auntie and uncle

anonymous asked:

yknow Dean's "So introduce me, then I won't be a stranger" sounded like a guy trying to announce their relationship to Cas' brothers sisters aunties uncles cousins nephews nieces grandparents-

Yup the whole thing is so “my family don’t like you cos you corrupted me and we fucked up their plan thanks to you so no if we want something from them you coming is the WORST idea honey”.

@margarittet called him Cas Corleone last night and I spat out my tea it’s so accurate :p

Originally posted by slimelaurent

yo danny fenton he was just 14 when his parents built a very strange machine it was designed to view a world unseen; when it didn’t quite work his folks they just quit, but then danny took a look inside of it, got in one little fight and his mom got scared, said “you’re movin’ with your auntie and uncle in bel air” i whistled for a cab and when it got near th

7

• when you change the language on their twitter •

anonymous asked:

genuine question: why do you not like people refering to lucio specifically as "boy"? tumblr tends to call every character boy/boi especialy since the mcelroys became popular so what is it about lucio in particular that isnt good to call him boy

The short answer: it’s because he’s black and the people doing it are largely white and there’s cultural baggage surrounding white people using the words “boy” and “son” to address black men. 

The long answer starts out with the idea of tonedeafness and a fandom phenomenon that crops up when predominately white fanbases are exposed to dimensional, compelling characters of color. The same thing happened with Star Wars and Pacific Rim and so many other diverse franchises lately. 

A lot of the time, white fans are genuinely not trying to be racist, but most of their faves up to this point have been white, and they haven’t considered that perhaps the way they write and talk about those faves would take on different implications when the characters’ race is considered. 

For instance, and I get in trouble a lot for bringing this up, but a few months ago there was a Disney AU fanart of Finn and Rey from Star Wars as Tarzan and Jane. Now, in the movie, Tarzan and Jane are both white, but in the art, the impact changes because Finn is a black man and the artist drew him as an animalistic ape-man who meets a delicate high-class British woman who “civilizes” him. Obviously the Tarzan/Jane dynamic has a very VERY different meaning if Tarzan is depicted as black and Jane is depicted as white, and it is in fact racist to depict Finn that way even if it wouldn’t even be the smallest problem to draw, say, Iron Man and Pepper Potts in the same exact situation. (Also if anyone is Tarzan in that pairing, it’s Rey, but I digress)

So you get these situations where people are trying to do the stuff they always do for all characters, only their faves have mostly been white up to this point so they’ve never really had to consider the racial implications of the stuff they say and write about those characters. That’s why they draw D.Va as an infant without realizing that the infantilization of East Asian women is actually a harmful racist practice, and then when informed of this fact, instead of saying “oh shit, I didn’t know I was contributing to that! Thanks for telling me, I’ll stop doing it,” they get defensive and claim that actually it doesn’t matter if the end product is 100% identical to racism, because they didn’t intend for it to be racist, that’s not what they were trying to do.

Also, generally speaking, they don’t do the same thing to white characters. While jokes at the expense of Soldier: 76 and Zarya are usually things like “he’s old and grumpy” or “she’s really strong,” jokes about Reaper are more like “he’s got a huge dick and he’s abusive and a rapist” and jokes about D.Va are usually “she’s a dirty and mischievous subhuman creature and the white guy is like her dad.” The fact that a lot of people make all these jokes and think they’re roughly equivalent speaks to how much unconscious racism they’ve got to purge from their system. 

Alright, so now that we understand that, let’s get into a little more of why “boy” and “son” in particular are not the sort of thing you should not call Lucio. 

The first and main reason is that he’s a grown man, aged 26, but more importantly, he is a black man. Historically, the words “boy” and “son” have been used on black men for two reasons: 

  1. Because even grown black men were to be treated as childlike under white supremacy, esp. under slavery, and even after the abolition of slavery, the words “boy” and “son” are still used in order to talk down to black men. You will still frequently catch younger white people address black men older than them as “boy” or “son,” especially in a service capacity (i.e. a black waiter or employee at a store). Under slavery, the dominant white supremacist narrative was that even the smartest black people were only on the level of white children, which is obviously a complete falsehood fabricated to justify their continued subjugation by saying “they’d be lost without us.” So, by referring to black men as “boy” or “son,” that’s the message that was being communicated, that even though any given black person is grown, they’re still viewed as roughly mentally equivalent to children. 
  2. A lot of slaveowners didn’t feel it was worth it to learn the individual names of their slaves, so they would simply address them as “boy” or “son” (or “girl” or a variety of other degrading names for women) and this practice continued even after the abolition of slavery. Again, calling back to the “black waiter” situation I referred to earlier, you still sometimes see white patrons referring to black employees as “boy” or “son” in this way. For older people, they would use the terms “Auntie” and “Uncle” as a way to deny them honorific titles such as “Mister” and “Miss,” which is where we get mascots like “Aunt Jemima” and “Uncle Ben,” both of whom were derived from this practice. A similar example is how a lot of white railroad passengers wouldn’t bother to learn the names of their car’s porter and would simply call them all “George,” which again sort of demonstrates my point: the name “George” isn’t inherently racist, lots of people have that name, but to call a black guy doing their job that carries different implications even if you “didn’t mean it that way.”

So generally, there’s nothing wrong with the words “boy” or “son” most of the time, but when you address a black man this way, it carries a whole different implication. I’m not trying to condemn anyone morally or say “you’re evil if you’ve ever used these words about Lucio” or anything, but back to the beginning of this:

I am assuming you all have positive intent, that you are all well-meaning and that you are definitely not trying to be racist. Because of this, I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you when a thing you’re saying carries meanings that you maybe didn’t consider and definitely didn’t mean to imply. I know I would feel foolish and guilty if I found out something I’d been saying casually actually had a racist meaning that I wasn’t aware of, so I just want to say that if anyone reading this is (like me) a white person who’s really truly well-intentioned and doesn’t mean to be racist at all, your response here should be “oh wow, I didn’t know that Boy and Son are names you generally shouldn’t call black people, I’ll be more conscious of that in the future,” and if your response is to become defensive and try to prove that it isn’t bad because you didn’t mean it “that way,” it either means you aren’t well-intentioned and do mean to be racist OR it means you didn’t read the post. 

That being said, I’m happy to inform where I can, but I’m also not black, and a lot of black writers have explained this a lot more eloquently than me. I suggest you do some googling and research what they’ve said on the subject, because I’m sure they’ll give you a clearer picture than I possibly can. 

Pasifika culture meets pop culture.

I hate making posts like this one. I feel mean and like I’m being overly aggressive. Denying other people a good time.

But I really feel like I have to say something in this case. So lets talk about the hongi/honi, and fandom culture (particularly shipping culture).

(Image description: Pictured above is a still from James Cameron’s Avatar where two aliens are leaning in to press their noses and foreheads together. Bellow it is a photo of a Maori person and a white person engaging in a Hongi with their foreheads and noses pressed together.)

Said Hongi in New Zealand, and Honi in Hawai’i, the custom of pressing ones forehead and nose to that of another person is a traditional greeting.

It’s used widely in New Zealand in all situations. From formal events at parliament, graduation, a gathering at a marae (meetinghouse). To casual situations like visiting ones uncles, aunties, and couzies. Or welcoming an interviewee on a midday TV show.

A Hongi represents equality, trust, the sharing of ha (breath of life), the sharing of communal responsibilities and duties, belonging, respect, and conveys a welcoming spirit.

It’s considered to be somewhat like a handshake, and often accompanies a handshake.
The one thing it doesn’t imply? Romance between the participants.

Except with the greater visibility of Pasifika culture late last year and early this year (2016-2017), fandoms have been picking up on the Hongi. But the problem is I’m only seeing it depicted in ship art.

This is harmful. It’s appropriating, and divorcing it from it’s true cultural function. And it’s creating some awkward associations for people trying to participate naturally in their cultural customs.
Yes a fan artist might think “It’s just one picture.” But their one picture is one of many that are having the effect of misrepresenting and fetashizing the Hongi for use as ship fuel.

And in fact, this colonization has been in effect longer than one might think. Consider that the Honi is often translated or explained as “The Hawaiian kiss.”

So this is just a request to fan artist, to be careful, and to practice cultural sensitivity.

(Ok to reblog.)

Having a child with Newt would include…

- Even though he would make sure that you and your child are always safe, you would usually accompany him when he’d go somewhere

- Him telling your child about all his adventures and how he is one of the very few people who actually saw some of the most rarely seen creatures

- Him usually modifying the bedtime story a bit

- “… And so the prince did not kill the dragon because he realized they are very misunderstood creatures who mean no harm and need to be protected”

- Niffler loving to be around your little one, sometimes even giving some of his own treasures to them to play with for a while

- Pickett actually kind of abandoning Newt because he would simply refuse to leave your child’s side

- Aunty Queenie and uncle Jacob visiting on weekends, bringing all kinds of sweet pastries for the coffee

- Queenie and you going shopping for clothes for your child together

- You sometimes coming home to Newt and your little one deeply asleep, surrounded by drawings of all the creatures they’ll see together at some point

- The three of you sitting in front of the fire place on cozy evenings, cuddled together under a pile of pillows and blankets

- No matter what, your little family would always come first for all of you, because regardless of what would happen, you knew that you could always be sure to come home to the people who love you the most

Nessian’s Kids Headcanons

I know this is unexpected from me because I was vehemently against any pregnancies/baby faes for any of the ships in ACOWAR but I am okay with them having kids waaaaay way down the line. Anyway, I don’t remember how this happened but Sarah @nessiansmut and I came up with a few headcanons of Azriel and Elain babysitting Nessian’s kids so here we go:

  • The inner circle would do the ‘not it’ thing whenever nessian need a babysitter. no one would be able to keep those kids in line
  • Elain would volunteer as a last resort 'how bad can it be?’
  • Azriel agrees to help because Elain convinces him he could probably help keep the kids entertained with his shadows
  • one hour in they’re missing one child, one’s running around naked and another’s pulling at Azriel’s wings trying to get him to spread them wide so they can see them
  • just imagine loud curly headed children running around everywhere
  • even azriel’s shadows wouldn’t be a match for them. Elain would be frantically screaming at him to find the missing kid and he’d just be like 'I’VE GOT NOTHING! IT’S LIKED THEY DROPPED OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!’
  • I thought fae children were supposed to be rare where do they keep coming from????
    From your damn sister who apparently spends all her time “training” doing something else entirely
    Someone needs to stop them before they make a small army
  • The naked kid is pulling out all these random weapons and Elain is just horrified. “Do they not baby proof?!?” (Cass would be offended to hear that: 'that is baby proof! the blade’s shorter than 20cm!’ )
  • Azriel would be begging and pleading for Rhys to use his daemati power to convince the kids to calm down “But you’re High Lord surely you can get them to stop moving.”
  • one of the kids would be grinning really wide but his teeth have a blue glow and Az sees and he’s like 'Spit out the Syphon! Geez, how and when did you even get that?’ (SOMEONE PLEASE DRAW THIS)
  • a completely dishevelled Elain would be furiously whispering to Az “Just knock them out! Not too hard. Nobody has to know. It’s the only way to get them to sleep and we can get a break. Please”
  • Azriel trying to change diapers having to use his shadows to stop the kid from squirming around
  • 'AZ I CAN’T FLY YOU NEED TO GET HER DOWN FROM THE ROOF ASAP' 
  • one of the babies is that type of kid who just doesn’t stop asking questions. “Are your wings bigger than daddy’s? Do you sleep upside down like a bat? Why are yours blue?”
  • the only reason nessian needed a babysitter was to go to the cabin in the illyrian mountains and have sex for a few hours.  
  • Nesta: I have a meeting with the humans. Emissary business he’s coming for protection.
    Elain: *mutters under breath* the only protection he needs to provide is of the contraceptive kind
    Azriel: emissary business my ass.
  • imagine Az with a baby hanging onto his back for dear life and nibbling at his wing while he’s trying to find his pacifier “Elain it bit me” “Azriel they have names…" 
  • "PLEASE STOP CHEWING AT MY WINGS DEAR GOD ELAIN THEIR BABIES ARE CANNIBALS”
  • “I fought Hybern. Twice. I survived my brothers. This this is too much.“
  • They find a 4th kid just sitting in the kitchen completely still. they’d look outside into the living room muttering "1…2…3…” they turn and look into the kitchen “4?…” “I thought they only had 3.” “So did I.”
  • after they realise that two of them are twins Elain would be running around yelling 'WHO ARE YOU?! WHERE’S THE SECOND YOU?!’
  • Nesta then lets them know that they won’t make it home in time and they need them to babysit the kids overnight  “What do you mean you’re running late and watch them for 3 hours is now over night? What do we feed them? Do they sleep?” 
  • eventually Nesta and Cass would come back and Az would be passed out on the couch with a baby cradled in the crook of his wing on the floor, the baby’s nappy not even secured properly. Elain would be sleeping upstairs with her head on the toilet seat with two more kids sleeping in a nest of blankets in the bathtub and the fourth kid would be in the kitchen stuffing his face with marshmallows and grinning at them when they come home
  • They wouldn’t even blink, though. Cass would just pick the kid up when he makes grabby hands at him and goes 'DADA!’ and he’d be like 'Heeeey buddy… did you give auntie Elain and uncle Az a hard time?’ and the kid would nod and he’d be like 'good job!’ and fist bump his little fist. Nesta would go upstairs to wake Elain up and thank her
  • Elain would wake up and the first thing she says is  “I swear to god, Nesta if you have any more kids not even your death powers will save you from my rage” or “I’d rather be thrown in the cauldron again than babysit these monsters again.”

BONUS Headcanons:

  • Nesta and Cassian have 4 kids: the oldest is a girl, the twins and the youngest are boys
  • They name the girl after Cassian’s mother
  • the twin who always disappears has Nesta’s personality and he always just hides somewhere and reads

anonymous asked:

ok this is going to sound rude but i totally don't mean it to be, but as an asian i always get super exited when i see asian authors, so i was wondering why you chose to write a european story rather than something korean? loved it tho

Hi nonny:

I get this question a lot, so I’m going to come across as a bit short or annoyed, but it’s not about you, I promise (I don’t know you after all). 

It’s about your question.

It is a rude question, and I don’t appreciate it. Frankly, what I am and how that affects what I write is none of anyone’s business. If you want to know why I wrote Wintersong and not something Asian, I write a little about it here. And it isn’t that I don’t intend to write something Asian-inspired; I do. Why did I choose to write something European? Many things. I like Mozart. I like the German language. I like European folklore. I am pretty goth. I grew up with these things, so I know them pretty intimately. 

But I want to unpack this question a little. Why is it that women of color are expected to write or perform their own marginalizations? Do we go around asking out queer people to only write queer stories? Do we ask disabled people to only write their disability? Incidentally, I wrote my disability into Wintersong. I gave Liesl my bipolar disorder. But the praise and censure I get always stems from the most obvious marginalization I have: my face, and by extension, my ethnic background.

If you want to get into the weeds of why I didn’t write something Korean first, it’s because I’m not Korean. I am of Korean descent, yes. I am a member of the diaspora. But neither am I truly a part of the Korean-American immigrant experience. I grew up pretty privileged: my dad is white, I went to an all-girl’s private school, was part of swim and tennis clubs, etc. I had a lot of the markers of cultural whiteness, which is tied with class. My Koreanness is whitewashed, not just by my cultural privilege, but because I didn’t have access to a Korean extended family. My aunties, uncles, and cousins all live in Seoul, or some didn’t make it out of Pyongyang before the establishment of the 38th Parallel. I’ve been to Korea twice. The only Korean members of my family are my mother and my grandmother. Everyone else is white.

That cultural whiteness? It comes across to a lot of people, and it especially came across to other Koreans. There are reasons I don’t speak the language as well as I should, considering it was my milk tongue. I went to Korean school and attended Korean church for a while, but I was bullied and ostracized so badly I stopped going back when I was 9. I wasn’t bullied because my dad was white; I was bullied because I wasn’t Korean enough. I didn’t share their cultural language. I didn’t even share the same parental pressures. My mother is the one who had been pressuring me to quit my day job and become a full-time writer, not my dad. As a result, I was the outcast in every Asian group I ever tried to be a part of as a kid. Some were open about it to my face. You’re not Korean enough. Some were more insidious about it. They would deliberately choose subjects and topics about which I had no handhold, freezing me out of conversation. My friends? The theatre kids, the artist freaks, the writers. The vast majority of them? White. 

This obviously left pretty deep psychic scars. I can’t eat doughnuts, for one. They smell of Korean school and shame. But it also left me with a deep insecurity about even approaching a Korean subject in writing. Am I enough? Am I enough, am I enough, am I enough? It’s only as an adult that I’ve made Asian friends, that I’ve slowly started to find my way back to the heritage I’ve kept at arm’s length. 

I’m telling you my history, nonny, to better answer your question. But to also maybe shed a light on the effect of asking a marginalized person to perform their marginalization for you. For me, that question is fraught, and I imagine it is for a lot of other Asian writers as well. When I hear that question, all I hear is You are not enough. You are not Asian enough. You didn’t even write something Asian. You are not enough, you are not enough, you are not enough.

Gee Angus, how come Griffin lets you have so many family members?

He thinks he must have picked it up from Mavis. After all, they all care about him and take care of him just as much as they do Mavis and Mookie, so they should all be his Aunts and Uncles too, right? In spirit, anyway.

He likes the titles because after the day of Story and Song, “Madame Director” or “Miss Lup” or “Mr. Bluejeans” all feel too formal and stiff, even for him now that he knows so much about them.

So in his head he starts referring to them as Aunty Lup and Uncle Barry and Aunt Lucretia (That aunt/aunty distinction is very important, it just wouldn’t feel right the other way around.) Carey and Killian make the list too. And Kravitz, of course, by extension through Taako.

Taako, Magnus and Merle are still just Taako, Magnus and Merle because even though he calls them “sirs,” even the title of Uncle seems to formal to address them as. But he stills refers to them that way when he’s talking to his friends at school.

The first time he says it out loud to any of them, it’s him shouting “Aunty Lup!” to get her attention as she walks away. Lup freezes and stares at him for a second, and he wonders if he’s crossed some sort of boundary before she says “Holy shit, Barold did you hear that? That’s absolutely the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” And he beams.

Lucretia starts tearing up and gives him the biggest hug after he first uses it to her.

The one exception is Davenport. Angus doesn’t seem him that often once he starts traveling, but he always refers to him as “Captain Davenport, sir.” Davenport appreciates it, and it feels good to be recognized by title again.

see what fucks me up so much is daryl was upset that carol left him. he was heart broken. but he didnt raise his voice. he didnt hit her. he didnt insult her. he respects her even at their lowest. he will fight weather and kick mother nature’s ass even if they fighting. anyway, if you dont love me like daryl dixon loves carol peletier i dont want you

Dear High School Lauren,

I have so many things I want to tell you, but I’m going to start with the most urgent. Because of all the ways I’ve seen athletic stories unfold over the years, this is the No. 1 destroyer of dreams.

You’re a young woman, but the sound of the word “woman” makes you cringe. Well-meaning coaches and parents and aunties and grannies and inappropriate uncles comment on the changing bodies of girls–not yours yet but those around you. It’s coming. You know it’s coming.

You notice what happens sometimes to female athletes. She hits puberty; her times get slower or plateau. She is confused; she is working harder than ever. Clueless adults who are overly invested in her “performance” will grieve, as if her worth is based solely on PRs. This makes you scared of growing up.

Seeing girls go through this is confusing because there is a story once told to you about running: “You get out what you put in.” You’ve heard there is a direct line between effort and improvement, between wanting it more and winning. This is a “truth” written by men, based on the experience of boys and men. Your male teammates are bathing in testosterone, a dramatic performance enhancer. You will not. You are about to bathe in different hormones, hormones that, more often than not, temporarily interrupt that promised straight line of improvement. What you need are knowledgeable coaches and parents who know how to support you during this time, to let you know it is normal, to celebrate you through development, who can zoom out on the big picture, because it is at this time that many girls give up.

You’ll see girls react to a changing body in three ways: give up, ride it out, or fight against it. With 100 percent confidence, I can tell you the best choice is to ride it out. The best is yet to come.


You will go on to race at a NCAA Division I university and watch several girls do whatever it takes to fight their changing bodies. But before you choose a school, you will go on visits. You will have meals with the teams and notice they do things differently. There is the school that has “salad with dressing on the side,” the school where everyone orders “no gluten and no dairy,” the school where the girls bring their own food from home to the restaurant… Go to the school where people order a variety of things: the burger, the chicken sandwich, the salad. Go to the school where you can order french fries and do it without shame.

Go to the school where the majority of girls look athletic and healthy, with hydrated muscles, and get their periods. Listen to how they talk about themselves–and one another. Listen to what they value.

Do they value effort or performance? What do they worry about openly? Fixations on their appearance? Or do they lift one another up to be good teammates and performers? Do they value themselves and one another by time and place and weight? Or by the whole package of who they are as people?

How do they treat the teammates who are struggling physically or mentally or psychologically? Do they isolate them? Talk behind their backs? Do they have empathy and compassion? Do they call one another up?

Like it or not Lauren, you are a woman. A strong one. Your body is at some point going to become what it is meant to be, based on a long line of strong women who have survived generations in a tough world. For most of the time, and in most cultures, what is happening to your body would be celebrated with ceremony. Women are powerful beyond your imagination. You cannot reach your power by making yourself small. And yet in competitive running, you will find yourself in a world in which you feel pressure to do just that.

Let me speak to the competitive dream chaser in you now.

You can be fast and a developed woman. In fact, you can only reach your ultimate potential if you let your body go through its changes. If you get to the dips and valleys and fight your body, starve your body, attempt to outsmart it, you will suffer. You will lose your period. You will get faster at first. And then you will get injured. And injured. And injured.
Depending on the methods you used to fight your body, you may end up destroying your relationship with food and sport for years to come. You won’t go this far, but you’ll see so many of your friends and teammates do this. In your age group, the mortality rate from anorexia is 12 times higher than any other cause of death. You will see some come close.

You will see this so much, fed by reckless coaches, fed by unhealthy team culture, fed by the desire for short-term success, that it will break your heart. It will break your heart so much that it will be difficult for you to watch many of the top high school and college races after you graduate. So many young athletes will reach out to you for help. You will learn how destructive and reckless so many coaches are, and you will want to find a way to change things.


I need you to know, I PROMISE you, that the ultimate star you are chasing is further ahead than any shiny thing you see now. The way you get there is to protect your health and protect your love of the sport above all, even as you reach for the shiny goals right in front of you. You simply do not know and cannot predict your personal path, but you’ll get there. It will look different and brighter and richer and more multi-faceted the closer you get.

I need you to know, you have always been more than a runner, more than your times, more than your state championships, more than your school records. But you will get confused. You will forget. Luckily you will have teammates and family and friends who remind you. You will go on to do almost every single thing you could have dreamed of, not in the way you imagined, not on the timeline you imagined.

And when you retire from being a pro runner after 12 years, you will be surprised at what ends up being most valuable to you. Your medals will be in a box somewhere, and you’ll never look at them. Your proudest accomplishment will be a race in which you finished last because in that race you were tested more than ever and you were brave.

Finishing seventh in the entire world in the 5K and having a bronze medal in cross country brings you a smile, the same smile as winning league with your team as a freshman in high school, the same smile as breaking 5:00 in the mile for the first time. The real life-changers, the memories that make the peach fuzz on your cheeks and the hairs on your forearms stand up, those will be braiding your teammates hair in the 15-passenger van on the way to a race; a random tempo run along a sidewalk past a gas station where you felt like you were flying while home on Christmas break; descending a forest trail at camp behind your best friend with your arms outstretched in flight; running at night with someone you are falling in love with; pushing your baby in a running stroller for the first time; passing under a canopy of trees temporarily blocking the rain on a cross country course you can’t remember the name of, the sound of your feet squelching in the mud while chasing your rival.

Protect the opportunity to make memories like those for a lifetime. You’re going to be OK being all of yourself. Make sure your teammates know it too.

Love,

Lauren

—  Lauren Fleshman