#Racism Research Paper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingwithcolor · 5 months

Text

My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?

@floatyhands asked:

I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man. I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe. I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!

Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights

There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism.

The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere.

Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.

The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.

Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.

But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others.

This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.

Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.

I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press).

For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor.

There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.

Colonialism’s Popularity Problem

Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.

By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”

Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine.

A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.

You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart.

It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.

Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.

In Conclusion

Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.

You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.

You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.

Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept.

Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.

~ Leigh

#colonialism #colonization #worldbuilding #alternate history #history #lgbt #china #hong kong #british empire #ask

542 notes · View notes

victoria-daydreams · 18 days

Text

The Winner Takes It All||Challengers

AN: So, I finally I got to see Challengers yesterday and boy do I have thoughts that may or may not be weaved into the story, things still might be ooc or wrong. Also, I'm warning y'all now, I know absolutely nothing about tennis/college and partook in half ass research on how the sport functions.

Based this fic off the most gut wrenching ABBA song because it fits so well with the story. I hope you all enjoy this mini series, don't know if I did it justice from translating this from my head onto Tumblr, but we move. And hopefully there aren't any spelling or grammar errors, but if there are, we die like men.

A playlist for this series is coming soon!

Word Count: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: mentions of colorism and racism

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don't know if you'll get the notification.

Part One: Sugar & Spice

With her arms folded across her chest, Gianna's eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of her as two male sports analysts began to discuss their pick for match of the day.

"Oh man, this right here was my favorite today!" one analyst stated excitedly.

"For sure! It was the match to watch as the tennis world bore witness to the next up-and-coming tennis star," the other commentator agreed.

The camera cut away from the men and to the highlights of the mixed doubles championship match.

"Out the gate Gianna Langdon, ranked number five in girls singles, set the the tone for the day with a powerful ace to start the match,"

A clip of the opening minute of the match is put on the screen with Gianna throwing the ball high in the air for the first, and perfectly executed serve, followed by her pumping her fist in triumph with a grin.

"From there, she and her partner, Max Sullivan, kept their opponents, Roy Christians and Marie Riviera on the back foot for what seemed like the entire match,"

Gianna studied the way she nimbly moved around on the grass court, her swift volleys, sharp serves, and effortless backhands left no room for doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Play of the match goes to none other than Gianna Langdon, with this volley to put the nail in the coffin of this championship," the analyst reported, as the final moments of the match popped up on the screen.

With a powerful strike, the tennis ball was slammed back over the net by Roy onto Gianna's side of the court. Roy's hit lifted the ball high into the air forcing Gianna to reposition herself and backpedal to the spot to return it. Leaping up, Gianna smashed the ball down with force, out of reach from both Marie and Roy, the game winning hit. The clip replayed, but only this time in slow motion, so viewers at home could properly admire the athleticism on display. ESPN then did a jump cut of Gianna and Max both dropping their rackets simultaneously before rushing towards each other to embrace. Max even lifted up her a bit, twirling them around as they celebrated their victory.

The camera panned back to the two commentators who were wrapping up their coverage of the tournament.

"Honestly, Gianna Langdon just dominates the tennis field for her age group whether it's single or doubles," the commentator complimented, gathering his papers up in his hands and tapping it against the desk.

Gianna's lips lifted at the praise, its rare she gets her flowers as a tennis player.

"She's a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about that. If she keeps playing like she is now, she can easily break into the top three, but she's no Tashi Duncan," the other commentator corrected.

At this, her smile instantly fell off her face. Since freshman year of high school, Gianna has forever lived under the inescapable shadow of the phenomenal, powerhouse that is Tashi Duncan. Because Tashi wasn't just some athlete, she was the athlete. The next Serena Williams, as some people taken to calling her. Gianna might as well been chopped liver.

The girls have been thick as thieves since Gianna moved to the same school as Tashi and was paired up by their coach to be doubles partners. The duo were unstoppable on the court, as Gianna was a tennis prodigy in her own right, but often was relegated to just being known as Tashi Duncan's partner. A repeated slight which didn't go unnoticed by her two strongest supporters, her parents. They made it their mission to drill Gianna with an unshakable sense of self confidence in not only her skills with a tennis racket, but also her appearance.

"Don't you ever let the media or naysayers play in your face about your talents, Gianna," her father's words echoing in her head. "You already know, you have to work twice as hard to get half the recognition compared to others," he went on.

Gianna recalled the exact day, he gave her this speech. She was probably fifteen and won a match against some Eastern European girl, it was an upset, and boy did everyone make it a point to tell her so. It ranged from backhanded compliments to outright slurs lobbed at her.

"Oh, so when Tashi pulverizes her opponent on the court who's ranked higher than her it's admirable, but when I do it's a problem!" she complained.

"Competing against Tashi, you need to be prepared that narratives are going to be formed and pushed from factors beyond your control," her father warned. "She's lighter, you're darker. She's thin, you have curves. You're both confident, but only one of you is going to be labeled as arrogant," he listed.

"It's a shame we didn't get to see Duncan and Langdon compete together in girls doubles this year," the analyst said, snapping Gianna out her thoughts.

"Agreed, the best girl duo in juniors we've seen in years,"

Images of Gianna and Tashi materialized on the screen, some were from the last two Junior US Open Championships; both of the, proudly beaming and holding their trophies high above their heads and kissing each other's cheek. But, the one picture that stood out the most to Gianna was their cover on Tennis. Both of them had their arms folded and their game faces on with the headline emblazoned below them.

“Sugar & Spice”

~~~x~~~

Rounding the corner of the hallway, the doors where Tashi's party was being held outside came into Gianna's view. Music and the low murmur of voices floated out of the room, bouncing off the walls as she drew closer. From the corner of Gianna's eyes, she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror promoting her to stop. A pair of eyes, identical to color of rich, molasses stared back at her. Carefully, Gianna studied herself in the mirror from every angle. The healthy glow of her golden, deep brown skin made the light dusting of freckles decorating her upper cheeks and nose more prominent.

"She's no Tashi Duncan,"

It only took those four, little words to dampen Gianna's cheery demeanor and leave her brooding since the afternoon.

Lips pursed, she shook her head slightly, "No, no, no," she whispered to herself. "You're still a champion, Gianna. Fuck that ESPN analyst," she said lowly, smoothing out the pale yellow halter dress she wore.

Letting a lopsided grin grow on her lips, Gianna moved away from the mirror and entered into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. She weaved her way through the crowd to find Tashi, but found herself stopping repeatedly to smile and shake hands as people crowded round her to congratulate her on her match. Gianna couldn't help but feel smug. For once, people were basking in her presence and enjoying the chance to meet a future tennis star in person. It boosted Gianna's ego—a pure, bone-deep satisfaction that something in the air was beginning to shift.

She was starting to be seen as a standout player, not just an extension to Tashi.

Thanking her last well wisher, Gianna's eyes met Tashi's who was a few feet from where she stood. A flicker of recognition flittered across her face and she smiled a tiny smile. Tashi was not alone though, two boys were standing in front her and seemed to be having a very lively conversation.

"What's this I see?" Gianna wondered aloud, brushing past one of the boys. "I'm gone for a minute and you're already making new friends without me," she joked, dropping into the empty chair next to Tashi.

Across from her, both boys were slack jawed and unable to tear their eyes away Gianna. Pride simmered in her chest, Gianna already knew that she was beautiful, but it was nice to be reminded of that fact every now and then. Especially, when there's two boys ogling at her looks and treating her like a divine being.

"You boys gonna stop staring and introduce yourselves, or what?" Gianna questioned, her words flavored with a lulling Louisiana drawl and the boys snapped from their stupor.

"Let me, these two seem to be malfunctioning," Tashi cut in, with a smirk.

"They keep on drooling any longer, they'll catch flies," Gianna quipped, her nude colored lips curling upwards.

Tashi motioned to the dark haired boy with sharp features, "This is Patrick Zweig," she introduced, as Gianna's eyes met Patrick's gray ones, holding her stare and grinning widely. Confidence that bordered on cockiness practically radiated off him. "And this is Art Donaldson," Tashi continued, gesturing to the boy next to Patrick.

Art only allowed himself a small, shy, smile when her eyes shifted over to him. Unabashedly, Gianna let her eyes roam over Art's features. Those blond curls, those blue eyes.

God, they're both gorgeous.

Tashi placed her hand on Gianna's knee, "Patrick and Art, this is my best friend—" she started.

"Gianna Langdon," Patrick and Art interjected simultaneously, causing a Cheshire grin to form on Gianna's lips.

"Well, well, my fan club only continues to grow this tournament," Gianna joked, playing with the curly ends of her pick and drop braids.

"Deservedly so, you were absolutely amazing this tournament," Art complimented, a breathy chuckle leaving him.

"That play when you landed a split after playing a return," Patrick mentioned, beaming at her. "And you still got the point, fucking incredible!" he praised, shaking his head.

She smiled, "Oh, so you two have been avidly watching my matches then?" Gianna questioned, playfulness in her voice while slightly leaning forward in her seat.

"Ashamedly, not initially," Art admitted, and Gianna quirked brow. "But after your storybook comeback in Round 4, we knew there was no way we couldn’t stop watching you," he added quickly.

"Singles or doubles," Patrick chimed in.

"Did you by chance watch any of our matches, Gianna?" Art asked timidly, staring at her with hopeful eyes.

She smirked, "Singles or doubles?" Gianna asked back, smoothly echoing Patrick's words.

"Either," Patrick responded, his eyes drinking her in.

They both seemed mesmerized. Leaning in closer, as if they were going to learn her with their close proximity. Gianna hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and raising a finger to her chin to mull over the question. She glanced over to Tashi, who was already watching her with an amused expression. Embarrassingly, Gianna kind of forgot her best friend was literally sitting next to her, she had become too engrossed in her conversation with the newcomers.

"No, can't say that I have," Gianna answered finally, with a shrug.

Art deflated, his face falling as the tips of his ears went fiery red, while Patrick's shoulders sagged a little.

"O-Oh," Art breathed.

There was a silence. Gianna looked off to her side again to see a ghost of a grin threatening to appear on Tashi's face. When the two girls' eyes connected with each other, they burst out laughing at the same time. Both boys looked at each other wordlessly, both speechless by this.

"Gia's just fucking with you two," Tashi explained, in between laughter.

Relief couldn't have been written across their faces more clearly.

"Yeah, I actually watched your championship match while I was in the recovery room," Gianna informed, her giggles subsiding. "Your between the legs shot was very inspired, Patrick," she remarked, with a smile.

At this, Patrick puffed out his chest a bit.

"You know, they're playing against each other tomorrow in the boys singles championship match," Tashi mentioned, her eyes bouncing between the boys.

"Are they now?" Gianna responded, an intrigued smirk gracing her face while crossing one leg over the other.

"We are!" Art blurted out, almost too eagerly.

"You both should come and watch," Patrick suggested.

Gianna cocked her head to the side, "Hmm, maybe," she answered, having a little fun toying with them.

Tashi rose from her chair, reaching her hand out for Gianna's.

"Come on, my dad is waving me over to come take pictures," Tashi informed.

"This is a group activity?" Gianna questioned, her brows furrowing.

"No, but the demand for Gianna Langdon is ever growing," she reminded, her eyes filled with mirth.

"It sure is," Gianna agreed, taking her hand as her friend helped her to her feet. Gianna looked over to Patrick and Art. "Well, ciao. It was nice meeting y'all," Gianna said, waving goodbye as Tashi led her away.

"Goodbye?" Patrick jokingly scoffed. "We'll be here all night!" he called out after her.

~~~x~~~

True to their word, Patrick and Art were in the same spot where Gianna and Tashi had left them earlier and they were more than willing to continue hanging out with the girls. Which is how the group of four found themselves on the beach, slowly treading along the sand, the dark blue sky and millions of stars above them. Naturally, Tashi had found herself in the middle of the group with Patrick flanking on her left and Art on her right.

Gianna was next to Art and as they walked, their arms would accidentally brush against each other every now and then. Both of them exchanging shy smiles at the fleeting contact that sent butterflies fluttering in Gianna's stomach. She secretly relished the contact from Art, he radiated warmth similar to that of a dryer-warm blanket; a nice contrast to the cool sand between her toes.

"You know earlier, Tashi asked us who was fire and who was ice," Patrick spoke, looking over to Gianna. "I figured I should return the favor, between the two of you, who's sugar and who's spice?" he asked, his eyes bouncing from Tashi to her.

"Tashi, is definitely 'spice'," Gianna answered, and Tashi rolled her eyes with a smile. "She's more fiery than me and has a more aggressive play style than I do," she explained.

"Making you 'sugar', of course," Art reasoned, the two staring at one another. "You are the perfect mix of deadly grace and effortless balance on the court," he described, going in an almost dreamlike trance.

"Why, thank you Art," Gianna said, bumping her arm into his.

"If Tashi is 'spice' and your 'sugar', why does the media switch it around?" Patrick wondered.

"Preconceived notions, methinks," Gianna replied, simply shrugging her shoulders.

They wandered along until they settled on a spot to hang out at. Art and Patrick both sat in deck chairs while Tashi and Gianna perched themselves on a large rock. Conversation flowed between all them on a myriad of topics ranging from college, life in general, and of course tennis.

"So Gianna," Patrick began, a small curious and mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your doubles partner Bryce—"

"It's Max," Gianna corrected flatly, with a laugh.

He smirked, "I was in the ballpark," Patrick argued, throwing his hands up. "Anyways, you and Max, you two a thing?" he asked curiously, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Eww, no!" Tashi exclaimed, her nose twisting in disgust. "You think Gia has such low standards?" she asked back, clearly offended on Gianna's behalf.

"Tashi, come on, Max is not that bad of a person," Gianna stated, lifting her hand up to tell her to calm down.

"Honestly, I don't know how she does it," Tashi went on. "It's a miracle she can still walk after carrying Max through this entire tournament," she sneered.

"Look, Max is not someone who I would consider as an ideal mixed doubles partner," Gianna conceded, her gaze meeting everyone's. "He's mediocre actually," she said bluntly, making Patrick and Art both snicker. "However, Max as an individual and not as an athlete, he's a wonderful guy," she said, with a slight shrug. "Us dating has never once crossed my mind," she finished, waving her hand dismissively.

"So it sounds like you'll be in need of a new partner soon," Patrick hinted, a hunger in his stare.

"Hmm, I guess I will," Gianna agreed, letting a coy smile grow on her lips. "You know anybody?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"I can think of two people off the top of my head," Art responded, taking a drag of his own cigarette and blowing it out slowly.

"Oh, is that so? And who just—" Gianna started.

Suddenly, Gianna's phone began noisily vibrating in her lap, putting an end to the playful between the boys and Gianna. She picked up her phone and flipped it open before exhaling heavily, it was her dad texting her.

"Shit, fun's over guys," Gianna announced, with another sigh. "My dad wants me back in my room," she explained, unfolding her legs.

"Your won a championship today, and you're father won't let you stay up late to celebrate?" Patrick asked in disbelief, leaning forward in his chair.

"Obviously, you don't know my father if you think a single championship win is going to get him to loosen his reins on his regimented schedule for me," Gianna stated, grabbing her sandals and letting them dangle from her fingers.

"You're about to be off to Stanford, it's insane your dad is giving you a curfew," Art chimed in.

"Well, I'm not at Stanford yet," Gianna pointed out. "And also..." she trailed off, turning to Tashi who had a knowing look on her face. "His roof, his rules," they both said in unison, after hearing those words countlessly over the years.

Finally standing up from the rock, the boys followed suit. Both of their gazes traveled the length of Gianna yet again, as if they needed to commit her to memory.

"I can walk you back to the ferry and to your hotel," Art offered kindly.

"We both could," Patrick volunteered.

"As much as I am flattered that both of you want to walk me back, I can manage just fine," Gianna assured. "Plus, we're all going to be playing an unwanted game of 21 questions if my dad sees two, random white boys walking me to my room," she remarked, with a chuckle.

Tashi pushed herself up onto her feet, "I'll come with you, Gia,"

"No, no stay, Tashi," Gianna encouraged. "Don't end the fun on my account," she insisted. "Another time will come about for all of us to hang out again, right?" she questioned.

A toothy grin broke out on Patrick's face, "There's gonna be another time?" he asked

"I don't see why not," she answered, mirroring his expression. "The three of us are going to be at Stanford together, and I'm sure you come visit from time to time. It all works out so well!" Gianna said excitedly.

Art opened his mouth to speak, but the shrill ringing of Gianna's phone silenced him. Looking down at the phone, she grimaced slightly.

"Shit, I really have to go, my dad is calling now," Gianna stressed.

"Then get going," Tashi prompted, playfully swatting her bottom.

A surprised whoop escaped Gianna's lips before morphing into a giggle as she began to half-walk, half-jog away from the group. She spun around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"This was really fun y'all, we should do this again, yeah?" she yelled.

"I look forward to it!" Art yelled back.

"Me too!" Patrick shouted.

Laughing, Gianna spun around and jogged away, all too aware of the three pair of eyes boring into her back.

~~~x~~~

Propped up against the hotel bed headboard, Gianna was tucked underneath the blankets with a well-worn copy of Baking with Julia in her hands. If tennis was her first love, then baking was her second. There was nothing more relaxing than to Gianna than being able to slow down and just allowing herself to focus on precision, without any of the heightened stakes that came with tennis. Not to mention, beating eggs or whisking a cake were great ways to rid herself of any frustration she may be feeling.

A series of rhythmic knocks on her door pulled Gianna from her musings. She didn't even have to ask who it was, she could tell by the pattern of the familiar knock.

"Just use the card I gave you, Tashi," Gianna called, her voice just loud enough for her to hear.

There's a quiet click of the door unlocking before the door opened a crack and Tashi's head popped into her room, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Hurry up and get in here, before my dad sees!" Gianna ordered, with a laugh.

Closing the door behind her, Tashi pranced over to Gianna and sat beside her on the floor on the edge of her bed.

"Tell me everything! What happened after I left?" Gianna asked, a smile of her own on her face.

"They invited me to come up to their room,"

"And you went?"

"I did," Tashi answered, a smirk on her lips.

Gianna landed a playful hit on Tashi's arm, "No fucking way!" she whispered, her eyes wide. "You hooked up with both of them?"

"I didn't sleep with them," Tashi corrected. "We only made out, and then they made out," she added, smirking proudly.

Gianna raised an eyebrow, "They made out? Patrick and Art?" she questioned.

"Yep," Tashi grinned.

"On their own or did they have some help?" Gianna asked, arching a brow.

Wordlessly, Tashi plucked Gianna's book from her hands and she straddled her, resting each leg on either side of Gianna.

"They did most of the heavy lifting, I just gave them the push they needed," Tashi explained, looping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Now, I'm a little jealous. I missed out on all the fun," Gianna complained, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout.

"Gia babe, don't worry, I did not forget about you," Tashi reassured, as Gianna hands came to rest on Tashi's thighs. "Remember their match tomorrow?" she reminded.

"Yeah,"

"Winner gets my number…." Tashi trailed off, removing her right arm from around Gianna's neck. "And yours," she finished, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

A slow smile spread across Gianna's lips as Tashi's words sunk in. She knew exactly what her friend was up to, especially if it meant Tashi could watch some "real fuckin' tennis".

"Tashi Duncan, the girl that you are," Gianna praised, letting out a chuckle.

Leaning forward, Gianna planted a soft kiss on Tashi's lips. It was only meant to be a quick peck, but as Gianna went to pull away, Tashi held her face, keeping their lips connected.

Tashi withdrew herself from Gianna, "Tomorrow is gonna be so fucking good," she grinned, her eyes twinkling at the thought. "And guess what is the best part about all of this, Gia?" she questioned, their forehead resting against each others.

"What?'

"We already have them wrapped our fingers, without even trying," Tashi answered, sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

#black!reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers x reader #black fanfiction #tashi duncan x reader #black!oc #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig

333 notes · View notes

thebrightestwitchofherage · 5 months

Text

Responding to yet more unhinged Anti zionists arguments

Because I am not going to waste my precious time and energy on replying to each ignorant person who believes Hamas are a "brave resistance group"

For the millionth time: I do not support the genocide of Palestinians when I say Israelis shouldn't die. I am not deflecting or denying anything, I am making posts about how I and other Israelis have been impacted by October 7th and the war ever since. I am allowed to mourn my people.

Released female Israeli hostages aren't "weaponizing Feminism". Just because some were "only" sexually assaulted and threatened with rape, doesn't mean others aren't raped. Israeli women were targeted on October 7th. Their assault, mutilation, and violent rape were all planned. Hamas terrorists who were caught and interrogated have said so themselves in published recorded interrogations. *** Regarding Mia Shem- I've said before: mocking her appearance isn't making you the great humane person you think you are. I've had some nutjob tell me "Oh well in an interview she said she was only groped and others were raped. She's using feminism and things people care about in order to gain sympathy." She was: -Kidnapped from a party and shot. -Operated on by a veterinarian while in captivity for over 50 days. -Starved ,beaten, mocked , groped and sexually assulted while constantly threatened with being raped. And you're mocking her. Wow that is a new low. Believe Jewish women.

You are constantly backing up your "facts" and statistics with un-credible sources. Let me make this clear one final time: Al Jazeera = racist and antisemitic supports terrorism There isn't a Gaza Ministry of Health- it's Hamas.

Palestinians and Hamas specifically are very racist towards Afro-Palestinian / black people. A quick Google search will lead you to this:

Anti-Black racism in Palestine

The State of Palestine has a community of Afro-Palestinians, many of whom are descendants of the victims of the historical Slavery in Palestine, which ended in the 20th-century.[43]

Racism against African Americans in Palestinian media (Wikipedia)

Former U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, has been the subject of some viciously racial personal attacks, alongside vociferous criticism of her policies.[44] These included an anti-black racist cartoon in Palestinian Authority's controlled Press Al Quds. The New York Times reported in 2006:

Her comment that the Israel-Lebanon war represented the "birth pangs of a new Middle East"— coming at a time when television stations were showing images of dead Lebanese children — sparked ridicule and even racist cartoons. A Palestinian newspaper, Al Quds," which "depicted Ms. Rice as pregnant with an armed monkey, and a caption that read, "Rice speaks about the birth of a new Middle East.[45]

The Palestinian media has used racist terms including "black spinster" and "colored dark skin lady."[46][47]

.... The African Palestinians who now live in the two compounds near al-Aqsa mosque have called the area home since 1930.[12] They have experienced prejudice, with some Palestinian Arabs[21] referring to them as "slaves" (abeed) and to their neighbourhood as the "slaves' prison" (habs al-abeed), and their colour has led to objections against them marrying Palestinians with lighter skin.[9][3] According to Mousa Qous, director of the African Community Society and a former member of the PFLP, "Sometimes when a black Palestinian wants to marry a white Palestinian woman, some members of her family might object." Interracial marriage with Afro-Palestinians has become more common in recent years.[8] In colloquial Palestinian Arabic, standard usage prefers the word sumr (dark colour) over sawd, which has an uncouth connotation.[22]

-For further reading I found this research paper to be very detailed: https://d-nb.info/1204258597/34

*** I have to mention this as well since some anti-Zionist brought up MLK as an example for their argument against Israel: you clearly have no idea what you're talking about... he was a Zionist!

Jews and African Americans have historically been allies in their struggles for equality. He literally wrote an open letter titled "Letter to an Anti-Zionist friend", explaining why he supports Zionism. Do your research.

5. Gaza hasn't been under Israel's control since 2006, it is controlled by Hamas! Before that, it was governed by Fatah, Another terrorist organization (Hamas killed all of the Fatah members when they came to power). Hamas = terror organization leaching off the Palestinian people. They want to kill all Jews and are against everything that represents the West. UWNRA - Is filled with Hamas terrorists. UN & ICRC - Both have a long history of being biased against Jews and have failed the Jewish people once again.

6. Israelis don't deserve to die just because they are Israeli. They are not privileged to have a government that (relative to Hamas) cares about their civilians.

7. "From the river to the sea" Is a genocidal chant calling for the death of all Jews / Israelis. The final solution / one solution = killing all Jews, holocaust. Intifadas aren't peaceful or inspiring resistance. It's Terror attacks targeting civilians: Shootings, stabbings, lynchings, school buses exploding, etc.

I have an entire post explaining this, you're welcome to read it but the main takeaway should be: You don't get to decide what's anti-Semitic, Jews do. If Jews tell you this chant threatens them and is antisemitic- it is.

98 notes · View notes

creekfiend · 5 months

Note

As a history and folklore enthusiast I gotta admit the amount of "ye olde European folk traditions" was actually made up by 19th century eugenicists is very disappointing and makes me engage in the genuine middle ages folk traditions of throwing people into gorse bushes, whilst also asking them why the fucking so-called "master race" needs to sew goat balls into their testicles (the latter part is not from the middle ages)

Like seriously that was a fad in the early 20th century for eugenics reasons. Wtf.

(Sorry I have been researching the history of quack medicine, which turned out to have links to both eugenics and occult shit, and also I am drunk)

SOOOO MUCH WAS JUST INVENTED WHOLE CLOTH BY SOME GOLDEN DAWN FUCKERS BROOOO I think about this all the time. racism 🤝 occultism is the thing.

my view is that you don't need to try to locate some untainted continual practice in order to do stuff like pick a favorite tree and sing it songs or go on walks on the full moon because it's really bright and you don't need a flashlight. or write someone's name on a paper and burn the paper while chanting "fuck this guy in particular"

you know. regular stuff

103 notes · View notes

tieflingkisser · 5 months

Text

Top US Newspapers Show 'Consistent Bias' Against Palestinians: Analysis

The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Los Angeles Times have regularly "used emotive language to describe the killings of Israelis, but not Palestinians."

An analysis published Tuesday shows that three of the most influential newspapers in the United States—The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Los Angeles Times—have reliably shown a bias against Palestinians in their coverage of Israel's assault on Gaza and its reverberating consequences. Writer Adam Johnson and researcher Othman Ali examined the three outlets' coverage of Israel-Gaza between October 7—the day of the deadly Hamas-led attack on southern Israel—and November 24, which marked the start of a negotiated pause that ended just a week later. The Israeli bombardment has continued relentlessly since. The pair's analysis, published in The Intercept, found that across more than 1,000 articles, the three newspapers showed a "consistent bias" against Palestinians. Specifically, the outlets "disproportionately emphasized Israeli deaths in the conflict; used emotive language to describe the killings of Israelis, but not Palestinians; and offered lopsided coverage of antisemitic acts in the U.S., while largely ignoring anti-Muslim racism in the wake of October 7." As the Gaza death toll surged during the first month and a half of Israel's assault, the three newspapers' mentions of Palestinians in their coverage declined, Johnson and Ali found. In the period between October 7 and November 24, the outlets used the words "slaughter" and "massacre" a combined 180 times when describing the toll of the Hamas-led attack on Israel. The newspapers used those terms just five times when describing Gazans killed by the Israeli military. "The Washington Post employed 'massacre' several times in its reporting to describe October 7," Johnson and Ali wrote. "'President Biden faces growing pressure from lawmakers in both parties to punish Iran after Hamas' massacre,' one report from the Post says. A November 13 story from the paper about how Israel's siege and bombing had killed 1 in 200 Palestinians does not use the word 'massacre' or 'slaughter' once. The Palestinian dead have simply been 'killed' or 'died'—often in the passive voice." Johnson and Ali previously found similar bias against Palestinians in the coverage of CNN, Fox News, and MSNBC.

#free palestine #palestine #usa #racism #islamophobia #news

49 notes · View notes

neotrances · 7 months

Text

gonna wind down talking about it bc it’s annoying but i am saying this as a disabled person that struggled constantly in school and had trouble understanding things and failed classes constantly, while my school did fail me with providing the support i needed, blaming being uninformed and unable to gather knowledge from media and writing on my middleschool not doing enough when i am 21 years old and choosing not to seek out info to help myself understand better would be no one’s fault but my own, u can’t blame ur highschool anymore when ppl ask u to be able to identify racism in media and to be able to recognize propaganda if ur 20+, too many of u are comfortable with being uninformed about the world and politics and general reading and that is a luxury you are being afforded bc of the privilege you have as an american and that should upset you, if i can spend time to research things to better understand the world im literally living in so i don’t accidentally contribute to harm you can too, you shouldn’t spend ur life knowing you can’t dissect an article or a paper whilst being active in the politics of ur country and claiming to be ally’s to causes of groups ur not apart of, its irresponsible and you know that, thats why you get so defensive bc it requires work on ur part to change that, work that you are too lazy to do

60 notes · View notes

doublydaring · 1 year

Text

Hi! This past quarter I took a writing in history class that allowed us to choose the topic of out final research paper. As an avid student of historiography, history of the oppressed, and 2000s emo music, I chose to write mine about race in emo, specifically focusing on three frequently discussed figures, Travie McCoy, Pete Wentz and Ray Toro. In the interest of continuing the conversation about racism in bandom I have uploaded the essay to my newly created substack. The essay is by no means perfect, its very surface level (the assignment had a word limit) and my word is not law, especially as a white person. I have noticed a lot of people (especially people of color) get really dumb asks on here asking for "resources" on racism. I am by no means offering this essay as an anti-racist manifesto, its a research paper not a treatise, but I think it might be helpful for giving some perspective.

All of this is a very long preamble to linking my essay and thanking @thrashbeatles who's zine "Sing it Like the Kids That Are Mean To You" inspired this paper and is quoted extensively (you should go buy it here https://www.birdloaf.com/shop/sing-it-like-the-kids-that-are-mean-to-you-digital-zine)

Very importantly, I am super open to criticism and suggestion. I am happy to update, add, and remove any section that needs improvement. This has been through no sensitivity reading except for my white boomer parents.

#gym class heroes #decaydance #pete wentz #travie mccoy #fob #ray toro #my chemical romance #cal did you ever end up reading this for me idk?

256 notes · View notes

tornioduva · 4 months

Text

Gerudo Redesign (coming at some point)

ok, so, i discovered that i like being active here, it kind of motivates me uhuh. so, while i have energy, i want to give breath to some other ideas and discussion i have and want to make.

So, long story short: i'd like to propose a new look for the Gerudo women from the Zelda series. But this will require some research on my part first. But you can join in it too!

So, while this is a fun exercise on its own, it's been motivated by a specific thing, that being a series of threads on orientalism i read, plus articles and discussion.

One of the things i always praised about the Tears of the wild duology, is the way they built the world, made it feel alive and how grounded and thought of a lot of things were, especially regarding the various people living. and especially regarding the Gerudo, the citadel blew my mind at the time.

At the same time, something always felt off about how they looked, despite being extremely varied and interesting. Like, them showing so much skin in the scorching sun and freezing nights; I appreciate the sight, and i'd love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life being pressed against the midriff of these beautiful women, but it feels like their outfit is designed more for appeal than for...using it. You could say is part of their genetics in being a different race altogether to not suffer extreme temperature, but it does not convince me honestly, at least not while they look so human. At the very least, i think we can convey it better than just "they can", something along the line of the dwarves in dungeon meshi.

Plus they all wear heels and run on the sand.

In addition to my personal gripes, then all this discourse on orientalism added on, all the various borrwed aesthetics in their clothes borrowed from a century of stereotypes, and so on.

All this to say that i very much think a better design, far less rooted in orientalism and fetishitazation. also racism, because yes, having one race of people, amidst other more fantastical ones, being defined different than the regular "human" ones just by being taller, browner, genetically and culturally more violent and living in the desert,

But it requires a good amount of research on a lot of things i don't know, like how people live there, what kind of different actual cultures might be appropriate to represent and maybe some changes in their physical appeareance.

Am i stroking my ego a little in announcing it instead of just making it? maybe.

Mainly though this was to motivate others in joining the discussion if they liked the idea. i'm going to do this research on my own anyway (very slowly though, uhuh), but if anyone reading want to contribute, share ideas, culture, attires, or just their own opinion, feel free too and i'll try to consider them all!

Thanks in advance if that will be the case! otherwise, till we meet again with some actual ideas put to paper uhuh.

#tornio #tornioduva #torniod #fantasy #fantasy art #gerudo #zelda #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tears of the wild #zelda tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #botw #loz totk #zelda totk #totk #loz botw #gerudo redesign

29 notes · View notes

septembriseur · 1 year

Text

From Stanley Cohen's States of Denial:

My earliest memory that could be called ‘political’ goes back to a winter night in Johannesburg in the mid-nineteen-fifties. I must have been twelve or thirteen. My father was away from home for a few days on business. Like many South African middle-class families (especially Jewish and anxious ones), we employed for these rare occasions a ‘Night Watch Boy’: that is, an adult black man – in this case an old Zulu (I vividly remember the wooden discs in his ear lobes)– working for a private security company. Just before going to bed, I looked out of the window and saw him huddled over a charcoal fire, rubbing his hands to keep warm, the collar of his khaki overcoat turned up. As I slipped into my over-warm bed– flannel sheets, hot water bottle, thick eiderdown brought by my grandmother from Poland– I suddenly started thinking about why he was out there and I was in here.

My mother always used to tell me that I was ‘over-sensitive’. This must have been my over-sensitivity at work, an inchoate feeling not exactly of guilt– this came later– but that something was wrong. Why did this old man have to sit out in the cold all night? Why had our family (and everyone like us) been allocated black men and women (who were called ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ or just ‘natives’) as domestic servants? Why did they live in tiny rooms in the backyard? Where were their wives, husbands and children? Why did they address me as ‘baas’, or ‘master’?

I don’t remember what I did with my bedroom epiphany. Almost certainly, I just dropped off to sleep. But later, even when I began to think sociologically about apartheid, privilege, injustice and racism, I would still return to some version of that early psychological unease. I saw this unease– correctly, I believe– as arising from a sense of knowing that something was deeply wrong, but also knowing that I could not live in a state of permanent awareness of this knowledge. Without my deliberate intention, this awareness would switch itself on or, more often, off. There might be weeks or months of blindness, amnesia and sleepwalking. Political education – later called ‘consciousness raising’ – made these phases less frequent, just as it should do.

Later, I started asking another question, one that I still discuss with people who grew up with me. Why did others, even those raised in similar families, schools and neighbourhoods, who read the same papers, walked the same streets, apparently not ‘ see ’ what we saw? Could they be living in another perceptual universe – where the horrors of apartheid were invisible and the physical presence of black people often slipped from awareness? Or perhaps they saw exactly what we saw, but just didn’t care or didn’t see anything wrong....

...By this time, my obsession appeared from an unexpected direction. In 1980, I left England with my family to live in Israel. My vintage sixties radicalism left me utterly unprepared for this move. Nearly twenty years in Britain had done little to change the naïve views I had absorbed while growing up in the Zionist youth movement in South Africa. It soon became obvious that Israel was not like this at all. By the 1982 invasion of Lebanon, I was already disenchanted with the liberal peace movement in which I thought I belonged. I drifted into what in Israeli terms is the ‘far left ’ – the margins of the margins.

I also became involved in human rights issues, particularly torture. In 1990,I started working with Daphna Golan, the Research Director of the Israeli human rights organization, B’Ttselem, on a research project about allegations of torture against Palestinian detainees. Our evidence of the routine use of violent and illegal methods of interrogation was to be confirmed by numerous other sources. But we were immediately thrown into the politics of denial. The official and mainstream response was venomous. Liberals were uneasy and concerned... Yet there was no outrage. Soon a tone of acceptance began to be heard. Abuses were intrinsic to the situation; there was nothing to be done till a political solution was found; something like torture might even be necessary sometimes; anyway, we don’t want to keep being told about this all the time.

This apparent normalization seemed difficult to explain. The report had an enormous media impact: graphic drawings of standard torture methods were widely reproduced, and a taboo subject was now discussed openly. Yet very soon, the silence returned. Worse than torture not being in the news, it was no longer news. Something whose existence could not be admitted, was now seen as predictable...

...It was natural to make the claustrophobic assumption that this problem was unique because Israel was uniquely horrible. Luckily our visitors from the international human rights community reminded us that the problem was universal. They were interested in information circulating in the international arena. How did audiences in North America or Western Europe react to knowledge of atrocities in East Timor, Uganda or Guatemala? I started imagining a nice thirty- something couple sitting, with their breakfast coffee and croissants, in New York, London, Paris or Toronto. They pick up the morning news- paper: ‘Another Thousand Tutsis Massacred in Rwanda’. In the mail plop two circular letters, one from Oxfam: ‘While you are eating your breakfast, ten more children starve to death in Somalia’, and one from Amnesty: ‘While you are eating your lunch, eight street-children are killed in Brazil’. What does this ‘news ’ do to them, and what do they do to the news? What goes through their minds? What do they say to each other?

143 notes · View notes

seldomscilence16 · 5 months

Text

Alright so this all started with a lego set at work, turned into a long ass intro, then its 11 on Christmas Eve and I decide to just do the Christmas snippet and finish the rest/context later.

So please ignore spelling 😬 and Happy Holidays all! Also TW for a bit of Racism at one point, theres a bullying scene but a short one. "Well if it isnt..." is where it starts and "there a problem here." Is where it ends.

Hope you enjoy this snippet! Stay safe everyone and thank @autisticlancemcclain for the Bug boy Lance!

...

Lance could kick himself.

He knows better than this. He knows what happens, he knows that once they get what they want, they'll leave.

And yet, here he is, spending hard earned money, on four classmates. Sure he'd saved them for last, focusing on his families gifts first and foremost- its the main reason he got the job, part going to saving for emergencies, the rest to spend on Christmas- but he was doing the thing he'd sworn off.

No people. People hurt and use and lie and tease. Lance was supposed to he strong until college, his fresh start, but then these four had to go and be NICE and do their part and- yeah the bar was really low...

"This isnt going to end well." He mumbles, the hustle and bustle of the mall overwhelming with holiday traffic and leaving him worn out before he even enters an actual store.

He scans aisle after aisle, berating himself for putting so much thought into something he wasnt even supposed to be doing. His eye catches something green and he comes to a halt. Its legos, one of those collectors sets that costs an arm and a leg, but Lance hadn't even known Lego did THIS.

'The insect collection'.

"Blue Morpho Butterfly, Hercules Beetle, and a Chinese Mantis." He breathes in awe, eyes scanning every detail.

"Well if it isnt Mclame."

His head snaps up, a group of classmates before him, most of which are his very reason for his No People rule.

"Still a freak about bugs I see, surprised you havent married one yet- maybe even they dont want you!" He snorts when he laughs, a strange noise from the back of his throat that remind Lance of a Donkey or Pig.

"Not like he could even afford it, if you want you can have your mom come clean my house." One girl taunts from the back, Lances blood boiling at the blatent racist remark despite Lance's CUBAN heritage.

"If you do have money to spare you should buy me lunch instead, for having to be in your vecinity for this long." Another boy plugs his nose, like he showers every day. Lance sits behind him in English, and he does not.

"There a problem here kids?" A man in the mall security uniform eyes them all carefully, eyes giving Lance a once over that makes him uncomfortable.

"No sir." He replies polity, deciding another store may hold better finding anyway- at least better company.

....

Lance's budget was low to begin with, but eventually he comes up with ideas for the four.

It starts with Hunks treats. The things that get them through their library sessions when the projects blur. And Lances job allows him access to plenty of people who would love to share things with anyone who will listen. So painstakingly, Lance translates recipes to paper as the older generations he enteracts with give him a little baking show.

Shiro's, surprisingly, comes next. A single comment about how much he hates ruined shirt sleeves, as they get caught on his prosthetic port. Its winter, and tank tops simply wont do, so Lance finds himself knitting in his spare time. Doing hours of research to see what possibilities will be the most comfortable, with of course a very lame joke on the front.

Pidge's was an accident. Lance's bike- sabataged it would seem- leaves him crashing off path in a ditch on his way home from work. He ends up limping his way through thick folliage, dragging a broken bike in the late hours of the afternoon. The little squeak is almost ignored, the second one however, well its Lance.

The little thing is a puffball, Lance was almost sure it was a toupé, until it moved and blinked at him. He thinks its a dog, no idea what kind, but its tiny and fluffy and following him home. Lance has three allergic family members, but Pidge mentioned a family dog who had sadly passed away and nearly broke Lances heart. The green eyes tell him this little thing will be a lovely match.

Keith is the hardest. Lance honestly almost buys a knife, because the guy is a conspiracy theorist and gets into way too much trouble not to have a few knives on him. But it doesnt seem right.

But Lance see's how often he doodles.

Freakin gorgeous doodles.

Then he finds the brand 'Keff Artistry' and its too close to 'Keef' for Lance to pass up.

...

He almost tells his family to simply lock him up and burn the gifts, but then they'd be worried and he's trying to avoid that thank you, hes been doing an excellent job masking his turmoil thus far.

So, the day before Christmas Eve, Lance gathers his gifts in trembling hands, and slips out of the house unseen. If this turns into a mess, he'll deal with it himself this time. He has to grow up eventually, he cant keep crying about bullies to his family, its not a big deal anyway.

"What the heck happened to your face!?" Pidge's incredulous tone has everyone eyes snapping towards said face.

"Its nothing, bike accident." Lance shrugs it off, as he'd done when he'd come home with it, he had too little proof anyway. Anyone could have carved 'McLame' into the side of it.

"Accident huh?" Its mumbled by someone, but Lance cant place it and decidedly ignores it anyway.

"I uh... have gifts... for you guys." He changes the subject, directing the attention to the bags he carries.

"For us?" Hunk asks, eyes wide and sparkly, "You know you didnt have to buddy."

Well, supposedly.

"Yeah, its not much, but uh, here." He hands them out carefully, extra careful with Pidge's.

"Guess its a good thing we brought ours to you then." Shiro says, pulling a wrapped box from the spare chair.

Lance's eyebrows furrow, staring at the box in confusion, perhaps with a little trepidation,

"You guys got me something?"

"Yeah! We all pitched in!" Pidge grins at him, something she does sparingly- grin that is.

He takes it with clammy hands, still shaking ever so slightly. He holds it to his chest as he watches the others open their bags, watches their faces carefully.

Hunk holds the hand bound book tenderly, eyes shining as he flips through the pages carefully.

Shiro stares in awe at his sweater, a chuckle escaping him as he runs his fingers over the soft material.

Pidge squeaks, as the small dog bumps its head against her face, cold nose sniffing excitedly. She holds the animal close, the dog snuggling up like he always belonged there.

Keith is staring at his gift. The art set held half out of the bag, as if he hadnt been expecting it. He turns wide eyes towards Lance, and the cuban can see the emotions there.

This is one of Lance's favorite parts about giving. When he did good in the eyes of the reciever, when they LIKE what he gave, genuinely. No matter its monetary value.

"Lance, this is amazing." Shiro breaks the silence, turning wide eyes his way, smile big and bright and real.

"I cant imagine how long this took, this is amazing! I havent even heard of some of these!!!" Hunk is tearing up, book hugged to his chest, grinning at Lance like he'd been given a great treasure.

"I cant believe you got me a dog! He's just a little puff!" The excitement is so nice to hear, its practically contageous.

"I... havent recieved something this nice from anyone but family before. Thanks Lance." Keith is downright shy as he admits this little fact about himself, and Lance could cry.

"I'm... really glad you guys like them."

"Now open yours!" Hunk encourages quickly, sitting to watch him intently, practically vibrating.

Lance could almost feel scared, but....

He allows himself a little hope.

He opens the paper gingerly, savoring his first gift from anyone outside of family. A corner is revealed, familiar for some reason, another inch-

Lego Ideas The Insect Collection.

"What-" It comes out choked, shock clear on his face.

Is it a joke? Are they mocking him? It was expensive, theres no way they'd spend that much on a joke right?

"Its the one you wanted right?" Pidge asks, a slight pinch to her brow.

"We only saw you from across the mall, so we didn't know- You're crying oh Gods, whats wrong Buddy-" Shiro Panics, quickly kneeling by the chair Lance had collapsed into.

"I don- Why- I can't- "

"Breathe! Come on-" Hunk exagerates his own, encouraging Lance gently to follow as he chokes on tears and air and spit alike.

"Its not a joke right?" He finally gets out, looking pleadingly to the group, running a reverant hand across the box, "You did this to be nice?" He can hear the vulnurability in his own voice, but he's about a second from breaking completely.

"Yes, yes, of course! All 1,111 pieces are inside!" Shiro assures quickly, rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder and arm.

It gets a wet chuckle from Lance, as he pulls the box to his chest once more.

"No ones... thank you so much, I can't... can't tell you how much this means." He wipe at his face, "I'll repay you, I promise-"

"Hey, its a gift Lance." Keith says, voice softer than ever, "We wanted to get it for you."

"Merry Christmas Lance."

"Merry Christmas."

#fic #my writing #voltron #langst #snippet #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #hunk voltron #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #bullying #angst #happy ending #merry christmas #happy holidays

28 notes · View notes