜💜💜

I’m not a big fan of the shalwars (which is what we call the suits you shared) but I love me some flared pants 🥹🥹

They are big and flared so it looks like a skirt when you wear it but it’s trousers 😎😎

I found two when I was shopping today and hopefully I can buy more!!!

And sure I’ll share pics if I buy something cool ;)

[themorguepoet]

Dq is bae huh? You watched one movie and act like you are some diehard kinda fan lmao. If SitaRamam didn't push the hindutva agenda but had a Muslim lead and Hindu princess I am sure you would be crying love jihad. You are telugu so ofc you are gonna act like its normal. Yall are the most gullible lot of the dravidian lands. I am glad that madness hasn't reached Kerala atleast. How many malayalam movies of dq have you watched even? I see none on your blog. Selective fangirling is real pathetic lmao. Also if you were gonna lie atleast make it believable. How does an Indian have pakistani teachers lol? You bringing up nfak is like how white people say "I cant be racist, I listen to black singers all the time"

Yes, dulquer salmaan is bae. You can't be more wrong, I have watched too many dq movies to count, I won't waste time listing them all here. I dont post everything I watch. Suit yourself with the assumptions.

Anon I can laugh off most of your ignorance but Sita Ramam slander is not tolerated on my blog. Tell me you didn't understand the movie without telling me you didn't understand the movie. No I wouldn't have cried love jihad if the movie with the Muslim lead and the Hindu princess followed the exact same storyline EXACT SAME. In that case I would have loved Fatima and Ali the same as I loved Sita and Ram.

I am not Telugu, funny you would assume that although I can see why. If you scroll through my blog though you will find Hindi, Bengali, Marathi, Tamil, Telugu, possibly one Kashmiri post and more. And none of the languages I mentioned are my mother tongues. So keep guessing.

Also, you hating on two entire states and a whole community? The blatant superiority complex and hate towards telugu people radiating in your sentence is so low. To be comfortable in your own skin and not compromise on your way of life isn't madness anon. Decolonise your mind. Kerala is a beautiful state and so is Andhra and Telangana. A lot of Telugu people live in Kerala and many Malyalis live in the telugu heartlands. Both of those linguistic families are a pride for the country so stop with your political divide. I don't even understand why you are bringing such random energy on my blog cuz I have never posted any proper political commentaries on my blog.

I can choose what to fangirl over. If I wanna obsess over dq for a month I will do it. You are probably new. My mutuals know how I post about the one same thing on a stretch for a while and then find something new and keep posting that instead. Selective fangirling isn't pathetic anon, you are.

I did not lie. I don't need to prove anything. Maybe consider that some Indians probably live in neutral countries where they interact with the rest of the world. Hence the pakistani teachers.

Fallacies bestie, all your fallacies are laughable. My point was, I appreciate all things good while taking pride in my own identity. I can post about Krishna and Dulquer salmaan in the same blog.

Your rant was very useless but I wanted to answer it anyways. There's more anons from you but i won't be answering anymore. I will just delete them.

@shut-up-rabert ye lo bhoi, maze le lo

[starlightshadowsworld]

your desi jason grace posts are giving me LIFE btw

Thank you!!!

I love them, love my boi so much. And making him Pakistani yess.

Here's some more Desi Jason headcannons for you 😊

Jason loves to hide secret messages in his mehndi.

He loves Gulab jamun, always gets 2 in a tub to share with Thalia.

Jason loves old dramas, he watches his mother's old shows when he feels homesick.

Urdu is Jason's first language though he had to relearn it after years of not using it.

He has messy handwriting but absolutely adores Urdu calligraphy and does it beautifully.

Jason has white and blue shalwar kameez and owns a grey lengha that was passed onto him by his mother (it went to Thalia but she felt it suited him better.)

He's very proud of his heritage but sometimes feels lost and out casted because of it. People don't think the son of Jupiter should look like him... And it hurts.

[purplesimmer455]

Cam took Piper up to her room, and they snuggled on her bed. "So, Cece and Hanh's wedding is coming up." Cam said as Piper snuggled with her. "I'm wearing my sage green suit that I showed you.” Piper grinned. “Oh, I love that suit on you, it fits perfectly and you look so handsome in it that I don’t think I’ll stop kissing you the whole night.” Cam grinned and said teasingly. “Why did you think I chose it? Also, what are you wearing?" She asked. Piper smiled coyly. "It's a surprise, Cammy." She said. "Oh come on." Cam said in the same tone, but Piper wouldn't tell her. "Pipes..." Cam murmured into Piper’s ear, knowing it would make her blush and it did. "I want you to see it and have your socks knocked off, I feel like you’ll love it so much on me that you won’t be able to stop kissing me either." Piper said, and Cam grinned. "Now I can't wait. Pipes can't I see a photo of you in it?" She asked, nuzzling Piper’s neck. "No, I want you to see it in person and be amazed." Piper said stubbornly and Cam sighed but smiled. "Okay, okay." She said, and took Piper’s hand. "I'm sure it’s beautiful because you always look beautiful in anything you wear." She added, and Piper smiled at her.

Meanwhile, Grace came over to visit Iseul, and she flushed as Iseul got up and kissed her cheek. Cam and Piper came downstairs then as well, and Piper greeted Grace. "Auntie Is told me so much about you." She said, and Grace grinned at a blushing Iseul. "Oh she did, did she?" She said, smiling. Plus Piper asked Grace if she's Pakistani, switching to Urdu as Cam chatted with Iseul. "I am, from my mum's side." Grace replied back, smiling. "Are you Pakistani too?" She asked, and Piper nodded. "From my mom Luna's side, I'm part Pakistani, Greek, Italian, and Chinese and from my mama Chrissy I'm part Sulanian and Bahamian." Grace’s eyes widened and she smiled. "Wow okay, so you're from so many places." Piper grinned. "Yup." Grace also asked Piper about her family and chatted with her.

After that Grace left, and Paenji and Min Jun headed to bed. Piper sat with auntie Is at the dining table and they talked. "Grace is pretty cool, auntie Is." Piper said. "You should definitely marry her." Iseul laughed. "I know, and I'm planning to, Pipes." She said. "You know, I'm glad you're going to be my auntie in-law one day, and we can go shopping at our fave stores, and hang out and Hanh and I will be your favorite nieces-in-law." Piper said half-jokingly, and Iseul laughed. "You're already planning that far ahead with Cam?" She teased. "Yup, we're going to get married in our mid twenties." Iseul nodded. "Honestly that sounds good that you guys are sure about each other." She said, and Piper nodded. "Auntie Megs told me that sometimes you just know when someone's the one for you." She said, and Iseul smiled at Megan's name. "Yeah, I can see Megs saying that, she's always been so sure of herself and confident and knowing what she wants and going after it, even something as simple as cajoling me into entering a metal working competition in college although I thought I could never compete with the pros." Iseul cleared her throat as Piper raised her brows but smiled. "Sorry Pipes, I got caught up in old memories with your auntie." Piper grinned. "It's all good, she does the same thing with you all the time saying 'Is and I did this in college' or 'I took Is to this club and we danced to a new song that came out' and so on." Piper said, and Iseul smiled. "Well, we're both old, cheesy, and nostalgic." Iseul joked, before adding. "Okay, I'm gonna head to bed, Pipes. Goodnight." She said, and she and Piper both got up from the table. "Goodnight auntie Is." Piper said. She used the bathroom once, and then snuggled with Cam under the covers and drifted off.

[slashcrz]

closed for @bloodycrxwn { devika. }

" So. When was it you were going to tell me? " Rakesh's voice came from behind Devika, where he leaned inconspicuously against the wall just beside the bedroom suite door to Ashir Singh's chambers. " Good thing I am not an assassin. Pakistani security is clearly terrible, if I made it through to you. " He did not mention that he'd all but lied && bribed the guards. Instead, he pretended to adjust his clothes, pushing his braid back behind him, fussing - it was all an act, building up to the score. Dark eyes raised to hers. " When was it you were going to tell me that you have abandoned the family on a whim? "

[smokeybrandreviews]

Please Stop, It's Already Dead

We’re almost a year into Zeb Wells’ run on Spider-Man and we finally got answer as to what the f*ck i going on. The mystery box has been opened and it’s full of f*cking stupid. Stupid, stupid, answers. Answers that just don’t work for the characters that we all know and love. Bro, like, i had a whole goddamn essay written about this, about how Zeb Wells has literally thrown out decades of growth and characterization for some half-hearted shock plot to basically troll the fandom but then i saw the leaks for issue twenty-six and what the f*ck? The death of Ms. Marvel? Really? You’re about to fridge Kamala Khan? Word? The most popular and visible Muslim character in f*cking comics, and you’re going to kill her off just to f*ck with Peter Parker even more than he’s already been f*cked over? What the f*ck is even going on anymore? What are you doing Marvel? How is this a good idea? How are these the optics you wan for your flagship comic book and most profitable hero? It’s like you hate money right now.

Listen, I'll be the first to admit that i didn’t care for Kamala when she was first introduced in the comics. Ma came about during the whole “All New, All Different” debacle and i just couldn’t stand any of that sh*t. It didn’t help that she was pushed so goddamn hard, to the point of sheer annoyance. I couldn’t pick up a Marvel comic without a f*cking Ms. Marvel mention for, like, two whole years. It was obnoxious how prominent this chick was in  comics but, as time went on, i got over it. Kamala is a thing. I’m good with that. It helps that she is unapologetically Pakistani and Muslim. That sh*t is f*cking dope and we can always have more represenation like that. Then she got a show. Yo, Iman Vellani did the impossible and changed my opinion of Kamla altogether.That was top-tier, RDJ-as-Iron Man casing right there. I am still wildly indifferent to Kamala in the books but Ms. Marvel in the MCU is the sh*t. It’s a crime more people didn’t watch that show but i think she’ll steal all of her scenes in the upcoming Marvels flick. Which, coincidentally, is also written by Zeb f*cking Wells so that might end up being a sh*tshow, too. which brings me back to my point: Why the f*ck are we fridging Miss Marvel in the goddamn first place?

Ma is poised o be a breakout star of one of the most anticipated (some would also say infamous) MCU entries to date. What the f*ck is the motivation behind such an ill-advised comic book death? Now, unlike a lot of people out there in the blogsphere, i don’t think this is desperate and lazy “plot twist” is racist or sexist. I can definitely see why people would say that but this, to me, stinks of corporate mandate. This is the Marvel suits making the call, probably to get buzz going for the aforementioned Marvels film because, so far, word is that thing is a goddamn mess. Which isn’t surprising considering that Wells wrote that thing, too. I Just want to hammer that fact home: Zeb Wells wrote the Marvels and is now killing off Ms. Marvel in the comics, for reasons. You would think it be counter-intuitive to kill off a third of your leads in said flick just for hate clicks but you know the old adage; All publicity is good publicity. I don’t think Marvel as a whole, needs anymore bad publicity, though, and this sh*t is the worst kind.

Wells isn’t even killing her off in her own book, man. Kamala Khan’s death, as temporary as it will probably end up being, is just to give “development” to Peter Parker. Her death is a f*cking plot device, devoid of purpose or narrative weight, and that is the greatest crime being committed here. Bad writing aside, do you know how disrespectful this is to the character? How condescending it is to her fans? It’s wild to me that the higher ups gave the green light for this bullsh*t but, i mean, they did hand Wells the reins to the most popular superhero in the world. And continue to let him f*ck it up. Why not throw a little brown girl sacrifice on the dumpster fire, too? Like, it keeps getting worse and I don't know how that's even f*cking possible. How is this Spider-Man run so bad? How does Wells keep making the absolute wrong choices? I don't even understand how someone who calls themselves a professional writer, can craft such an abysmal narrative and put their name on it. Proudly. You should hear this asshole in interviews. HE rally thinks he’s doing something great with this book right now. The delusion and hubris is real. It’s sh*t like this that’s letting manga absolutely massacre the US comics industry.

[hennadesign2]

Discover the Best Henna Services Near You

Henna, a traditional art form dating back centuries, has become popular for adding a unique touch of elegance to celebrations and personal style. From intricate wedding mehndi to contemporary designs for festivals or special occasions, finding a skilled henna artist near you can make all the difference in transforming your ideas into beautiful, personalized artwork. If you’re looking for “henna near me,” here are some essential points to keep in mind when choosing the best local artist for your needs.

The beauty of henna lies in its versatility and cultural significance. Each region has its own distinctive style, from Indian and Pakistani to Moroccan and Arabic designs. Many local henna artists are skilled in blending traditional and modern techniques, allowing you to find someone who can perfectly match your taste. Searching online or on social media platforms like Instagram, Facebook, or dedicated beauty service apps can be an excellent way to locate nearby henna artists, view their portfolios, and read customer reviews. Some beauty service platforms even allow you to book henna services at home, bringing comfort and convenience right to your doorstep.

When choosing a henna artist, consider the quality of the henna paste they use. Opt for professionals who use organic, chemical-free henna, which not only ensures a safer application but also provides a richer, darker stain. Professional henna artists often make their paste using fresh henna powder and natural ingredients, which helps enhance the color and longevity of the designs.

Cost is another essential factor, as prices can vary depending on the artist’s experience and the intricacy of the design. Ask for a consultation to discuss your preferences, see samples, and get a quote tailored to your desired style. From small, simple motifs to intricate bridal mehndi, many artists offer packages to suit various occasions and budgets.

Finding quality “henna near me” services not only allows you to enjoy beautiful designs but also supports talented local artists. With some research, you can easily discover a skilled henna artist in your area who can add that exquisite touch to your next celebration or personal style.

[baekhvuns]

ON NAUR BESTIE UR SICK??? TC OF YOURSELFFFF

IKR 2 YRS‽‽ Like..we didn't even realise how the time flew. OMG, I'd love to see thru your drafts for sure, ngl ever since u've been gone i haven't been on Tumblr as much, like idk if it's my kpop obsession tht died down or the fact i don't like reading ffs anymore or the fact tht I don't like reading ffs that are not urs 😔😔😔 see ilysm 🤭DW ILL BE HERE TO SEE THE FF WHEN IT DROPS I AINT LEAVING ANYTIME SOON 🗣️

Damnnn that's the first time I've heard of misphonia BUT HE DROPPED THE SECOND PART 🗣️🗣️

Trauma i tell u. Bro broke me. Absolutely to shreds.

Hold up let me find the video (i wld love love loveee to tell u abt the second part but oh. If ur planning to hear it. U gotta suffer truly. That's the beauty of it 🥰)

https://youtu.be/C5Aab2I5lqo?si=BhowFtzVeZiZEhhE

There u go, if tht doesn't work, i hv a feeling it won't, the channel is named Nora Asmr, and u cn find the "tracing tattoos" video.

ANYWAYSSSSS

OMG jannat 😧😧 nah bro I had forgotten all about that, i just unlocked a memory

AAAAA THAT SOUNDS MAJESTIC I'm honestly deprived. DEPRIVED I TELL YOU. I need more old Bollywood movies 😭😭 LIKE PLSSSSSS

Did I hear tauba tauba?

(i hv secretly been trying to learn the step, I look like a struggling horse)

VICKY SLAYYEDDDD i get it Katrina, i get it now 😔🤚 OH AND HERE LET ME DROP THIS EDIT I FOUND FOR THE PAKISTANI DRAMA

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C91sGU3ILWH/?igsh=MWxwOWRudHkwcnFpOA==

It's called kabhi hum kabhi tum 😮‍💨😮‍💨 the concepts are so interesting..

ALSO I GOT A NEW SUITTT

Your girl in her desi era 💅💅✨✨

Okok i shall leave now AND TC!! BUH BYEEEE

hello!!!!

yes i was sick! but i’m way better now but unfort the bug got to many others so everyone around me is sick 😭😭😭

tWO years 😭😭😭 no but like me too my kpop phase had been dying since a while and now im just not into it very much (the songs r just not it anymore) neither do i read fics or even come here (as u can tell bc this ask response is so late 😭😭) I LOVE U FOR THAT NDJDDJCK i get sparks for fics to write but the writing part just turns me off so ive just been watching kdramas rather than listening to kpop 😭 currently watching love next door and i did not know jung hae-in was like that, i was gawking at him every time he comes on screen

IT DID NOT WORK, the video is unbelievable to my region apparently for no reason BUT THANK GOD I WOULD NOT HAVE TO SUFFER ☺️☺️

RIGHT?? jannat’s songs and to be able to play them at home was like playing w the devil, bc u never know when emran would emran hashmi. ITS SUCH A MAJESTIC SONG IKK THE AMT OF FICS IVE THOUGHT BASED ON THAT SONG 😩 im actually obsessed w it, slowed and reverb, fast & regular paced im obsessed

TAUBA TAUBAAA I CANT avoid it anywhere, it played at the wedding i was at and everyone and their mom was trying to do the step but it just looked like a horse galloping 😭😭😭 I GET HER I RLY DO what a duo, a dancing queen and now her partner 😩

THAT VIDEO LINK DOES NOT WORK EITHER WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭

oo let me see the suIT (priv ask ofc ur wanting to share!) what colour is it??? i love getting suits but i hate the process of choosing them

[pyoorofficial]

Top 10 Trending Pakistani Suit Designs for Eid 2024

Pakistani suit designs have gained popularity in India and other countries for their stunning designs, vibrant colours, and beautiful embroidery. Here are the top 10 trending Pakistani suit designs for Eid 2024:

1. Gulaab: Middle Eastern Kurta set with Dupatta, by Pyoor

This beautiful outfit includes a short kurta in satin with detailed Afghani salwar and a matching organza dupatta. Inspired by Eastern style, it features a beautiful Pakistani salwar suit in fuschia pink. Perfect for special occasions, it uses vibrant colors and rich fabrics to create a stunning look. This trending Pakistani suit design is perfect for Eid.

2. 'SAND' Middle Eastern Fit Kurta Set with Dupatta, by Pyoor

This stylish outfit includes a comfy kurta in dark brown satin and a matching dupatta. It's inspired by Middle Eastern style and features trending Pakistani suit designs and traditional Pakistani salwar suit designs. Perfect for special occasions like Eid, it brings together vibrant colors and fine fabrics for a stunning look.

3. Sitara sharara set, by Pyoor

This outfit is super traditional yet classy. It has a kurta with pretty embroidery in sequins and matching pants called sharara. It's inspired by Pakistani suit designs and the traditional Pakistani salwar design. This outfit is really popular right now, making it a part of the trending Pakistani suit designs. Great choice for Eid celebrations!

4. MAKHMAL ‘Middle Eastern’ Fit Kurta set, by Pyoor

This outfit’s colour - Onion pink is super beautiful  and the kurta set is extremely comfortable. It has a top with beautiful patterns and a matching scarf. Inspired by styles from the Middle East, it also shows off Pakistani salwar suit designs and traditional Pakistani salwar designs. It's a popular choice among people looking for trendy Pakistani suit designs for Eid.

5. Oyster ‘Middle Eastern’ Fit Kurta set, by Pyoor

This outfit has a kurta shirt with an intricate embroidery on neck, sleeves and kurta mid.  It's inspired by Middle Eastern style and has ideas from Pakistani salwar suit designs and traditional Pakistani salwar designs. It's popular now as a trending Pakistani suit design. Great for special times, it uses light colors and luxury fabrics to look amazing on Eid.

6. Iris Set in Middle Eastern Fit, by Pyoor

This breezy cotton outfit includes a kurta with nice patterns on sleeves and a long organza scarf. Inspired by Middle Eastern style, it looks like Pakistani salwar suit designs and traditional Pakistani salwar designs. It's great for parties and special days, with bright colors and nice fabrics. It's a popular choice for Eid, following the trending Pakistani suit designs.

7. Nile Dress, Middle Eastern Fit, by Pyoor

This dress is super pretty! It's like a long shirt with beautiful patterns and colors. It's inspired by styles from the Middle East, and it's just perfect for special occasions like Eid. It reminds me of those fancy Pakistani salwar suit designs and Pakistani salwar designs you see at celebrations. It's totally in line with trending Pakistani suit designs.

 

8. Tulip Co-ord Set, Middle Eastern Fit, by Pyoor

This beautiful outfit has a bright red kurta and pants. It's designed like Middle Eastern clothes but has a Pakistani style. It's part of the trending Pakistani suit designs, which have fancy designs and patterns. Perfect for Eid or special events, it's comfy and stylish with a touch of Pakistani salwar suit designs.

9. ‘GULDASTA’ Silk Brocade Set with Dupatta, by Pyoor

This lovely outfit comes with a silky top and a matching scarf. It's a popular style called Pakistani salwar suit designs, which means it's inspired by clothes worn in Pakistan. The design is very trendy, which means a lot of people like it right now. It's great for special events like Eid.

10. NAYAB Middle Eastern Fit Pure Tissue Set, by Pyoor

This fancy outfit has a long shirt in tissue with pretty designs and an organza scarf. It's inspired by styles from the Middle East and has elements of Pakistani salwar suit designs and traditional Pakistani salwar designs. People really like it, so it's a trending Pakistani suit design. Great for Eid!

[hedgehog-troops]

(proceed with caution)

THIS GOES FOR ANY CHARACTER OF ANY ETHNICITY!!

i still remember the sobs i sobbed when in a fic (desi) james was apparently speaking indian. (????)

also as someone who understands urdu/hindi, i can assure you 90% of the times the sentence structure and words and EVERYTHING IS SO WRONG???

also we eat stuff other than butter chicken, biryani, and naan. just throwing that out there yk.

also, james would never call 'roti/naan' bread. he wouldn't call 'chai' tea.

theres so many little things that play such a big part in the whole things. whilst james would very much suit gold jewelry, he'd seldom wear any due to a plethora of reasons.

ONE OF THE THINGS THAT IRK ME THE MOST!! yiu cant say that james is both indian and pakistani and then only add ONE culture. yes, both cultures overlap A LOT but theres so so much stuff of one culture that i don't see portrayed in the fic but rather favor the other.

(also if james is desi i will tell you as much that effie and monty would've taken some time accepting him as bi/pan. no matter how good of parents they were, they wouldve.)

thankyou for reading this.

that all being said, feel free to ask me about HINDI/URDU translations. or (Pakistani) punjabi (yes, there's a difference).

im so so so tired of seeing people use james latin identity as an accessory but NEVER doing the actual research to make him even slightly accurate to ANY latin american country.

STOP USING OUR CULTURE AS A FUCKING COSTUME IN YOUR FICS. IF YOU DONT HAVE ANY LATINX FRIENDS TO HELP YOU, THERE ARE ENDLESS RESOURCES OUTSIDE OF GOOGLE TRANSLATE FOR YOU TO WRITE HIM RIGHT

[xtruss]

Classic Karachi-Nous: Legend Mohammad Javed Miandad in the 1992 Cricket World Cup Final against England, Melbourne Cricket Ground, Melbourne, Australia. March 25, 1992. Photograph David Munden/© Getty Images

The Jugaaroo! Cheeky, Tough and Masters of Improvisation: How Does Karachi Produce The Batsmen It Does?

Cricketers, like the rest of us, are often perceived to be products of the places they grew up in. Mumbai has a reputation for producing khadoos players, while Hyderabad is popularly regarded as being a nursery for wristy artists, Yorkshire's are dour, while Melbourne's won't give you an inch. Karachi, meanwhile, is said to breed all of these traits into its cricketers: they are inventive, competitive, combative, relishing times when their backs are to the wall, and always looking to grab the game by the scruff of its neck.

— Ahmer Naqvi | Published: June 2, 2016

On March 7, 2015, Pakistan met South Africa in a must-win match at the World Cup. They decided to open with Sarfraz Ahmed. Until then in the tournament, Sarfraz had sat warming the bench - to much criticism - as Pakistan chose to play Umar Akmal as a makeshift wicketkeeper in a bid to bolster the batting. The management had little faith in Sarfraz's batting, especially as an opener, though he had had previous success in the position. Here he was sent to open against the best bowling attack the team had faced so far.

He was beaten inside the line by Dale Steyn the very first ball he faced. "The way I was beaten, it gave me an idea," Sarfraz told me when we met in Karachi a few weeks after the World Cup. "Unless I move forward to meet [the next ball], this gig is going to be up, as the pitch was difficult and the conditions were overcast. So I understood that even if he bowls a sharp bouncer, I could be proactive, as I was ready for him."

Sarfraz started batting out of his crease, shuffling, shifting and sliding effortlessly across it, and eventually scored an entertaining 49. That helped Pakistan to their most authoritative start in the tournament against a major side.

For the casual observer, Sarfraz's daring improv style bore some resemblance to the exciting new strain of batting that livened up the tournament; for this Pakistan side it was an anomaly. Like transistor radios in the age of the internet, this team was composed of batsmen suited to an earlier, forgotten era of cricket. In that light, Sarfraz's innings prolonged the lineage of a distinct strain of Pakistani cricketers.

This type of batsman isn't unique to Pakistan, but the Pakistanis who fit it are most likely to be from Karachi. Think of Moin Khan and, to some extent, Rashid Latif. Before them, Asif Mujtaba, and well before them Mushtaq Mohammad and Asif Iqbal, and between them the man who fleshed out the prototype himself, Javed Miandad.

What they had in common was a non-traditional, lateral approach to finding solutions. They looked to generate new ideas. The question was whether this capacity was in some way linked to the city they all hailed from - was there something about growing up in Karachi that conditioned their response? Perhaps this was romanticism - trying to find a reflection of the city I was born in within the game that I loved. But it seemed relevant that when one thought of, for example, the reverse sweep, the advent of proactive running, or counterintuitive strategies, there was always a someone from Karachi involved.

A List of the World's Largest Cities includes several Test centres in the subcontinent. Some, like Lahore and Delhi, are ancient cities with long and grand histories. Some, like Mumbai or Kolkata, are products of colonialism but with a contiguous link to their older pasts.

Cricket's great cities absorb young players and rationalise their approaches. If there is anything unique about Karachi, it is that its tumult has thrown up these players

From having been essentially a fishing village, Karachi was completely transformed by the end of colonialism. So much so that Imran Aslam, a renowned journalist and Karachi resident, says of it: "[It is] a city by the sea [which] has no sea culture, because the entire population here is either Ganga Jamni [from the Gangetic plains of northern India] or from the mountains. You don't get lobsters here, nobody really eats seafood, and you don't see any sailors. It's a city which has no dwellers of its own anymore."

The birth of Pakistan turned Karachi not only into the new capital but also the destination of millions of refugees and migrants, who arrived as much for ideology as for survival. The states of northern India were home to many of the Muslim elites who led the movements for the creation of Pakistan. As such, Karachi was seen as the crystallisation of an idea. The explosiveness of the city's growth soon outstripped the state's ability to realise this idea, and in the decades since, endemic violence has crippled it further.

Pakistan's financial hub has withstood decades of civil unrest and tension © Getty Images

Yet it has remained the country's industrial and financial hub as well as its major port. In his book on Karachi, the French author Laurent Gayer describes the city's tense, contradictory equilibrium as an "ordered disorder", and hits at the larger question of Karachi: "How has this city subjected to violent escalation and polarisation… avoided a fully-fledged explosion?" Gayer asks this in the context of the last three decades, when the pervasive levels of violence truly began, but as his book makes clear, the idea of the ordered disorder took root in the city's post-partition development.

Karachi has always been the most consistently tumultuous city in the country. Over time it has given rise to a specific response from its citizens: "rather than coping with crisis," Gayer writes, "they have learned to cope in crisis". Survival instincts are honed that much sharper here.

It manifests itself in a couple of ways. One, as Moin Khan put it to me, is an inner competitiveness. "You are even told at home about the need for healthy competition, and it's very important - if you don't make someone your competitor, then who are you competing with?"

It also brings an urgency and practicality to all tasks, as Rashid Latif illustrated to me through an example of two salesmen. "I take a salesman [outside Karachi] and I tell him, go and do this thing and come back. On his way he will go home and his amma will tell him that she has given the daughter's dupatta to the dyers, so could he please pick it up on his way, but when he gets there the dyer says he'll have it by the evening. So now the salesman figures he is hungry and gets something to eat and it will be evening before he returns to you. In Karachi, you tell him, 'Go do this' and he will go, get it done and come back."

That was not apparent in the cricket immediately. For the first few decades after 1947, Karachi's main source of quality cricketers was its elite, colonial-era schools. They had access to the best facilities and established traditions, and played eagerly contested tournaments. The schoolboy cricketer, particularly one born to Muhajir (or immigrant, to describe those who moved to Pakistan during and after partition) families looking to establish themselves in a new land, was cast with certain expectations and incumbent responsibilities.

Over time Karachi has given rise to a specific response from its citizens: rather than coping with crisis, they have learned to cope in crisis

The consummate product of the school circuit was Hanif Mohammad, and until the 1970s he represented the ultimate ideal of a Karachi batsman. His 337 in Barbados was testament to a young, determined force that refused to give in. Little wonder then that the country, and particularly those sharing his recent migrant past, saw so much of themselves in that effort. It was an innings defined by grit, as the sunburnt layers of skin on his face from 16 hours at the crease testified.

Toughened in Karachi: Mushtaq Mohammad, batting during the 1978-79 Test series against India, was known for his innovative strokeplay and back-to-the-wall performances Patrick Eagar/© Getty Images

However, things would begin to change for both the city and its cricket. Faced with a constantly restive population that defied the state's directives, Ayub Khan, Pakistan's first military dictator, decided in 1960 to move the capital from Karachi. The city continued to attract economic migrants from across the country, becoming simultaneously wealthier but also more unruly. Its centre gyrated to foreign bands and discos and bars, while its peripheries grew rapidly and informally, with the state too overwhelmed to keep up. It was inevitable that cricket would change, and by the '70s the conditions were in place for a new type of batsman to emerge.

Tariq Alam had just completed his matriculation exams in the early '70s when Pakistan's domestic cricket began to induct department sides, such as those of banks, in their first-class set-up. Alam's club had organised a match against a department side where they were set 270-odd to chase and had lost three or four wickets. Keeping with his burgeoning reputation on the local circuit, he walked out and scored a hundred, leading his team to victory. His innings impressed the opponent's sports in-charge, who offered him a spot in the side and a job at the company. Alam was dazed by the offer.

"I was in matric then and I didn't know anything about anything. I just looked at him and said, 'What are you saying?'" he told me in Karachi late last year.

Some seasoned pros urged him to say yes, and Alam headed home to tell his mother and older brother. He remembers being frightened by the turn of events, but his similarly surprised elders quickly realised that he had been offered a job before he had even got to college, and they decided this was the best way forward.

What it meant was that boys from middle-class families could pursue cricket as a serious profession. It meant that playing for clubs could land you a stable job, and in a city driven by the need to survive, it suddenly gave cricket legitimacy in the eyes of a new class of people.

Javed Miandad

While these changes were sweeping through the domestic game, the national team was also changing in decisive ways - both in terms of how it played and how much it was paid. Led by Mushtaq Mohammad, Hanif's younger brother, a new generation of cricketers emerged. They played extensively on the English county circuit, and were attuned to a professional approach to the game and to the competitiveness that came with it. Mushtaq captained a team that provided the template for the modern, unquiet brand of Pakistani cricket - confident, explosive and mercurial.

The apogee of this reinvigoration came, fittingly, in Karachi and against India in 1978. The Indian captain, Bishan Singh Bedi, had already watched Pakistan romp to an improbable win chasing at six an over in the final session of the previous Test, in Lahore. In Karachi the target was stiffer. Pakistan needed 164 to win in 100 minutes, and Bedi was taking few chances, banishing almost his entire field to the boundary. The tactic did not faze Imran Khan, who kept going for, and pulling off, big hits near the end. But what made that chase memorable was how two batsmen chose not to defy Bedi's tactics but to use them against him.

Promoted by Mushtaq, Asif Iqbal and Miandad put on 97 in nine overs, and they did so by tapping the ball instead of blasting it, and running with an aggression unknown to cricket then. Both batsmen were capable of hitting boundaries, but the decision to go for the smarter choice lit up the imaginations of those watching. A small clip online captures their impish assault, in which they pinched doubles and stole byes off dazed fielders. It was, as Zaheer Abbas would later observe, "one-day running but ahead of its time".

Javed Miandad

Miandad's exploits, demeanour and intelligence captured all the qualities that we seemed to identify with the city

But that particular style of batting had already taken root in Karachi's club circuit. Alam, father of Pakistan international Fawad, made quite a name for himself on the club scene - crowds of thousands are said to have flocked to watch club matches in the '70s, and he was often one of the main attractions. An increase in the number of matches exposed players to all sorts of situations, with limited time often requiring a new batting approach.

A certain kind of batsman came to be lionised, one now recognised as a prototype of the ODI finisher. "My batting position, in the middle order, is one where when you arrive at the crease the match situation has become apparent," Alam told me. "From there you have to make sure that you complete your turn at the crease. I only regard someone as a batsman [if he] can take the match with him and return having finished it. If you make 30-40 and get out, then those runs are useless for the team."

The obvious subtext to this approach was a desire for heroism, but one that only took place as a subset of the team's glory - Alam dismissed those batsmen who play for the "Wah wah" of a few dashing strokes. What was crucial was the ability to take the situation by the scruff of the neck and drag the team to its finish. In Urdu, Alam said "match ko pakar ke chalna", or, to grab hold of the game and go along with it. It was an especially resonant phrase.

For example, Moin, whom I met in the sprawling office of his eponymous cricket academy, used a similar phrase to define great batsmen. "Whenever you looked at the great batsmen of the past, it would seem that game ko chala rahe hain khud [they are running the game by themselves], and everything else would be a function of them."

Moin Khan: "You are even told at home about the need for healthy competition - if you don't make someone your competitor, then who are you competing with?" © Getty Images

For modern fans, venerating finishers isn't out of the ordinary. But where nowadays those runs are scored increasingly in boundaries, this type of batsman would use subtler, less bludgeoning methods. Not that there is less risk in this approach. Risk-taking, as Moin explained, is intrinsic to the Karachi approach. "One who doesn't take a risk is caught between two stools. You have to take a risk for your own success. And when you do take a risk, then your approach is always positive."

It is what he did with his running between the wickets, when he felt he had to keep the other team on their toes. "There's a chance in that - sometimes you can make the error, sometimes the fielder will. But until you put pressure on the fielder he won't fumble… and if you're waiting that if he fumbles then only I'll run - no! You have to make him fumble. You know how they say, 'Make it happen'? You have to play with the other's mind."

Jugaar Is A popular Urdu And Hindi Word That Wikipedia Defines As An "Innovative Fix or A Simple Work-Around". A person employing such methods is often referred to as a jugaaroo, which when you think about it really means someone who is good at lateral thinking or at finding solutions that circumvent traditional logic and norms. The rationale behind this piece was that Karachi had a rich tradition of the jugaaroo batsman.

Like transistor radios in the age of the internet, Pakistan's team of 2015 was composed of batsmen suited to an earlier, forgotten era of cricket

The cricketers I spoke to focused very little on the jugaar aspect of batting - they were keen to speak instead about the meaning or purpose of batting rather than the process of it. But the meaning they ascribed to batting also gave away its connection with the approach: they saw themselves as the little guy, the outsider who lacked the privileges that came to others; forever the little guy punching above his weight, goading the opposition and pretending he can bully the bullies, right till he is actually doing so.

Javed Miandad against India

Imran Aslam had a wonderful quip that perfectly unlocks why the country's largest, richest city would see itself as the little guy or the outsider. Describing the politics - both of cricket and the nation - in Pakistan's two power centres, he says: "When you go to Lahore, they say to you, 'Listen, there's a conspiracy going on against me. You just see, there's a lot of politics going on.' In Karachi, the first conversation is always about injustice."

The word ziyaati - injustice - came up, unprompted, in just about every interview, and it reflects the view that those based in Karachi are outside the system, one that will always seek to attack and marginalise them. The ideal response, then, is to fight back using one's own basic resources, and rely on ideas that exist outside of the norms - in essence, the definition of jugaar.

The longer I spent thinking about this, the more it seemed like Miandad represented the canonical version of the Karachi approach to batting. His exploits, demeanour and intelligence captured all the qualities that we seemed to identify with the city. As Rob Smyth once wrote of him:

"In a sense, all batsmen are doomed. They walk to the crease knowing that their innings is finite, and that it could end at any moment. It takes a very special person to relish that situation, but that's how Javed Miandad played. He had the mentality of a fugitive, content to live on his wits no matter how great the risks. In fact, he needed those risks in order to thrive. The anarchy stimulated him."

(As such, there are certain Karachiites who take a perverse pleasure in riding the city's constant rush of adrenaline. Some friends of mine lived near MA Jinnah Road, one of the city's most symbolic avenues, home to many protests that frequently descend into riots. Describing their hobby as "mob management", they would often look to lead and direct those setting tyres on fire, breaking windows and stoning passing cars. The trick, and the thrill, was to escape before someone realised and the violence was directed at the mob managers.)

In the modern era, Sarfraz Ahmed's batting has most closely epitomised the Karachi way, as during his 49 against South Africa in Auckland in 2015 © Getty Images

Yet Miandad also transcended this category because he was far too good a batsman, too blessed with skill and ability to be truly considered just a jugaaroo. By design, this approach comes to those who are not as gifted and must find other ways. Think of the innovation that came naturally to Mushtaq, who lacked at least the technique of Hanif. Rather than be daunted, he was creative, experimenting with pinch-hitters like Imran or sending Iqbal to open, and most of all with the reverse sweep, which he lays claim to having invented. That had come in a club game in England in 1964. The problem was Fred Titmus bowling on middle and leg with a midwicket and square leg in place; Mushtaq's solution was to reverse sweep through the vacant point- and third-man region.

Mushtaq had several classic back-to-the-wall performances in his career. A similar sense of crisis inspired Iqbal as well, who was never seen as a top-order batsman and yet was consistently reliable when it was toughest to bat. Osman Samiuddin calculates in The Unquiet Ones that 18 of Iqbal's 23 scores of 50-plus came "with Pakistan in deep strife".

You glimpse it in others from the city too; in Asif Mujtaba's two impossible ODI chases against Australia, sealing a win and a tie with a last-ball six; in Moin's audacious sweeping of Glenn McGrath, a shot he admitted he never dared practise against his own bowlers in the nets; in Sarfraz's heist in Sharjah.

None of this is to claim that such players are unique to Karachi, but it is often true that in a sport as traditionalist as cricket, such players often emerge from the hinterlands, from far-flung areas with self-taught techniques. Cricket's great cities on the other hand soon absorb young players into the sport's institutions, rationalising their approaches. If there is anything unique about Karachi, it is that its tumult and sway have created a propensity for throwing up these players.

It is difficult to see what the future holds for this sort of player. The opportunities of tape-ball cricket, the city's great love and invention, as well as the techniques it imparts, have affected the ability of local batsmen to adjust to regular hard-ball cricket. One of the links between Rashid's and Moin's era and that of Sarfraz is Shahid Afridi, whose influence on local batting ideals cannot be discounted. More significantly, batting all over the world has undergone a significant evolution, one that Pakistan has missed out on. International cricket is now gone, a further impact on the exposure afforded to local players. Then again, those are exactly the kind of odds against which Karachi batting might thrive.

— Ahmer Naqvi is a Freelance Writer who works for the Music Website Patari. He would like to acknowledge Safieh Shah's help in writing this piece.

— The Cricket Monthly