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msbhagirathi · 28 days

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IPKKND LIVE BLOG SEASON - 1 [EPI - 3]

Cooommmeee onnnnn. Let'zzz beegggiiiinnnn.

Satvik Mishthaann Bhandaar. Khushi opens the cylinder's regulator's knob. Picks up the oil cannister, with tears glistening in her eyes.

Khushi's flashbacks of the lines that broke her heart :

i) "Mat kaho hume Amma." (Don't call me your mom.)

ii) "Payal iski sagi behen hoti tabahu aisi harkat karat?" (Had Payal been her real (blood-related) sister then would she do something like that ?")

iii) "Aaj tum saabit kar dee ho ki tum humra khoon naahi ho." (Today you have proved that you don't consider us as your own.)

iv) "Tum jaisi ladkiyon ka kya hai, ek jayega dusra phasaa lena." (This should not be a problem for girls like you, if one slips away then trap another.)

3. ANDDDDD- she lights the gas and makes jalebis. As we all get to know that stress eating and stress cooking are her outlets.

4. Sun comes up and we are in the next day. Hii Bitwa. Good morning.

5. We see Arnav, again, drowned in the horrors of his past. The head of his PR team comes and informs about the damage control but also tells his boss about his suspicions that some media people might still have managed to get hold on a few photos and videos.

6. But Bitwa is in no mood to listen. He gives him a threat, straight, of getting black-listed from the corporate market and having to spend the rest of his life in a 'kiraane ki dukan' (General store). Calm down angry young man, it's not good for your health.

7. He asks about his schedule to Rajesh (his secretary? then who was Aman? Lol. Whatever.)

8. Oh. So Bitwa eats oats(or toasts? Whatever.) for breakfast everyday. He is surprised to see channe ki roti, (orange-?) juice and fruits. He asks about the change and-

9. There comes his Di. "Hum jaante the, ki tum hume miss kar rahe hoge, chhotte." Look at his face. It's like 'not again'. Lol. Just sibling things.

10. So, Di wants her chhotte to complete her mannat and Our Bitwa has a very valid question, "Di mannat aapne maangi hai toh mujhe kyun puri karni padegi?" (Di, if you had asked for the wish then why do I have to complete it?) Lol. Just some Bitwa things.

11. I agree with Bitwa, here, Di. Why does he have to- OH OH OH I FORGOT- HE HAS TO MEET HIS WIFE THERE. HOW STUPID OF ME TO FORGET. Lol.

12. On a serious note, I hope you know the symbolization, here, Anjali, herself, called Khushi into Arnav's life, as his mannat.

13. Arnav, begrudgingly, accepts to go to the dargah for completing the wish. But. Of course. Without having the channe ki rotis, his Di made.

14. Excuse? Me? Khushi? Is? Still? Making? Jalebis? Like? What the-?

15. HAhahahahahisddifvoaidawdw. Jalebiyan ka mount everest. I am wheezing. (Jalebis' mount everest)

16. Lol. In an interview, Sanaya had mentioned that she likes all type of sweets except jalebis. I cannot help myself but focus on that thing. Babuji offers her a jalebi and Khushi is shown taking a bite, only that Sanaya did not take a bite, she just pretended to. I just cannot overlook it. Ok back to the serious-ness. Stop distracting me, okay?

17. I want to say something. I- it's so beautiful and heart touching, a father consoling his daughter but making her understand her mistake but also making her feel that whatever she did, that is to stand up against dowry system, is also A VERY RIGHT DECISION, but her way of taking matters into her hand, was also very wrong, she should have talked about this to her father. I felt so at peace. The father-daughter duo give off such a beautiful, soft and touching vibe.

18. He also consoles her for the things that Buaji said to her last night. In fact, he started the conversation with those words. Coz he knows and understands how gut wrenching it might have been to listen those harsh words.

19. The society people gather up and show their support and understanding towards Shashi babu and his family.

20. Stop making those annoying faces, Buaji.

21. Bitwa is on his way to the dargah. He asks his manager not to cancel his meeting but says will get delayed by 10-15 minutes.

22. They have reached the dargah. Khushi's first ever 'Laad Governor' makes an appearance. She talks of giving him a mouthful if she sees him ever again.

23. Did you notice this too? Arnav has changed his suit. Earlier, this morning he was wearing a grey? suit, i think and now there's a shiny black suit, with black aviators.

24. He starts walking and guess what, the cravat is back. *heart eyes*

25. Bitwa is well, Bitwa. Someone comes and tries to ward off evil eye with those peacock feathers and the way he dodges it off with making that face. Lol.

26. Payal tells Khushi to cover her head and Arnav, being an obedient jethji/jijaji, covers his head as well.

27. Is it coincidental that the first syllable of Arziyaan song starts just as Arnav enters the frame? And also the fact that the song is addressed in first person pronoun so it seems like it's been sung on Arnav's behalf.

28. "Tere derr pe jhuka hun, mitta hun, bana hun." (I have been destroyed and re-made myself (by hardships of life?) and I am bowing down at your doorstep.) This line, in fact, this whole song is made for our dear broken Arnav baby only, and only for him. I got emotional. Wow. Back to the epi.

29. Payal goes to take the niyaaz and Khushi crosses Arnav's way and her dupatta wraps up around his head. I think, he is kind of intrigued by it, coz he keeps looking at the back of that girl, in all white. Also, maybe tries to -identify?- her-what's with that unreadable expression Bitwa?

30. "Pyaas le ke aaya tha, dariya woh bhar laaya, noor ki barish mein, beeghta-sa tar aaya."

How beautifully these lines along with Arnav entering the main entrance of the dargah, have been synced together. I mean. Wow. (Click the lines to read the translation.)

31. Inside the mazhaar. Khushi, what is this behaviour? Wait for your husband.

32. I really got a few second goosebumps here. The fact that they are just a mere inches away, separated by that-wall?- tying the sacred threads, praying for their loved ones.

(Arnav, I hope so you are praying and not thinking that you are the mighty ASR and you don't need all that blessings and shit, just pray. For yourself. For your mental health, my boy. You need it. Believe me. You really do.)

33. "O ek khushboo aati thi, mein bhatakta jata tha,reshm-si maya thi, aur main takta jata tha."

Are they hinting at the telepathy that Arnav will start experiencing after a few days? Uhhuhh, foreshadowing, I see. Writers are very clever.

34. Khushi is complaining, to Khwajaji, about her meeting with 'woh'. Lol. Tell me Khushi. Who is this 'woh' here? I did not understand.

Also, Khushi says that, for the first time, she had to hide something from her babuji which means no one knows about their first meeting yet.

Khushi and her 'woh' sitting opposite to each other. One complaining while the other listening looking around with a frown in his face.

35. Do you know this fact that girls in India, after getting married, address their husband as 'woh' to every one else and even if they have to take their name, they add an extra 'ji' after it.

Did you see what I did there? Heh. I iz veri kelever.

Bitwa is looking at his wife leaving, after ranting about him.

36. Are you following her Bitwa? Do you love her already? So. Both are there, to tie their 'mannat ka tala'. Khushi prays to Khwajaji, to get her sister married to a good man, as she cannot bear to see her sad. On the contrary, look at Bitwa's face. He is doing 'all this' just for 'his Di's happiness.' And careless bitwa, instead of keeping the key in his pocket, lets it slip away from his hands. I realized that I loved the BG score here.

But, his wife Khushi will make sure he rightfully gets back his mannat ki chabi. Look at Arnav's face, when she calls out, to hand him the key. He already knows it's the same girl (the girl from that previous night).

37. He does not turn immediately. Look closely, he turns as if to gauge her reaction. Her polite-slight- smile drops as she realizes that it's her 'woh'. Khushi, still very much affected by last night's harassment, clutches her neck-line, in fear. Arnav looks at her face, already smitten tells her to 'phek do' it. (Throw away)

Turns back and leaves. Khushi realizes that he 'phir suna diya' to her. (He, again, had the last word.)

38. The BG score, that is playing, here, is basically played for Khushi every time whenever she has an idea for some thing in general or is talking to devi maiyya (i think?) or is talking to herself or is ranting about her LG or has a 'brilliant' idea to exasperate her LG and here, is giving a pep talk to herself.

39. Arnav is doing his ASR walk without disturbing anyone and Khushi is doing her 'Hum Khushi Kumari Gupta' style running, skidding, jumping and scaring everyone around her, with her chaotic run.

40. Khushi comes to a stop. Arnav notices her and stops as well. My God. How is it possible that I can literally feel her, being out of breath and not being able to get out a single word from her mouth, without breathing loudly, just after running a -what-few meters-? Lol. I love Sanaya.

41. Bitwa is like 'calm down babe, have some water and sit down first.' So, Arnav is staring at her and walking towards her, with slow and careful steps. Khushi, obviously afraid, steps away from him, trying to maintain a safe distance.

42. Screen freezes at Khushi's face and starts to fade out. *quickly pauses it* Precap. Don't like spoilers.

P.S. : I thought their argument over god and their beliefs would be in this one only. Btw, I loved Khushi's look and hair as well. Arnav's was fine. I loved loved loved babuji's scene with Khushi in the morning. I loved it. It was so soothing for Khushi, as well as, for all of us viewers too. Also, all the 'wife' and 'woh' jokes that I made for Khushi and Arnav are still not relevant, here, because of the harassment that was shown in the last one, so please don't take it seriously, I just did it to add some humor to it. Please don't take it the wrong way. Ok, bye. Have a great day/night ahead. God bless you.

Next Episode!

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my-venki-blog · 2 years

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#TDP #Galla Aruna Kumari #Comments #Political Future #latest telugu news

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whippersnappersbookworm · 10 months

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Inaidhal [Anuraga]

Collab with @harinishivaa

Arulmozhi Varman was confused with himself. He said he didn’t want Vanathi, and yet, his thoughts had been deeply sunk into her, and his worry had been for the tender heart of said maiden. Why was her heart and it’s condition so important to him? What was it about her that made him worry so much?

Was he supposed to like Samudra Kumari?

And yet, his eyes would not even wander from Vanathi? What sort of man was he?

He was annoyed with himself, but even he knew that he couldn’t deny that something about his Akka’s best friend endeared him to her in a way no one else could.

He had felt her gentle gaze on him often, but every time he turned to look, she was looking away from him. Why did she not meet his eyes? Why did she change?

Why was she not that mischievous, teasing maiden he had met at first? Does his being Ponniyin Selvar change that they had interacted so well the first time?

Why would she want that change?

Parameshvara, has he gone mad? Why is he thinking so much about this and her?

He could hear a persistent voice in the back of his head trying to tell him something, but he shut it down. Now was not the time.

Even as he pondered so, he saw Vanathi walking along the flowers, and admired the connotation. Was she not a flower herself?

‘Arulmozhi!’ He chided himself firmly. ‘Stop it.’

He forced his mind to turn to something else, something political, something that had been bothering him since Vanthiyathevan had come to Eezham with news at Thanjai.

“Ilavarase?”

Ah, a hundred years. Vanthiyar had come up to him.

“Vaarungal, Vanthiyare, (come, Vanthiyare)” he smiled briefly at his friend.

“Is everything alright?”

“It is, though I have some doubts now… Vanathi!” He called out, taking quick steps towards her, her name sounding as common to his tongue as he said Chozha Nadu. Almost as if he couldn’t bear to call her anything else.

“Ilavarase!”

She startled, her doe eyes widening as her eyes met his, the sheer gaze of them having the ability to stop Arulmozhi’s very movement. Why did she always have this effect on him?

“Vanathi, can I ask you a few questions?” he said softly, walking to stand a respectable distance from her, though he was itching to stand close to her for some reason.

“Of course, Ilavarase,” she blinked her doe eyes at him, though easily accepting his request. It was clear she was curious what he wanted to know, and he was gratified at her easy acceptance.

“Vanthiyathevar has told me of the situation at Thanjai. But he was there only for a few days. You stayed there with Akka for quite some time, based on what Akka told me. What was your experience with the Pazhavettarayars there, Vanathi?”

“They weren’t incredibly welcoming of even Akka, my Prince,” Vanathi started. “They seemed very displeased that she had suddenly chosen to visit, with her whole retinue that too. And they were probably disconcerted by the fact that Akka insisted on parading with me into Thanjai. Nandhini Devi even made a comment on it that I think she thought was to hurt me, but it didn’t have the intended effect.”

“What did she say?” he asked, curious.

“Princesses flock Pazhayarai like bees flock flowers for nectar, she said. It goes to show her intelligence that she was able to hide her real meaning with pretty words,” Vanathi said frankly. “She isn’t actually wrong, but is not the true nectar the friendship of Kundavai Akka and the guidance of Sembiyan Patti?”

“How many would view it as you do, Vanathi?” reposed Arulmozhi rhetorically, smiling when she acknowledged his words with a smile of her own, having understood what he meant.

“They do have full control, my Prince. They have made the Chakravarthy a prisoner, and even try to manipulate him with regards to you and the Pattathu Ilavarasar,” Vanathi said softly. “They tried to imply that you both are competing for the throne, but Chakravarthy got furious and asked them if they had cut the tongues that wagged such tales about you and the Crown Prince.”

Arulmozhi’s eyebrows rose in some surprise and sadness.

“So my Patta also feels this?”

“My Prince, he may be playing politics, but I believe he does really adore you. I saw his face when the news of your drowning reached us. He was broken, shattered beyond belief. He kept saying, ‘En Arulmozhi, en Chella kuzhandhai’ over and over.”

“I see.”

Arulmozhi looked distant, silently feeling the emotions and smiling mildly.

“What else, Vanathi? Have all the scrolls I sent reached Appa?”

Vanathi looked at him with something like awe and knowing, as if she had been expecting this from him.

“No my Prince,” she said, sighing. “Your dearest mother told me that the Chakravarthy wanted you and the Pattathu Ilavarasar by his side, but that the two brothers did not relay the message. She requested Akka to bring both of you back, as at this very moment, your father needs you by his side.”

Arulmozhi felt disturbed. He had to get to his father. He really did. But his brother- he felt almost disoriented.

“Is there anything else?”

“Ilavarase, they manipulated your father’s orders and made it an arrest instead of his order for you to return to his side,” she said quietly. “And I know who suggested that as well.”

“Nandhini,” Arulmozhi responded, sure and certain.

She nodded, sighing.

“She hides her intelligence behind her honestly stunning beauty,” Vanathi said frankly. “She has dropped suggestions for your Chittappa to covet the crown. She had suggested your imprisonment, and she dislikes Akka, for reasons you well know.”

Arulmozhi nodded, his eyes sparkling at how honest Vanathi was, and how her acumen was showing itself in subtle peaks, one he had felt in her but not seen till then.

“So tell me, Vanathi, how have your fainting spells been?” he teased.

“Vanished finally, my Prince,” she blushed and teased back, making him laugh.

“You stopped fainting, you talk, Vanathi, how could you hide this from me?” his tone stayed teasing and mischievous, making her laugh. The particles of the air seemed to laugh with her, showering the world with golden sparkles, and Arulmozhi was captivated, despite not realizing it.

Vandiyathevan was confused; he didn't expect to see his Uyir thozha's face getting illuminated in the presence of the Kodumbalur ilavarasi. Arulmozhi's eyes sparkled with a different kind of emotion as he continued to tease Vanathi ,who discarded her usual shy self and actively participated in the banter.

" Didn't Ponniyin Selvan say that The Ilavarasi is nothing to him then why is he behaving like this?"- Vandiyathevan wondered , he had previously seen Arulmolzhi converse with Poonkuzhali, the girl he thought he was in love with . With Samudrakumari, Ponniyin Selvan was his usual charming self , easily fluctuating between flirtations and platonic adoration . But with Vanathi , the great prince transformed into a young child who doesn't know how to behave around a woman. His behavior reminded Vallavaryan of young boys trying to catch the eye of the girl they loved with teasing and bullying.

" Was the adoration him and Samudrakumari shared was a figment of my imagination or a projection of my own desire for Kundavai?"

Vandiyathevan glanced at the pair standing in front of him lost in their own world , laughing like little childrens on a comman joke they shared , adoration visible in both their eyes as their laughter spread like music across the Vihara. Their serene countenance didn't show any sign of the storm raging inside their hearts, the small moment of happiness among the grieve tension filled atmosphere has separated them from the real tangible world and its problems.

Looking at them reminded the Vanar kulam warrior of a certain moment he shared once in a boat with his beloved, the moment where they were lost in each other's eyes without a care of the world and the rules that forces them apart.

‘Was Kundavai right all along? Is Kodambalur ilavarasi Vanathi always the one for Ponniyin selvan?’

His thoughts continued to ring in his head, as if in some divine push, when he heard the Prince laugh out loud, genuine and open, hearing something the Princess had said.

By Ishvara, had he been that wrong about the gentle Princess?

@vijayasena @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @ambidextrousarcher @celestesinsight @jukti-torko-golpo @ @rang-lo @dr-scribbler @ragkee @ @ @ @sakhiiii @harinishivaa @freeunknownwasteland @nspwriteups @willkatfanfromasia @gemsmusings @celestesinsight @sampigehoovu @balladedutempsjadis

We are finally back !!!!

#ponniyin selvan #arulmozhi #kundavai #vanathi #vandiyadevan #aditha karikalan #inaidhal

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 8 months

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ArShi SS: Crossing Boundaries

Warning: 16+, heavy themes on desire

Note: I watched the kidnapping track where they're just so desperate for each other hence this is the end result. And a little gift for the enthusiastic reaction to the Sobti interview!

(Psst, please do go over and paste your comments in the website as well!)

Chapter 1 | Imagination

The mind does not differentiate between thought and reality. If an athlete simply imagined that they were running across a field track, their mind was stimulated as if it were in reality.

Thus when Arnav woke up mid sleep, drenched in sweat, heart racing as remnants of a sinful dream faded with waking, he knew he had crossed the first boundary of whatever moral decency that existed.

Khushi in a modest red saree with a daring backless blouse with no room for a bra.

He knew that it would just take a flick of a finger to undo the blouse.

What if the saree hadn't been pinned?

He had seen the sliver of skin through the gossamer fabric.

The long lashes wet in the rain, lips quivering in confusion...

Could he assume anticipation? Damn it, he was losing his mind. Playing games with Khushi Kumari Gupta was no longer fun. At first he had foolishly thought that it was a battle of wits and he had been so entertained to put her through menial tasks, watch her intelligent mind get frustrated with the redundancy. She was close to making a mistake, to not finding a creative solution for the assignments.

It had taken him one day to realize her mind, and mouth, were as sharp as a razor.

Thus having her stand motionless, mute, with a coat all day was the masterstroke. He saw the way her eyebrows shot up when Liza hugged him, then why did it piss him further when she seemed perfectly unperturbed when Liza continued to harp praises on him. Why did he need to get her attention on him?

And since when had Arnav Singh Raizada fret over a nobody.

Fret. Arnav scoffed, he was wiser than that. Obsession was the truth. There was something about her, something that frustrated him to no end.

Because having anything with Khushi Kumari Gupta would change the fundamental outlook of his life. She valued love, marriage, commitment and would see lust in the bracket of sin.

Arnav flopped back in his bed, content with being exhausted enough to catch a few more hours of sleep.

Being attracted to Khushi Kumari Gupta would challenge his formative beliefs and there's no way he would be trading his foundation for a passing fancy.

Even in a hypothetical world, Khushi wouldn't change to fit in his life. She wouldn't ever be a safe bet.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Khushi couldn't risk fancying Arnav Singh Raizada. Fancy? Khushi sighed in defeat, twisting away in bed, unable to look at Payal's sleeping face nor Devi Maiyya.

She was bothered by her relief in staying back in Delhi. Of course staying back in the same city as Buaji meant the most, but he lived in this city too.

Something bugged her about Arnav Singh Raizada. It almost felt like if she spent another minute in his presence, something might happen.

Something that might fundamentally change Khushi Kumari Gupta.

Something for which she'd trade her strict upbringing and romantic dreams.

In the romantic novels she sneaked in at library, the term fancy felt closest. Because this couldn't be love. But it bore the symptoms of it all.

Yes, she wanted to see him again, yet run away at first sight.

Yes, he made her pulse go faster, as well as her nerves.

Yes, she had dreams where he caressed her hair in her sleep, and a reality where he'd push her buttons to the extremes.

The contradictions ruled out anything that could happen between them. But when she told she couldn't, no, wouldn't see him ever again, she wanted to stay back and look at the disaster on his face.

They had nothing, but it felt like she broke something.

Khushi closed her eyes, shivering at the wind brushing her hair across her forehead.

He stared at her, brushing the hair away. Once to see her, then again to caress her. She felt his strong hands rest on her skin as he carried her, lightweight. The sheer power in his physicality - the heat emanating from his skin or the eyes that just saw right through what she wore.

Imagination was worse than reality, Khushi concluded.

Reality gave one the excuse to state that one didn't anticipate crossing the boundary. But imagination revealed that one was yearning to cross it all along.

A/N: Let me know in the comments how you liked it. And yes this is prewritten and will be posted pretty soon unlike my other stories *cry* - Jalebi Tagging: @butaneandthebeast @shiyaravi @shaonsim @thenainitaldisaster @maansiloves @muttonthings @sapnokiduniyaisalwaysbetter @bengudill @myloveforstuff @laad-governess @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @lostafpanda @magicfeltmybloop @honeybellexox x @featheredclover @goals1024 @bigfatreader @simplycurlz @persephone-with-a-cat@sankititaliya @ijustchangedmyname @noor1025 @bitchy-bi-trash @thecharlesboyle @minpdnim @starzin8s @zaphbeeblebrox @white-thebeauty @bunnypassionsworld @scorpio-smiles @exosexosekai @whateverworks21 @chutkiandchotte (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#ipkknd #arshi #arshi ff #jalebi writes #crossing boundaries #romance time

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bijectiveandinvertible · 5 months

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Tenkai Sanzo/Snow

The coal-fired braziers warm the monastery's interior, the soot darkening the high ceilings. Tenkai Sanzo awakes just as the dawn cracks open over the mountains. A thin stream of light flows in from under the heavily shuttered windows. He blinks, eyes following the dust motes dancing in the crisp sunlight.

Within minutes, the monastery starts bustling with activity. As Tenkai adjusts the Maten scripture on his shoulder, his youkai hearing picks up the ambient noises of the junior monks cleaning the floors and preparing for the morning prayers.

One of the juniors knocks on his door. “Lord Sanzo, will be joining us for the morning prayers.”

Tenkai opens the door and comes face to face with the youkai monk.

“Lead the way.” He says and follows the junior to the prayer halls. Among the tall monks, mostly human with a few youkai, Tenkai can’t see her.

He sees her later, the living Goddess, Kumari Taruchie, when she invites him for tea on the balcony. Tenkai sits on a teakwood chair and sips the yak-milk tea sweetened with cane sugar. Its a contrast, the light cold snow and the warm tea. He looks out into the rolling valley and gorges, some still covered by snow banks, most of it gone as spring arrives.

��The last snow.” The Kumari comments.

“Yes. I shall leave next week.” He replies, eyes glancing at his older sister.

“Next month, the Gurunsh will bloom.”

“Next week, the merchants from the town will leave for Chang-an.”

“Next month the monastery will harvest the flowers and make syrup. Take some when you leave, Little Brother.”

Tenkai protests, “—Kumari.”

“— Genkai…” Taruchie argues.

Tenkai takes in his sister’s visage. Her usual dour expression is gone. Her violet eyes glitter with sadness.

“Our kind live long lives.” He says.

“Our parents did not.”

Her eyes are glassier now.

No man nor any youkai could protest.

He relents.

“Next month, there will be more merchants making their way to Chang-an.” He says.

Taruchie smiles, eyes bright.

Tenkai closes his eyes and relaxes back into his seat. Turning away from his worldly attachments. The snow has stopped. The warm sun now reflects from the budding Rhododendron bushes below, a hint of vibrant red among the unsaturated landscape.

--------------------

Written for @monthlyminekura Christmas Edition. Day 5: Snow

A/N: My H/C is that Taruchie was taken away from her parents and brother when he was a toddler. Tenkai parents then left India and went to live in China. Taruchie and Tenkai meet again once he becomes a Sanzo priest.

A/N: Gurunsh is the nepali word for Rhododendron. The flowers are often used in making syrup. Rhododendrons in full bloom are a beautiful sight to see. As an Indian I have had the oppurtunity to visit many parts of the Himalayas over the years which is one of the reasons why I love Saiyuki. The photo is taken from Google but this is what a Rhododendron forest looks like in full bloom.

#b&iwrites #fanfic #saiyuki #saiyuki ibun #monthlyminekura #monthly minekura christmas 2023 #kazuya minekura

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vizcoloration · 3 months

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[New Year 2024 Gifts #12 & #13]

Laser girl from Code:Laser (the art will be commented on the page), a game I recently played, and @arborknight/@witchbrand's Kumari.

#ViZkoro draws #other's OCs #fanarts #gift arts #arborknight #witchbrand

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 1 year

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SFW: Fluff, cuteness, comfort, interracial relationship, protective Satoru, established relationship, marriage, husband+wife, love conquers all.

⚠️WARNINGS: History, racial discrimination, racial slurs, mentions of racism, race relations, interracial marriage, foreigners, Imperialist Japan, isolationism, comfort women, Lucie Blackman, the Rape of Nanjing, rape, murder, sexual exploitation.

Prequel: Gojo Takes a Wife (also on AO3).

Footnotes on AO3

“They are disgusting.”

…

“All she wants from you is a green card.”

…

“You sellout. You married a white dog.”

…

“Wouldn't you rather date someone of your own race?”

…

Satoru took his time reading the insults underneath the enlarged black and white photographs, snorting at one couple’s caption, “Let me know if you need a bigger dick.” The portrait showed an asian man and a white woman holding hands, their faces unsmiling. How absurd. Only an insecure loser with a tiny penis would say something that stupid. He then looked to his right to see another photograph of a white woman wearing a sari next to her husband, maybe Indian or Bangladeshi, with their young son. “I hope he is born with a turban on,” it read “I hope he is born with STD's.” Okay, that one had him cringing. Yikes.

Donna Pinckley was an American photographer whose work mainly focused on racial issues within the American South. Her most famous project “Sticks and Stones” had garnered worldwide attention and had officially made its Japanese debut in Tokyo. In each photograph she would have an interracial couple stand in the center and underneath would have them write disparaging comments they had received from someone in real life. “I want the viewer to look at the portrait first and then look down and see the writing,” Pinckley explained. “I want them to see how beautiful and how much they love each other first.”

Kumari and Ichiro had already toured the gallery earlier that week and had told Hannah all about it, insisting she go. So for the last few days his wife had been begging him to take her. “It’s important we see it, Satoru,” were her exact words. “Please?”

Important? Well, how could he argue with that? Happy wife, happy life, right? He decided to take her on St. Valentine's Day, fittingly enough, but apparently he wasn’t the only one.

Satoru looked around the gallery to see the many newcomers; an Iranian man linked arm-in-arm with a Korean women, speaking to her in a mix between English and Persian; A Chinese woman and her Vietnamese girlfriend snapping a cute pic together on a bench near the drinking fountain; An elderly Japanese husband lovingly zipping his French wife’s coat, her hands painfully bent with arthritis, before they both journeyed back outside in the cold. All of them had come to see Pinckley’s work. Perhaps as a mark of solidarity.

As it were, Japan was a largely homogenous country, meaning most people formed friendships, worked together with, and married other Japanese. In Tokyo the chances of running into a foreigner were higher than most, but slim. Satoru could recall on multiple occasions when he’d been mistaken for a foreigner, with his striking blue eyes and snow white hair. That’s usually how people envisioned gaijin; someone of Caucasian or European descent; fair skin, blue eyes, light colored hair. Anyone a shade darker, a kokujin, might (but very seldom) be met with suspicion or open hostility. The subject made Satoru curious and not long after he was married, he had begun reading about gaijin baseball players and what it was like playing in Japan during the 80’s and early 90’s.

Their experiences were not always positive.

Leron Lee was a gifted baseball prodigy from sunny Sacramento, California. Shortly after high school, he was scouted by the St. Louis Cardinals, later making his Major League debut with the Redbirds at age 21. Things seemed great at the start. The Major Leagues were seen as the epitome of baseball, except Lee was confronted with an unexpected problem. He kept getting traded and the coaches continuously benched him. Why? Because there was always someone better, faster, or stronger to place in the starting lineup, and as a result Lee had gotten kicked to the curb. It reached the point where he was receiving little to no playing time, and make no mistake, Lee wanted to play. So he took a gamble, and after eight seasons playing baseball in the U.S, 29 year old Lee grabbed his passport and boarded a plane for Kawasaki, Japan to join the Lotte Orions’ organization.

His debut season in 1977 as an Orion was met with huge success, leading the entire league with 34 home runs and 109 RBIs, but Lee would soon face a second problem. The Nippon Professional Baseball league did not want their star player to be a black man, so as to maintain the “Japaneseness” of the league, as they put it. After winning the batting title in 1980. “Only five people in the Lotte organization congratulated me, “ Lee would go on to say. “The following spring when they gave me my silver bat for being the batting champion, they did it in the clubhouse. No presentation at home plate in front of the fans. They just handed it to me. They seemed ashamed.” This, and the hurl of racial epithets the drunken crowds would fling at him whenever Lee struck out or made a bad play. Any sense of complaining was taken as a show of weakness. In all his years donning the Orion’s uniform, Lee would receive no brand endorsements and had to pay for his own equipment out of pocket. Nevermind that he was one of the few gaijin players who bothered to master the Japanese language while taking considerable salary cuts. Not even his white teammates did that.

It wasn’t all bad of course. Despite these setbacks, Lee liked living in Japan and had no regrets about moving there. He even invited his younger brother to play in the NPB for a short time. (It’s worth noting that Lee also married outside his race; a Japanese woman who once served as his translator. They would go on to have two children together, both girls).

Since his retirement in 1987, a lot had changed in the NPB and how they treated their gaijin players, but that same attitude couldn't be said about Japan’s views on foreigners as a whole (at least not yet).

In 2000, the disappearance and horrendous murder of Lucie Blackman would make front page news on practically every Japanese outlet, and the world, bringing down one of the country’s most infamous serial rapists in the process. Lucie Blackman, an English national and former flight attendant, arrived in Tokyo during the summer of 2000. To make a little extra money, she and a friend each got gigs working as hostesses for a Roppongi nightclub, a job that was similar to a modern day geisha, albeit with less elegance, but less degrading than stripping (or prostitution for that matter, which is still illegal). Many foreign women, most traveling on tourist visas, would take hostessing jobs. Ostensibly, they were hired to entice men inside the club and have them order as many rounds as possible. This also provided a not so subtle way for Japanese men to strike conversation and interact with foreign women, especially white women. A natural blonde with long legs and blue eyes, Lucie Blackman exotic beauty surely wetted many men’s appetites and caught the attention of unwanted admirers. One of whom would be her rapist and killer.

Under the law, it was illegal to work in Japan with only a tourist visa, leaving many foreign women vulnerable to exploitation and blackmail. Such was the case with Lucie Blackman, and because she was a foreigner, her disappearance wasn’t taken seriously at first, but when the British Embassy got word, the story caused a considerable uproar back home in England. Where is Lucie? Who could've done this? Why aren’t the Japanese authorities doing more? Is she even alive?

It wouldn’t be until the following year, February 9, 2001, that her body was recovered. Autopsy showed that Lucie had been drugged and repeatedly raped, before being viciously murdered. Once dead, her body had been hacked to pieces and left inside a cave encased in concrete. Obara Joji, a wealthy businessman, and frequent visitor of many foreign-filled nightclubs, was charged of rape and manslaughter and sentenced to life imprisonment. However, despite swaths of evidence, prosecutors could not prove without a reasonable doubt that Obara was Lucie’s killer. Investigators would later find that not only had Obara likely raped Lucie Blackman, but possibly more than a hundred other foreign women for almost a decade without being caught. All of them, hostesses. Most of them, white.

Lucie’s tragic murder brought to light many atrocities involving foreign women and the Japanese hostess industry. However, the real questions on everyone’s mind were these: Why was her disappearance not taken seriously from the beginning? And how did a man, who had been arrested previously on charges of sexual assault, manage to get away with drugging and rapping innocent women for nearly ten years? Satoru didn’t have an answer. Thankfully, progress was being made. “Human trafficking” was now part of the Japanese lexicon and most people were very welcoming of foreigners regardless of race or nationality, especially ones like Hannah who knew the language and were respectful of the culture, but every now and then you’d encounter some right-wing kook who believed every outlandish conspiracy the Sankei Shimbun wrote, and brought it upon themselves to ruin life for everybody. Satoru wouldn’t forget the day he witnessed that reality for himself, and not at the hands of the jujutsu elite.

It was November, 2015. Hannah wanted to go for a late breakfast in Tokyo, and between teaching and missions, Satoru greatly favored the idea. It had been a while since he had spent time with his wife. So, he chose a restaurant neither of them had visited before, but unbeknownst to them, the restaurant was run by a certain…group of people.

“Sorry, your girlfriend can’t come in here.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at the wrinkly old man guarding the entrance. “She’s not my girlfriend, gramps. Mind telling me why my wife can’t come in?”

The man drew a puff from his cigarette and tapped on a sign placed near the doorway.

NO FOREIGNERS ALLOWED.

Satoru’s glare worsened. “What if she’s not a foreigner?”

The old man gave a chortling laugh and spat at the ground. “If she wasn’t born here, she’s a foreigner. Plain and simple.”

That riled Satoru’s anger.

“The hell? How is that even legal?”

“Hey, twerp. Don’t look at me,” the man said, showing him his hands. “I just do what I’m told. It’s not my job to make the rules. Only follow them.”

“What did you just call me, old man?”

Satoru took a threatening step forward, heatedly removing his glasses to reveal his glacial blue eyes.

Hannah, wishing to avoid conflict, quickly grabbed Satoru’s arm and got between him and the old man, bowing deeply.

“Please excuse my husband’s rudeness and for informing us of the rules. We will take our leave now. Have a nice day.”

Her Japanese was flawless as she said it. No accent or mispronunciation to be had. Absolute perfection. Even the old man seemed visibly impressed, but didn’t dare voice it out loud and breathed out another puff from his cigarette.

Satoru was still fuming about it as they walked hand in hand down the street.

“‘No foreigners allowed?’ That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Why has no one notified their representative? If it were me, I would’ve taught that guy a lesson or phoned a lawyer. How’re you not mad?”

“He was simply doing his job, Satoru. I’m sure he’s not like that outside of work.”

Satoru abruptly stopped walking and tugged his wife’s hand, pulling her to him so they were facing each other. He hadn’t put his glasses back on.

“That’s not an excuse, Hannah.” He veered her off to the side and cupped her flushed cheeks, speaking tenderly. “The sun and moon cannot light up a crooked hole. This is your home — Heck, you voted in the election for cryin’ out loud, and your Japanese is better than most. You’re not an outsider.” His forehead connected to hers, tracing her lips with his thumb. “Not to me.”

Gojo Hannah offered him a sad smile. The kind that said, ‘I sympathize with you wholeheartedly, but I’ll say nothing more on the matter.’ With deft fingers, she reached up to rewrap the tartan red scarf around his neck - a birthday present she had gifted him last year - and stood on her tippy toes to give him a reassuring kiss.

“Come on then, you big sod, let’s go to Jade5. I remember how much we liked their pancakes.”

Hannah was willing to forgive and forget the whole encounter ever happened.

Satoru, not so much.

That was the only time his wife had ever been denied access somewhere for being a foreigner, but the Six Eyes wielder was no fool. He knew his country was not a garden full of cherry trees. The old isolationist mindset had not vanished off these shores. While it may not have profited off a global slave trade, or segregated whites from blacks, Japan was not without sins. She had committed heinous crimes in the past. Ask the Koreans how their women were treated in the midst of Japanese occupation. Or the Chinese when the Imperial Army laid siege upon Nanjing. Their contempt wasn't without justifiable cause. And with that came national and ethnic animosity on both sides. Still, to this day.

Satoru had learned much since becoming a married man. Although, that didn’t make him ‘colorblind’ of the situation. Colorblind, he thought. What a half-baked idea. While it was likely drawn from good intent, Satoru saw nothing wrong with pointing out someone’s physical characteristics. It only became an issue when it was used as a vehicle for discrimination. Hannah was English-European. She had auburn hair, hazel eyes, fair skin, and a faint dusting of freckles. She was clearly foreign, anyone with eyes could see that, but it didn’t prompt Satoru to go up to people and say, “Sorry, folks. This is a decoy. I leave my Japanese wife at home to do the cleaning.” No. Hannah was his wife, his one and only. If people didn’t like it, then that was their problem. And to be perfectly clear, most held zero qualms about their relationship. They had more prescient matters on their minds like global warming, the suicide rate, or the aging population.

Having enough of his musings, Satoru stopped skimming the rows of photographs and looked around the art gallery for his wife. He saw her standing down the hall in front of a portrait; a white man and his Japanese fiance.

“They're like us, Satoru,” she said as he came to join her.

“Yeah.” He wrapped an arm around his bride and held her close. “They sure are.”

Those idiots could cast their sticks and stones all they liked.

Their love was stronger than their hate.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk oneshot #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #love conquers all #❤️#satoru x oc #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo fluff #Satoru x fem oc #Satoru x wife #gojo takes a wife #satoru gojo #japan #gojo x oc #jjk #arranged marriage #romance

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whiimms · 1 year

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I posted 759 times in 2022

That's 703 more posts than 2021!

437 posts created (58%)

322 posts reblogged (42%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@whiimms

@buglaur

@estah

@deathbypufferfish

@astystole

I tagged 742 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#ts4 - 317 posts

#the sims 4 - 296 posts

#simblr - 294 posts

#ts4 gameplay - 270 posts

#reblog - 268 posts

#ts4 legacy - 230 posts

#*kumari - 208 posts

#random legacy challenge - 207 posts

#*kumari legacy - 206 posts

#sims 4 - 174 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#ignore the fact there was no post today because i had a lab exam today and haven't been able to edit like the 1024930490 pics in my folder y

My Top Posts in 2022:

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141 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

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273 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

justice for raj rasoya - a quick rant about townie makeovers

so i was casually scrolling on my dash and i saw someone playing with the city living townies. i was appalled when i realized that one of these sims was intended to be raj rasoya, a sikh chef living in the spice market of san myshuno. the sim in the post looked drastically different to raj, he was barely recognizable until i checked the tags. i then began looking at his tag on tumblr, and it’s lowkey making me sick to my stomach.

i don’t know why i’m uncomfortable with this, or it it’s just me but it’s so unsettling to see people either white wash, slim down, or remove raj’s turban when they make him over. i don’t understand the need that people have to change raj into something completely unrecognizable because he doesn’t fit western beauty standards. why must we make him have a chiseled bod and lightly tanned skin? why do we feel the need to make his nose smaller and remove his nose bridge? why do we feel the need to remove his turban?

the turban and even the kara (bracelet raj and geeta wear) are both symbols of their faith. it begs me to ask the question, would the perpetrators that have white washed raj do the same to an EA townie that’s hijabi? probably not - at least, i would hope not.

this is weird and lowkey not okay. it’s quite clear that EA intended for the rasoyas to be sikh. why are we trying to erase their ethnic features and backgrounds?

now before you guys come at me, i’m going to say that - it’s your game i’m not policing you - however, i am pointing out how weird and disrespectful it comes across to actively erase the features and religious qualities of townies that were specifically given these identities.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. please let me know if this is just a me issue, i’m genuinely curious to see how other people feel about this. my inbox is open, and i’d be happy to chat. it says my comments are enabled, but people have had trouble with commenting on my posts before, so just shoot me an ask instead!

835 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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