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Enemies to lovers but make it me and chai.
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Hey I saw your tips for drawing muslims but do you have any for writing them?
hello hello, thanks for the ask!
WRITING MUSLIM CHARACTERS
stereotypes to avoid
– the “oppressed hijabi” trope
listen, most of us wear hijab because we want to. because we grew up around it. because it’s as natural as wearing a shirt. please stop acting as though we all despise our hijab and our religion
– the “misunderstanding parents” trope
why are all muslim parents emotionally or physically abusive in fiction? i personally have an amazing relationship with my parents. also not all muslim parents are trying to suck the joy out of their children’s lives. they’re just trying to keep their kids safe. also this trope usually gets pretty racist because the reason they don’t understand their child is because they’re “not from here” and “don’t get how things are done” so yknow, avoid that.
– the “abusive dad” trope
listen. i’m fully aware that abusive parents are horrible and something that people should be made aware of, but when every muslim dad in fiction is abusive, that’s just islamophobia. just. give us good relationships with our family!!!
– the “silent mom” trope
how come muslim mothers in fiction have no lines? have no voice? they’re just silent products of a household there to cook and clean. what is that all about?? please. just stop
– the “White Boy Romance” trope
oh, all muslims know where i’m going with this Do. Not. Have. A. Hijabi. Take. Off. Her. Hijab. For. A. White. Boy. please. don’t have her take it off, period. but especially not for romance. actually, if your narrative involves a muslim girl stepping away from her religion and taking off her hijab and realizing she’s happier this way, throw the whole story away. i’m sorry, but if you’re not muslim, this isn’t something for you to write about. this is not your story to write, and writing it will be extremely islamophobic. avoid a typical romance. muslim romances do not occur the way western romances do. either you gotta be okay with that and write it properly, or you should do your best to avoid it altogether.
THINGS TO DO
– let them have friends!! let them have muslim friends!! especially if they live in an area that has a high muslim population.
– let them talk about things that aren’t their religion. listen, my muslim friends and i talk about religion occasionally, but i can assure you, more of our conversation revolves around the hot boy of the week or about whatever shows we’re watching. and in terms of non-muslim friends, religion isn’t a point of tension. we respect and celebrate our differences, and that’s it. we talk about it sometimes, but we don’t argue about it
– make it clear that we’re muslim without just saying it. have us take a step aside to pray. have a character compliment our hijabs. have us fast in ramadan (or make up fasts in the winter). have us eat halal meat. say bismillah before we eat. say alhamdulillah after sneezing or when we’re thankful. subhanallah when we see something beautiful
– we’re not nuns. we find people attractive. we discuss it. it’s not a big deal
– make sure we have a personality that doesn’t revolve around our religion. yes, our religion can be a huge aspect of our identity and life, but no, it’s not the only thing. make them obsessed with a show. give them nervous habits. what do they collect? are they introverted? you tell me!
– avoid intimately close friendships with the opposite gender. casual acquaintances is fine, but this is something i would personally avoid writing if possible
– research what is haram. i’ll give you a basic list:
- meat that isn’t halal
- gelatin (unless it’s plant gelatin or from a halal store)
- missing prayers
- sex before or outside of marriage
- cheating in any way
- abuse towards your family (yes, this may come as a shock to some, but it’s actually prohibited by islam)
do more research, of course, but this is a basic list.
i think that about covers it: don’t stereotype us, make sure it’s noticeable that we’re muslims, give us personalities, and make sure we’re avoiding haram stuff
before anyone comes at me: i’m aware that there are muslims who don’t follow the rules and who do haram things and who don’t like their religion and don’t have stable family relationships etc, etc. BUT when that is our only representation in media, it’s islamophobic. show us good muslims, who like their religion, whose religion is their identity, who don’t feel like their religion is causing them to lose out. because we exist.
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Writing is a healing for me. Spring among the words I wrote smell like a rose which blooms every season. And it is a wonderful experience for me to attend a writing class. Bismillah for that. 🌸
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writing essays whilst fasting has to be the most demanding, arduous thing on this planet.
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Cold coffee after iftar (breaking of fast) hits different bro
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heard arab dark academia was a thing so here’s my take on it !
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i hate the word remember
(a janamaz is a pray rug)
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so today i was cutting up some fruit to make fruit salad for my family for iftar and it just struck me how, i am,,, literally living the life i continuously dream of living,,, like i love and romanticise the idea of slow living, of a sweet life with moments like this when i am just present cutting up fruits for the people i love and i thought of how odd it was that this is what my life has always been,,, always!!! and yet,,, i am continuously always dreaming of it,, and picturing it as my ideal life,,, yeah,,,
Adara: I'm not saying poison him, I'm just saying some people don't hold their cyanide in well.
Ademir:... remind me why we’re friends again?
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New laws in France and Germany about Hijabs etc.
Idea: we all get to getter (with mask etc. ofc) and everyone wears some kind of a hijab or scarf etc, and we protest. And with everyone I mean everyone, every gender, sex, sexuality, age. They say those laws are protecting people which Hijabs etc. but (as a non muslim white trans guy) I think it’s oppression. To all Muslims/hijab/scarf wearers, please share your thoughts on this. I hope I’m not disrespecting in any way. Have a good Ramadan y‘all!
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one day i'll have a group of friends that also romanticize everything, and appreciate art and literature and architecture and aesthetic appeal, and take candid photos of each other and go on picnics and walks in the wood and appreciate each others music and value kindness and peace. friends who care about me the way i care about them. maybe not now, but one day
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Number 04, phrase 02, bakugou katsuki
Please and thank you, I love your writing ❤
bakugou katsuki ━━━ you’re mine, got that?
♡ details :
bakugou katsuki x fem! reader, possessive sex, biting, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, riding, kachan makes you fuck yourself on his fat cock <3
♡ note :
hello there anon! i’m sorry for the delay of publishing this piece. i actually have it done the day you sent me your ask but i got caught up in editing and uni. but still, i hope you like this 🥰 and thank you for liking my works!!
“I’ve been feeling a little angsty these days, F/n and you know that full well but you decided to be a fucking whore, huh?” Bakugou growls at your ear, flicking at your clit in pleasurable waves. Your back arched against his chest, head slumping down his shoulders when your core had finally snapped in two, a broken cry falling from your lips.
It was only an hour when he pulled you in his room, the third time he had brought you to your orgasm just by using his thick fingers. The oversensitivity running on your body sent shockwaves of adrenaline to your dazed mind. You felt tired but the emptiness and the ache you felt throbbing on your lower half needs to be satiated and you are willing to beg if Bakugou wants to.
“Katsuki, please a-ah, f-fuck me.” You were still a quivering mess, Bakugou never once removed his fingers inside your sloppy cunt. He started moving again, your legs trembling in response to his unrelenting thrusts of his thick digits. His thumb flicks on your gummy clit, your toes curling and legs closing but his free hand had kept it open.
He hits you in deep, more than you can reach with your small ones. You can feel him groaning behind you, his chest rumbling when you moan out his name. Drool had fell on your lips, eyes closing as you continue to indulge in Bakugou’s rough demeanor.
“You need to do better than that if you want to be fucked by my fat cock, F/n.” You felt his sharp canines sink in deep in the smooth and sensitive skin of your neck, strings of your cries had echoed in the room. It was enough to draw some blood, the (s/c) color dulls in the darkest shades of red. Bakugou didn’t stopped leaving just one bite from your neck, marking you in places deemed impossible to hide underneath your clothes.
“P-please Katsuki! Make me cum with your ━ah, fuck━ fat cock. Fill me up, ruin me, please!” The desperation on your tone wasn’t enough for him. Of course, this was your punishment after being such an attention whore and bet, he’d give it to you.
“Fill you up? Ruin you?” Hot air had brushed on your ear, his hair gliding against your cheeks and he looks down to your pussy dripping with the slick you had from the past hour. It seeps through the sheets of his bed and when he removed his fingers out, you whimpered and blushed as you hear how filthy and wet you are under his control.
“No, princess. I won’t do that.” Bakugou lifts you up, turning you around as he places you on top of him. He rests his body on the bed frame and takes out his throbbing cock out of his sweatpants. You saw how the tip shines with precum, his thumb rubbing circles to spread it more on the head.
If not for the remaining rationality in your already fucked up brain, you would’ve drooled at the sight. Seeing Bakugou jerk himself off, the sensual sounds he makes that shifts between a short huff of air and a small moan had your mind craving for more. You want to be the reason why he makes those noise, the selfishness rooted deep within the lust you felt for your man fogged your mind with greed.
Bakugou knows how much you were affected, smiling at your awaiting form.
“If you wanted to cum so badly then make yourself cum with my cock.” It shocked you, a puzzled look had made its way to cover your crazed expression. “What? I don’t have all day, F/n. Go fuck yourself with my cock you slut.”
On cue, you moved up and shakily positioned yourself on top of his dick. You rubbed the head on your clit down to your leaking hole in slow strokes, eyes locked in Bakugou’s gorgeous red ones. He was focused on every action you do, amusement clearly evident on his face. Bakugou just laid there, watching you lose yourself with his cock.
“Don’t be shy,” he mutters under his breath, pausing when you finally sink down his long and thick shaft. His eyes close for a moment, his mouth opened to let out a moan of your name. He can feel his chest tightens when he sees you willingly fuck yourself in his cock, your breasts bouncing up and down on his view, both hands assisting yourself as you placed it on his chest.
He doesn’t need to even help you, loving the rough and fast pace you maintained throughout the minute. You were clearly enjoying yourself, crying his name out as if that’s the only thing you can ever utter. Bakugou fucking loves this, he fucking loves you so much but he needs to assert more of his dominance, to remind you of who is really in charge.
He went to trap your chins on both his hand, causing you to open your eyes and he immediately moved your gaze down to where you two are connected. You saw how much slick had covered his pants, your thighs shimmering and your pussy making the sloppiest sound you heard your entire life.
“Take a good look at how your pussy swallows my cock whole F/n. Do you see how much of a whore you are? So obedient, so desperate just to take a taste of my cum.” His words had gotten into you, ripping out another cry when he grabs you on your waist and jerks himself to meet your falling body. With your legs spread wide, he perfectly hits all the right spots inside you. “So, who do you belong to?”
Without a second to spare, you screamed out his name.
“You’re mine, got that?” You then felt his arms wrap around your body, lying you on top of his chest with your legs still spread open for him to thrust upwards in a more rougher pace. Your tears had dripped down on his shoulders, fingers clawed at the sheets. You were lost, so lost in his ruby eyes and the red fires of your lust.
“My precious cum slut.”
kanajous © 2021 ㅡ all rights reserved , do not plagiarize, republish, or copy my work.
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Reyhana was beautiful.
This was not a conceited statement. She was seen as beautiful by all who looked upon her. It was in her dark skin and how it caught gold in the light, her full cheekbones, and the tilt of her eyes. It was in her delicate fingers, the curve of her smile, and most importantly, the sharpness of her wit. She was beautiful from head to toe, but the beauty she let the public see stopped there. She covered the rest of herself in flowing silks and loose draping. Her hijab was beautiful too, traces of gold thread around the edge. Nothing too flashy, it was modest in comparison to the other princesses she had met.
Beautiful was fine for those princesses. They were beautiful. But so often they themselves had complained about how they were limited to just being beautiful. Reyhana didn’t mind being beautiful, but she felt that it was something private. To share only with very special individuals.
Most importantly, Reyhana was bright. In many senses of the word.
She has a bright smile and shining personality. She greeted everyone with excitement and joy. She had a quick wit and was the first to get a joke in. She was warm and inviting. She loved the palace gardens and feeling the sun on her face. She loved reading outside, studying anatomy or puzzling out complex equations.
When her father had expressed concerns over tax budgets and how to best use the money to help their people, she helped balance the coffers so that everyone’s needs could be met. The roads fixed or housing set up for those in need or food allocated to those without work.
Reyhana was a light for her people. As any princess should be. But the princess had a secret. She was bright. In every sense of the word.
One night, something went wrong. She could hear a scuffle down the hall from where she had been reading. She ran out of the room to see assassins heading towards her fathers chambers. She ran forward, shouting so they looked at her. Her gowns and scarves may not have been flashy, but in that moment her hands and face most definitely were. Her face shone like the sun and her outstretched palms were beams of pure starlight.
The blinded and captured assassins were sure of two things.
Reyhana was beautiful. Reyhana was bright.
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Happy Ramadan to all those who celebrate!
Depending on where you live, you might have already started fasting or you might have not. Regardless, wishing you all the best and may Allah provide you all with the strength to get through the month
Love you all 🤎
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In urdu, we don't say love.
We say, 'عشق'. To fall into a bottomless ocean of feelings no one has ever explained because it's overwhelmingly heavy in our bones & our bodies can't embody its meaning.
"You, my dear have possessed me & my heart knows no name other than yours".
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