#today is a proud day for India.

[jatsewasangh]

#Chandrayaan-3 #the third lunar mission of the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO) #made a soft landing on the Moon. #World victorious tricolor dear #now the moon is ours🚀🇮🇳 #India became the first country in the world to successfully reach the south polar region of the Moon. The landing of Chandrayaan-3 created #today is a proud day for India. #This historic and proud achievement is a symbol of determination #hard work and sacrifice of our scientists. #Congratulations to the countrymen and the entire ISRO team associated with Chandrayaan-3 and best wishes for the future. #ISRO #Chandrayaan3 #Chandrayaan3Landing #VikramLander #दीनबंधुसरछोटूरामधाम #JatSewaSangh

[juleswrites223]

Desi Girl

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x indian!reader

Context: Attending a desi wedding with bae

ps: No specific faceclaim, i got every image from pinterest. Desi girls need some love too and i love carlos so i thought he would be the perfect fit for this.

yourusername

yourusername shaadi (wedding) time!!

ps; not my shaadi, my sister's

tagged: carlossainz55

landonorris where's my invite

yourusername remember the time we invited you for diwali and you almost burned yourself bc YOU INSISTED TO LIGHT FIRECRACKERS WITH MY BROTHER landonorris no regrets yourusername you almost died dummy landonorris like i said no regrets carlossainz55 .... ynloversz i love how carlos is so used to their banter that he stays out of it lest he too face the wrath of y/n yncarlos tired older sister and annoying younger brother dynamic ynmylove the fact that she already has a younger brother who annoys tf outta her and now she gotta deal with lando and her lil bro mywifeyn my girl cant catch a break😭

charlesleclerc i wanted to come too...

yourusername you can come when we get married carlossainz55 what she said^^^

yummyyn they’re so in love😩😩😩

carlitoyn mother is mothering; daddy is daddying

ynwifey shes so so mommy😩

randohater yeah must be fun mooching off your millionaire bf

ynloversz oh someone hold me back im boutta get violent

mywifeyn its always these ignorant americans smh 🤦

ynmyqueen her family is hella rich and practically run almost everything in India so before hating on someone who is way richer and prettier than you, do your research cuz this is embarrassing for you.

f1wags

f1wags Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n in Jaipur, Rajasthan at her cousin sister's wedding. Both looking quite good in traditional indian outfit.

carlito55 OMG CARLOS IN A KURTA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT CARLOS IN A KURTA

carlyn MY JAW DROPPED. THEY LOOK SO GORGGGGG

Ynfanacc mother slaying as usual

yourusername

youusername with meri jaan (my life)🫶

tagged: carlossainz55

ynloversz “meri jaan”🥹

carlitoyn tell me why I’m crying

carlyn they love each other so much I’m crying

carlossainz55 tum meri jaan ho ❤️ (you are my life)

ynwifey Carlos replied in Hindi Oml I’m boutta cry

landonorris did yn help you type this or did you use google translate??😑

yourusername I may have helped a bit

carlossainz55 tu gadha hai (you’re an idiot) landonorris

yourusername now that’s all him, I’m so proud that he’s learning hindi 🥹 (btw my brother taught him that)

yourbrother roasteddd

Ynnnn55 they visited a temple together omlll

ynpyaar (pyaar means love) I literally met them today and they are even cuter and down to earth in real life.

yncarlos I love that even though both of them are really rich they’re still so down to earth which honestly makes them even more attractive

carlitoyn it’s not even just yn, but her entire family is also like that, honestly love her family, they’re such kind souls, it’s no surprise yn is too

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 with mi amor ❤️(my love)

yourusername I love you ❤️

carlossainz55 I love you more baby landonorris i see you have no shame yourusername what is our crime?? landonorris having fun without me yourusername 😐 carlossainz55 😐

yncarlos THE IT COUPLE!!!!

carlitoyn MISS MAAM YOUR OUTFIT!!!! THE HENNA ON YOUR FEET!!! THE FIRST PIC SO CUTE IM GONNA PASS OUT

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

ynwifey THEM DANCING IS SO ADORABLE

carlossainz55 posted a story

caption: everyone is tired 🫨

yourusername

caption: 🥳🥳

yourusername

caption: Congratulations didi (older sister) and jiju (brother in law)

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 fun couple of days with mi amor

tagged: yourusername

yourusername carlos drank so much chai, he has become a certified indian now🫡

carlossainz55 mazaa aaya (had fun) yourusername Im glad 😘

landonorris better get an invite to y'all's wedding

yourusername of course lando carlossainz55 could be any day now so you better check your mail ynloversz WHAT

carlitoyn always eating with the looks queen 😍

f1wags you guys are a beautiful couple truly ❤️

comments have been limited on this post...

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author's note: Y'all would not believe how much i enjoyed this. Ive been super inactive because ive been super busy with stuff plus with not wanting to write but hopefully im back and will be writing more stuff, a lot F1 related bc im into F1 rn.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula one imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc

[srbachchan]

DAY 5667

Jalsa, Mumbai Aug 23, 2023 Wed 9:32 PM

For far too long when India was referred to , it was spoken of as 3rd World Country .. and I hated it .. TODAY I AM PROUD TO SAY , INDIA IS 1ST WORLD .. in more ways than one .. भारत माता की जय ! 🇮🇳 वन्दे मातरम् ! 🇮🇳

[thatchaoticdesigirl]

2023 World Cup Final India vs Australia

I was not there in 2003. My parents were.

Today as we switched on the TV to see a stadium filled with blue, I noticed the small smile on their faces. I will never understand that feeling of loss from 2003 but I do understand 2023.

World Cup is not about those 6 hours in that 22 yard pitch with 22 men fighting over a title. It never was. It's always about those hundreds of people supporting them. From coaches, physicians to that miniscule person finishing the seams of the ball. It's about those screams, whichever team it may be. It's about the adrenaline of the crowd, the smell of sweat in the air and the glimmer of hope in their eyes. It's about the sheer happiness. For once people forget about the problems to see some boys play with a bat and a ball and escape the real world.

I don't know about australia. I haven't been there nor have seen their reaction to this World Cup final. I can only presume it's not much different from those sights in Ahmedabad. But I do know my people. It unites them and there's nothing that makes me more happy than to see everyone on the same side.

Today the Indian team will not play for a title for which they have waited 12 years. They will play for that rickshaw driver saving up his whole weeks earnings to buy a good meal on the day of the finals. For that person standing outside a retail shop because they don't have TV at home. For that associate who has taken a leave even after the HR did not grant it. For that student who has looked up from their books towards the TV which had not been switched on for months.

And I think they know that. And I think they also know that even if they lost, they will have succeeded in providing a 6 hr escape to a country of millions. And I think it's wonderful.

Go team India! We are proud of you!

#worldcup2023 #world cup cricket #team india #viratkohli #rohit sharma #world cup #cricket world cup 2023 #finals #wc23 #wc 2023 finals #desiblr #desi blog #indian cricket team

[yesloulou]

pleaseee sort all drivers, i am here for this crossover!

thank u for this ask i had so much fun i acc made a lil graph for it lol

first of all. daniel is a slytherin 100%!!! see tags on this post:

max -> hufflepuff: he's hard working (training in the rain) he's patient (waiting all those yrs at rb for a winning car) he's loyal (actually said he'll retire at rbr) and he's extremely fair (ad 22 when he refused to block charles to help checo his teammate get p2 in wdc)

(my chirlie mutual started hate shipping lestappen after this lol)

checo -> hufflepuff:the fact that his loyalty still lies with force india/racing point to this day... also the fact that he's able to maintain a surprisingly good relationship w daniel even though every day 20730847 articles come out talking about daniel taking his seat?? (according to c horner max and checo actually get on better when daniel is there). i feel like this is bc checo is a compassionate person (he had been in daniel's shoes in 2020) and he sees that it's fair daniel will ofc take the chance if he's able to get his old rb seat back.

charles -> slytherin: 1. the ambition of envisioning himself driving for ferrari since he was like a fetus 2. the being comfortable with lying for the greater good 3. the following jules his god father who was a first gen FDA driver pretty much step by step (heritage) 4. and the resourcefulness of getting himself endorsed by the Todt's at age 14.. that mouse is a slytherin!!! in fact. did you know he's affectionately known among the italian tifosi as 'viperella 🐍'? plz refer this brilliant scholarship by @dhufflebee.

carlos -> hufflepuff: when he said 'i was very good i was very fast today' with barely suppressed tears.... when he said his penalty was 'not deserved it is TOO SEVERE i said please please please please to wait to wait until the race is finished and speak to me'........ that was a man trembling w rage bc he was treated unfairly and his hard work was not valued

lewis -> ravenclaw: he's obviously either ravenclaw or slytherin and i think the fact that he likes to distance himself from his peers a lil bit to focus on racing puts him in the former. also whenever he's asked about things happening on the grid (daniel losing his seat, seb's retirement...) i get a feeling that he's very cordial yet doesn't get involved all that much.

george -> slytherin: you would think he has a similar family background to lando's bc of the extra posh accent he maintains and the way he dresses so well... wrong. you're actually looking at a man who values heritage more than you might think. he's ambitious and prepared and driven yet subtle about it (suffered all those years in williams for the merc oppurtinity). he's also a very prideful person imo (see: flipping vb the bird immediately after portugal 21 crash). slytherin thru and thru

fernando -> slytherin: next

lance -> ravenclaw: i can see the slytherin argument bc he comes from money but i feel like he values truths and facts more than he is prideful or unrelenting. see: fact checking max over 180 cm height (where the iconic 'he claims that?' came from). see also: 'ask george about my vegas tag junior win in 2012.. ask him about it.. yeah hahaha ask him about it...' also he has a certain calmness and resignation that comes from valuing facts and observations above else. see:

lando -> slytherin: i love him but the amount of times he whined on the radio so mcalren would team order daniel to maintain position and not fight..... the cunningness, the being comfortable with exaggerating his situations to his engineer... the benefiting from his heritage (the millions of pounds of norris money injected into mclaren).. the resourcefulness of somehow getting z brown involved with his personal brand quadrant which subsequently established mclaren and himself as a package deal... he's a slytherin. he makes fernando alonso proud.

esteban -> ravenclaw: idk esteban that well but the fact that he used to count checo's sins to every media post race back when they were teammates at racing point, then go on twitter with receipts knowing full well it wouldn't change a thing bc checo had the sponsors he didn't... este speaks with facts and he embodies ravenclaw's signature 'resigned cynics'

(the 'perez tried to kill me 2 times!' 😭)

pierre -> gryffindor: suzuka 22 post race where he hesitated but then started talking about jules anyway ("i don't think what happened today was respectful towards jules and his family"). he got a very heavy handed penalty from the fia afterwards which to me feels retaliating. that's a very brave boy. also he is not afraid to show his temper (example) and doesn't easily back down (the alleged shouting match with, and i kid you not, adrian newey). he is very gryffindor.

yuki -> gryffindor: he's obviously passion driven, hence temper <3. also i think the fact that he and pierre became such good friends despite being teammates and having incidents on track rlly speaks for how much they trust and are loyal to each other

alex -> hufflepuff: idk alex that well but the whole concept of drs train conductor is so very hufflepuff coded. i worked hard i was patient i dragged my tractor in front of yours so you're not overtaking me. it's all fair game.

logan -> slytherin: i mean obviously this was taken right outside of their commom room

– end –

p.s. shout out to @tyrannosaurus-maxy for organizing the sort the grid polls you're truly our trend setter!!! ✨

#asks #* #hp stuff #f1 #f one #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #charles leclerc #txt

[alezangona]

Second Chances (Salaar AU)

Part 1: A Surprise Encounter

Summary: Amidst a crazy wedding season, the Mannar siblings face chance encounters that change the trajectory of their lives.

“Mam,” Bilal’s exasperated tone snaps Radha Rama out of her thoughts and she places the folder she’s holding on the desk, devoting her attention to him. 

“What’s the matter, Bilal? Did the Arodha’s want to make another change to their destination wedding because I swear to god, I’ve told them in a million different ways that I cannot get those parrots flown into the island this late in the game without proper permits.”

“No, they’re actually being reasonable this time– if you can believe it.” He lets out a huff of air as he plops down in the chair across from her. “They’ve just decided that veganism is the new trend they want to hop on. Which means they want to drag their family and friends in on it too.”

“No! No, no, no.” Radha Rama squeezes the bridge of her nose, bangles clanging as they move down her arm. “Don’t tell me… the wedding is in three days Bilal!”

“I don’t think they seem to realize that, but anyway, they want new caterers. Baachi was able to reach out to some of his contacts and draw up a contract with one of the best vegan restaurants on the island.” She lets out a small sigh and sinks back into her seat.

“If that situation is handled, then what’s the issue?”

“I was supposed to meet with the Krishnakanths today to discuss their daughter’s wedding, but I just got a call that my son is sick. I need to pick him up from school and take him to the doctor.”

“Oh.” Radha Rama turns to her computer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she observes the screen. “That’s okay Bilal, you handle that. I’ll just send… ah, yes! Varadha is free around then. He can handle it.” 

“Thank you, mam! I’m so sorry, I know how important their contract is, especially with how much power Krishnakanth holds. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t–”

“Bilal,” Radha Rama looks up at him, dark eyes filled with understanding. “I know. I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t urgent. Don’t apologize, not to me, okay? Just make sure your son is okay and we’ll handle your projects till then.” 

“You’re the best, boss.” Bilal stands, a relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t I know it.” She winks, face alight with mischief as she sends him out on his way.

~*~

Varadha’s teeth grit together when he checks his watch, a curse leaving his lips. If there was anything he was proud of, it was his ability to be punctual regardless of any hurdles in his way. He didn't know what his sister was thinking, giving him a new assignment an hour before the meeting time, when she knew he had to make his way through Khansar traffic. 

Varadha was nothing if not determined though. So his eyes scan the route on the GPS, mind rapidly putting together the different pieces of the puzzle till a picture flashes in his mind– the exit he could take, followed by the route that could get him to the meeting location as soon as possible. Ten minutes later, he’s sitting at the cafe, his laptop and documents arranged neatly on the table in front of him. 

Two minutes later, his foot taps a staccato against the brick patio, still waiting for the family to arrive. After five more minutes of sitting around hoping to catch sight of these rich bastards who don’t seem to give a fuck about other people’s time, Varadha decides it’s best to kill time by being as productive as he possibly can. He pulls out the file Radha Rama handed to him as he was running out the door and flips it open to the page that describes the bride.

Aadhya Krishnakanth. Born and brought up in the States. A doctor initially based out of New York before deciding to move to India. Opened a free clinic for patients in marginalized regions of the country. Lives in Hyderabad with her mother–

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” There’s a sudden pink blur that races through the cafe before crashing down in the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry! I always try so hard not to be late, but you have to understand it’s so difficult with my schedule. There was a surgery today that ended up getting more complicated than we expected and oh god! I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, no it’s okay!” The sudden noise after an excruciating phase of silence is enough to give him whiplash, but seeing how frazzled the poor girl is softens him up like butter. “We’ve all been there. I was late too, to be honest. Stuck in traffic actually but that’s nothing compared to saving lives now that I think about it.” She smiles at him, relieved and thankful, sinking into her seat. 

“Aadhya,” she holds out a hand, grinning brightly in the way Americans tend to do. “So nice to meet you…?”

“Varadha. Is anyone else going to be joining us today?”

“Yeah! My parents weren’t able to make it, but my fiancé and f–”

“Ey, Tingari (crazy girl). Wait for me next time, will you?” A towering figure appears behind Aadhya, his arms wrapping around to pull her into a hug that is powerful enough to lift her off her chair for half a second. 

“Rey! Let me down!” She swats at him playfully, bringing out a deep and melodic laugh from the man. He does as she requests and takes a seat next to her, an arm draped casually over the back of her chair.

“Hi sir! I’m De-” The sound dies on his lips when he makes out who exactly it is sitting in front of him. “Varadha?”

“Deva?”

“You two know each other?” Aadhya looks between the two of them, confused as to why they look like they’ve seen a ghost. They don’t say anything for a second, too stunned to speak. She might’ve left it well alone if it wasn’t for the fact that she was a nosey little fucker who wanted all the details. So she digs her fingers into the side of Deva’s waist, smirking when he jumps and his attention diverts to her.

“Yeah, we were roommates in college.” Deva mumbles, rubbing his hand over his side and glaring at Aadhya. Something about that answer doesn’t seem to be what Varadha expects because his face darkens for a moment, lips pursing when he takes a second to recompose himself.

“Yeah, roommates. Anyway, today’s meeting isn’t about that. Your father wanted to hire us because of our commitment to excellence in every event that we plan. However, as a company, we prioritize creating unique experiences that are a reflection of our clients and their journey. So I usually like to start by getting an idea of what you’re looking for going forward. It seems that according to the file, you’re hoping for a big wedding?” Deva immediately scoffs at that.

“Deva–” Aadhya starts, a slight blush coating her cheeks.

“What? It’s true.” Deva looks at Varadha then. “She’d prefer a smaller wedding. As small as we can get considering her dad is stuffing the list to the brim with his entire network.”

Varadha can’t find it in him to say anything, so he looks down at the file, making note of the fact. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s digging the pen into the paper though, till the free flowing movement stops and he realizes the pen is stuck in a tiny hole. Swallowing, he pulls it out and looks back up at the couple.

“Well considering we got most of our information from your father, I’m assuming more things in this file are wrong than right?” Varadha hands over the file to the other side of the table. Deva reaches over to grab it, placing it between him and Aadhya as they lean over to read it together. Varadha’s attention catches on how their expressions almost move in synch, going from light frowns to wide-eyed looks of incredulity. “So?”

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong…” Aadhya shrugs at the piece of paper, her hunched posture a direct contradiction to her tone. 

“Pichi Pilla (crazy girl),” Deva crosses his arms over his chest and looks directly at Varadha, who can feel the world closing in on him, slowly but surely. “Look, half of this is bull. She wants a smaller wedding, something in India and not a destination abroad. She hates beaches, would probably rather burn herself alive than be caught dead dragging a trail of sand behind her. She loves food, so none of those small plates of Hors D’oeuvres that leave you feeling more hungry after taking a nibble than you were before that. Probably a big giant buffet where people can go back for fourths, that’d be ideal right?”

At that, Aadhya places her hand gently on his arm in an effort to stop him perhaps. Still, she gazes up at Deva with so much warmth, her eyes glassing over just slightly enough to let Varadha know that what Deva said mattered to her. Why he said it, mattered to her. He has to look away from the image in front of him, simply because he knows what it’s like. 

Varadha knows what it’s like to be in Aadhya’s place because that’s where he was for the longest time. If anyone knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Deva’s love and affection, it’s him. It’s no surprise that the memories of that man are etched into every fiber of his being, even after all these years.

The coal-dark eyes that would come to life when Varadha would enter a room. The warm body that would press into his from behind during movie nights on that dingy-ass college couch. The smell of burning food left abandoned on the stove as wine coated lips explored each other against thin walls.

The man who dropped to his knees, begging Varadha to forgive him when–

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Varadha says, pushing out of his chair and walking himself out the door to the cafe. The second he gets to the parking lot, he pulls out the remaining half of a cigarette he bummed from a friend the night before at a party. Smoking wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed doing. It was an occasional habit he’d picked up after college. 

Whenever Deva would feel anxious about something, he’d make his way onto their roof, taking a drag beneath the night sky. Every once in a while, Varadha would join him. More often when he knew times were tough. They’d lie there together in silence for a moment before Deva would point to different constellations and tell him the myths he heard as a child. Deva wasn’t much of a talker with other people, but when he loved people enough to let them into his small circle, conversation was something that dripped from his lips like sweet honey. Once he’d calm down, he’d turn towards Varadha, a look of pure gratitude in his eyes as his chapped lips would brush against his own. The taste of nicotine in those moments used to be so irresistible, because it became the taste of Deva.

That was all it was, to be honest. It wasn’t often that Varadha found himself in distress, but in those rare moments of weakness, the warmth of the cigarette against his lips would remind him of Deva. For some time, it would be as if they were still together, the mistakes of the past erased. 

Yet, when the cigarette touches his lips today, it leaves behind a bitter taste. He scoffs as he lets out a puff, scraping his shoes against the ground. Why wouldn’t it? The man he’s in love with, even after all these years, is about to get married to a beautiful, kind, caring woman. His stomach churns uneasily and he gives up, too tired to try and process the day beyond the fact that the man he loves isn’t his anymore. Hasn’t been for a while now.

“Let me have a drag?” Varadha freezes, finger that was about to drop the cigarette tightening around it and passing it along to Deva’s waiting hand without further thought. “Thanks, ra.”

“Should you be smoking at this age? It kills you know?” Deva leans against the car, lips quirking up and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at Varadha’s hypocrisy. “I smoke occasionally, I don’t count. You probably do it on a daily basis.” 

“Careful, Varadha. You don’t want me thinking you actually care do you?”

“Of course I care!” Varadha pauses, looking to his feet. “You’ve got a nice girl in there. Least you can do is make it to your wedding alive.” Deva’s eyes dig into Varadha’s profile and he can feel his skin rising uncomfortably. “What’s with all the staring?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, B- Varadha. I’m soaking up as much as I can before you go.” He flicks the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before speaking again. “As for the girl, we’re not together. She’s just a friend.”

Varadha should be embarrassed by the immediate relief he feels at the statement. The churning pit in his stomach disappears in seconds as he takes a moment to really observe the man standing across from him. If it was possible, he was more handsome now than all those years ago. His lanky frame that used to be hidden behind drowning fabrics has now filled out deliciously, the protruding muscles emphasized by the various textured clothing that wrap snugly around him. His wild mane that would stick out in every direction, frizzing out during the humid months, is now styled to perfection with every curl staying in place. His once clean shaven face is now painted with a dark beard that makes him look less like the boy next door and more like a rugged stranger that Varadha wouldn’t mind running into during a night out. The tattoo wrapping around Deva’s arm further emphasizes that particular fantasy of his. 

Was it pathetic how in love with him he still was? If Radha Rama was here with him, she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. 

“What about her fiancé?” 

“He’s running late. His flight’s coming in from L.A. today. I just wanted to hop along because I knew if she was alone she’d say yes to all the shit her dad had laid out for her.” Deva lights another cigarette he pulls out of his pocket, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before he lets out a puff of air that fades into the afternoon breeze.

“Is that why you’re so stressed?” Varadha leans against the car as well, a couple of inches away from Deva. The hairs on his body stay on edge, aware of the electrical pulse that beats between them. He tries not to let that distract him. 

“Please, I can handle Krishnakanth.” Deva passes the cigarette back to Varadha, who forces himself not to think about the fact that Deva’s lips were wrapped against the paper just seconds ago. He fails miserably. “He doesn’t mean any harm really. He’s a good man who just wants to see his daughter taken care of and she hasn’t met anyone she’s fallen for yet. So, why not say yes to marriage to make her family happy?” 

“What about her? Will she be happy?” The look Deva gives him is enough for Varadha to understand and he keeps quiet, not knowing what else to say. 

“Meeting you today was a surprise.” Deva offers and Varadha takes greedily. 

“For me as well.” He admits, fingers coming up to play with his watch. 

“You look good Varadha. You look happy.” 

“Well… that’s open to interpretation.”

“You’re not happy?” Deva crushes the cigarette against the ground, rigidity taking over his body once more. 

“I’m doing well, Deva. That should be enough right?” 

“Not for me. It shouldn’t be for you either. What’s wrong Varadha? What’s missing?” Deva steps closer to him, the scent of his cologne surrounding Varadha in an intoxicating cloud. Maybe that’s what allows for him to let his guard down.

“You,” the word passes uninterrupted from his lips. “You’re missing from my life and I’ve wanted you back every day since–”

Deva takes a step back, snapping Varadha out of his daze. The broken expression on his face makes Varadha feel like an absolute asshole.

“Shit, Deva. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“I left that day because you asked me to. Not because I wanted to.” Varadha sucks in a sharp breath at the admission, mouth falling shut. 

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, especially after all this time. Just because I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean the same applies to you.” Varadha looks away, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t owe me anything, Deva. Not after everything, but I need you to know that I regret what I did back then. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish that it played out differently because then maybe…” He swallows, stopping the words in his throat. The images play in his mind though, of an intimate wedding, a beautiful house on the edge of the river, a small child’s laugh echoing through the property. 

“Yeah, well… I wish it played out differently too.” Deva takes in a deep breath, his gaze resting on the horizon. “I haven’t gotten over you either.”

“Oh?”

“So, where does that leave us? Are we just going to get that off our chests and never see each other again? Because I’m getting old, Varadha. I don’t think I have energy to wait anymore.” Deva hangs his head, hands tucked into his pockets.

Varadha can’t help but to think of how his life passed by in a blink of an eye over the past two decades. A lifetime of memories that felt as if they hadn't been experienced, not in the way they were meant to. All the moments of joy and pride, sadness and pain, nothing more than fleeting emotions that refused to ground themselves into the core of his very being. When he’d lie in bed at night, desperately trying to find a reason for this ache, Deva’s name would echo through his mind and he’d wonder how he could’ve ever been blind to it before. 

Why did he ever let that man go?

“I won’t make you wait, not this time.” Varadha’s hand intertwines with Deva’s, touch as gentle as a feather brushing against glass. “Let’s start over?”

~*~

6 Months Later

Varadha makes deliberate cuts into the meat in front of him, trying hard to clear out any remaining bones so the previous week’s episode doesn’t unfold a second time. Sure he and his sister had their fair share of fights, but nothing drastic enough where we wanted to murder her through way of choking on a bone. 

“Bujji?” The call comes simultaneously with the thud of the front door closing. 

“In the kitchen.” Varadha replies, refusing to break his concentration. 

“Here’s the sauce you asked for. They didn’t have the brand you usually get, but this seemed like it’d be good too.” Deva sets the glass container next to Varadha, leaning in to place a quick peck against his cheek. Varadha hears a sound of disgust from behind him and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You make a fuss now, but the second I put down the food, you’re the first to gobble it up.” 

“You see how gross uncooked meat is right? Your chopping skills don't help the image either.” 

“Rey–”Varadha turns, holding the knife threateningly towards Deva.

“Calm down, Kick Buttowski. Get back to work and look out for any bones. I’m not about to lose my favorite Mannar sibling to something smaller than a lima bean again.”

“Don’t let Baachi hear you say that. It’ll break his heart.”

“I’m sure it will. After all, we’re attached at the hip, the two of us.” Deva chuckles as he opens up a bottle of wine for them. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to impress that kid. He’ll just hate me for the rest of his life.”

“He doesn’t hate you!” Varadha defends instantly, putting down his knife now that he was finished with his thorough inspection. 

“The bruise from when he chucked a volleyball at my head last week begs to differ.” Varadha washes his hands meticulously before heading over to Deva and pulling him down to place a lingering kiss on his left temple, where the remnants of a pretty terrible bruise were finally starting to fade. 

“You have a point, but he does it out of love. I swear.” Deva shakes his head at the comment before handing Varadha a glass of wine.

“No, me putting up with his murderous tendencies is what’s done out of love.” Deva whips out his phone and taps against the screen. A soft Hindi melody plays from the speakers and Varadha smiles at his boyfriend at the gesture. “But I can put up with that till death as long as you keep kissing all the wounds better.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” Varadha complains, but there’s no malice behind it. Just the light hearted tone that comes from being in love with an unbelievably sweet idiot. So he grabs at Deva’s shirt and tugs him in closer for a deep kiss. A small moan escapes his throat when he tastes his favorite wine lingering on Deva’s lips. The various notes of fruit, spices, and coco dust intermingle seamlessly into the unique flavor that belongs to Deva, and Varadha can’t possibly get enough. His fingers tangle into the taller man’s hair, pushing off the ground to wrap his legs around Deva’s waist. A grunt of surprise leaves Deva’s lips, but he’s quick to catch on to Varadha and move towards the counter. Placing Varadha down gives him more leeway than before, so he digs his ankles into the small of Deva’s back, pulling him closer to gain more access to his mouth. 

“Rey,” Deva groans as he forces himself to pull away. “God stop teasing me. We have guests coming over soon.”

“They can wait.” Varadha’s teeth catch against the bottom of his earlobe, nipping playfully. “They’ll understand that a chef deserves his kiss.” 

“I don’t know that chef is the right word when all that’s sitting out right now is a lump of meat.”

“Whyyyyy!” Varadha whines as he pulls away from his hot boyfriend. “Why do you do this to me? What’s the point of having a sexy boyfriend if I can’t make out with him whenever I want.” 

“You can still ogle me.” Deva winks at him. “Now, stop pouting and get to cooking. We have the rest of the night once they leave.”

“It would take a S.W.A.T. team to evacuate them out of this apartment post dinner. The second Aadhya whips out the cards, everyone’s going to settle in for a round of poker and before we know it, she’ll have us drowning in debt.”

“Drowning you in debt. The rest of us actually win every once in a while.” Deva comments, making his way into Varadha’s room to change. 

Varadha spends the next hour quickly shuffling through the kitchen and preparing the feast, while Deva tidies up around the apartment and sets up the dining table. They idly exchange stories from their day, where Deva speaks of his cute Kindergarteners who gifted him a paper crown that was more glue than paper at this point, while Varadha complains about how billionaires shouldn’t be allowed to get married because it is quite frankly impossible (potentially unethical) to bring in a whole herd of elephants just so the celebrity guests could make a grad entrance to the reception. Which would pale in comparison when the newlyweds would enter on the backs of lions. That idea was vetoed pretty quickly by him and his sister, thank god. 

“Ey, Macha!” Aadhya bustles in just as they finish getting ready, a tray of brownies in hand. “This is about to be the best dessert of your lives! Crumb coffee cake brownies, made by yours truly.” 

“There were supposed to be two trays, but I downed one on the way here!” Radha Rama shouts from near the entryway. A wide smile settles on Aadhya’s face.

“Seal of approval from the best Mannar sibling!” Aadhya declares happily as she grabs herself a hard cider from their fridge. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Varadha frowns in his sister’s direction. “What’s so special about you besides an undiagnosed sugar addiction?” 

“I’m the one who’s kept this circus afloat for years, kid. Show some respect!” Radha Rama smirks as she pushes past her brother, making her way over to Aadhya and wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Don’t take it too seriously, Bujji.” Deva laughs leaning against the counter. “Our Tingari Pilla is just too in love with her girlfriend to see things objectively.” 

“It’s not just her.” Baachi comes stomping into the apartment, carrying a heaving box of decorations that he plops unceremoniously to the ground. “Considering they’ve been using me as a pack mule for this wedding, the least you can do is declare me the best Mannar sibling instead of tucking tail and following my brother around like a lost puppy.”

In the blink of an eye, the siblings start bickering, bringing up every moment from the past in an effort to one up each other. Deva and Aadhya choose to sit back silently, watching the event play out in front of them. 

“We’ll get to dinner soon, right?” Aadhya asks, anxiously gazing at the clock.

“Yeah… as soon as your girlfriend stops trying to rip my boyfriend to shreds with that pillow?” Deva’s brow furrows as he tries to determine when exactly the physical fight broke out.

“I’m going to be honest Deva. I think tonight’s the night we confess to them.”

“Confess what?”

“You know? That there’s no superior Mannar sibling because all of them are certifiably insane?” 

“And that we’re the angels for putting up with them?”

“Mhm. Exactly!” Aadhya places down her cider and makes her way into the sibling’s circle to drag Radha Rama out by the arm. “Food first, fighting later. I refuse to eat cold lasagna again, Babe.”

They spend the rest of the night eating, drinking, and playing poker. Varadha loses every round and at some point, he gives up and leans against Deva’s side instead, inadvertently becoming a part of his team. It’s something he realizes he should do more often because he likes the feeling of winning every once in a while, even if it was his boyfriend doing most of the work. 

By the time everyone leaves, Varadha can barely keep his eyes open. He leans his forehead against the door, eyes closed as he allows the silence to envelop him.

“Rey, come to bed.” Deva places a hand on his shoulder to peel him off the door.

“The door is so soft though.”  Varadha slurs through wine drunk lips. 

“The bamboo pillows you brought are softer, I promise. Come on now.” 

Soon, the two of them are tangled up under Varadha’s sheets, holding each other close as they let the day finally slow down around them.

“This is getting annoying.” Varadha murmurs into Deva’s chest.

“What, family dinners? I love you Bujji, but you have to stop picking fights with your sister. We could get to eating faster for one thing.” 

“No!” Varadha shoves Deva away before pulling him back when he realizes how cold it is. “No, you asshole. I meant having to work around our schedules to see each other recently.”

“Oh, that.” Deva hums and settles closer to Varadha. “I’ve been trying to find apartments closer to this side of the city. I think that could fix the scheduling conflict a little.” 

“Rent in Pathran is abhorrent, Bangarm.” 

“So? What’s your solution?”

“Move in with me?”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Deva places a peck on Varadha’s head, chuckling a little.

“I’m being serious. Move in with me.” Varadha insists.

“I know, but let’s talk about this tomorrow when you’re less tipsy.” 

Varadha groans, asking the gods silently why they fated him to fall in love with an oblivious, asshole of a man. He reaches over to switch on the lights and because he was just a little annoyed with Deva, he revels when the man shields his eyes from the sudden onslaught. 

“Now you can look at me and see how serious I am when I ask this. Move in with me, Deva.” Varadha intertwines their hands together when their gazes meet. “It’s as simple as this: I’m happiest when I’m with you and I hate not being around you. I love it when you walk into the apartment, I love it when you help me cook, I love it when you help me clean. I love it when you curl up with me to watch a movie, I love it when you read next to me before bed, I love it when I see your teaching plans scattered across my desk. I even love it when you’re grading your students’ art projects and all the glitter falls onto the carpet. Nothing I do gets rid of it and I keep finding it everywhere, even in my coffee! I just love you so can we go back to being roommates? Please?” 

The way Deva flips him over onto his back and devours him is answer enough.

#salaar #varadeva #devaratha raisaar #varadha rajamannar #salaar fic #salaar fanfic #khansar #aadhya krishnakanth #radha rama mannar #ramaadhya #ramaadhya fic #varadeva fic

[sixofpomegranates]

Okay I loved the Eddie Munson one shot! Do you think that maybe we can get one with a metalhead reader too? Maybe angst cuz she thinks Eddie's into Chrissy the cheerleader but hes really into her..?

I love the cheerleader trope.. But I'm a metalhead and I can't really relate to it 😅

Love you and your work! Keep it up sweetheart 💕

☠︎ 𝙳𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 ☠︎ -𝙴.𝙼.

⚡︎{Eddie’s Masterlist}{Requests/Feedback}{Guidlines}⚡︎

A/N: !Body, Ethnicity & Skin color Neutral! Hehehe that's my first Eddie Smut.

CW: Fluff, Angst/Comfort, Smut 18+ | !Best Friends to Lovers Trope! | Mentions of Bullying/Friends with Benefits//Underage Drinking/Eddie's Parents(abuse/neglect), Hippy Parents (y/n), Talk about PMS/Period, Drugs & selling & use of (Weed), Pining/Childhood Crush, Heartache/Crying, Fighting, massive insecure jealousy, Smut ~ Penetrative Sex (semi-public, unprotected, creampie)

*picture does not describe the looks of the reader*

Eddie Munson is my best friend. We became friends shortly after my parents and I returned to America when I was six. Until then, we'd lived in an ashram in India.

My parents raised me quite unconventional—as children in the ashram were raised. I was free to do as I wanted but was always told that I have to be ready to accept the consequences as they come. I grew up knowing right from wrong, social norms, and how to listen to my own gut rather than peer pressure.

My parents let me listen to the music I like and dress how I see fit. I like rock and metal music. I dress mostly in black, like my make-up heavy, and go to parties or get drunk and high with Eddie on the weekends.

There is no sneaking out, no lies, no fights about rules. Though most parents disagree with their method, my mother can always tell you exactly where I am, who I am with, and what I am doing. How many mothers of an eighteen-year-old can say that about themselves?

My parents also like Eddie, which is a rare one for him. When he still lived with his parents, we were neighbors, and for two weeks, he lived in my closet and under my bed – right after his mother had died, and his father started using him as a punching bag and scapegoat.

When my parents found out, they were mad. Not because I hid Eddie, making his father believe he was kidnapped, though. They were mad because I didn't tell them right away, so they could've helped earlier. They were proud of me for protecting my friend.

After talking to Eddie's father and child services, he officially lived with us for a week until his uncle Wayne took him in. That made visiting each other a longer trip with our bikes, but Eddie finally stopped being covered in bruises, and that was worth it.

Eddie is my best friend. Today, we're still as inseparable as we were when he lived under my bed at twelfth years old.

We listen to music, get high together, play Dungeons and Dragons, taught ourselves to play guitar, and when he bought Sweetheart, I bought Baby.

Eddie is my best friend.

He was my first friend and my first kiss.

He was my first love. The one love I'll never get over.

He was my first.

When I was a freshman, we'd started experimenting with each other. That was also the same year Eddie had fallen head over heels for Chrissy, and she had fallen for Jason Carver. So for him, it was obviously just two best friends fooling around, but for me...

I'd love him to love me, but I am just his friend. So I took him in all the ways he was willing to let me have him.

By now, there are no secret make-out sessions anymore, no petting. We only ever slept once with each other, losing our virginity to the other, and after that, we never did anything or spoke about it ever again.

As the years went on, Eddie collected more and more experience with all sorts of people, while I never did something in that regard again. I still spend my nights fantasizing about my best friend and the days I spend daydreaming in my classes.

I could just move on and sleep with somebody else, but that wouldn't change that I am in love with Eddie... So, where's the point?

As I walk down the hallway to my next class, I notice Chrissy Cunningham putting a little pink note into Eddie's locker, the bell rings, and I have to hurry to my seat, but what I saw nags me for the entire hour.

She never talks to Eddie. What does she want from him?

I quickly feel myself becoming irritated by the preppy cheerleader, although I know she's a nice person. She has a boyfriend. Why is she coming after Eddie all of a sudden? I need to know what's in that note.

The second the bell excuses us, I dash out of the room and to Eddie's locker. We know each other's combinations, so that's no issue for me. I search through his stuff but can't find the little note I am so sure Chrissy put in here.

"What are we looking for?" a voice whispers into my ear, and I jump, almost having a heart attack.

"Jesus. Fuck, Eddie," I exclaim, while he can't help but laugh loudly.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," he chuckles, putting some books into his locker, and taking out his lunchbox. "So, what were you looking for?"

I shrug, and he chuckles, pulling out a folded pink paper from his pocket. "Were you looking for that?" I try grabbing the paper, but he is quicker in pulling it away. "Now, aren't you just nosey today?"

"What- What did she write?" He raises his brows, amused, "Oh, so you know who this is from?"

Usually, I am not visibly jealous and am thick-skinned when it comes to Eddie and other women, but Chrissy managed to get under my skin. She is friendly and sweet; she looks like an angel, is popular...

Between sixteen and seventeen, Eddie was head over heels for her, and as much as he deserves to be happy, the thought of them together makes me want to vomit.

She is literally the only woman that ever left a deep mark on him, showing him that being himself could drive who he wanted most away from him. If they became a couple, it would be game over for me.

Chrissy would be Eddie's forever.

"Just tell me what Chrissy wrote," I demand, and he nods at my aggravation. "Okay, you little hellfire. Jeez."

With his lunchbox in his hand, he walks outside to the parking lot with me. "She wanted to meet me at my usual spot in the woods."

She wants to meet him alone... In private. My eyes snap at him, and I almost trip over my own feet. "What? Why?" He shrugs, "I assume the usual."

"Cunningham doesn't do drugs," I say, internally freaking out about all the reasons she could want to meet him alone in the woods.

The worst being to confess her feelings for him, to make a move. I am not stupid; she and Jason aren't doing well at the moment. They're not the happy preppy couple they were a few months ago.

"We don't know that," Eddie gives back, relaxed.

As we pass his van, I grab his wrist, and we stop walking. I don't know what to say, so I just say, "Please don't go meet her."

He starts frowning. "It's just business, Sweetheart."

"Can- Can you take me home?" I ask, thinking of what I can do to make him stay. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of what could happen if he meets with her.

His hand reaches up, brushing my hot cheek and resting on my forehead, checking my temperature. "Sure, you can nap in the van until I'm back."

"No, no, please now."

Practically throwing his lunchbox aside, he cradles my face in his hands and studies my pupils. "Did- did you take something from my lunchbox? I know I gave you free excess, and we agreed years ago to only smoke pot, but if that's the reason and you're not feeling good, you need to tell me."

"I didn't take anything," I answer, unable to force down my hysteria. "Just please, please, please don't meet Chrissy."

Eddie lets go of me; his face drowned in worry. "[y/n], What is going on?"

"Nothing!" I almost yell, feeling tears in my eyes. "Just please let us go home."

I try taking his hand and pulling him to the van, but he refuses. "Eddie, please," I beg, but to no use.

"You're acting so strange today... What is going on? You're never like this," he tells me, pretty face pulled into a frown.

"Like what?" I ask, and Eddie tries to force a smile on his lips. "Irrational. You're normally the cool and collected one of us. I'm the nutjob."

"I just don't want you to meet her." "Then give me a reason why not," Eddie says before asking, "Did she or her friends do or say something mean to you?"

His body tenses up in the same way it did years ago when getting into a fistfight with me. A boy had harrassed me all summer for the way I dress and then tried groping my butt. Eddie had lost it, becoming highly protective over me.

I shake my head, jealousy pouring out of me in the most toxic way I've ever experienced. "No, but- but she's stupid and preppy, and- and-"

Eddie interrupts me, shocked, "Hey, she's still a person." I ignore his interruption, repeating, "Don't go."

"You're acting so hysterical right now..." Looking around, he steps a little closer, asking me quietly, "Are- Are you on your period? Is that it? Are you in pain? Do you need something? I have some pads and tampons in the van."

As an upset sigh leaves me and I try to contain the tears stinging in my eyes, he continues, "I- I also have some spare clothes for you. I should've thought of that earlier, but you're wearing black; nobody saw anything, Sweetheart."

"I'm not on my fucking period, Munson. I- I don't want you to go because I don't like her," I groan desperately, but Eddie shakes his head. "That's not true. You don't mind Chrissy."

No, I said she's nice because you're head over heels for her and don't like me critiquing miss perfect.

"You don't know who I like and don't like," I hiss. "Our twelfth years of friendship say differently," Eddie says calmly. "Ten minutes, okay?"

I follow the few steps he takes after him. "No. Fuck, no," I exclaim, trying to stay in control over a situation out of my control. "If you go now, I won't talk to you again."

Eddie looks at me in disbelief, "You're kidding?" as I don't answer, he says hurt, "I'm not letting you manipulate me like that."

Stubbornly, I shake my head. "No. Chrissy or me."

"I'm not playing that game, [y/n]," the metalhead tells me sternly. "Whatever's going on right now, you better have calmed down when I'm back."

"You're still going to meet her?" I ask, and as he shrugs, I shrug as well. "Kay," I say, starting to walk away.

It was stupid to think I'd have a chance against perfect, sweet, lovable Chrissy.

"Where are you going?" Eddie calls after me. "Home," I bite out between jealous, heartbroken tears.

"Come back. I'll drive you." I turn around, look at him shortly, and scoff, "Go drive Chrissy home."

Before he can say another word, I put on my headphones, turn up the volume of my walkman, and go home.

*****

Now today wasn't a toxic masterpiece delivered by me at all. After a shower and faceplanting into my bed, I realized that I maybe overreacted a little.

To be fair, it fucking kills me to think of Eddie being with the girl he has longed for, for years now. He's sweet and loving. Once he loves you, he'll never let go of you. He's as fucking loyal as a dog.

And if he ends up with Chrissy, it'll always be them. I'll have to face the reality of never being more to Eddie than his best friend and watch him be happy with somebody else.

I start crying again. The last time my heart hurt this badly had been after our first time when he decided to let us become friends without benefits again and dated this metalhead chick that looked like she came straight from one of his magazines.

I cannot hold up with a woman with professional stylists that make her look like a metalhead's wet dream.

I cannot hold up with preppy, perfect Chrissy Cunningham.

Those are the women he wants. I'm simply not it.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Eddie suddenly coos, sitting down next to me on my Black Sabbath sheets.

I hadn't noticed him coming in, but he also roams my home as though it is his own. "Go away," I mumble, trying to wipe my tears away without him seeing.

He sighs, making himself comfortable and simply pulling me into his lap. "What's going on, [y/n]?" "Nothing," I whimper, losing all self-respect as I bury my face in his chest and inhale his scent.

"You picked a fight with me," he says, still confused about my irrational behavior but also holding me tight since it worries him. "We don't fight."

That's true; we don't. Never have had any reason to. Sometimes we bicker, but I know I shot way over the target today.

"What did Chrissy want?" I ask as his thumb dries my tears, and he rocks us back and forth a little.

"You won't believe it, but it was drugs," he chuckles, and I physically relax in his arms.

I overreacted. There is no reality I have to face, and we could still happen in my fantasy. Chrissy isn't going to take Eddie away from me.

"Nothing else?" I ask, able to look at him without crying.

He shakes his head. "Nope. But she is definitely not as sweet and innocent as she pretends to be," he chuckles. "She wants the hard stuff, so we're meeting after the game tonight, and I'll take her back to my place to get high."

I feel dizzy from the verbal whiplash I just received. Within a second, I sit on the other side of my bed, looking at Eddie and exclaiming, "What?"

Looking at me confused, he answered,  "That's where my stash is, and she has nobody to watch her, so I offered-"

I shake my head, interrupting him. "Go." "What?" "Get out of my room," I repeat, feeling anxiety starting to make me sick.

Situation already forced me to be realistic today as Eddie chose her instead of me, as I forced him to. There will never be anything between us. Eddie will be himself around Chrissy when they're alone, she'll see how sweet and amazing he is, and I'll be fucked.

"Sweetheart-" The nickname burns in my lungs as he'll never mean it the way I want him to. "Don't call me that. Go away, and fucking leave me alone," I cry, wrapping my arms around myself.

Eddie nods, getting up from my bed. "Okay... I- I'm gonna pick you up later for the campaign." I crawl up to my pillows, rolling into a ball. "I'm not going."

He looks at me, confused. "What? But- But the cult of Vecna and-" Hugging one of my pillows, I whimper, "I don't care. Just invite Chrissy."

Eddie walks to my bedroom door, holding the doorknob as he says, "But I don't want her there; I want you. Look, I- I don't know what I did, or what Chrissy did... But please don't be mad at me."

The sadness in his voice hurts me. It isn't his fault that I love him, and his feelings lie elsewhere. But I'm in pain, pain I caused myself, and the cure can only ever come to me in a fever dream.

As Eddie leaves, I begin crying again. I will ruin everything between us if I continue like this. I don't even like the person I was today. I don't tear other women down; I don't use Eddie's affection for me as a bargaining chip...

When my mother comes home from the meditation class she gives once a week, she finds me crying in my bedroom. As I said, there are no secrets between us, so I bawl my eyes out and tell her about today.

"Honey, I hate telling you this, but if loving Eddie turns you into a person you don't like or even recognize... maybe it's better to come clean about your feelings and, if necessary, let him go," she sighs

"Don't wanna lose him," I say as she begins massaging my neck, stiff from all the anxiety I felt today.

"I think it's better to risk and lose him than end up losing yourself and hating what remains of you."

I don't answer because I hate that she's right. Despite my metalhead appearance and all the cliches associated with it, I am balanced. I am friendly, calm, and rarely angry.

Today I was somebody I don't want to be. I don't want my feelings for Eddie turning me into this person forever.

Maybe it is better to let him go...

*****

I wait outside the school until the Hellfire Club meeting ends. When everyone except Eddie has left, I walk into the drama class's prop room that doubles as the Hellfire Club's room.

"Hi," I say gently, staying at the door and watching Eddie clean up. We usually do it together and then go for fast food.

Eddie turns to me and, although surprised, also answers with a soft voice, "Hey."

I came up with a plan at home, and though I feel like every bone in my body is getting broken, I have to follow through with it.

I'll confess my feelings. I will take Eddie's answer of how he only ever saw me as his friend, and then I'll leave this friendship in the past.

There is no logical reason to continue hurting myself and Eddie with my aching heart.

"How did it go?" I ask, stepping closer and helping collect his notes. He smiles sweetly, "They defeated Vecna. Wish you would've been there. It was so cool."

"I'm sorry for today. I- I wasn't..." "What was the reason?" he interrupts me. "I- I just want to understand what freaked you out so much."

"I- I- It's... I don't know," I chicken out, unable to finally bite the bullet and speak up.

Like he can see my internal struggle, Eddie lifts one of his dice. "You know what that is?" "A D20," I reply, looking at the twenty-sided ember-colored dice in his hand.

He shakes his head. "Uh-uh. It's a dice of truth. If I roll it and it shows any number over 10... You'll have to tell me the truth."

As I shake my head, too scared of the dice forcing me to speak, he changes his offer, "Everything above 15. That's a 75% chance we'll just forget today and move on like nothing happened."

"That was some quick math for someone hating it so much," I giggle, hiding that this is the ideal way for me to chicken out. "Okay."

"Do you want me to roll it?" Eddie asks, and I nod.

I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in karma due to my parents, but destiny is bullshit. Yet, the dice lands on twenty.

Only a 25% chance, and the 20 still looks at me, laughing triumphantly.

Eddie grins at that, the boyish grin I've always been so smitten with. He leans against the desk, crossing his arms and waiting for my answer.

For the truth of why I was acting so strange today.

"I- I just don't understand why you want to be with Chrissy when..." I bite my lip, taking a deep breath. "When I'm right here?"

His brown puppy eyes become wider, his smile fading. I continue to speak since I know that if I don't do it now, I never will.

"I love you, always have, and you just see me as a friend." My throat tightens, and tears run down my cheek as I exclaim, upset, "That- That just fucking hurts, okay?"

"Is that why you never dated anyone after we had sex?" he asks, frowning. I nod. "I just wanted you, but you didn't want me anymore."

At that, Eddie closes the distance between us. "Sweetheart, that wasn't the reason I stopped being with you," he says, cupping my cheeks and wiping away my tears. "Not at all."

My embarrassingly hot cheeks burn under his cool rings. "Then- Then why did you stop- Why did we stop...?"

He shakes his head. "You don't want to know..." "Yes, I do," I insist.

For a moment, he looks at me as though I am a piece of art and all of his damnation at once. His hands never leave my face, but he slowly backs me against the table.

"Nosey, nosey, little thing," he lectures me, a grin parting his lips. "Now listen here, when I was sixteen, I had a small little crush on Chrissy. Nothing more. And after you and I had sex, I never even looked at her again..."

The metalhead chuckles darkly, self-deprecating almost. "That night, my little hellfire, you fucking cursed me, put me under your spell," he says, pressing himself against me, so my body is trapped between him and the table. "You made me fall in love with you... so much."

His cheeks are tinted in soft pink, our breathing hangs heavily between us, and there is a slight stutter of nervousness in his voice. "I- I didn't want to ruin our friendship, so I just- just decided to never act on any of those feelings again."

A sigh sounding more like a soft moan, escapes me. "I wish you would've," I tell him, and he raises his brows. "Yeah?" he asks tauntingly, and I nod, making him chuckle, "Me too."

Eddies face comes closer, replacing one of his hands as it moves to my waist. I can feel his lips against my skin, his warm breath tickling me and making me lose sanity.

"P-Please..." I whimper, unsure what else to say but willing to say whatever he wants as long as it makes him stay this close.

"You know," he whispers, "All I could think of whenever I fucked somebody over the years were those little whimpers and moans of yours."

His low voice has me become a puddle in his hands. I feel myself becoming desperate for his touch as he confesses to me, "They haunted me, Sweetheart. It was like I needed to imagine them to even come."

All these years, it nagged on me that I would never be one of the women he dated or slept with, never be what he wanted, but Eddie had to think of me when he was with them.

He presses his pelvis against me, letting me feel the erection hiding in his ripped jeans. My hips jolt up, moving against him in a search for friction.

"You need it that badly, baby?" he chuckles, and I nod, breathing out his name like a prayer.

Eddie helps me onto the desk, spreading my legs and stepping between them. As he does this, a cool breeze creeps under my black skirt; I am so wet I have already soaked through my panties and tights.

The hand he'd placed on my waist moves down to my butt, harshly groping it and moving me to the edge of the table. There he begins to grind his clothes hard-on against me, giving me the friction I was looking for.

"More," I demand greedily, moving myself against him. "Please, please."

Eddie grins, the hand on my cheek leading me to his lips. I sigh into the kiss, which is so soft that it takes me back to our very first kiss. Like it did years ago, his hand is shaking.

Mine move up, wrapping around his neck. I hear Eddie chuckle into the kiss, his tongue licking against my bottom lips, asking for access I am more than willing to grant him.

There is no chance I'll ever let him go. It would be like giving away my ability to breathe.

Our kiss becomes sloppy, wild, and unhinged. Both his hands now groping my butt harshly as we hump against each other like the horny teenagers we once were.

A loud moan of mine lets Eddie pull away and ask, "That feel good?"

I nod, grabbing his Hellfire Club shirt and pulling it out of his jeans. "Please, please fuck me, Eddie," I beg, brain short-circuiting as my hand comes in contact with his happy trail.

He steps back, unbuckling his pants. "Your wish is my command," he tells me in a British accent he learned for one of his campaigns' characters.

My eyes don't shy away from starting at his throbbing cock as he pulls down his jeans and boxers. "Fuck," he cusses as I reach out, pumping his length, head falling back for a second.

Grabbing the thin fabric of my tights, Eddie gives them a harsh tug, ripping them at my center. He pulls my panties aside, replacing my hand with his own, and guiding the tip of his cock along my dripping pussy.

I feel him plus against me, whining noises leaving me as he enters me with one solid thrust. "There we go," he mutters pleased as he bottoms out inside me.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, we giggle almost stupidly before kissing. Eddie thrusts himself slowly into me, moving as gently as possible to have me grow accustomed to his cock.

"Please, don't stop. Feels so good," I whimper, having him pick up the pace while clenching his jaw. "Shit, I know, baby."

I am on cloud nine as he pounds into me, crying his name out loud and not caring who might hear it. Then Eddie pushes me onto my back, dice piercing my back, the pain adding to my pleasure while he loses himself in my pussy.

Animalist growls escape him; he throws his head back, exposing the delicious vein poking out there under his skin.

I reach out for it, but Eddie grabs my wrists with one of his hands, holding them above my head. I arch my back while his nails dig into my wrists and the soft skin of my butt.

It's ethereal. The pain and the pleasure dance together to the sound of the table scratching against the floor beneath it.

I feel myself tighten around his cock, the pressure inside me evolving to something more addicting than any drug we ever tried together. "I- I'm gonna- please," I whimper, not caring for the tears running down my face.

"So close for me," Eddie praises. "Shit, you're so hot like that, spread out on the desk, only for me. Only for me to see, to love... Only for me to fuck."

His words make me clench around him. "Eddie, I-" I whimper instead of finishing my cries, the lewd wet sounds of our doing clouding my mind.

He nods, eyes looking at me softly. His hips stutter for a second before he continues the brutal rhythmical assault on my pussy. "Show me, show me how good I make you feel. Come," he encourages me firmly. "Come, baby."

Suddenly, the coil inside me snaps. My legs shake violently as I come around Eddie, my eyes rolling into the back of my head before closing entirely.

His hips stutter again, thrust harder into me while losing all of their rhythm. "Fuck. Shit, shit, shit-" he curses, interrupting himself with a groan, hot cum, claiming me as his from the inside.

Letting go of my wrists, Eddie drops to his elbows. We're panting heavily, and I involuntarily clench around him as he begins to kiss my neck.

"You're still on the pill, right?" he asks softly, his eyes fixed on mine as I open them. I nod, both is us giggling, still drunk from our orgasm high.

Eddie is the first one to collect himself. He gets up and tucks himself away before pulling my panties back into place.

After helping me to sit up, he gives me space and takes a couple of steps back. I get off the desk, legs feeling like jello.

"Can- can you hold me?" I ask carefully, not knowing where we now stand. He smiles, nodding and taking my hands. "Of course, come here."

Eddie walks us to his thrown, sitting down in it and pulling me into his lap, arms wrapping around me. I feel safe as he holds me, kissing the top of my head. This for eternity would still be too short.

"Did you mean it?" I ask, propping myself up against his chest and looking into these beautiful chocolate brown eyes I love so much.

It's a leap of faith I have to take as I know that I can no longer be his friend, especially not after this.

He nods, a lopsided smile forming on his kissable lips. "I meant everything I said. I love you."

My soul almost exits my body. I feel like I could cry from joy. I waited forever to hear these words from my best friend, and now I know they sound more beautiful than imagination has made me believe.

"Did you mean it?" Eddie asks me back, insecure. I begin smiling. "I love you too."

He brings our lips together, kissing me gently. Every bit of insecurity has left my body. Let him spend time with Chrissy if he wants, and let her get high while he watches over her.

Eddie loves deeply—always has. That's why he always hoped for something in the long-term, retreating to affairs without feelings as he couldn't find it. If he says he loves me, I'll never have to fear as though he loves forever.

As he pulls away, his eyes sparkle like never before. Giddily he asks, "I- I'm right to assume that we're- we're..." I continue his sentence, giggling, "Boyfriend and girlfriend? Bonnie and Clyde?"

"King and Queen of Hellfire Club," he states proudly, looking over the mess we made on the table.

"You wanna roll the dice to check?" I ask cheekily, and he nods, letting me turn around in his lap, grab the ember-colored D20 from before, and roll it.

"Sixteen," Eddie sighs, relieved, and I giggle. "That was so close." He shrugs. "Still counts, though."

Kissing down my cheek, jaw, and neck, he asks, "You wanna come with me when I give Chrissy her stuff? Afterward, we can take a long hot shower and spend the night cuddling."

I grab the dice again, announcing, "Four." I shrug apologetically. "Eh. Sorry. Dice said no."

Eddie promptly loses his smile. "Don't listen to the dice; it's a liar," he asserts dramatically, tossing the D20 across the table. "I'm the Dungeon Master; what I say goes."

I giggle, his stern gaze almost breaking. Pressing another kiss on his dramatic pout, I say, "Well, if that's the case, let's pack our stuff and go home."

•

•

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#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #x reader #reader insert #x female reader #fem!reader #eddie munson angst

[dailyanarchistposts]

YOUNG COMRADES,

Our country is passing through a chaos. There is mutual distrust and despair prevailing everywhere. The great leaders have lost faith in the cause and most of them no more enjoy the confidence of the masses. There is no programme and no enthusiasm among the ‘champions’ of Indian independence. There is chaos everywhere. But chaos is inevitable and a necessary phase in the course of making of a nation. It is during such critical periods that the sincerity of the workers is tested, their character built, real programme formed, and then, with a new spirit, new, hopes, new faith and enthusiasm, the work is started. Hence there is nothing to be disgusted of.

We are, however, very fortunate to find ourselves on the threshold of a new era. We no more hear the news of reaching chaos that used to be sung vastly in praise of the British bureaucracy. The historic question “Would you be governed by sword or pen”, no more lies unanswered. Those who put that question to us have themselves answered it. In the words of Lord Birkenhead, “With the sword we won India and with the sword we shall retain it.” Thanks to this candour everything is clear now. After remembering Jallianwala and Manawala outrages it looks absurd to quote that “A good government cannot be a substitute for self-government.” It is self-evident.

A word about the blessings of the British rule in India. Is it necessary to quote the whole volumes of Romesh Chandra Dutt, William Digby and Dadabhai Naoroji in evidence to prove the decline and ruin of Indian industries? Does if require any authorities to prove that India, with the richest soil and mine, is today one of the poorest, that India which could be proud of so glorious a civilisations, is today the most backward country with only 5% literacy? Do not the people know that India has to pay the largest toll of human life with the highest child death rate in the world? The epidemics like plague, cholera, influenza and such other diseases are becoming common day by day. Is it not disgraceful for us to hear again and again that we are not fit for self-government? Is it not really degrading for us, with Guru Govind Singh, Shivaji and Hari Singh as our heroes; to be told that we are incapable of defending ourselves? Alas, we have done little to prove the contrary. Did we not see our trade and commerce being crushed in its very infancy in the first effort of Guru Nanak steamship co-started by Baba Gurdit Singh in 1914; the inhuman treatment meted out to them, far away in Canada, on the way and finally, the bloody reception of those despairing, broken-hearted passengers with valleys of shots at Bajbaj, and what not? Did we not see all this? In India, where for the honour of one Dropadi, the great Mahabharat was fought, dozens of them were ravaged in 1919. They were spit at, in their naked faces. Did we not see all this? Yet, we are content with the existing order of affairs. Is this life worth living?

Does it require any revelation any revelation now to make us realise that we are enslaved and must be free? Shall we wait for an uncertain sage to make us feel that we are an oppressed people? Shall we expectantly wait for divine help or some miracle to deliver us from bondage? Do we not know the fundamental principles of liberty? “Those who want to be free, must themselves strike the blow.” Young men, awake, arise; we have slept too long!

We have appealed to the young only. Because the young bear the most inhuman tortures smilingly and face death without hesitation. Because the young bear the most inhuman tortures smilingly and face death without hesitation. Because the whole history of human progress is written with the blood of young men and young women. And because the reforms are ever made by the vigour, courage, self-sacrifice and emotional conviction of the young men who do not know enough to be afraid and who feel much more than they think.

Were it not the young men of Japan who come forth in hundreds to throw themselves in the ditches to make a dry path to Port Arthur? And Japan is today one of the foremost nations in the world. Were it not the young Polish people who fought again and again and failed, but fought again heroically throughout the last century? And today we see a free Poland. Who freed Italy from the Austrian yoke? Young Italy.

Do you know the wonders worked by the Young Turks? Do you not daily read what the young Chinese are doing? Were it not the young Russians who scarified their lives for Russians emancipation? Throughout the last century hundreds and thousands of them were exiled to Siberia for the mere distribution of socialist pamphlets or, like Dostoyevsky, for merely belonging to socialist debating society. Again and again they faced the storm of oppression. But they did not lose the courage. It were they, the young only, who fought. And everywhere the young can fight without hope, without fear and without hesitation. And we find today in the great Russia, the emancipation of the world.

While, we Indians, what are we doing? A branch of peepal tree is cut and religious feelings of the Hindus are injured. A corner of a paper idol, tazia, of the idol-breaker Mohammedans is broken, and ‘Allah’ gets enraged, who cannot be satisfied with anything less than the blood of the infidel Hindus. Man ought to be attached more importance that the animals and, yet, here in India, they break each other’s heads in the name of ‘sacred animals’. Our vision is circumscribed by…. * thinks in terms of internationalism.

There are many others among us who hide their lethargy under the garb of internationalism. Asked to serve their country they reply: “Oh Sirs, we are cosmopolitans and believe in universal brotherhood. Let us not quarrel with the British. They are our brothers.” A good idea, a beautiful phrase. But they miss its implication. The doctrine of universal brotherhood demands that the exploitation of man by man and nation be nation must be rendered impossible. Equal opportunity to all without any sort of distinction. But British rule in India is a direct negation of all these, and we shall have nothing to do with it.

A world about social servicre here. Many good men think that social service (in the narrow sense, as it is used and under stood in our country) is the panacea to all our ills and the best method of serving the country. Thus we find many ardent youth contending themselves with distributing grain among the poor and nursing the sicks all their life. These men are noble and self-denying but they cannot understand that charity cannot solve the problem of hunger and disease in India and, for that matter, in any other country.

Religious superstitions and bigotry are a great hinderance in our progress. They have proved an obstacle in our way and we must do away with them. “The thing that cannot bear free thought must perish.” There are many other such weakness which we are to overcome. The conservativeness and orthodoxy of the Hindus, extra-territorialism and fanaticism of the Mohammedans and narrow-mindedness of all the communities in general are always exploited by the foreign enemy. Young men with revolutionary zeal from all communities are required for the task.

Having achieved nothing, we are not prepared to sacrifice anything for any achievement; our leaders are fighting amongst themselves to decide what will be the share of each community in the hoped achievement. Simply to conceal their cowardice and lack of spirit of self-sacrifice, they are creating a false issue and screening the real one. These arm-chair politicians have their eyes set on the handful of bones that may be thrown to them, as they hope, by the mighty rulers. That is extremely humiliating. Those who come forth to fight the battle of liberty cannot sit and decide first that after so much sacrifices, so much achievement must be sure and so much share to be divided. Such people never make any sort of sacrifice. We want people who may be prepared to fight without hope, without fear and without hesitation, and who may be willing to die unhonoured, unwept and unsung. Without that spirit we will not be able to fight the great two-fold battle that lies before us – two-fold because of the internal foe, on the one hand, and a foreign enemy, on the other. Our real battle is against our own disabilities which are exploited by the enemy and some of our own people for their selfish motives.

Young Punjabis, the youth of other provinces are working tremendously in their respective spheres. The organisation and awakening displayed by young Bengal on February 3, should serve as an example to us. Our Punjab, despite the greatest amount of sacrifice and suffering to its credit, is discribed as a politically backward province. Why? Because, although it belong to the martial race, we are lacking in organisation and discipline; we who are proud of the ancient University of Texila, today stand badly in need of culture. And a culture requires fine literature which cannot be prepared without a common and well developed language. Alas, we have got none.

While trying to solve the above problem that faces our country, we will also have to prepare the masses to fight the greater battle that lies before us. Our political struggle ‘began just after the great War of Independence of 1857. It has passed through different phases. Along with the advent of the 20th century the British bureaucracy has adopted quite a new policy towards India. They are drawing our bourgeoisie and petty bourgeoisie into their fold by adopting the policy of concessions. Their cause is being made common. The progressive investment of British capital in India will inevitably lead to that end. In the very near future we will find that class and their great leaders having thrown their lot with the foreign rulers. Some round-table conference or any such body will end in a compromise between the two. They will no more be lions and cubs. Even without any conciliation the expected Great War of the entire people will surely thin the ranks of the so-called champions of India independence.

The future programme of preparing the country will begin with the motto: “Revolution by the masses and for the masses.” In other words, Swaraj for the 90%; Swaraj not only attained by the masses but also for the masses. This is a very difficult task. Thought our leaders have offered many suggestion, none had the courage to put forward and carry out successfully and concrete scheme of awakening the masses. Without going into details, we can safely assert that to achieve our object, thousands of our most brilliant young men, like Russian youth, will have to pass their precious lives in village and make the people understand what the Indian revolution would really mean. They must be made to realise that the revolution which is to come will mean more than a change of masters. It will, above all, mean the birth of new order of things, a new state. This is not the work of a day or a year. Decades of matchless self-sacrifice will prepare the masses for the accomplishment of that great work and only the revolutionary young men will be able to do that. A revolutionary does not necessarily mean a man of bombs and revolvers.

The task before the young is hard and their resources are scanty. A great many obstacles are likely to block their way. But the earnestness of the few but sincere can overcome them all. The young must come forth. They must see the hard and difficult path that lies before them, the great tasks they have to perform. They must remember in the heart of hearts that “success is but a chance; sacrifice a law”. Their lives might be the lives of constant failures, even more wretched than those which Guru Govind Singh had to face throughout his life. Even then they must not repent and say, “Oh, it was all an illusion.”

Young men, do not get disheartened when you find such a great battle to fight single-handed, with none to help you. You must realise your own latent strength. Rely on yourselves and success is yours. Remember the words of the great mother of James Garfield which she spoke to her son while sending him away, penniless, helpless and resourceless, to seek his fortune: “Nine times out of ten the best thing that can happen to a young man is to be thrown overboard to swim or sink for himself.” Glory to the mother who said these words and glory to those who will rely on them.

Mazzini, that oracle of Italian regeneration, once said: “All great national movements begin with unknown men of the people without influence, except for the faith and the will that counts neither time nor difficulties.” Let the boat of life weigh another time. Let it set sail in the Great Ocean, and then:

Anchor is in no stagnant shallow. Trust the wide and wonderous sea, Where the tides are fresh for ever, And the mighty currents free. There perchance, O young Columbus, Your new world of truth may be.

Do not hesitate, let not the theory of incarnation haunt your mind and break your courage. Everybody can become great if he strives. Do not forget your own martyrs. Kartar Singh was a young man. Yet, in this teens, when he came forth to serve his country, he ascended the scaffold smiling and echoing “Bande Mataram”. Bhai Balmukund and Awadh Bihari were both quite young when they gave their lives for the cause. They were from amongst you. You must try to become as sincere patriots and as ardent lovers of liberty as they were. Do not lose patience and sense at one time, and hope at another. Try to make stability and determination a second nature to yourselves.

Let then young men think independently, calmly, serenely and patiently. Let them adopt the cause of Indian independence as the sole aim of their lives. Let them stand on their own feet. They must organise themselves free from any influence and refuse to be exploited any more by the hypocrites and insincere people who have nothing in common with them and who always desert the cause at the critical juncture. In all seriousness and sincerity, let them make the triple motto of “service, suffering, sacrifice” their sole guide. Let them remember that “the making of a nation requires self-sacrifice of thousands of obscure men and women who care more for the idea of their country than for their own comfort and interest, than own lives and the lives of those who they love”.

#jallianwala bagh #india #indian anarchism #desiblr #desi #naujawan bharat sabha #bhagawati charan vohra #community building #practical anarchy #practical anarchism #anarchist society #practical #faq #anarchy faq #revolution #anarchism #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #organization #grassroots #grass roots #anarchists #libraries #leftism #social issues #economy #economics

[desi-yearning]

@desi-lgbt-fest Day-4: Ten Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

A Single Spark

TW: Homophobia

Today I'm here with a real life incident, the first one that I was reminded of as soon as I heard this theme.

It was back in 10th grade, all of us were back to offline classes after the dreadful online ones. 2 years ago, we'd been juniors who looked up to our seniors in 10th grade but now we were those seniors who were looked up to. I didn't realise this much until I finished grade-10.

My school regularly conducted sessions related to hygiene, communication etc and this time the topic was about sexual health. A well known gynaecologist was invited to take up the session for the 9th and 10th graders together. We went to the school hall, I was sitting next to my then best friend.

The gynaecologist first spoke about the importance of sexual wellbeing and how to protect ourselves from STDs etc. Soon after the topic shifted to impulsive and reckless sexual behaviours in teenagers. And that was when she began talking about how teenagers are simply thinking that they are homosexual because they have been staying with people of their same gender for a long time. How it is only because of people they are surrounded by that they think they are not straight. Not being straight is simply now a trend and a trap that young children are falling into without knowing anything. She continued to say that homosexuality doesn’t exist, it is just a misbelief and a phase. She proceeds to urge us not to fall for such things and stay away from people who suggest all this.

And by this time, I was enraged. My best friend was already out to me but I was still closeted, she knew I was an ally nevertheless. There were already rumours going around that both of us weren’t straight and that we were dating each other, so I decided not to risk anything. I controlled myself until the QnA session when I suggested to her that we go and actually question her about it. My best friend was scared, she was anxious about speaking out to everyone but I asked her to trust me with it and I assured that I’ll be the one questioning the gynaecologist and she can just sit beside me. I went forward, took a deep breath and held the mic that was given and asked her why she would simply call it a phase when people from the community are actually existing. And I stated a bunch of article numbers that came up to my mouth because I forgot what the actual one was and said some random lines about how homosexuality was legalised in India. (I mean who would know I was bluffing-) I never in my wildest dreams expected what followed. The entire hall began clapping. They haven’t done that for anyone else, not even for the so-called doctor herself. It was so loud that she had to shout and quieten everyone. It was such a proud moment for both me and my best friend but our happiness was short-lived because the response we got from the gynaecologist obviously wasn’t anything positive. It was after this that I realised how many allies are actually present among us and how their voices just aren’t loud enough to be heard.

Though the gynaecologist’s response made us feel like we went two steps back, what followed after that day was definitely 10 steps forward. Almost a year later, I spoke to a junior anonymously and she told me how that one question changed the entire trajectory of things at school. No one has ever dared to question someone about their homophobic ideas in public but we did. That was enough to begin something that won’t be dying anytime soon. Sometimes all that people need is a tiny bit of revolution, the hope towards change. It is all just a matter of a single spark.

#desilgbt #desi queer #desilgbtfest #desilgbtfest23 #dlf: day 4 #Ten steps forward two steps back #non fiction #tw: homophobia #queerphobia #actually a LOT happened concerning me and her too

[studying-w-ghostie]

19 / 11 / 2023 ; day 3

today was the definition of a bad day – nonetheless, i tried my best to maintain my work. i did Hindi tuition, and some chemistry work. i also wrote :)

today's match was devastating, but I'm proud of India nonetheless.

#light academia #studyblr #study aesthetic #studying #studying inspiration #studying inspo #studyspo #study streak! #indian studyblr #cricket #desiblr #ind vs aus

[queenpiranhadon]

Just gonna vent a bit

This past week has been extremely stressful and I’m just done.

I’m a theatre kid - I love performing - and we have a show coming up this week and preparing for that is just so draining because apparently since I’m a cat and the costume they gave me has a masquerade style cat mask with ears, I’m not allowed to wear my freaking glasses and no one realizes that I have really bad eyesight - not so bad that I can’t walk or function completely - but if you were me - you’d realize how fucking terrifying it is when the world around you is blurry and you feel like you’re going dizzy except you’re not because this is just the damn body you’re born in.

To add on to all the stress, I have to maintain my grades and it’s just so exhausting because it’s like “test!” “test!” “review!” “review!” “oh you got a 96%?” “do better! you can’t keep distracting yourself with all this spending time with friends”

Mixed with “you never leave the house - why don’t you go out with friends?” Maybe it’s because YOU DONT LET ME.

And to top it all off, my dad is leaving for India tomorrow- and he just got back from another business trip within but still far in the country.

Tomorrow is also my brother’s birthday - my dad was supposed to leave yesterday, but he changed it so he could be here for my brother’s birthday.

How sweet and caring and thoughtful of him right?

And yes, I get that my dad is a very hardworking man and I’m very proud of him and his accomplishments but he never cares. It’s always about my perfect little brother who is far from perfect if you ask me. No matter what I do it’s always “be better!” “do better!” “you’ve been given a privilege and you’re putting it to waste!” With him, it’s always “we believe in you!” “we’ll help you through this!!” “no matter what, we’ll always love you.”

His punishments for doing literally terrible things are so small, yet when my parents find out I’m not straight, they give me emotional trauma for months. The little fucker literally trashed the neighbor’s front yard with a friend on purpose and then when confronted about it, lies straight through his teeth.

But here’s the real topping to the cake - yes I do love my parents, no matter how many times we may disagree on things, they are my rock and I wouldn’t be where I am without them. But this one small thing they couldn’t do for me. My dad goes out of his way to make sure he is there for my brother’s birthday but he isn’t there for mine last year. Last year when he left for a trip, he missed my musical’s show nights - had to watch it on a stupid hard drive - and when he did, he never said a goddamn thing. No “good job, your singing and acting was great!” or “I wish I could’ve been there in person!”

And even now, he’s still doing the same goddamn thing - he’s missing the show I’m doing and doesn’t feel a single ounce of remorse. All my fucking hard work for nothing.

It just fucking sucks when others seems to get what you want, what you need so easily, when you’ve worked your entire life to experience barely a ghost of what could’ve been.

And finally today, my brother is lying on the floor of my room, refusing to leave me the fuck alone even though I’ve been annoyed all day from walking around shopping for shit and sitting through church and trying to keep a clear head even though I just really want to go home and take a long nap but I can’t because the little fucker and trashing the room I spent all week trying to keep clean and my mom won’t do a goddamn thing because “it’s your brother and he’s just playing with you.”

And at this point- I’m just done. Because no one gets it. No one ever does.

And so I say something along the lines of “You’re turning — tomorrow. When I was your age, I was working hard, and auditioning and competing and you’re here lying on the floor of your older sister’s bedroom completely useless.”

And yes I admit that was a little harsh - he started crying - but my mom’s response was what got me.

She said “never call you brother useless again. Keep your achievements to yourself, you hear me?! I have never heard you this mean to anyone before.”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what I go through every day m, trying to keep my head high and my eyes looking forward even though I can’t see anything.

She doesn’t know, my dad doesn’t know, my brother doesn’t know, heck, most of my friends don’t even know. They all just think I’m a smart girl who’s never had a problem with her position, getting to where she is in life.

They don’t know how hard I work, how hard I worked, to keep my shaky feet on the ground, to keep myself standing tall when there’s nothing to keep me up.

For those who surely don’t need to know, I’ve been crying while typing all of this, and I’m exhausted so I’m ending this here.

Sorry for unexpectedly trauma dumping - I just needed shit off of my chest.

Hope y’all are doing okay!

Lotsa love from Kae <3

[charlywrites]

Requested by anon

Request; Can i requests a sergio perez? Where it's their children's first race.

Warnings; a bunch of spanish words but they honestly don’t require a translation <3

Note: I enjoyed writing for Checo so much omg

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

When you first met Sergio, years ago, he was racing for Force India and you were simply a Formula One enjoyer who attended a Grand Prix and got lucky enough to encounter a bunch of drivers.

You weren’t necessarily a Force India fan but you liked Sergio’s driving and took the opportunity to get a picture with him- the day after, you accidentally encountered each other in the city’s streets and he asked if he could buy you a coffee or tea.

From then on, you always kept in touch and started dating only a few weeks later. While it wasn’t really serious for the first few weeks as Sergio would travel a lot for the races, it changed when he asked you to move in with him.

And here you were now, years later, going to attend your and Sergio’s daughter first race. It didn’t take long for your child to take after Sergio and develop a passion for racing. She was her dad number one fan and wanted to be like him later.

When your daughter turned five, Sergio and you found one of the best karting club for her and signed her up there. You would never forget how ecstatic she was when you told her she was going to race too.

Today was her first ever race, she had been talking about it all week but sadly Sergio wasn’t going to be able to attend the race as his busy schedule didn’t allow him to leave for the occasion.

At least, that’s what he told you and it broke your heart knowing how much he wanted to attend your daughter’s race. You promised you’d record the whole thing so he’d have a way to watch it but the two of you knew it wasn’t the same as being there.

You looked from afar your daughter listening to her instructor before the race would start when you felt arms gently wrapping around your waist and a chin resting on your shoulder, “ hola, mi amor.”

You would have broke the surprising embrace before hearing his voice if you hadn’t recognized Sergio’s perfume right away,“ Sergio? I thought you couldn’t make it in time for the race.”

“ I thought so too but after insisting, they rescheduled some stuff to give me the day off.”

“ Why didn’t you tell me when you called earlier?”

Sergio let out a chuckle before cupping your cheeks and kissing you, “ I wanted to surprise the both of you.”

“ She’s going to be thrilled to see you here!” you smiled, excited just by imagining your daughter’s reaction, you knew how disappointed she was that her dad couldn’t attend her first race, “ we should go wish her a good race before it starts.”

Sergio and you didn’t even get to your daughter that she recognized her dad, it didn’t take more than a couple of seconds for her to jump in her dad’s arms, “ papá you came to my race!”

“ I wasn’t going to miss my champ’s first race!”

“ You’re the best, papá! I’ll win for you and mamá!”

Sergio softly smiled, kissing his daughter’s forehead, “ i want you to enjoy the race and have fun, you’ll have plenty of time to win in the future.”

Your daughter vigorously nodded her head, even more excited than she had been until now since she now had her dad to support her. Sergio and you stayed with your daughter until she was called by her instructor to get ready for the race, “ bye mamá, bye papá, I love you!”

Sergio and you exchanged a smile, she was already making the two of you so proud. Getting back to the stand where you had previously been, you sat together and waited for the karting race to begin.

“ She’s growing up so much.”

You smiled at his words, it was hard to believe she was already five years old when it felt like she was born yesterday, “ the more she’s growing up and the more she’s looking like you.”

“ You think so?”

“ Baby, she has a passion for racing, wants to be a Formula 1 driver and wants to be signed at Red Bull.”

Sergio laughed as you told him about your daughter’s dreams, she definitely was her dad’s daughter, “ what can I say she’s my child.”

“ She’s literally a mini you.”

#sergio perez x reader #sergio perez imagine #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #red bull f1 #request

[lantur]

good things,

My boss at work is my mentor and role model in so many ways. I knew her for years before I started my current job a year ago, and she's been there for me constantly since I took on my role. She answers every question, helps me through every situation, advocates for me, and has helped me lead. I learn from her every day.

I turned to her for advice on whether I should pursue this MSW program, she was a reference for my application, and I asked her to review my personal statement essay.

She was so, so kind. At the end of her email, she said she was proud of my work, and most importantly, she was proud of me.

Someday after she retires, I want to tell her how much having her as a mentor has meant to me. She's helped me understand the career I want for myself during my 30+ years left in the working world, and the professional I want to be. She's inspired me on a personal level - knowing that she managed to both climb the career ladder and have children helped me realize that I can do both as well.

In another world, I would go to my mom for career advice and life advice. In another world, I would look up to my mom and see her as a personal and professional inspiration. In another world, my mom - who was a social worker in India - would have read over my personal statement, and said she was proud of my work, and proud of me.

That isn't something I can have, but I'm so grateful for having my boss in my life.

I don't know if she knows that I'm estranged from my mom - I haven't mentioned her in months - but she's very perceptive. I wonder if she knows how much her words today meant to me.

#lanturing

[rekrootinginc]

Celebrate the spirit of India with freedom and remember the sacrifices made by the heroes to free the nation. We wish our spirits to fly as high as the Indian tricolor today. Wishing all proud Indians a Happy Independence Day!

#happyindependenceday2023 #India 

[autumniswonderingaboutspring]

Okayy soo Hey guys!! My first post on tumblr here~~ I'm gonna give an introduction about my self and tell about who I am so here we go!~

🌻• I'm a teenage girl from India, who loves reading, writing, listening and telling things, whether booms or music.

🌻•I'm a proud Hindu girl who deeply loves God and is proud of her culture🧡

🌻•I can speak, write and understand Hindi, English and Gujarati well. I can just read and write Korean alphabet yet, Im learning the words and grammar.

🌻• I also have a Youtube channel! I'll drop the link in my description its called 'Purple💜💜'. Im not active on it now but I'll comeback soon, I usually upload kpop and hp edits on this.

🌻• Bestie: @pluxyrainbow

🌻• I've also been a fan of animation since childhood so I am a HUGE fan of My Little Pony and Miraculous Ladybug, and I'm getting into anime and have watched alot of Disney and Pixar's stuff.

I am halfway through Death Note and Gakeun Babysitters yet, and I have just started One Piece.

🌻• My hobbies are dancing, singing(although im not good at it yet-), drawing, reading and listening music, I enjoy playing games and sports too. I'm a just started begginer at keyboard too.

🌻• I want to become a music idol and performer when I grow so Im trying to improve my skills day by day.

🌻•Im getting into working out recently(without equipments).

🌻•MBTI: ISFJ

🌻• To describe myself as a person, I am a kind and one of a kind(pun intended lol) person, I am very loyal and have strong morals and opinion. I never judge or bitch about anyone unless they actually are a bad person.

Even though I would hate a person due to how they treated me or how they treat others, I would never go to a extreme of wishing smth really bad to a person, bc at the end of the day we're all God's kids c'mon

Lets say I'm a picky extrovert or a loud introvert because it takes me time to open up to people(due to trust issues and safety measures yk), but when I open up, I JUST DONT STOP TALKING😭😭.

🌻•I love Harry Potter and am a very big Potterhead⚡️💙.

🌻•I love listening various types of musics.

🌻•I stan some Kpop groups as well:

BTS

Twice

Enhypen

Dreamcatcher

Onewe

And almost listen to every other kpop group.

🌻•I'll upload my Harry Potter and other Kpop group's profile soon to let yall know more about it in those ascepts.

Soo that's it for today bye guys see ya!🩷

#new on tumblr #about myself #me time #bts #harry potter #anime #one piece

[scribblersobia]

Today, India launched Aditya L1 ( India's first solar space observatory) and few days ago the grand success of Chandryan 3 that made true indians proud. There were so many people who prayed for ISRO failures but, they succeeded. And, I learned that if you work hard with determination, dedication and vow to never give up on your dreams. You will succeed no matter how many haters you have; you will rise and shine one day. Just donot give up on yourself.

#Aditya L1 #chandryaan3 #ISRO #do not give up #success lessons #scribblersobia