#y'all should follow him though he speaks portuguese

[cripitique]

I finished this twitch emote commission for malfector on twitch of his character! I'm so glad he liked it 💫

[nneefa]

fic: linda

fandom: xiaolin showdown

characters: raimundo/kimiko, clay, omi, the tohomikos

summary: if raimundo hadn't known kimiko better, he'd think she was fishing for a compliment, given that omi and clay had just sung her praises. as it was, he did know her better, especially if the glint in her blue eyes was anything to go by, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

notes: ooh, boy. let's see where to start: 1) "linda" means "beautiful" in portuguese; 2) the park our teen kiddos are at is "Shinjuku Gyoen." i highly recommend y'all google it. it's very beautiful; 3) kimiko's yukata is based off this image; 4) this is like headcanons gone wild, but most importantly, credit goes to @sunbirddtellsstories for "Tomoko." i can only hope i portrayed her the way she was intended to be. 5) dedicated to the anon that asked me for raikim. i hope to the heavens that i portrayed the characters accurately.

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Raimundo barely had time to brace himself as the chilly spring air cut past the defenses of his layered clothing, right down to his bones.

He fought the urge to shiver as he sunk lower and lower into his coat, pulling his skull cap further over his ears before burrowing his hands into the safety of his coat pockets. He watched Clay shake like a pair of maracas on the ground, Omi pressed close to his side, like a squirrel clinging to a tree, in an effort to provide him warmth. He almost wanted to join them, anything to get rid of the goosebumps settling on his skin, but there was hardly any room on the blanket they sat on, with Clay's massive body taking up more than half the space, and somebody had to keep an eye out for Mr. Tohomiko for when he came back. The elderly man had insisted on getting them all hot drinks while they waited for the girls to show.

If only Kimiko were here; she could heat things up in an instant.

Speaking of Kimiko… leave it to her to take a long time, especially when this whole thing was her idea. Okay, maybe it wasn't her idea exactly - more like her sister's - but still. Japan was ridiculously cold. Where he's from, anything below sweltering was foreign, and even if he did spend the better part of three years training in the mountains of China, that didn't mean he was used to it.

Raimundo breathed a deep breath, watching it fade in the frigid air, and turned his gaze away from his friends to survey the park they were in.

Tokyo really was a beautiful city, especially in the spring. The only things he'd seen since their last visit were skyscrapers, shops, and shrines, and while those were nice and all, they paled in comparison to the city's blooming cherry blossom trees.

Sakura, Mr. Tohomiko had called them, stretched as far as the eye could see, the pink and white flowers breathtakingly beautiful against the bright blue sky, like something straight from a painting. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people, families and couples and loners alike, scattered across the large expanse of the park with blankets and baskets and cameras, some seated in the sun having picnics, some relaxed beneath the shade of the trees on the petal-laden ground.

There were women, children, and even some men dressed in elaborately designed kimono for the occasion, though the bulk of them wore regular, civilian clothes, and he wondered briefly if Kimiko would be wearing hers. (He quickly banished the thought). Raimundo was pretty sure he saw at least three ponds on their walk across the park, two different sections of landscape with their own sets of flora and fauna, a pavilion located across a bridge, and from their spot beneath a Sakura tree he could even see a tower in the distance.

If it weren't for the fact that he was waiting for the others, he definitely would've gone exploring by now. What did Kimiko call this festival again? Hanabi? Hanami? Hababi? Whatever! It was nothing like he'd ever seen, and he was thankful the Tohomikos were kind enough to let them join their family outing.

Though I'd truly be thankful if they hurried up, he thought to himself as another gust of wind blew through the park. Any longer out here and I'll be a human popsicle.

Just as he was about to ask Clay and Omi to make room for him, he saw Mr. Tohomiko slip through a gap in the crowd, carrying two cup holders full of piping hot drinks. Raimundo immediately moved after him, his hands already on the drinks before the man could react. "Here, let me help you with that."

Toshiro blinked at him, surprised, but then he smiled before relinquinshing his hold on the items. "You have my gratitude, Pedrosa-san. By the way, I hope I didn't take too long. Japan's spring can be a little unforgiving at times."

"Nah, it's okay," Raimundo replied with a smile of his own, following him to where Clay and Omi were seated. "Though I'm not sure if I can say the same for our pal Clay."

"Forgive me, Bailey-san," Toshiro apologized with a slight bow of his head and a sympathetic smile once they'd reached them. "I wasn't expecting to encounter so many Goo Zombie fans in one place."

"That's quite alright, sir," said Clay, nodding his head in thanks when he handed him a drink from the tray. "If anythin', I should be the one apologizin'. Had I known you'd be swarmed, I'd gone with you."

"With your station, you must get attacked a lot," Omi said, making a grab for one of the teas. "I can't imagine what it's like to be a famous person in such a big city."

"You certainly like to try," Raimundo teased, grinning when the young boy shot him a glare over the rim of his cup.

The Dragon of Water blew into his tea before taking a sip, sparing Toshiro an earnest look. Genuinely, he added, "If you'd like, Mr. Tohomiko, we can accompany you until we return to the temple. We'll make sure no harm befalls Kimiko's papa."

Toshiro let out a hearty laugh, his smile as kind and warm as ever. "What kind young men you are! But there's no need to worry over an old man like me. Kimiko and Tomoko help me plenty already."

"Now that you mention them," Clay trailed off, curling his knees to his chest with a swig of his coffee, "what d'ya reckon's keepin' 'em?"

Toshiro fished into his coat pocket for his cell phone in order to check the time, his brows knitted in confusion. "I'm not sure," he answered. "It has been quite some time since we were scheduled to meet. Perhaps, I should call them."

"Knowing Kimiko, she probably lost track of time doing her nails again, right, Omi?" Raimundo joked, elbowing him with a wink after placing the trays on the blanket. "It wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

"Nor the last," the younger monk agreed, recalling the time where their friend forgot the Ancient Scroll of the Shen Gong Wu over her panda faces.

"What d'ya think it is this time?" Raimundo asked with a grin, pilfering a cup of hot cocoa from the tray before opting to lean against the tree. "Giraffes or smiley faces?"

Omi shook his head. "She did smiley faces last week." Then he smiled and said, "My butt's on teddy bears."

"Uh, that's 'bet's,' bro," Raimundo corrected him with a raised brow. "I think she'll settle for something simple this time, like french tip."

"My wager's on flowers," Clay added, gesturing to the pink petals on the ground with his cup. "It'd certainly fit the theme of this here's festival."

As the boys continued to ponder over Kimiko's possible nail designs, Toshiro watching the exchange with a hint of amusement, none of them noticed the girls making their way through the crowd, towards their group. Not until one of them called out to Mr. Tohomiko.

"Papa!" Tomoko exclaimed, earning everyone's attention.

She looked completely out of breath as she came to a stop in front of her father, though that did nothing to stop her from smiling, and she hugged him just before launching into an explanation in Japanese. Apparently, her fans had swarmed her on the way here too, and wouldn't let her leave until she'd signed every single autograph and taken every single group photo there was to offer. It was thanks to the efforts of Kimiko that they even made it at all.

Raimundo heard a series of footsteps from behind father and daughter, followed by a chain of frustrated grunts, and knew it was Kimiko and her friend Keiko. Clay and Omi stood up, eager to finally see their teammate after what felt like hours in the cold, dusting cherry blossoms off of their clothes in the process. The Shoku leader smirked into his cup before closing his eyes and taking a swig of his cocoa, relishing in the sweetness just as Kimiko came into view.

"Geez, Kim. It took you long enough," he teased after swallowing his drink. "D'you have any idea how long we've been waiting for y-" But the faux complaint died on his lips when he finally opened his eyes and saw her, and in that moment only one word came to mind.

"What," Kimiko shot back with a raised brow, a smirk dancing across on her face. "Cat got your tongue? Say something!"

If Raimundo had thought Tokyo was beautiful in the spring before, then that was nothing compared to how Kimiko looked now. While a tiny, fleeting part of him had hoped she was wearing a kimono, he hadn't really expected her to go the whole nine, considering how much she'd loathed them in the past, but then again, it wouldn't really be Kimiko if she wasn't constantly proving him wrong.

She stood out like a flower all on her own in her black kimono, a dark swirl in a sea of color. Small pink and white petals adorned the top half of it, much like the cherry blossoms surrounding them, including the sleeves, though the closer it got to the bottom, they varied in size and shape until it was bursting with color, and holding it all together was a bright, gold sash and red string. Of course, her outfit wouldn't be complete if she didn't have a purse to match. Her hair was fashioned with both the Tangled Web Comb and Changing Chopsticks in an elaborately braided bun, her face framed by the loose, black curls that managed to escape her updo.

Had it been him three years ago, he'd have acted like an idiot and teased her on the spot, anything to downplay his attraction. But now, at 16-years-old, Raimundo found himself, not for the first time, speechless. She was- Kimiko was-

"Beautiful!" Omi had blurted at the top of his lungs.

Raimundo hadn't realized he'd been gawking at her like some kinda dopey, cross-eyed schoolboy until the small monk was no longer at his side, but fluttering about Kimiko with all the tenacity of a 13-year-old boy in love. Quickly, he averted his gaze to Keiko, whom he acknowledged with a nod of his head, as heat settled in his ears and cheeks, and for once since he'd arrived in Japan, he found himself grateful for the cold. He didn't trust his voice and he was pretty sure he looked like a tomato right now.

"Look at you! Well, aren't you 'bout as pretty as a magnolia in May?" Clay remarked, tipping his hat up with a finger to get a better view of their friend.

Omi nodded his head with a flourish as he admired her apperance from head to toe. "You look very pretty, Kimiko. You've even managed to incorporate the Changing Chopsticks into your wardrobe this time!"

Kimiko's cheeks darkened, though she beamed at their compliments, and she touched the aforementioned Shen Gong Wu with her free hand. "You like? At first I wasn't going to add them, but it went too well with my outfit to pass up. Plus, you never know when it'll come in handy."

"And look!" Omi cooed excitedly, taking her hand and holding it up like he'd just uncovered a new Shen Gong Wu. "She even styled her nails after France, just like you said Raimundo."

Quietly, she looked to Rai, who hadn't said a single word since she'd first arrived and raised a brow at him, her cocky smirk ever-present. "Well, Rai? What do you think?"

If Raimundo hadn't known Kimiko better, he'd think she was fishing for a compliment, given that Omi and Clay had just sung her praises. As it was, he did know her better, especially if the glint in her blue eyes was anything to go by, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She'd purposely put him on the spot. (Granted, Omi did it first; he'd have to have a little talk with him about this later). He was vaguely aware that the guys were staring at him, anticipating his next words, but thankfully Tomoko had latched onto her sister's arm before Raimundo could loosen the knot on his tongue and speak.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the older Tohomiko girl had pulled her, and by extension Keiko, towards Toshiro for a group photo, with Omi as their photographer. Clay put a hand on Raimundo's shoulder as the group huddled together, a soft, yet knowing smile overtaking the cowboy's lips.

"That pretty, huh?" Clay asked, dropping his hand when Rai looked at him.

Though his hot cocoa was long gone, Raimundo felt a warmth settle in his stomach as turned back to face the group, just in time to see a genuine smile break out over Kimiko's face. For the first time ever, he found himself admitting a very obvious truth: Kimiko was beautiful.

"Yeah."

Clay blinked, taken aback by his best friend's gentle admission, but it didn't last very long and soon he found himself smiling too.

[filipinosmakinghistory]

Meet Josh Abalos a Super Senior at UMass Boston! He is a Filipino/Filipino-American who grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture. Today is his birthday! What do you think is the most common misconception about being Filipino? That we're Mexican or that we speak Spanish? That the United States DIDN'T straight up colonize us after ownership of the archipelago was transferred from the Spanish to the US after the Spanish-American war? That we're dirtier or less civilized than northern/paler Asians? How did you become aware of your cultural identity? I grew up for my first 10 years around New York and New Jersey where there were huge Filipino communities. My parents raised me with the customs that they carried over when they moved to America. They just acted like themselves around me and I absorbed that. So I knew from an early age that I was Filipino but when I moved to Massachusetts at age 10 where there were markedly less Filipinos, and I became mostly surrounded by white people, I started noticing how the color of my skin, and the culture and behavior that I brought with me, stood out from everyone else.  The lack of diversity in the new town didn't help either. How much do you identify with the history of the Philippines? Lapu Lapu from the Visayas was pretty badass. He killed Magellan, that cocky Portuguese bastard, and defended the Philippines before the archipelago even had a name. There's also the legend of Urduja (pronounced: urd-oo-ya) from the region of Pangasinan, where my dad's side comes from, though scholars are divided on whether or not she was ever real (I'd bet she was real after some internet research). Anyway she was a fabled warrior princess in the pre-colonial archipelago, who led a band of female warriors and defended her kingdom from foreign invaders as well. Legend has it that she would not marry any man who could not best her in combat. Thus she died a virgin. Wowza. What a woman. Check out the veracity of her story for yourself. http://www.urduja.com/princess.html. Then there's Jose Rizal, who is widely regarded as a polymath, is very respectable in my books for that very trait (also v v v respectable for igniting the revolution just through his writings). He was also a nerd who got around with the ladies (20 different girlfriends), so while I don't necessarily promote promiscuity and especially not infidelity, let it be said you can totally be an over-the-top nerd and still get laid (and inspire a country). Wish I knew that in middle school lol. Otherwise, in regards to my family's history: my lolo (grandfather) on my dad's side fought in World War II. He was at Bataan. He hated the Japanese, and with good reason. They made him and the other 80,000 POWs march some 60 odd miles malnourished and abused. They would torture, physically, and mentally attack them while marching. He watched his buddies die right next to him from exhaustion, starvation, and bullets to the back of their heads. Whenever a POW couldn't keep up, they were either shot or just left in a ditch to wither. He almost didn't make it, and I might never have been born. Bittersweetly, he survived only to die of cancer right around the time I was born. I wish I had at least met him. My dad recalls these memories of his to me. He tells me that lolo always used to hate when dad did Japanese stuff. Lolo never wanted his son to drive Japanese cars, eat sushi, or to learn karate (all of which he did anyway; the damned rascal was a 2nd degree blackbelt in wado karate). Given all that, sometimes I wonder what my lolo would think of me if he were here today. I watch a lot of anime, I pretend to (ironically) act japanese sometimes, but you could say I look like a total weeb. It's weird to think about. I don't hate Japanese people, although I think some of the them are weird (have you heard of waifu body pillows? jeez). Would my grandfather disown me? Would he understand what it is to be a kid in this day and age? Is religion important in your household? Describe a situation illustrating why or why not. It's pretty important. My parents have poon amongst which is the Santo Niño. We have a prayer group which rotates amongst different families' houses where we pray the rosary together and praise Jesus and stuff but I'm not so much into it anymore considering I don't align myself with the Catholic Church anymore. Have you ever struggled with your racial/ethnic/cultural identity? Describe this struggle and how you overcame it.  Yea people called me a twinkie or a banana all the time because I acted so white. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside. I wanted to believe I was just like all the other kids in middle and high school but nothing could be farther from the truth. Oh sure, I learned how to fit in reaaal good but that doesn't mean I still wouldn't get sly remarks like "oh I didn't know you would be into punk rock" or the not so subtle "I thought you were Mexican!" and "Oh you're from there? You must eat dog then". Everywhere I go, I'm reminded that I don't exactly belong. You don't see a lot of Asians at punk shows, especially around here. Kids at concerts assume I don't know the scene, I don't know the bands, that I'm just a casual show goer, or worse a "poseur". At the kind of shows I go to, three is a crowd in terms of Asians being there. 

Sure Asians are supposedly the "model minority" but I'm brown. I'm a "dirty Asian". On top of which, I have a full bushy beard and moustache these days. I don't look so innocent anymore (I try to avoid cops and follow the law). Filipinos don't even recognize me as Filipino at first glance anymore. I was in a crowd of Filipinos from my parents' generation and they all spoke English around me, but as soon as I stepped away, they felt comfortable enough to speak Tagalog. I had to tell them I was fully Filipino and that my parents grew up in the home country. What's worse is I don't speak any Filipino language so even when they know I'm full-blooded Filipino, the older generation sees me as less because I can't speak Tagalog. I was at a Filipino birthday party over the summer, where this tita (auntie) overheard that the birthday girl's new boyfriend barely understands a single lick of Tagalog. Soon as she heard that flew off the handle shouting at no one in particular "ANONG PROBLEMA NG MGA KABATAAN NGAYON. THESE KIDS SHOULD UNDERSTAND TAGALOG. THEY SHOULD BE ASHAMED. THEIR PARENTS SHOULD BE ASHAMED. SUSMARYOSEP" and I'm just here like lmao chill out tita, sorry we grew up in America. 

But yea there is that slight pang of regret that I can't connect with my people on that level. Nowadays I'm President of my Filipino club, Hoy! Pinoy!, at UMass Boston. Second Term whoop whoop. I try to re-acculturate myself with the Philippines and try to provide the opportunity for members of my club to do the same. I helped found the club specifically to find my roots again, and be around people who were like-minded. 

And I recommend to anyone and everyone who is disconnected from their family's original home land, to join a cultural group, such as a college Filipino club in my case, so you can be surrounded by people who work together to find yourselves and your identity in something other than just the fads, memes, and trivialities of American life. So you can understand the struggle your ancestors, your family, have gone through to get you where you are now. So you can understand why you face the hardship you're facing now from society around you. If your family isn't perfect, it's probably in large part from the /STRESS/ of they and their ancestor's way of life being uprooted and changed so many times and so often, that life has been just chaos, whether if it's the Spanish colonizing us, the Japanese abusing us, the white Americans imperializing us, or just the immigrant experience as a whole. And if your group isn't asking the hard questions, like where y'all came from, how will you know where to go next? You cannot grow as a person or even take a step forward if you don't have a place from where you began. You can't build a house without a foundation. As humans, we build narratives, personal stories, which we use to identify ourselves, and figure out who we are and what we want. Take psych 101 and you'll hear this. Take Asian American Psychology and you might find a group of students who would help you understand who you are as both a Filipino and an American. Who cares if it's not a course that teaches you how to make money or where you learn a marketable skill? You'll be unhappy in life if you're rich and successful but don't know who you are and what you truly want. Ask me how many people I grew up with that are like that now. 

If you really, truly know who you are as a person, that can never be taken away from you, no matter how many times you're told who you are by dominant ethnic group who have never experienced what it's like to not be white, what to want by advertisements and product reviews that just want your money, or what to change so you can try to be just like them and not so foreign and scary. You're an individual which is both scary and exciting. But you're also human, and you need to be loved, regardless. 

As Uncle Iroh once said: "It's time for you to look *inward* and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you and what do *you* want?"

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYkuuu9u3EI What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American? FOOD. UGH BUT WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG TO COOK?? . . . . . . . . ANS: BC IT'S MADE WITH LOVE. What challenges did you face, growing up as a Filipino/Filipino-American?For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit! I was probably 7 years old when I visited my extended family in the province of Pangasinan, in Lingayen. Pros: Watched Darna on repeat Cons: Almost drowned in the monsoon. Great times. Told my parents "When are we getting off this wretched Island already!!! 😭"  Describe a significant event in your life that shaped who you are today Seeing other Filipinos (-Canadian) my age underage drink and "sin" (lol) when I was still a goody two-shoes in high school. Didn't help that I had a crush on this one girl who I looked up to. I started drinking in college. What do you feel most grateful for your life? Being born into a family that is economically advantaged. I mean, look, we live in Massachusetts, I go to one of the best public university systems in the nation, and I'm not going to be up to my neck in loans when I graduate. That's more than most can say. Tell us about someone who has had a big influence in your life? Ghandi. Civil Disobedience. Pacifism. Anti-colonialism. What a guy. What traditions have been passed down your family? Eat with your hands. Don't leave the bathroom door open. Describe your immediate/household family. Mom, Dad, and brother who is a sophomore in high school. Is having a knowledge of family history important? Why or why not? Yes. Maybe you should know if you have a family history of trauma or diabetes so you can get diagnosed earlier in life to see if you need to change your lifestyle to prevent life-threatening situations or lasting damage to your mind and body. Maybe. What does it mean to be successful in your family? Be a lawyer or a doctor. Be rich. Have kids. Whoopee