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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

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We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛 Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him.

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably.

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love.

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him.

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend.

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off.

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees.

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man.

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?”

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly.

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious.

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #kpopscape #ficscafe #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x y/n imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles dirty imagines #harry x reader

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awed-frog · 3 years

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what are your views on islam?

Well - I’m still learning, and I don’t claim to be an expert on the subject. But I got interested several years ago, read many books, met a lot Muslims and ex-Muslims and non-Muslims people raised in Muslin countries in my life, and through all that there’s a fairly homogenous picture that emerges.

Let me just start by saying I have nothing against Muslims as people. Religion can play a positive role in a person’s life, and is often understood as a purely cultural phenomenon by many believers. I met Muslims who were perfectly happy to give gifts for Eid and that’s where their faith started and ended, just like it happens for many Christians. I visited a lot of Muslim-majority countries in the 90s and early Noughties and was always welcomed very warmly everywhere. In fact, reading about the recent radicalizations of those countries was one of the things that made me interested in learning more about Islam.

First of all, I think the big difference between Islam and other major world religions is that Islam was deliberately conceived to be a political entity in a way other religions were not. For instance, Judaism is not about conversion or empire-building, and Christianity and Buddhism were founded by two rebels dissatisfied with their own religion who had zero interest in building anything on the ‘reality-based’, politics-heavy side of life. So even if Christianity and Buddhism ultimately became state religions in various countries, they had to be twisted and remolded in order to fit that role. Islam, on the other hand, was created with the explicit purpose of being an all-encompassing state religion, and thanks to many Muslim leaders’ tactical genius, profound devotion and lack of scruples, it was wildly successful in that role. What this means to modern non-Muslim states with sizeable Muslim populations is that there’s a lot of stuff, from bank transactions to shopping, eating, healthcare, legal disputes and work that really pious Muslims need a parallel system for. And obviously the creation of parallel systems within a nation state is something that’s generally not desirable and can cause a lot of trouble down the way.

A second thing about Islam is that it went through the same philosophical arguments Christianity was having in the West, but unfortunately the ‘wrong’ side prevailed - and by that I mean the ‘question nothing, God is always right’ anti-intellectual side. You often hear people wondering why Islamic science and general progress seems to stop after the Middle Ages, and while there’s generally a lot of overt bias, underlying racism and ignorance in the idea, there’s also a basis of truth. By conquering most of the Middle East, the Muslim world found itself inheriting the rich melting pot of cultures and ideas that stretched from Byzantium, through the Persian empire, to and beyond the Indian borders and found its natural heart in the vibrant, multicultural city of Baghdad. Almost immediately, erudite philosophers like Al-Kindi (801–873 AD) started to turn this inheritance into something even richer: he and his disciples, the Mu’tazilites, were arguably the main drivers of the Islamic golden age. They studied and discussed philosophy, medicine and science thanks to books and experts from the four corners of the world, and the Islamic world flourished as a result. But then, in the 10th century, the ongoing theological dispute between the Mu’tazilites and their opponents was finally lost for good: the Mu’tazilites were branded as heretics and hunted down, their works destroyed. Since the other side basically saw no way to reconcile Islam with philosophical enquiry or scientific thinking, those pursuits were mostly abandoned. And that continues in the most extreme currents of Islam today, although their leaders can be very selective in what they do and don’t consider haram (most of them, of course, are perfectly happy to use glasses, modern appliances and the internet).

And a third thing is that a lot of what we now consider as simply ‘Islam’ and defend tooth and nail against Islamophobes was heavily influenced by Saudi Arabia’s extreme version of Islam, which spread like poison over the last 30 or so years through ‘charity’, mosques, carefully trained imams, and ‘schools’, and that’s how countries who’d taken centuries to develop their own version of Islam - which was generally moderate and ‘normal’, and mixed in with other faiths and local pre-Islamic traditions - turned into something that’s barely recognizable - often to the dismay of their own - Muslim - citizens.

As ever, the West and other big powers weren’t much help here, what with colonization, racism, proxy wars, actual wars, their profound and stubborn ignorance of how Islam works and their exploitation of Muslim soldiers in various wars and Muslims workers to do cheap labour in Europe in appalling conditions, but this is not just about the West. There are powerful forces in the Muslim world itself who think there is only one ‘true’ Islam and that Islam can only work as a state religion, and who are deliberately funding a well-oiled machine to brainwash Muslims - and non-Muslims - into believing this. In this sense, the work they do is not that different from how some cults operate, only it’s on a much larger scale. And our governments, through inefficiency, ignorance and greed, are mostly content to let these influences do their job unhindered.

(From feminist Tunisian and Turkish mothers who are appalled by their daughters’ insistence in wearing a veil to old people in Albania tearfully wondering why their sons used their university money to covertly join ISIS and die in Syria, there are a lot of heartbreaking eyewitness accounts who show just how quick this transition was.)

Despite the work of hundreds of moderate imams, activists and philosophers, and despite the desires of a majority of Muslims everywhere, on the whole I’m not optimistic about the future. I think that the most extreme parts of the religion will continue to be preached and to spread, that the Middle East (and the world) will be more unstable and dangerous as a result, and that our politicians will never agree on a way to make any of this better - or even have the will to.

#ask #islam #history #religion #religious extremism #islamic terrorism #saudi arabia #i mean all that money #and not a single decent university #that's why #they don't care

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fr3aklike-me · 2 years

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Hi!! 7, 10, and 34!!💕

thank you so much for sending these in!! <3

7. What is your favourite sexual scenario you’ve ever come up with?

hmm. hmm. hmm. I feel like I only have a few, since I often use whatever scenario is present in an audio or video when I, you know. I guess one I like is if I were staying with a group of people, maybe a bunch of friends and their friends and we were all sharing one place, maybe on a trip or something. and there being a guest who I feel attracted to, and spending a couple of days in a constant state of sexual tension with them, maybe even bridging onto a bit of teasing. and it just continuously building up, us always saying sly things to each other in front of other people, watching each other from across the room, until we snap and meet in one of our rooms at night to get it out of our systems. 💖💗💕

10. What do you think your favourite position would be?

oh. someone riding me. for sure. if I imagine myself topping with a strap, I often think of someone riding me in my lap. because it fits for whether they’re being the more dominant one and are just using me for themselves and being totally in control. but, it also works if they’re the more submissive one and are being told to ride it by themself until they’re begging for help, or even if I have my arms around them and am moving them up and down dkfjdkj

34. What’s your favourite part of your body?

I sometimes really feel how my hands look. I sometimes like how graceful they look, and I’m especially into them now because I have mehendi on them from Eid. I also wear a ring and bracelet pretty consistently and I like how they look on my hand <3

send me nsft asks! <3

#answered asks #anons #ask game

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hopetofantasy · 4 years

Text

Culture, parallels & meta - S2 E7

Zaterdag 12:23

C is for culture: Zoë takes an emergency contraceptive to prevent a possible pregnancy after unprotected sex. There are two types of morning after pills sold in Belgium: 'Norlevo' (which works until 3 days after) and 'EllaOne' (5 days after). Since the 1st of april 2020, those pills will either be completely free of charge or will cost you no more than 1 euro.

Hello from the outside: The clip ends with the reference “Have you experienced something similar to Zoë” to the website ‘watwat.be’. On this website, wtFOCK started a campaign to educate / inform viewers on consent, sexual assault and #metoo. Apparently, the storyline of Zoë had an huge impact on the teens, because the traffic on the website increased heavely during those months.

Perfect parallel: Milan asking “Is it going to take much longer?” and distressed Zoë snapping “It’s still going to take a long time, okay?” in S2, Senne asking the same and an irritated Robbe answering “Yes, it will still take long” after the Pride speech in S3.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The (fake) name for her emergency contraceptive is ‘Levoda’.

Zondag 11:43

Perfect parallel: Milan knocking on sad Zoë’s door with “There are some sandwiches in the kitchen” in S2, him knocking on despaired Robbe’s door and stating “You can always reheat them in the microwave” in S3.

Oopsie: Viktor’s last name is ‘Deruwe’, not ‘De Smet’. Either production made a mistake or he is in fact Senne’s half-brother and they just didn't mention it.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Viktor is born in 1998, according to his profile, making him 21 years old during S2. Zoë only has 6 friends on her Facebook. She’s using the ‘watwat.be’ website to search for information.

Woensdag 18:21

That’s character: Zoë is very consistent in her ecological mindset throughout the seasons. She mentions printing flyers on recycled paper, uses her bike as transport, tries to educate Milan, goes to the 'Vegan Street festival', slams Senne for polluting due to fireworks, buys a durable Christmas tree, even her lipstick brand is vegan and she doesn’t eat meat.

Hello from the outside: “I was thinking Rocket Man.”, Milan is referring to the movie based on the life of Elton John, which came out in the Belgian cinemas exactly the week before.

Perfect parallel: Milan stealing Zoë’s pasta and saying “Was that yours?” in the first episode, his “Oh, that was your tofu?” in this episode.

Funny coincidence: Milan wants to order asian food, with him wearing an asian style t-shirt with noodles on it.

Nod to the OG: Zoë’s “I was going to eat the tofu sticks now.” as reference to Noora’s “I need my fish cakes now.”. However, wtFOCK changed the story to Zoë ranting due to emotional stress, not spiraling towards former ED habits.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Someone in the flat share likes drinking 'Coca Cola'.

Donderdag 10:21

C is for culture: “Het is niet echt suikerfeest” - In Belgium, ‘Eid Ul-fitr’ is known by another name, namely ‘Suikerfeest’ (literally: ‘sugar fest’). This expression comes from an old translation to Dutch from the Turkish ‘Seker Bayrami’. The muslim community is lobbying to change this common term in the media, because the link with ‘sugar’ is rather negative.

Perfect parallel: Luca acting ‘hard to get’ towards Max in this episode, her dancing with him and clearly being interested in the last episode.

Donderdag 12:17

Perfect parallel: Luca saying “Was there a weird vibe going on between Zoë and Senne?” here, Viktor's “Weird vibe” about Senne dismissing Zoë in an earlier episode in S2, Zoë stating “There was a really weird vibe” to Jana about Robbe in S1 and Jens’ statement “There was definitely a weird vibe going on” at Robbe in S3. (They really like the words 'weird vibe', don’t they?)

Oopsie: The girls wear totally different outfits from the previous clip, even when it’s still supposed to be the same day.

Vrijdag 10:21

Perfect parallel: Zoë looking in the mirror at school and being insecure about Senne’s intentions in an earlier episode, her looking in the mirror before running towards Senne in this episode.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: They’re kissing in the Biology class room. (Again with the Biology red thread through the season!)

Vrijdag 12:34

Perfect parallel:

Senne playing with Zoë’s beach blonde hair while talking in S2, Robbe doing the same with Sander’s hair in S3.

Zoë stating that Senne always wants to be right to Milan in the previous episode, while Senne says “You were right” to her in this episode.

Zoë confessing “I’ve had more support from my friends in one day than I’ve ever had from my parents” in episode 4 and Senne's “Those are the guys I care about, my friends. That’s my family. Not my parents.” in this.

The couple having their first date at the pier in the second episode, them having a make-up lunch date in this one.

Zoë playing with Senne’s hoodie strings in S2, Robbe doing the same with Sander’s in S3.

Viktor’s manipulative “Maybe I’m a bad brother for telling you all of this” while talking bad about Senne in previous episode, Senne's protective “If he wasn’t my brother… I don’t know. But he is my brother" here.

Senne being playful and tickling Zoë in S2, Robbe and Sander having a pillow fight in S3.

Zoë wearing a black jacket with Senne in a hoodie in S2, Sander wearing a black leather jacket with Robbe in a hoodie in S3.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: They brought raspberries and vitamin water.

Vrijdag 19:34

C is for culture: "Your favorite biscuits” - Milan pulls out ‘stroopwafels’, typical Dutch wafer cookies, made from two thin layers of baked dough joined by a caramel filling. It’s a very popular sweet snack and part of the culture in the Netherlands as well as countries in the former Dutch Empire.

Hello from the outside: After this clip, Yasmina and Luca posted some insta stories and pics about making a sentence in lipstick on the mirror of lunch bar ‘De Walvis’. It said 'See you a latte' with a whale underneath. Apparently, some fans found this mirror message on the same day as they posted it.

Perfect parallel: The close up of Zoë shocked face, when she sees the pic in S2 and the close up on Robbe, when he sees Sander kissing Britt in S3.

Nod to the OG: Zoë singing along to ‘Baby’ by Justin Bieber.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The tofu sticks are from ‘Albert Heijn’, a Dutch supermarket chain with stores in Belgium.

#wtfock #wtfam #cpm rewatch #skam #skam belgium #OMG these parallels between S2 and S3 are too much to ignooooore

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contrabbandiera-di-elia · 4 years

Text

Elippo Week 2020 Day 4 Canon compliant.

—

Salento was supposed to be a small trip. Only the five of them, at most six, if Gio would manage to convince Sofia to go. But somehow it became a journey with over fifteen people, including those who Elia knew not that well or not at all. Elia didn’t have much of the problem with that, although the perspective of a trip consisting mostly of couples (including his very recent crush and her new boyfriend) and strangers seemed like quite a challenge. Good thing that Elia liked challenges.

It turned out not to be so bad. After they planned out how to transport and accommodate so many people, the trip itself was great. A little bit crowded and chaotic, and too many kissing people around, but Elia really enjoyed himself. His friends turned out not to be a bunch of douchebags who would spend time only with their significant others, the girls were cool, although he subconsciously avoided being alone with Sana, Rami and his friends proved to be chill guys, Edoardo Incanti was trying his best to fit in, and he was doing a great job at it, and Filippo...

Filippo was the biggest surprise of all. Elia was surprised himself how quickly they clicked together. He had so many chances to talk to him before, but it was Sana’s Eid party that brought them closer. Maybe that was this whole renting thing, which was a sure thing for Filippo even trough Elia still didn’t give him a clear answer. Or maybe it had something to do with how similar they turned out to be. Elia couldn’t help but enjoy their little exchanges of sarcastic remarks and light jokes. Or maybe it had something to do with how somehow they were around each other more often than before. Whenever they were all meeting together, Filippo was somewhere close to him. And even if he wasn’t, Elia would somehow make his way towards Filippo. He wasn’t sure why himself. He simply decided it’s fun to be around Filippo and didn’t pay it any more attention.

With so many people around, it was loud and chaotic all the time. And even though Elia was generally a personification of these two words, sometimes even he needed a moment away from all this mess. Which is why one day he found himself on the beach, all alone. It was an early evening, quiet and peaceful. Everyone divided themselves into smaller groups or couples and tried to find their own quiet corner. Elia took this occasion to sneak away with his guitar and play a little. He could always use some additional training, Gio was constantly on his back telling him to play more because “he couldn’t carry the whole band on one guitar alone, for fuck’s sake.” He was surprisingly dedicated to this whole idea, even though Elia wasn’t sure how much longer they could last without a proper drummer and with their shitty songwriting.

“There you are! Luchino was looking for you everywhere!”

Elia looked up to see Filippo going towards him. He was waving at him as if he really thought Elia couldn’t notice him. It was impossible, not with Filippo’s splendid collection of colorful shirts. Right now, he was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, light pink with colorful flowers all over. Elia often thought about his own style as simple and toned down, but comparing to Filippo, everyone was simple and toned down.

“What does he want?”

“Marti and Gio were telling some story from the middle school, but it turned out they both remember it differently. Their argument got too heated, and Luchino hoped you’d provide some details to settle who’s right,” Filippo explained. Still, instead of waiting for Elia to get up, he sat down himself. Elia looked at him, amused. Typically for Filippo, he didn’t even ask if Elia want his companionship; he decided it himself.

“And what was it about? That story.” He asked, turning his eyes back to guitar’s strings as Filippo seemingly decided to stay instead of going back.

“Something about a school trip and how they both got terribly lost. Something like this. And they can’t decide whose fault it was.”

“Mine, actually,” Elia decided, smiling widely while remembering the story. “I mean, theoretically, Gio. But I kinda got them more lost.”

“You little piece of shit!”

“No, no. It’s their fault for being stupid. It was like… Gio accidentally joined the group from another school, he got distracted while he was picking a present for Eva. And Marti wouldn’t stop freaking out, obviously. So I kinda worked him up even more, so he went to look for him. Long story short, they got terribly lost, Peccio and I wouldn’t pick up our phones just to make it all more fun, the teachers finally figured out they were gone, they found him, Gio and Marti wouldn’t stop arguing whose fault it was that they got lost, because yes, Gio was the one to get lost at first, but Marti was the one who made them even more lost… And over the years, they magically forgot that I had something to do with it.”

Filippo was laughing, and it made Elia smile himself. That wasn’t their peak comedy story, but he was glad that it managed to make Filippo laugh. He liked this honest, spontaneous laughs of his. It made Elia think that he is, in fact, funny. Most people thought he’s just dumb, so it was a nice change.

“What a good friend you are, really.”

“I told you, it’s their fault. They could have been smarter.”

“It still makes you a little piece of shit.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Are you into sightseeing?”

Elia raised his head, looking from his guitar to Filippo. There was something in Filippo’s eyes that made him feel uneasy. Something he has often seen in the looks Filippo was giving him, but couldn’t clearly interpret. A glint, a sparkle, some deeper meaning. Elia wasn’t used to people looking at him like this.

“Eh... Yeah, sure. If there’s something cool to see, why not?”

“Ostuni is cool to see. Have you ever been there?” Elia shook his head, and somehow, it made Filippo smile. “Okay. Do you wanna go? It’s nearby, we can make it a one day trip, or maybe even half-day, it depends. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous, and it’d be a shame not to see it when we’re so close.”

“And who else is going? Or are we all going? Did I miss some planning, or did you guys made some plans when I was not around?”

There was a bit of silence that made Elia uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to sitting in silence with Filippo. It was the first time it happened, and it felt unnatural. Finally, Filippo sighed, which made Elia partly relieved and party stressed. He felt as if he said something wrong, but he had no idea what exactly.

“You’re quite clueless, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“There are no ‘others,’ Elia. I meant you and me only.” Having no answer, Filippo clarified after a short while. “I’m trying to ask you out.”

There was another moment of silence, but this time Elia wasn’t even thinking about whether it was uncomfortable or not. He simply didn’t know what to say. Filippo asking him out was the last thing he expected. Yes, he knew Filippo was gay. But it never crossed his mind that he could be possibly interested in him. Not that he was used to people being interested in him. Each of his serious crushes ended with his object of affection getting together with somebody else. It was pretty unusual for him to get somebody’s affection. And even more unusual to get it from a man. He never really thought about himself with another man. He didn’t have an occasion to.

“Look, it’s—”

“There you are!”

Elia turned his head so quickly that he was almost sure that something cracked in his neck. The rest of the boys were slowly approaching him, seemingly fed up with waiting for them. Typical for Gio, he liked resolving misunderstandings as soon as possible. The problem was, Elia wasn’t really ready to end the conversation.

Filippo, however, was.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said quietly. “This silence was quite telling. But that’s fine.”

He flashed him one last smile before getting up. Elia didn’t make a move, trying to analyze the situation twice as fast as he usually would. On the one hand, he definitely wasn’t gay. And he was never really interested in guys. So there was no reason for him to go on a date with Filippo.

On the other hand, there was no reason not to. He was never really interested in dating guys, but did it really mean that he couldn’t give it a try. And Filippo… Well, he had to at least hope Elia will say yes. So maybe he wouldn't mind being Elia’s first guy experience. Maybe he wanted to be. Otherwise, why would he even ask?

“Yes,” he spoke up. Filippo looked at him visibly confused. Theoretically, he could withdraw. He could change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead, he got up, looked Filippo straight into his eyes, and repeated. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go out with you. Hope you have a plan because I’m terrible at making them.”

He gave him one last smile and went to join the boys. He still wasn’t sure if that was the right decision. But did it have to be?

#elippo #elippoweek #elippoweek2020 #skam italia #skamit #my fic

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noreligionisgood · 3 years

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Tim: Western cultures and people who have romanticized the horror of "The Handmaid's Tale," especially here in America, they don't understand that that's actually what's playing out over there, do they?

Yasmine: Margaret Atwood based "The Handmaid's Tale" on Iran, on what was happening in Iran when the Islamic revolution happened. And it's just so interesting to see how the women that are losing their minds over The Handmaid's Tale and saying "woah, this is just like Trump's America!" are not noticing that, actually it's based on real life, not on your hyperbolic imagination of what you think is happening in America.

It's quite frustrating to see people who are living in the freest country in the world not appreciate where they're living, especially when you're someone like me who comes from a background of really viscerally understanding what it means to not have any freedom whatsoever. There's so many of us that really understand that.

And so when you see people in America complaining - not just complaining, complaining is fine, but saying things like how we live in a fascist state, and they're comparing even what's happening in Afghanistan right now, they're saying like, "oh, what's the difference between the Taliban and what happened on January 6?"

I'm like.... what? LITERALLY ALL THE DIFFERENCES. Like,, what are you doing?! Stop trying to... it's like their life is so small, and all they know is their own little experience. And it's kind of like Paris Hilton breaking her nail and being like "oh, my god, this is the worst possible thing that could ever happen in anyone's life everrrr!"

That's what it feels like to people like me, who are coming from places that... you saw the images of people that were hanging on to the airplanes. falling to their death, that's how desperate they are to go to the US. They're handing over their babies to the troops.

My god, that should really make you pause and have gratitude for the country that you live in, and be appreciative of the fact that you were born there and that this is your citizenship because, you know, it's just luck and fate that they weren't born in some other country like Afghanistan and they weren't experiencing the horrors that people are experiencing there now.

[..]

Yasmine: Now I spend a lot of my time and energy speaking up for the people that I know cannot speak up for themselves, because they are in very dangerous situations. I mean, I think I'm in a dangerous situation, but it's not anywhere near compared to living in... trying to speak out like those women in Afghanistan that you mentioned, those five women that were walking with the Afghani flags. I can't imagine. There were men around them with these big huge guns.

The women that I always end up saying things to me like "who cares if I die? It's better than this life." Basically, they're saying they would rather die on their feet than live on their knees.

[..[

Yasmine: Just yesterday I posted an article that I wrote for Newsweek where I was talking about how the women, not only in Afghanistan are suffering, but all over the Muslim world because of Islamic laws.

And some do-gooder woman writes to me and says "but we need to talk about all of the positive things that Islam has." And I'm like, really? Really? That's your takeaway from me talking about women being tortured and killed, your takeaway is we need to talk about the "good" parts of Islam? It's such a betrayal.

So often there are all sorts of leaders, whether they are celebrities, whether they are politicians, when they go to Iran or Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan or wherever, they put the hijab on.

And it is very disheartening for the women that are fighting in those countries, because the women in those countries are fighting for their bodily autonomy, and they feel like they don't have power. And so when a woman comes in who has power, who's from a western country - you know, they're coming from Sweden, they're coming from all sorts of western countries - and they feel like "this is a woman with power, this is a woman that I can look up to, this is a woman that might speak up for me." And then they find that those women just subjugate themselves freely.

And even here, like our politicians here in Canada, every Eid or Ramadan, they have to put a hijab on to be like "Ramadan Mubarak."

Like, why the fuck do you have to do that? Why do you have to put on a costume? Why do you have to take somebody's oppression, something that gets people thrown in prison, attacked with acid, killed, and you're gonna take it and wear it for a photo shoot?

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

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Do you think that the Eid celebration was something that they couldn’t film because of covid? I am not sure how much of the season they filmed before going into lockdown, but I am guessing because we are near the end of the season most of the clips were film post shutdown. Since it would of been a big celebration with a crowd, touching each other, sharing food, I can see how they would just have to get rid of the scene. Maybe I am giving eskam too much credit, but if this isn’t the case. YIKES!!

Hi anon 🛒 I mean, it’s certainly possible that there was an eid scene planned, but they didn’t get to shoot it because of covid. I personally think it was never planned tbh.

If I were to come up with a covid-compliant Eid clip that fits within the larger storyline, I guess I’d shoot a montage of the Naybets going to different houses carrying food, greeting their Muslim neighbors/acquaintances with handshakes or hugs shot from angles where you couldn’t see one or both people wearing masks. I’d also shoot it from Amira’s POV so we can’t see whether she’s wearing a hijab or not, maybe have the extras have reactions that hint at one or the other. Finally, I’d have a bedroom scene where Amira is reviewing her list of Ramadan goals and tears it in half or balls it and throws it in the garbage can. Again shot from an angle that makes it unclear whether she’s wearing a hijab or not.

In the case of the graduation, I thought it was important that we as viewers (esp us white viewers) felt Amira’s exclusion and implicit rejection as keenly as she did AND I didn’t really see a way to properly feature graduation with the pandemic. But it was acknowledged on clips, texts and instagram. In the case of Eid, it was absolutely ignored. And yes, Amira has deleted all her apps or whatever, but like... Did Amira ever have tiktok? How can we see Cris’ tiktoks if Cris is apparently the only eskam character on that app?

There simply was no acknowledgement of Eid anywhere, when it’s arguably one of the biggest days for a Muslim. If the clip had been planned and then scrapped, I feel like the team would’ve tried to incorporate it in another way because it’d have been relevant to the story. The fact that they didn’t makes me think it was never part of the story.

#ask #skam españa #Anonymous

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jagrit0605 · 3 years

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Is it morally permissible to kill animals for food

Hey there! If you ever thought about whether it's morally permissible for you to kill animals for food then you are at the right blog. I won't be talking about whether it's morally permissible to eat animals or buy/sell them for food, neither I would talk about benefits of going vegetarian or vegan but I wanted to discuss whether it's morally right thing to do.

PS. I won't be including sacrificing animals for religious purposes like Eid because I don't want the Taliban knocking on my door. So with that being said let me share with you my views on killing animals for food.

Before beginning, whether it's right or wrong to kill animals for food , ask yourself - Is it morally permissible for us to kill humans for food? I am not talking about the situation where you crash land on a deserted island with some fellow humans, without any way out, and the only food there is your friends! But here I am talking about the situation when you do not need to. Imagine you adopted a boy, fed him, gave him a home, clothes to wear so that you can chop him like a butcher to sell his meat in the market. Most of you would already be feeling uneasy about it. So the answer to this is definitely a big No! Then why do we do that with the animals?

Again, I'm not talking about when you have to kill the animal in order to survive but when you do not need to, i.e. your survival isn't dependent on eating that animal, nor the nutritional benefits you might get from their meat. I am talking about the big picture. Let's take pig for example. Why is eating a pork chop steak in a fancy restaurant morally ok but not grilled human. Some of you would say that a pig is well a pig and a human is a human. So, the reason behind this is our biological difference, that our genetic makeup is different. But imagine an alien race invades Earth for the purpose of eating human flesh, would that be alright with you? No, simply not whether their genetic makeup is different or not, they should not kill us for food. Hence the biological difference isn't the reason that allows your subconsciousness to differentiate between eating a human and a pig.

The other argument in favour is that well a pig is a pig and we are a smart and intelligent species. So being intelligent somehow allows you to kill a pig just because it’s dumber than you. My brother is dumber than me even you might have siblings or friends who are dumber than you. Would you like to have them for dinner some day? Obviously not! You won’t think about killing them to eat their meat just because they are dumber than you. You care about them, you have affection towards them. But if he/she is a random person or any random person is fantasising enjoying your dear brother with a glass of red wine. Would you ever think about killing a random person for food? Not at all! Your subconscious would still not allow you to eat them just because they are dumber than you. So being intelligent also doesn’t solve this as well.

Now you would have surely heard this argument made by the people that if you locked a pig and a human in a room without any food, the pig would eventually kill him/her when it’s hunger goes wild. So in short this means if someone/something poses any harm to you in any situation you should not hesitate in doing the same. Although the above argument is again situational like you are stranded on a remote island, or you live in a really cold environment where vegetables are not easily available, this is frequently brought up to justify the morale in killing animals for food. Let me ask you a question, If a child punches you would you punch him back? Until and unless you are in a right state of mind, you obviously wouldn't punch back. But why not? Have you ever heard someone saying that “How dare this child lay a hand on me! I would be making soup out of his bones” ? Of Course not! This is absurd and totally nonsense. You won’t hit the child back because your subconscious tells you that he/her is a child without any intellect. They are just being childish and you have to act adult and so you won’t hit them back. So why is it different for the animals? A pig also lacks intellect, it would only attack you if their hunger takes over them or you pose a threat to them. Hence this argument fails as well.

Now the most obvious argument, “We are at the top of the food chain dude! If we won’t kill them we would disturb the food chain”. We are humans, the lord ,the king, the strongest creature in the food chain. I won’t be talking about how not killing animals would disturb the food chain and its impact on the ecosystem, this would be a topic for the future. But I'm here to discuss the moral significance of the food chain, whether it allows you to kill animals for food morally.

So we humans are strongest and we can kill any animal so we kill them for food. Ask Yourself being strong gives you the consent to harm any other creature? A bully is beating the hell out of you and when you ask “Why Are you doing this man?” and he says “because I can!”. Is it morally permissible then? Those who think yes it is, kindly ask this to those people you bullied. Of course not! Just being strong doesn’t give you the consent to kill and eat those who are weak.

You might find this familiar, people saying that it’s nature, this is how nature works. Even though you might be getting all infuriated reading this and wanting me to punch hard in the face but it doesn’t mean you should. So this argument is a failure as well.

So I started out by asking whether it’s morally permissible to kill humans for food, then we discussed the significance of genetic difference, then we discussed whether it’s because we are smart that allows us to kill them for food. Then we discussed animal nature and lastly the significance of the food chain and being on the top of it. Hence I conclude that it is not morally permissible for you to kill animals when you do not need to.

#animals #vegan #govegan #vegetarian #animal cruelty

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ofaylin · 3 years

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FAMILY TREE: AYLIN KALELI. / @gallaghertasks

YUSEF KALELI – father. 55 years. erkan petekkaya.

ELIF DEMIR – mother. 54 years. deniz ugur.

ZEHRA DOGAN – father’s long-term girlfriend. 44 years. nurgul yesilcay.

LEYLA KALELI – sister. 28 years. neslihan atagul.

ALARA KALELI – sister. 26 years. rabia soyturk.

AYLIN KALELI – self. 20 years. bahar sahin.

about.

YUSEF KALELI. “ my dad and i don’t really see eye-to-eye. he’s sort of old fashioned, thinks that me and my sisters shouldn’t drink or date, but i was more so raised by my mom after the divorce, which wasn’t quite as strict. i think he feels bad about not spending as much time with us growing up, so he definitely overcompensates...not that i’m going to say no to gifts ! he adores me, but there’s definitely a sort of disconnect, like his head’s been in the clouds ever since he started dating her, she’s a bit younger than him and she’s hot, but in an evil way, and really i think that’s the only reason he could like her. ”

ELIF DEMIR. “ my mom and i are super close, especially because my sisters are closer in age and closer with each other, so...yeah, i’m fairly certain that i’m the favorite. she’s the director of the turkish nio and as some might say, a bad bitch ! i look up to her a lot, she’s never let anything get in the way of her career, but i can tell that she really wants me to be able to have it all and then some. i learned everything from her growing up and it means a lot to me to be able to make her proud someday. ”

ZEHRA DOGAN. “ i’m pretty sure i saw her wearing my mom’s old shoes the other day ? either that or they were STRIKINGLY similar, and i don’t know who the hell she thinks she is. in fact, i’m almost certain my parents were about to get back together before she waltzed right in and put some witchy enchantment on my father. the house doesn’t even look the same as it used to, it’s all full of her stuff, and it’s kind of sketchy considering my father was her superior at work when they met. i do not. trust. her. ”

LEYLA KALELI. “ leyla’s my oldest sister and she worked at the turkish nio for...maybe a YEAR before she decided to switch career paths and go to medical school. my parents took it really hard when they found out she wanted something different because she is a really gifted spy, there were about two years we didn’t see her for eid, but everything’s okay now. she’s really confident but also quite serious, even more serious than me if you can believe it ! she has also never had a boyfriend, at least to my knowledge, but if she was hiding it i’d probably figure it out. ”

ALARA KALELI. “ alara and leyla are really close, they’re basically best friends. now i’m old enough where they’ll invite me out with them or we’ll hang out more, but they used to hate when mom would make them bring me along – because they were so jealous of how cute i was, maybe ? alara works with the turkish nio like my parents, she always tries to make it sound so cool but i have a sneaking suspicion that she does a lot of paperwork. she’s probably the most athletic out of the three of us, i’m pretty sure she could outrun anyone here at gallagher, she’s insanely fast. ”

#aylin was def an accident but she pretends not to see it #gallagher:task #muse.#ty jia for ur assistance #* and rowan

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writingwithcolor · 5 years

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British Bangladeshi Muslim 21 Year Old

I’m usually a lurker on this blog but, I’ve decided to send in a POC profile - mainly because it’s so rare for me to see someone like me represented in the media. In fact, I’m not certain I’ve ever seen someone Bangladeshi represented in mainstream media

Beauty Standards

Colourism is a very big thing still in the Bangladeshi community. My parent’s generation, despite liking to think that they’re very open minded still fall into the trap of the narrow minded view so present in the older generations. I’ve always fallen on the fairer side and as I grew up and developed mild iron deficiency, people would comment on how beautiful my skin was (and some people use the Bengali word for beautiful as being synonymous for fair), whilst my younger sister who is on the darker side but very rarely gets such comments.

Clothing

On a day to day basis, I wear casual English clothes or more casual Asian clothing around the house. But, for special occasions where I’m going to be with other Bengali people, I do tend to wear traditional clothing. Essentially, all the women in our house have two wardrobes; one with English clothes and one with Asian clothes. Although, nowadays, the English wardrobe seems to be growing more and more packed. A quick thing - traditional Asian clothes, especially those that are very flashy and embroidered, are heavy and so people don’t tend to wear them that often.

But - it differs between person to person. My mum wears English clothes around the home but her older sister wears a saree - a plainer saree but a saree none the less.

Culture

Culture is an odd one for me because I’ve never felt as if I belonged to either one. Growing up, I didn’t fit into the typical English stereotype because I wasn’t Caucasian and I grew up bilingual. I’d also hear all these bad things about Bangladesh, and the experiences others had around me would mould the opinion I had of a country my family still refer to as their motherland. But, as I’ve grown older and actually started to make opinions for myself, I’ve begun to accept that I can be a part of both, I don’t need to be one or the other.

Dating and Romance

In my family at least, ‘dating’ is done with the intention to marry. It all remains very chaste - with very little/no physical affection - until after marriage and almost all dates are with chaperones. The only ones that happen without chaperones are those in secret or those happening after the engagement. Nowadays, I feel like love marriages are the norm and most couples meet through being introduced by other people.

Food

Food is a big part of our culture. In fact, if you’re invited to someone’s house, or if you pop in for five minutes, it’s considered rude to not sit down and have a cup of tea or even to have an entire meal. Food is one of the ways that we show affection for each other and, especially for important days like Eid, food plays a central role. Eating a meal together on a festival day like Eid is one of the few days of the year when all the adults and all the children gather together and spend time together.

In my home at least, rice and curry is a staple. As Bangladesh is mainly riverine, fish is an important part of the diet. In fact, there’s a saying that if you can’t eat fish, you’re not really Bengali (which makes things a bit awkward for my uncle who is allergic to fish) and in some families there’s a tradition of a new bride cooking a fish curry on the second day of marriage. I’m not sure why, but it’s a thing.

Home/Family life/ Friendship

I could talk about family for ages …

My family is on the big side with my Mum being one of eight and my Dad being one of six. I’m one of three, but all of my cousins are considered like siblings - because we were raised as siblings. The familial bond is an important one and it’s often one that’s a burden to bear. For instance, as I’m the oldest granddaughter/niece/cousin I’m called affa by every cousin younger than me (Affa meaning older sister) and this burden is quite a heavy one to bear. It means that when the cousins experience any issues, they run to you to sort it out whether it’s something small or something big and it’s a burden I don’t mind shouldering. After all, it’s one I’ll likely have to carry for the rest of my life.

Everyone older than you is treated with respect - even if you don’t want to respect them at all. For some reason, it’s an important thing.

Friendship between Bengali girls is … something else. Often we’ll break off and have our own conversation in Bengali as if it’s some sort of secret code and this usually comes in extremely handy when discussing secret birthday party plans in front of the person whose birthday we’re planning. Personally, my parents have never been strict that I can’t have any male friends - I honestly don’t think they care but I know of other parents who insist that their daughters can’t have male friends.

Language

To me particularly, the language was an important thing. I grew up bilingual because my grandparents lived with us and they couldn’t communicate in English. But, I don’t remember ever making the effort to learn it - it was something I picked up. I certainly can’t read or write in Bengali but I can speak it. However, this ability doesn’t seem to have transferred to my sister and most of the younger cousins. Most of my younger cousins can’t speak Bengali and so struggle to communicate with our grandparents and it’s sad to say but this isn’t strange at all. Many of the new generation British Bangladeshi’s can’t speak the language and in fact, they don’t care to learn it because they don’t see it as being worth passing along.

Religion

As a Muslim woman, I find myself being constantly policed. Whether it’s by the media or by those around me. There seems to be a misconception that if a woman wears a hijab (the head covering) then she is the epitome of all things chaste and virtuous - but that’s not always the case. There are so many hijabis I know that don’t pray five times a day or keep their fasts or they drink etc. In fact, I’ve met a lot of muslim women who don’t wear hijab but their niyyah (intention) and their behaviour is inline with religion - my sister being an example.

The basic 5 pillars of islam, the first of which is the shahadah which is the declaration of faith. This is whispered by father’s into their children’s ears at birth and is the last thing whispered into someone’s ear as they pass away.

The daily prayers are the second - with 5 prayers throughout the day and this is something I know many people struggle with, but I personally think that faith is a personal thing - you alone know your struggles. If you are praying 5 times a day and you are ridiculing someone who only prays once, you may think you’re doing the right thing. But for all you know - that person who prays once a day may be someone who reverted to the faith (revert being what we call converts) and they may be on the road to accepting Islam. Your two minutes of ridicule may even turn someone else away from peace they were hoping to find in Islam.

Zakat is the third which refers to giving alms to the poor and this is often done in the month of Ramadan.

Fasting in Ramadan is the fourth pillar and during this month, Muslims fast from sun rise to sunset and we’re not allowed to drink or eat anything. (And yes - this includes water. Not even water? Is a question we always get)

The final pillar, the fifth refers to Hajj which is the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca. Everyone who is able to afford the trip and can make it, should complete it at least once in their lives. All my family who have been, have said that it is the most peaceful time they’ve ever spent in their lives.

Things I’d like to see less of…

Muslim girls being ‘repressed’ by wearing the hijab and having a curfew and being secretly rebellious once they leave the home.

Yes, I have a curfew but mostly it’s because my parent’s are terrified after hearing of all the stabbings and the acid attacks that happen to hijab wearing Muslim women

The overly strict father figure who is unreasonable and adores sons over his daughters.

My father was on the strict side yes, but I realise now, after growing up and talking to him that it was all shaped on his own experiences. Yes, he might not have let me play in the streets until late like other kids but it was because when he was young, if he stayed out too late the racist teens would approach the Bengali children and attack them. My father was strict, but in the way that other parents in his position will be. (If anything, my mother is stricter … and the worst thing she does is text me a list of chores that she wants me to do whilst she’s at work)

That brings me onto the next point; the mother who stays at home being uneducated and relying on her husband for everything.

There’s nothing wrong with that - but the issue comes when this character is used to put down Bengali women, to try and show how much better Caucasian educated women are.

Another thing I absolutely can’t stand is the idea of a Bengali girl falling for some plain, boring Caucasian boy and he removes the wool from over her eyes, teaching her how repressed she was and how she should embrace this Western lifestyle. When a boy tried that on me in my first year of uni, I walked away from him the moment he told me that he has a hijab kink because Muslim girls are and I quote ‘untouched and I can teach them everything’.

Things I’d like to see more of…

Supportive family units.

Whilst I might fall out with my parents every now and then, as is natural, they still support me. My father and I often head out for little ice cream cafe dates and my mother is teaching me to cook (although her cooking style tends to be put enough of this in and enough of that - there’s no measurements of anything) and my siblings and cousins and I gather as a whole every weekend. Those of us that live close enough to anyway. The 20+ of us that do gather, take over a house and all between the ages of 21 and 5 tend to be unruly and can go crazy but it’s a dynamic no one seems to want to represent.

The educated hijabi.

Goodness, I can’t stand seeing the trope of a girl wanting to marry and pop out babies and etc - yes, it’s a valid trope but again, so many people use it to show how backwards we are. My eyes are even rolling now - Bengali Muslim girls are amongst some of the most driven people I have met and this is usually because the older women in our families weren’t given these opportunities and most people instantly assume that we’re not going to get far.

Casual mentions of Islam - religion is a big part of a character.

But I hate it being a controversial thing especially since Islam literally translates to ‘peace gained through submission to Allah’ and newsflash, Allah is the arabic word for God. That’s it. Why can’t we have characters who have to be home before sunset because they need to pray? Or hijabis needing to go shopping for a new headscarf or even phrases like 'this top would be so cute if it weren’t see through’ or 'if only this dress was floor length and then I wouldn’t have to wear leggings with it. I hate having to wear leggings in the heat’. These are things I regularly say!

Wooow, this is long and I kind of ended up rambling. But I hope it helps someone!

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

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cancerbiophd · 4 years

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Thanks for the tag @docresa!

1. Who are you named after? My mom’s maiden name I think. The “Ju” in Julia sounds like her last name.

2. Last time you cried? I don’t quite remember..

3. Do you like your handwriting? Yeah! It used to be ugly as all heck and I worked hard to make it better, so I’m pretty darn proud of it.

4. Longest relationship? My husband and I have been together for now, um, hold on I need to.. do some math.. uhh 7 years now? Dated for 5, married for 2.

5. Do you still have your tonsils? Ya. And I recently learned what tonsil stones are so one more thing I wondered as a kid solved!

6. Would you bungee jump? Nooooooope. Don’t like falling, even if it’s on purpose. Plus I feel like I wouldn’t be able to breathe with all that air rushing past; I can’t breathe when there’s wind blowing directly into my face. I can’t even count the number of times I nearly blacked out while visiting downtown Chicago a few years ago lol that was fun.

7. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Ok so, 3 parts Rice Krispies, 1 part either Cocoa Pebbles or Fruity Pebbles. Bc the Pebbles by themselves is just too sweet.

8. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Ya I have super narrow feet so my laces are on tightT-TIGHTTIGHT! (breaking bad, anyone?)

9. Do you think you’re strong-willed? I almost have my PhD I think that answers that.

10. Favorite ice cream? Cookies n Cream or BUST.

11. What is the first thing you notice about a person? uh, their.. face?

12. Football or baseball? I only watch football because of my husband, but that does not mean i understand anything. it’s actually really good white noise when I’m reading.

13. What color pants are you wearing? they are purple pajama pants with little sleepy white foxes on them :)

14. Last thing you ate? Yogurt for breakfast

15. What are you listening to? background noise of my washer and dryer

16. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Purple probably

17. What is your favorite smell? Lavender :)

18. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? We facetimed my husband’s family for eid this morning!

19. Married? Yep

20. Hair color? Dark brown

21. Eye color? Dark brown

22. Favorite food to eat? Noodle soup. Pho, ramen, you name it.

23. Scary movies? No thank you

24. Last movie you watched In a theatre? That last star wars movie. Rise of Skywalker.

25. What color shirt are you wearing? Maroon-ish. It’s my senior class shirt from high school lol. We were the class of 2007 and everyone was expecting some cool james bond references but the shirt just has a fork and knife on the front and says “stick a fork in us” and on the back it says “we’re done!” and everyone except the t-shirt committee thought it was the dumbest shit ever. but it makes for a nice lounging shirt.

26. Favorite Holiday? Christmas!

27. Beer or Wine? the only beers i like are sour beers, and the only wine i like are reds. idk why but white wine tastes like blood to me

28. Night owl or early bird? somewhere in between i think

29. Favorite day of the week? saturdays and sundays. even though i still work, at least i get to sleep in

30. Favorite animal? i’d be a total liar if i didn’t say dogs.

31. Do you have a pet? yes, a dog named lemmy! she’s a senior dog we adopted 2 years ago and i’m pretty sure she’s on the last leg of her life but she deserved a good home.

32. Where would you like to travel? alaska, singapore, northern california (i grew up there and really miss the redwood forests)

i tag: anyone who has a birthday in may and june!

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 8: To Be Grounded

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

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

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Luke’s sure prayer is still going on, so he moves about the kitchen as quietly as he can. But that assumption is proven wrong when he hears Zahra’s cry from upstairs. “I have nothing to wear!” He knows for a fact her closet is packed to the hilt with clothes. But that’s not what she wants to hear. So he pauses in the kitchen, waiting for another huff to come. He knows it will. There’s some thuds from above him, sounds like stomping. Please, he begs silently, please just let today go well. Gripping the counter, Luke inhales for three seconds and exhales for five. That’s what his therapist warned him to do when he feels overwhelmed again.

He passed overwhelmed a couple weeks. Right now he’s hanging on by threads. Though he’s positive those threads are gone too now, especially after last night. Last night, he fucked up. He knows he did. He slipped out of bed, snuck into the kitchen, grabbed whatever bottle he got his hands on and sat in the backyard, drinking right from the bottle. It felt good. He felt guilty too, but there was just an ounce of relief behind the guilt. Just enough for him to go for one more swig, when he knew he should’ve stopped. He feels terrible now, thinking about it agan. He feels even more like garbage because he keeps eying the stash.

The stash only exists under the pretense that it’s there for company and company only. And for a while, that’s exactly what it was. Just for company. But now, it’s becoming his solace again. The thing that screws his head, or even unscrews it, when he’s overwhelmed so he doesn’t have to feel again. He has no clue how Calum does it, with three kids. Granted, Calum was always more level headed than he. But still Luke just can’t some days. He tries hard to be there for everything, he tries to understand the nuisance by being a teenager. He remembers what it feels like to have no control over your life. He knows, all too intimately, what it feels like to be someone else’s puppet.

Luke slowly opens his eyes as he hears the soft click of dress shoes on the floor. Zeek rounds the corner, flashing a small smile to his father. “Upstairs is a warzone,” he laughs. “Shoes are flying.”

“It sounds like it,” Luke agrees. He pushes away from the counter, necklace hitting his chest and he waves Zeek over to the stove. “This look right?” he asks, waving over to the dish now simmering.

Zeek nods. “Dad, you’re actually getting better at the whole cooking then.”

Luke’s chest bubbles with laughter. He was not the greatest cook, still isn’t the greatest. But he’s definitely gotten better. “Alright, smart alec,” he teases, ruffling the close crop of Zeek’s hair. Zeek huffs at his father’s antics.

Noor’s the next one to survive the storm, covering the back of her head with her arms. “It’s dangerous up there,” she grins, finally standing to her full height. She pulls at the sleeves of her kurta. It’s similar to the grey one with a green pattern in your possession. Her’s is a light pink with gold accents around the neck and buttons. Noor took once glance to the one in your possession and fell in love with in it. So she begged her grandmother on the next adventure overseas to grab her one.

Luke nods at her comment. He can only imagine the chaos happening up there. He doesn’t mean to leave all the messes to you. But he just can’t handle it right at this moment. He’s barely holding on anymore. He’s probably not holding onto anything anymore. But he can’t give up just yet. So he grabs the oven mitts and moves all the food to the table and kitchen island buffet style.

After a few more minutes, the periodic stomps stop and the rhythmic sound of feet on stairs echoes. He knows it’s Zahra gate. She’s forgone anything too fancy, but still fancy enough in a blouse and billowy pant combination. “She’s arrived,” Luke teases. Ra huffs a little at Luke’s comment. She knows it’s just the band coming over, it’s nothing. But it’s one of the few things that Zahra does that makes her feel wholly herself. The day is hers. Well not really hers, but it puts her in the center. She has no one teasing her, no one prodding her about it. She can exist with no push back.

You follow close behind Zahra, praying that the rest of the day goes without any more issues. With the kids focused on the food, you duck into the back room and grab the gifts. They’re all settled down, eager to receive what they know is behind your back in bags and envelopes. You hands the kids their gifts first, “Eid Mubarak,” falling off in rushed mumbles from their lips. You and Luke return the phrase. Zahra grins, peeping at the green in her hands.

Luke hands his them his gifts. It’s always something extra. Noor immediately places the teardrop earrings on after cracking opening the box. Luke helps Zahra with the necklace and Zeek hugs you over the engraved pen. He’s always wanted a fancier pen to write and sign things his prints with, tired of using his drawing pens. The kids smile at you and Luke before all three rush back up stairs.

“Do you know what’s happening?” You ask Luke.

He shakes his head, asking you with his eyes if you know. You shake your head no, but grin as you hand over the gift for him. He always gives the same reaction, a head shake no, and a half step back. “You didn’t have.” You would think after nearly 15 years of marriage, he’d be used to this. But every year, it’s the same deal.

You roll your eyes. “You are family.”

Luke’s never sure how to handle that. He knows he’s family. But he’s not family like this, this isn’t his holiday. He wasn’t raised on this. He doesn’t want to intrude. “Sweetheart, I’m being serious. Every year you do this.”

You huff a laugh. “And yet, every year you still refuse me.” Shaking the bag at him, you urge him to take the gift. He’s not sure what’s inside, the bag’s big, but not heavy. Cracking it open, he notices the record. He looks to you, eyes widened, jaw dropped.

“How did you--What in the word?”

You just grin. The Rolling Stones record was not easy to come by. But you don’t let on to that. There’s no need. He pulls the record completely from the bag, the neon orange, yellow and red finally exposed. He grins, clutching it to his chest for a second, before flipping over to the back. “God, how long did this take to get?”

“Don’t worry about that. But you like it, right?”

“Babe, I love it,” he says softly, stepping into you. He places the record onto the counter before wrapping you up into a hug. Soft kisses line up around your forehead. The action reiterates his happiness with the gift. But you notice the hug’s not as tight as it usually is. You’re losing him. But you should you bring it up right now. You squeeze him just a little tighter for a beat and then pull away.

The kids return. Noor holding a box and Zeek with a bag. He hands you the bag, watching your reaction. It’s just a book, one you mentioned in passing a couple weeks ago. The note is signed by all three kids. Luke feels his chest constrict as the sight of the necklace in his box. It’s a simple silver chain with a small pendant. On it there’s a circular design that just looks like an amalgamation of swirls. But Zeek talks about how there’s two different Z’s and an N inside the design to stand for the three of them, with your initial made up in the middle. “Guys, I love it. You three at the best thing to ever happen to me,” he says quietly hugging them.

“Besides the band right?” Zeek teases.

“He means before the band,” Noor corrects, lightly slapping at Zeek’s arm.

Zeek rolls his eyes, but laughs. “Forgive me.”

There’s a twinge of disappointment when you realize Luke hasn’t given you anything. He’s always had something at this time. You woke in the morning and expected Luke to shove it into your hands almost immediately. But it didn’t happen, never one to try to make too big a scene you figured to wait. But here you are, waiting, still.

“We waited to get you something else, Mum. But we were stomped,” Zahra confesses, hugging your side briefly.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the dreading feeling of disappointment from Luke’s lack of a gift. A smile lifts your lips. “I love it. I don’t need much.”

She nods. “But still, sometimes we want to spoil you.” You kiss the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her. As the kids settle down in the living until the rest of the boys and their families arrive, Luke pulls you into the kitchen. “I didn’t forget about you,” he whispers, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You only nod. He’s saying that but you notice how his eyes keep leaving your face. What’s catching his attention so much? “You okay?” you ask, forcing his attention back to you.

He’s not okay. He’s not. Luke pushes the glasses up on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know Michael’s bringing your gift. I didn’t forget. I swear to it.”

You nod. Why Michael has your gift is beyond you. But Luke’s not looking you directly in the eye, he keeps fidgeting with fingers. He’s slipping. The album’s taking longer than they originally thought, also they’re slowing down. Now with two of the four of them will fully established families. Michael’s on the verge of a family. He and his wife talk about having kids, but aren’t sure. Ashton’s settled down. But they’re antsy, they need an edge. They feel like they’ve lost it. But it can’t just be the record that’s getting to him.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know,” you state. “Whatever’s going on, tell me.”

He shakes his head. Was he that bad already? “I’m okay.”

“Find me when you feel like telling the truth.” You exit the kitchen. Normally, you aren’t this direct, this confrontational. But you refuse to watch Luke spiral again. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, you just want him to be honest, to stop bottling things up.

Luke watches the spot you were occupying for a beat too long. His body freezes and his chest squeezes. He’s all too reminded of the day you actually moved out of the house. Harlowe had helped you move your things. She carried Zahra on her hip and you and Luke stood on the porch. He couldn’t beg you not to leave. He begged you instead to remember that promise of a second chance. To let him get himself together. But it still hurt, still made him feel like someone had replaced his air with fire watching you walk down those steps and to your car. It still made him cry for an hour on his front porch when your car backed out first, Harlowe in the U-haul behind you.

Oh he is not going through that again. But he can’t spill his guts right now. He clears his throat and steps out of the kitchen, knowing your gaze is locked dead on him. The doorbell sounds and Luke walks over to answer it. Michael grins at him, the small holding cage in his hands. “Babe,” Luke calls, waving Michael inside.

You immediately notice the small kitten, clawing at the cage. A black persian cat. You know the breed all to well. Luke unlatches the door. He reaches inside and carefully collects the cat into his arms. “You’re not even a cat person,” you whisper.

He crosses the hallway to you. “But you are.” Silently, he offers to small ball of fur to you. “He doesn’t have a name yet.”

Noor walks over, gently petting the cat in your arms on the head. “So we might’ve known about the cat. Do you know how hard it was to keep that a secret?”

“He’s very sweet. He climbed up my arm. I have video,” Michael laughs, pulling out his phone. You’re too busy with the kitten in your arms. His smoked gray almost black fur. The melancholy gaze behind bright blue eyes. For a moment, you are a kid again. You have no worries, no traveling from country to country. There’s no harm, no death, no pain. His fur is soft and thick between your fingers. He studies you intently for a moment, before bringing his gaze around the room.

“He’s absolutely the cutest thing.” The awe is evident in your voice, your voice thick and vision blurring just a hair.

“I told you, I didn’t forget.” Luke scratches the top of the kitten’s head. As you gaze up at him, he thinks for a moment, he’s back on track. It took him weeks to pick out the right cat. He even brought the kids to the shelter several times. It did not take much to get Michael in on housing the kitten until the holiday. Michael, after fostering his first kitten, started undertaking some furry friends into his care more often.

“You don’t like cats,” you huff. You want to keep it together. But the tears are already rolling.

Luke shrugs. “He’s cute. I miss having a furry friend in the house.” You two had Petunia until her end. Which was a hard hit. But sometimes the only way out is through. “It’s not a dog, but he’s still company.”

The kitten peers over your arms, a clear indication that they want to get down, so you gently lower to the ground and watch him inspect the foyer and kitchen. “What are you gonna name him?”

“Oh shit,” you huff. “I-I don’t know.”

Noor gently taps your arm, a warning glare for the curse word. But she grins. “I say Floyd. Because you like Pinky Floyd. But Zeek said Smoke. It sounded dumb to me. But I didn’t say it.”

“I can hear you!” Zeek shouts.

“Love you!” she returns, ducking behind Luke. Zeek peers around the corner and rolls his eyes. She always uses Luke as a shield. But it’s okay, he’s going to get her back. Luke places a hand on her back, laughing. This is what he missed. He misses his kids needing him. Zahra spends most of her time in her room or with her friends. Zeek has always been reserved. He’s close, but he’s not affectionate all the time. Noor at first and to this day is still very close to Luke, but lately instead of running to him for help she calls you more often. If she’s out shopping and can’t choose between a top, she turns to you now. Luke feels like he’s not needed anymore. His whole recovery hinged on his family needing him.

Luke recognizes that he had to get better for himself too. He couldn’t keep down that path, but it was much easier to tell himself it was for the benefit of someone else too. It felt more urgent that way. And now that urgency was leaving him. He had been feeling it for weeks. Just lacked the right way to bring it up to anyone. As the house fills up with Ashton and his partner, followed by Calum and Harlowe and their crew, Luke finds himself able to forget the urge in the pit of his stomach. He’s able to gaze at the stash and not long for it.

“You cannot bring Floyd to the table,” Luke smiles, watching Noor with the cat in her lap.

“Please?” she pouts.

A sigh escapes his lips but he nods. He can’t say no to her. She beams up at him, collecting the kitten and rushing to the table. She throws her free arm around Luke’s waist. “Love you, Dad.”

A few tears prick behind Luke’s eyes. He rubs her back for a moment. “Love you too. Now c’mon, let’s eat.”

Luke’s been on the deck for a while. After the boys left and the kitchen was scrubbed down, Luke slipped out of the house. You had only noticed as the backdoor slipped close. You wanted to walk out after him, but you know better. If he’s not willing to talk, you can’t force him. The kids settle down for a movie after a twenty minute argument of who gets to decide. Floyd’s already asleep in your lap. Another reason for your lack of escape to the backyard. But as the backdoor cracks open and Luke leans into the house, you know you’ll have to move now.

You slide Floyd into Noor’s lap, the closest one to you. Normally this sight would make Luke feel at peace. Normally he’s slide in next to you and tussle Zeek’s hair. He’d do something, but all he can muster right now is the slight nod to the outdoors. You slip through the small crack in the door, brushing up against Luke’s chest in the process. He closes the door behind you. The sky is clear and still. You’d normally ask, pry into what’s going on. But you don’t have to, as soon as the glass shuts, Luke grabs your hand.

“I’m not okay,” he starts. “I feel useless again. I know I was doing so well. The whole point of me getting better was to be here for my family. And I feel like I’m fading.”

“Why? Why do you feel like your fading”

“The kids don’t need me like before.”

“They grow up. Things change. It’s an unfortunate truth.”

“I just--I’m not equipped for it. It feels like it came without a warning.”

“Just like you weren’t equipped for fatherhood. No one can really fix that. I can’t snap my fingers and make things better.”

He sighs, looking out to the night. “I know.”

“Tell me what I can do. What do you need?”

Luke runs a hand over his face. He needs help, he needs to be grounded again. “Come with me to my next appointment. I-I don’t know what I need. I just know I need help.”

Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your head to his chest. “I can do that.”

When shouts start up from the inside of the house, the all too distinct sound of the kids shouting at each other, Luke tenses. It’s too much, his feet are planted to the ground. He needs to be grounded. He has to keep it together. He can’t bare the thought of be separated again from his family. You rub his back. You know you’ll have to do some more heavy lifting in the house. “We’re getting rid of the alcohol too.”

He nods, face buried in your hair. He’s fine with that. He’d prefer it actually. He just doesn’t trust himself to do it. No one said being a parent would be easy, but Luke never thought it’d be this hard for him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I don’t have it together.”

“No one does. It’s okay to not have it together.”

“I’m sorry to do this on Eid. I really couldn’t have picked a worst time even if I tried.”

You laugh, softly, shoulders shaking just a tad. “Just as long as the kids got their gifts, we’re fine.”

“I’ll try to keep it together for the next two days.”

“If you need a breather, just let me know.” They’re kids aren’t particularly known for being the quietest bunch. It’s nothing but love, but it’s a well known fact.

Luke lifts his head after kissing the crown of your head. “Thank you.”

You could say, ‘You’re welcome.’ You could tell him it’s your responsibility to care about his mental health. You could tell him a lot things. But the truth of the matter is that you will always care, you will always be there. “I love you,” you return. The truth of the matter is that even though it’s rocky you’re still by his side. That even though your heart breaks to see the man you love in such anguish, you are not going to give up on him.

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