#i do not blame diya!!!

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

What bothered me the most about the Velma show was just the sheer lost potential it had. Like, for one, the reveal of what was actually going on was actually so intriguing? Like, okay, the army general trying to put a stop to 'meddling kids' protesting the war so he teams up with a scientist for brain swapping experiments only to steal her work and put her in a asylum, and then Victoria, the general's daughter, restarting the experiment to swap her son's brain out and hypnotizing Diya into helping her and hypnotizing Velma to have hallucinations? Bruh. All of that sounds interesting and has such story potential. But it feels like the show doesn't focus a lot on actually doing detective work, so there's no sort of slow progression into figuring out what's going on. Even when they do things to try and progress the mystery, it doesn't really feel like they do? Like they don't focus on it. I would've really liked it if they slowly solved the mystery over the course of the show, doing active steps to solving clues each episode with the typical amount of breaking an entering and stealing and interrogation and such.

Also, when Velma mentioned the whole thing with the scientist, Edna, doing 'white people shit' and I feel like they could've done something with that. This is a white man stealing a black woman's work, and then when she refuses to give her any more of her work he throws her into an asylum. This is something so tragically rooted in reality. Maybe have like a whole flashback dedicated to Edna, like Velma went to the asulym based on a clue and got the full story from her. It would go through Edna's mindset of having good intentions with her work, only to get no financial backing because she's a black woman. And then the general shows up and gives her the money she needs. Only for the general to start controlling what the brain swapping would ultimately be for, and Edna slowly loses her morals as she doesn't want to lose him as a sponsor. Then when he steals her work, that's when it all comes to a head, having a mental breakdown and realizing that even if with his sponsorship that would allow her to do other projects that might do some good, the general would just take credit again. So she gets rid of all her reasurch, and she's been rotting in this asylum ever since. But it sort of feels brushed over in the show.

As for the gang's personalities, I'm not entirely against them being more asshole like, but I feel like it could be done a bit differently. I'ma start their personalities off with a blank slate and rewrite them along with the story structure. Let's start with the big one; Velma. So here's the thing; literally nobody cared when her mom went missing. Her mom seemed to be the only one that cared about her (I'm going to make it so Norville and her aren't friends at the start of the show). Her dad clearly doesn't want her and is very neglectful, and then turns around and blames Velma for Diya leaving (I'd like it if Velma and her mom actually had a mutual good relationship with each other, not just Velma assaulting her the whole time), the police don't try that hard because they think Diya just abandoned her family too. Velma is the only one who cared to look. Instead of just getting hypnotizing immediately after her mom's disappearance, that seemed odd, she spends the past two years looking, the only one looking. Maybe she gets on the right track so that's when she gets hypnotizing into not solving mysteries. So that's when the show starts, with Velma feeling useless and frustrated that she can't find her mom without hallucinating and making no progress because of it. She won't ask for help from anyone because she feels like nobody's on her side, and she feels the only way a person would help her is if she tricks them or threatens them. So she's jaded, dismissive of people because she thinks they're dismissive of her, but she does adore figuring things out. Especially if it's difficult, she loves the challenge of it. She carries a bunch of little puzzles on her at all times.

Now Norville, who I'm going to now call Shaggy because I'd like it if he had the nickname or just gained it somehow during the show so i'm going to say he did in my rendition, his whole personality I probably had the second biggest problems with. But anyway, it's kinda glossed over but I would like it if it wasn't, his parents don't like the way he is. I think they wanted a different child, one they could point to and be like "yep, that's definitely the principle/guidance counclor's son". When he was younger he tried to fit their mold, but it was never good enough so eventually he just stopped trying, becoming a slacker. I think Shaggy cares the most about other people and their well being. He also has a weird amount of obscure talents he brings out at random moments. ALSO, he is having a Scooby. Scobby won't talk, but he'll always be around Shaggy as a service dog, maybe for anxiety or something. This could also result in disappointment from his parents, cause even tho his dad is a guidance counselor, I get the vibe that his parents only care if the students are 'perfect', and the guidance counselor would try to manipulate the students into becoming 'perfect' during sessions, and if not then they're discarded, and Shaggy was discarded. I think he helps Velma, and Velma is very suspicious about it.

As for Daphne, I'd like it if she was a little older when she was abandoned by her parents, like 6 or something. So she remembers them and remembers the abandonment, and when she sees her dad on the news she recognizes him, setting off her journey of reconnection. And I think remembering her life beforehand would really amp up her feelings of being left. She had been interrogated about her parents when she was young but she was little enough to not fully understand the criminal activities she saw, and she still doesn't really, her memories skewed by her thinking her childhood was normal before she was abandoned. I like her doing violent and impulsive things, probably derived from her formative years with her criminal family. I think she's also very manipulative, but in a nice way sort of. Like you wouldn't even know she manipulated you. This is because she's a bit of an empath, very good with people, but doesn't care for them like Shaggy. Also, her adoptive moms could have an arc where they're not detectives, they just happen work in the police station. When Daphne gets involved with her crime parents, they pull out some detective work of their own. After that they could become a sort of ally to the gang, and maybe sort of start taking over the police station with the help of Daphne's manipulation.

And then Fred. His whole family life is terrible; his parents think he's a defect, that he's not tough or smart enough to be the heir of the company. Kinda similar to Shaggy, but instead of shutting down and leaning into the whole 'failure' thing, Fred doubles down. He is determined to be perfect, went to military school and just came back this year. (tie in his military school into trying to solve the mystery with the general and such) I think he likes planning things, crafting traps. He's very tactical, and he honestly thrived in military school because of it, but he had been miserable. Because deep down he doesn't care about the family business or the military or whatever; he actually dreamt of being a superhero. He adored those superhero comics as a kid that took down the bad guy, that's what he wanted, to just make the world a better place. Of course, those comics weren't allowed so he had to sneak them, something he hadn't done in years, because now he acts like how his parents want although it's still never enough. Underneath it all, he's actually a himbo and over the course of the show he slowly becomes his true self, solving mysteries and forming plans to take down the bad guys like in those comics. Also the way his mom was going to swap his brain because she just hates who he is that much; that's going to mess him up.

It seems like the gang all have messed up parental relationships they're dealing with, which I feel could've been utilized. They all, in a sense, feel unwanted, that they aren't enough for the people that are supposed to be the closest to them. They could've bonded over that, making each other feel wanted, a slowburn friendship from the four of them, as none of them are used to letting people in. Also, they're sort of the next generation of 'meddling kids', which I also felt could have more emphasis. Maybe it means like they actually care about the world, that they want to do some good, whilst the people they're up against have all the power and opportunity in the world and they just use it to keep themselves on top. Maybe show some parallels between the 'meddling kids' back then and the 'meddling kids' now, and what became of the 'meddling kids' of the past.

I dunno, I just feel like despite having a cool premise they spent the whole show trying to be satirical towards other teen mystery shows or something instead of actually trying to tell a story. I also liked the animation style. The hallucinations looked cool. So yeahhh.

#hbo velma #velma #velma the series #velma dinkley #fred jones #shaggy rogers #norville shaggy rogers #daphne blake #scooby doo

[r4c3rr]

POSTING OLD AOUV DRAFTS PART 2

Alistair: Without me to blame everything on, you guys wouldn’t know what to do with yourselves

————-

Diya: I am beginning to regret showing you how the blender works.

Alistair, drinking toast: Why??

----------

Briony: Not all problems can be solved with a knife.

Elionor: I know...

Elionor: That's why I carry two knifes.

----------

Alistair: I'm not doing too well

Hendry: What's wrong?

Alistair: I have this headache that comes and goes

Marianne: *enters the room*

Alistair: There it is again

#all of our demise #all of us villains #alistair lowe #briony thorburn #elionor payne #hendry lowe #marianne lowe

[jackie-shitposts]

me trying to weasel my way into that post led to sad diya with a bindle thursday and i am determined to make it a thing do i blame jo or do i blame jo

JO? you fucking set diya out to live in the wild…they cant survive out there you know this… HOW COULD YOU, YOURE HORRIBLE

@lesbiansayaishii

#sam asks! #mari asks ooo

[captorsicallfriends]

Another story- so I'm not gonna tell you everything about my family bc that'd be dumb but I will tell you that my family is full of police officers. Yay. And I didn't think about it much when I was younger but now I'm kind of realising there is no other way this happened than for the purpose of me becoming the main character in a dystopian novel. So I'm sitting at my family Christmas party, surrounded by skinny white able bodied cishet people having, as I'm sure you can oh so clearly imagine, the time of my life (sarcastic). ⚠️This next bit involves racism and mentions of police brutality so feel free to not read this if that kind of thing doesn't sit well with you⚠️ And somehow the conversation switched to the black lives matter movement, and my uncle started running his mouth off on how if George Floyd just "complied" he wouldn't have had to be treated with such force. Oh no. Oh fuck no he did not just say that. Listen listen listen you can deadname me and whine about how disappointing my lifestyle is but the second you come for a whole ass movement aiming for equal rights????? Tell me what you want on your tombstone rn and I'll just write the word moist a bunch of times instead that's how pissed I am. But anyway- I am too shocked to speak like how can you say something like that wtf. So instead of ripping him to shreds like I normally would I just wait until the dinner is over and follow him around the house going "guess who I am", making a bunch of pig sounds, and pointing at him. And Diya when I tell you there is nothing funnier than a grown ass man turning bright red and fuming, winding up his fist going "why I oughta-" while a smug child stands there pushing up their nose and oinking, there really is nothing funnier . This occured the whole night it was extremely funny and I'd definitely be in jail right now if I still spoke to them but anyways. The next morning rolls around and my aunt brings up that murder of the black man who got shot, died, and the cop claims she "thought the gun was a taser". And I go "yeah it's horrific how little coverage that story got and she was obviously racist but if the story she's saying is real by some very very very slim chance it really proves how unqualified cops are to be doing their j-" and was interrupted with "what? No, it was obviously an accident. That poor police officer getting blamed for an innocent mistake 🥺🥺🥺" I'm- if I wasn't surrounded by arseholes 24/7 and also if murder wasn't illegal let me tell you I'd be running this fucking shitshow a whole lot better than like any world leader ever. But the world is a sad sad place so until my mortal soul sheds it's physical form and my primordial existence renews itself with the rage and fury of a thousand suns (approx 2072 if my math is right), we will have to endure more of this bullshit, dear mutuals. But fret not my love's, because we will be forever blessed with the constant opportunity to rebel against the oppressers, and as long as there are people there will be rage and change, no matter how small or helpless it seems. Bet you can't guess what the rest of the afternoon looked like. "Hey hey hey guess who I am" oink oink oink oink oink "that's you" *runs away*

But yea fuck capitalism and I promise one day I'll punch them in their stupid pink faces

that is the funniest shit ever (you imitating a pig and saying it's the cops) and yeah fuck capitalism. acab everyone

#diya answers #anon

[exploringme2022]

Again i got a dream about them, that they are taking pictures with my friends, however i don't care they are together, but why are they with my friend, yesterday I told my friend about what I did, she was right that he might be angry with her that's why he said something like this and it's true because his words and actions are not same, i unblocked him on LinkedIn to see his post and i liked, and he changed his dp as his WhatsApp, dictates he is still into her prioritize her, and he shared his filtered pic in red light and i think he is looking very good because I have not completely moved on and I saw that randi insta dp and i starting thinking high of her but when I saw it closely i realised she is same as her WhatsApp dp🤣🤣, dihati, and aadi is similar of her , i don't know why I think high of her, while she is not , now i don't even have reason to think high of her so moved on, and i don't know why I think high of him because he feed that thing in my mind, even though similar age person in same company holding team lead and manager post and even devansh is just 2 days older than him and he is manager and owns a car and 2 flats, he is way high of him, and his gf is working in tech Mahindra in R&D department they are way high of them and much better looking, both of them are cheap internally you just can't see right now, and do you think aadi is changed so much, i don't think so, he is same shitty person he was before that's why he has not realised and blamed us and he have superiority complex and thinks very high of himself, let him, do not contact him first berna uske or bhaw badh jayega, he is good looking, he earns good amount of salary, he will get a gf easily, and he can that girl easily, and i wish him the best and let him go in peace, he will get what he deserve, i don't want anything bad happen to him with or without her, i hope he finds true meaning of life and find a person who deserves him and leave past in behind but it's upto him, you can not make him understand anything, there is nothing you can do to make everything correct because he cheated on you when there was nothing wrong with me and in our relationship so now i don't want him to be part of my life anymore, because I had no life with him, i am free now, doesn't have to consider him in any decisions .

I miss him and i might always will because there are lots of memories and moments we created together, like we did not used to study in library, we used to do...😂😂😉, and ice dala dete the tshirt me or nikalne nhi dete the dono ke dono, hum wrestling khelte the, hum nadi pahad khelte the, chess khelte the, Rubik's cube banana sikhaya use, society me jhoole pr beth kr jhoolte the, humare 2-3 spots the VBHC me jaha hum hamesa akele sath bethte the, usko chipkali se bhut dar lgta tha toh Bo jata nhi tha baha, Bo hum dairy ki ek ice cream khate the 15rs bali usme Jo tuty fruty rehti thi Bo me hamesa apni ice cream or aadi ki ice cream dono ki kha leti thi, hum aunty ke shop se hamesha kuch na kuch snacks lekr aate the, me mostly nachoz or cavins and aadi halidrams ka koi packet, starting me hum log late tk ruk kr engineering block ke stairs pr bhi kiss kiye he, usko hamesha se girls washroom Jana tha..😉, or hum log jb vogo lekr jate the pizza bagera khane , lautte tym byagdennahalli se clg tk loop me ghumte the kuch close time sath me bitane ke liye ek bar toh hum log raste me jakr kuch kr rahe the but koi peeche pad gya, hum aise bhage, or ek bar hum log bapis aa rhe the VBHC toh hum dono ek jhopad Patti ke pass chale gye bheeg kr , kuch kr nhi paye kyuki log the, or ek bar hum ja rhe toh barish aa gya hum raste me he khade ho gye, fir bapis aa gye, or VBHC starting me first time uske flat gyi toh Bo mujhe apni tshirt ke andr le liya or covered me bitha diya, or fir hug Kiya or last me bhi covered me bitha diya, or abhi last me ek bar hum log treasure hunt bhi khele the mast, or humari Goa ki beach walk and stuff, or mera b'day goa me, humara N dance, sleeping on him, next to him, our first lip kiss in train, our first close hug in train, i tried something to put my hand on his face and kiss him, then we were watching movie together he took a kid and i was touching him, and he was like mota my kr feel ho jayega usko, and first time he kissed me on head when we was returning from food club, then one of the best head kiss was in temple run, our last best kiss in aug 2022, and last kiss was on lift, he always always used to kiss me and come close to me in lift, and our black kurti ritual in bindi, even we have to miss a class, and he helped me wrap a saree and removing it too, he took challenge to kiss me in every part of college, even he kissed me in dean's office, we used to sit at different different places in college closely and do stuff, and he used to wait for me near my college slab, i used to make him wait so much, and our small dates to san's deli for icecream and fries, and i used to bite my lips and he used to go all crazy, and our calls and texts, and he used to keep his finger near my ear, and once we danced in danceroom, our first photoshoot near mandir he was holding me and revolving around, he used to keep his hand on my kamar or shoulder like i am his property, my laptop used to be with him most of the time, he gave me his original iPhone earphones that I destroyed😂😅, he fought for me with bus wala and one guy, he was very protective before, he used to take care of me so much,

.... I hope mujhe mauka mile use ye sari cheezen pr baat krne ka, pr jb Bo contact kre realise krke na ki me, Jo ki bo kbhi karega nhi... it will be too late

[writemekpop]

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?  

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal​

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.  

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

#neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta smut #NCT-WRITERS #nct u #nct 127 #nct 2020 #yuta scenarios #nakamoto yuta smut #yuta angst #nct smut #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct hard hours #nct 127 angst #yuta fanfiction #nct drabbles #nct 127 smut

[sierice]

Ever heard “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and the Boyce Avenue cover of “Chained to the Rhythm”? Both give me post-ToA Apollo vibes. Like, I could very clearly imagine him playing them. What do you think?

Hi Anon!!

So I have heard to The Archer (I thank Diya for introducing me to that <3). Yes!! It really fits post-ToA Apollo 🤍🤍 And it's vibes are AWESOME. (At this rate I'll end up being a Swiftie... Diya I blame you /lh /nm)

I havn't heard Chained to the Rhythm though!! And oh my god just- YES!! It fits post-ToA Apollo PERFECTLY!! 

So when I listened to the original song by Katy Perry, I already thought it fit his character so wel. But then I listened to this cover and just- OH MY. IT JUST FIT POST-TOA APOLLO’S CHARACTER A WHOLE LOT MORE. Just- The guitar vibes

Another thing- these lines fit him so perfectly, that to say which lines I feel work best for him, I��d have to put the whole song skskks. But here are few of the lines I think fit him best-

So comfortable, we're livin' in a bubble, a bubble So comfortable, we cannot see the trouble, the trouble

That last line just- I feel like it could be  about how Zeus ignored the signs of Gaea and Kronos rising, you know? Like it fits for most of the gods and many other situations too, but I think these two fit the most 

Aren't you lonely up there in Utopia? Where nothing will ever be enough Happily numb

Like- this part is quite literal in the sense that Olympus is, quite literally, Utopia sksksk 

Yeah, we think we're free (aha) Drink, this one's on me We're all chained to the rhythm To the rhythm, to the rhythm

The way this fits the Olympian council is just- SDFJKLASDFJLSDF IT’S AWESOME THAT’S WHAT IT IS

Especially that first line!! Oh my god that fits so good- Just- the way that all the other gods think that they’re free from mortal things and attachments, like as if they’re free from the threads of Fate. Like- ughh it just works so well! <333

Are we crazy? Living our lives through a lens Trapped in our white-picket fence Like ornaments

Ok, so this line isn’t exactly a canon part of post-ToA Apollo, but this really reminds of that one part in the fic Were I that Burning Star  :

They were still for a while. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "Do you really think we are mad?"

"In a way." She swung her legs a bit, feeling young and old and reminiscent. "We used to try harder. Do you remember? Back when the world was new."

Like idk why- it just really reminded me of that part sksksk

Also- this isn’t exactly a song analysis here, rather the music video (The music video by Katy Perry). I just feel that like- the whole thing works so well with Apollo’s character development???

Like, for most of the video, she does exactly what everyone else has been doing, almost like in a trance, and she didn't sense anything amiss. But she soon starts like breaking out of that. Like- she stps doing the exact same things in perfect harmony- she realizes how wrong all of it is. And I think that just- fits Apollo so well??? Like he used to be one of those people, believing that everything was perfect and good. But after his trials, he realized how awful and wrong the whole system is. 

I’m so sorry if that doesn’t make sense, I sorta rambled there sksksk. But tysm for introducing me to this song anon!!! It’s absolutely awesome!! 💚💚💚💚

#trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #pjo apollo #pjo #hoo #toa #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #asks #anon asks #toa song recs #pjoverse #riordanverse #🤍🖤🤍🖤

[phati-sari]

IPKKND 10-year anniversary Instagram Live

You can watch it here or here. I kinda live-blogged it.

Lol at Abhaas struggling with the filters.

Oh no, Dalljiet dropped out! Oh, she’s back.

Is Barun wearing a white kurta on purpose? 

(Edited 36 minutes into the video: I don’t think he would even remember the white kurta lol)

This is so chaotic. Sanaya’s trying to keep them all on track and failing miserably.

Abhaas: *mentions Balwant Kaur*

Barun: Main tere ko mukha maar doon?

Aww, that made me a little sad, that he can’t actually deny the journalists when they ask the same three inane questions over and over and over again. He still sang it though.

LOL Abhaas just straight-up acknowledging that the fans wouldn’t have tuned in without Barun and Akshay. 

Abhaas: “Blame the gram, don’t blame the host.”

Barun: “Main toh chingum dhoond raha hoon yaar.” I laughed so hard I had to rewind it.

Ngaw, poor Akshay. I super respect the way he’s come out and gone on record about exactly how unhappy he was with how it all turned out.

I love how surprised Sanaya was!

Abhaas: *mentions that he met Dalljiet last*

Sanaya: Really?!?!

Dalljiet: Muhn maar raha tha mera husband kahin aur, muhn kala kar raha tha. Wahan shoot pehle hui thi! Ghar toh baad mein aaya na?

Barun: Haan phir dara hua tha main, helicopter mein kabhi baitha nahin tha! ... Pehla din seedha helicopter mein daal diya ... Main bahut pareshan, ki main toh middle-class Delhi ka aadmi hoon, mere ko helicopter mein bitha ke karenge kya?

Oh I remember this!! They hired a Toyota RAV4 Fortuna for Lucknow and then had Arnav in the other white cars with the badge covered as if no-one would notice. He’s right, they would’ve had him on a moped had the serial continued lol.

I’ve often made jokes about how the passenger-side seat-belt was probably broken given how much Khushi struggled with it -- nice to know the car was just a piece of crap.

Ahh, they’re talking about their entries. I do so very much love the way Arnav and Shyam were introduced.

I laughed very hard at how quickly Akshay said “Never!” to doing another show. I’m on that boat right there with him lol, may these people never act together again!

Nggaaawww. Barun saying Akshay’s exit scene was the first time the director was telling them not to cry, whereas at other times he was always told to cry more.

As a side note, I love that Aman and Lalit were named after the directors. It was a nice touch and I try to preserve it in my stories.

The razor story makes a come-back lol. 

OH THEY’RE EXPLAINING THE MISSING SHOTS. I’ve waited ten years for someone to explain it!!!

Akshay’s favourite scene was the NYE one they had to do because Barun and Sanaya were on holidays. It’s kind of sad -- he totally has a point because that is one of Aakash’s best sequences and he only had the chance to do it because both leads were away.

One of the things I like about IPKKND is that even the nonsensical scenes and sequences have a reasonably good in-canon explanation. Like, if the Bali-in-Delhi sequences came about because of cost-cutting and they were initially supposed to go somewhere (be still my beating heart, this is going to be an OS, I can feel it), the final result -- while still random -- doesn’t feel super awkward.

I too love the scene in the mandir with Arnav and his Di!!

Abhaas: Your whole show was mandir-wala scene!

Q: What would your characters be doing right now?

Q: If not for your character, which other character would you want to play on the show?

Barun: I would be busy running Amazon. A to Z. Big businessman. And maybe Arnav is having a conversation with someone to sell the Safari and buy a smaller car.

Akshay: My business in America tanked because nothing gets done without Arnav! Now he’s selling CDs. 

Dalljiet: Shyam isn’t there, we kicked him out with a slap.

Abhaas: I’m still plotting against you with a scorpion.

Dalljiet: Well I’m cooler than all of you because you all have children.

Sanaya: You didn’t have a kid?

Dalljiet: No, and we kicked out the person I’d have kids with.

Akshay: I think Shaym got married to the scorpion.

Oh my goodness Abhaas still has Rani Sahiba saved on his phone, which is still programmed as Aman’s number.

Abhaas: Anyone but Shyam? I would be Aakash.

Akshay: Kya bol raha hai bhai?

Barun: I would’ve played Hari Prakash if they paid me per-day.

Q: What dialogue do you remember from your character?

Dalljiet: I would love to play Hello hi bye-bye!

Akshay: I would not want to play in Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon! (after like ten minutes of refusing to answer) ... Lakshmi!

Sanaya: I would want to play Mami-ji for sure!

I laughed so hard when Akshay slapped Abhaas through the screen that I cried.

Sanaya: Laad Governor!

Akshay: *dramatique* Bhai.

Okay, the rest just devolved into general chaos.

Dalljiet: *reads out chat* Akshay is hot!

Akshay: *Vogues*

That was fun to watch, gave me some much-needed laughs. Doesn’t beat the LOTR reunion though.

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #10 years of ipkknd #ipkknd cast

[ssrasesvari]

SSraii's not that rudimentary thumb

Journ-Neet-/

©® SSraii

୬/୦୨

started and completed the living world totally

mistakes corrected ✔️

SSraii should study

୨୧/୦୨ made to get this cutie pie today 💚

& yes you may know or may not know but I'm coming here everyday to edit to let you know that I was alive today with your prayers & Lord's blessings and I'm studying , preparing 🦩. for betterment.... ..... 🌸

୯ ମାର୍ଚ୍ଚ ବୁଧବାର

GOC 1-9 lecture complete, reproductive health, plant anatomy, chemical control and coordination, (lect. pw yt), locomotion half

୧୦ ମାର୍ଚ୍ଚ ଗୁରୁବାର -୧୧ ମାର୍ଚ୍ଚ ଶୁକ୍ରବାର

ray optics, redox reac'n, digestion, tissue, locomotion (lec.,

I'm preparing studying whenever I'm getting any free time 😊

Divide into smaller divisions and try to complete, you'll feel easier this way, like don't we like to share small pieces of our food instead of taking the whole bowl alone. That's the trick

Now I've realised I've gotten a way to my dream. Preparing for neet with mobile now feels easier than my university degree and all, I hope I'll be successful oneday

bahut diya gyaan now seen what amount of gyaan I've listened or studied

It's Holi in my village so I'm getting bit free time ,

Holi holyday

୧୯-୨୦ ମାର୍ଚ୍ଚ

rotation ୧/୧୦, human reproduction ୧/୨, s, d blocks, botany whole lec'r (TS)

୨୧ ମାର୍ଚ୍ଚ - ୫ ଏପ୍ରିଲ

A long half month of days and a lot of problems here , I'm unable to study anything regularly like completing a specific chapter or something no just messed up whole last year a lot of problems, they continued early this year also but I thought I'll get some peace now and study still no so fate less I'm that no change again big big problems but I've studied like parts portions of books randomly whenever I got time, I've studied the theories of some chapters of physics but have not practiced any problems likewise I've read some random chapters of biology and chemistry, I don't think I can remember anything, but I'll hope the Lord will bless me with some stability in this daily hell life so that I'll be able to study in peace. 5/4/22

Also one thing I want to write/ mention here that there may be many people in your life with whom you're just living without any choices who just blame you for everything, bad mouth at you shout at you for like little or no reason, ruin lives then blame everything on God or moreover on you or the little phone which you just use for study without any choices, just ignore all these their words like we've a pair of ears so just listen in one ear inattentively and remove via the other ear, there are hardly anything in life which contribute , inspire us positively still we know ourselves what we do stay honest with yourself, your career as none cares ' here everyone is selfish, all just trying to take out my life anyways happy studying,, I'll update tomorrow I wish I'll be able to study here instead of crying and dying , 🦩🚶‍♀️❤️

୬ ଏପ୍ରିଲ

Dearest Lord Jagannath, please bless me 🙇‍♀️

sometimes I feel no now from somedays always that I must have done some severe penance no I've done maha maha maha paaps in previous life so now the punishment this rat race is taking out life out of me just wake up to work walk run , one real warning this govt jobs never ever do a very very very low pay govt teacher job, you'll suffer only and so your family no ijjat, no money nothing we're no reserved just pain and sufferings like never going to over in this life this is the reality one feet got injured no rest no care just run to work and now what my other feet also got injured in pressure and still I can't sit other than mere six hours time left to sleep in the end of the day I've no time for anything for myself and money it's not even enough to get a tution often I wander why so much work for this little amount of money even day labourers in my locality which was probably the previous profession of family men they earn atleast two folds more than this amount of money and it's sucking out life of us still we can't leave, not possible probably what to do now it's upto me only wheather I'll sleep in the last six hours of the day sleep or do whatever I wish and I choose to not it's not possible to sleep now without bringing a change into this hell life and to do that now I've only that much time available and I'll use that time passionately not like a machine and I hope I'll succeed oneday, this much of my part of real story today, just can't afford to keep holding the load this burden anymore

'studied a lot of chapters of phy chem bio randomly, I hope I'll complete some packages of theory left randomly today'

It has been ten days and I didn't know about this feature before, today I'm here again to update

୧୬ ଏପ୍ରିଲ

⑅ study to save lives

so I'll say if you're reading this and you got to study free like no work just study and personal care things no other responsibilities then you're fortunate। Yes you're I feel atleast just utilise your time properly, you'll succeed, here I'm just struggling to make time out of the whole day, no time to sit and I'm so tired to concentrate and study, still I'll just refresh my mind out of burden and got to read , it's high time now, form fillup I've not filled yet, I'll, about study I've just studied randomly and i feel it's not a big help in such like the best exam in country, so from today I'm thinking, I'm trying to study like not randomly bit like regularly completing and revising chapters, God bless me।

_ chem (modl.s)୨, ୨୧,୨୦ pap sol.n pract., bio.(Theo.finsh), phy(lec.s,q.s), umd(yt) & if i got to stdy sth adtnl I'll updt._

灬study to save lives灬˖⑅

galaxy lec.s

phy ☄️ ୧୩ blks, ୫-୭ times full revision

sunday, ୧୭, ସତର ଏପ୍ରିଲ,

Three months to the exam date, please bless me

Today was a very very disturbing and super busy day😒 morning was good then work relative came what to do what to think, just wake up to work make food so is it that life of a boy is easier than a girl!? I've no idea no need to know either, everyone has responsibilities but this much burden I'm dying how to balance my Lord? okay I hope I'll get to study in peace then rest in peace 😭

୧୮ ଏପ୍ରିଲ

-- ୫ ମେ

I'm feeling hell again I'm broken none to give suggestions I'm just trying to sort out everything myself and I'm tired and this healthy

What a busy useless life

will I ever succeed no idea but it's not time to cry I'm here to work whenever I've time, pray , refresh, work

my Lord! All glories to you please bless me

What I've studied

I've no idea how much I've covered

but I'm so I'll sleep now then waking up then work then study and I hope I'll be able to sort out something good before our family ceremony and it's just less than ten days now

We both are sad and crying and avoiding she's so sad what a shame I'm

am the worst child 😭 but what to do

I'm working whay more can I do

Please help me Lord 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

୬ ମେ

busy day well not a busy study day though

୧୦୦+୧୦୦+୨୫୦=୪୫୦ by mid ମେ ' - target -

Qns+theories '

NCERT

Mocks, qns, revision।

୧୫୦+୧୫୦+୩୫୦=୬୫୦

my love for the pink 🌸🦩💕

well I'm so fortunate 😒

Think different than the mass, than the most of us,

http://raiiatrims.blogspot.com/2022/05/im-alive-happy-its-already-may.html

literally everything went downhill after coming back from ceremony, I've no idea what I'm doing what's happening anyway everything is out of my control but guarantee in these last months since one month from then I've the best of food I can say it's a lot of mangoes and jackfruits

13/6

and from tomorrow mic will start here rip study

I'll fail for sure but I'm still in love with this blogging

😋 khata pani (pickle water) , we made puchka and chat at our home today after so long| ltasty prasadam for lifel raii

from now on

💗

#ssraii #ssraii challenges raii #SSraii-start this trend #as it's days but specific events #lecturers #youtube #neetaspirants #neet news #neet 2022 #sad but true

[ginazmemeoir]

Kashibai-Mastani

I was inspired by @allegoriesinmediasres to right this fic. It’s three pages long, so i would advise you to sit tight.

Kashi stood numb as she watched the projector curtain burn. She felt that Baji had burnt their marriage of 20 years too in a single night.

Mastani drew in a breath as Bajirao drew her closer in the Aaina Mahal in open defiance of his mother Radhabai. The anger on her face was clear, and Mastani felt as if she was committing a crime, when she shouldn’t have to.

It had been a year since the Aaina Mahal incident. Baji first reduced his visits, and then stopped altogether. He spent most of his time with Mastani in the palace he had specially constructed for her. The only time he saw Kashi was when she came back from her mother’s home after delivering her secondborn who was at length christened Raghunathrao (she called him Raghu or Raghoba). Even then he had left immediately to assist Mastani with her birth. Kashi hated a small part of herself for wishing that both mother and child died that day. She did everything to convince herself that she was happy, but the shock of betrayal had left her hollow. The maids and noblewomen were silenced by her sister-in-laws, but Kashi felt the sting of their taunts. She tried to believe she was luckier and happier, for she had the support of her entire kingdom and family, but really she just felt stripped of everything – cast adrift in a cruel sea.

Mastani now knew the true meaning of heaven. Yes she missed her father’s palace very much, but she would even trade the pleasure of a thousand jannats to spend time with Baji. He was teaching Krishna to walk right now (she insisted on calling him Krishna, while Baji called him Bahadur), and she felt she was in a dream – beautiful and fragile, and she feared it would break one day and she would wake up cold and alone.

Kashi didn’t know what to do. She considered her options – Mastani and her son’s death would mean that she had a chance to get back everything she had. But she knew nothing would ever be the same – her husband would be a broken man. No matter how much she wanted, her conscience wouldn’t let her commit such a crime, not today when she was worshipping Ganpati, the lord of auspiciousness and happiness. She went and told Baji during the aarti and they both rushed to rescue her, reaching just in time as she slew the final assassin and collapsed. Kashi hugged Bahadur and checked him for any harm. Then looking at Baji, she left and sent for the doctors.

Mastani felt her dream was cracking. She remembered each cruelty she had experienced at the hands of the Peshwa elite – staying in a brothel, being asked to dance in a private audience, and now almost being killed. She now feared for the life of her son, but one look at Baji, and she knew he would do anything to keep her safe. But just for her sake, she asked her father to send a contingent of her loyal Rajput soldiers from Banda.

It had been six years since things changed between her and Baji. Her wounds were healing, and Kashi was going to invite Mastani today for Gauri Padwa. As she reached Mastani Mahal, she heard both children giggling. The mothers couldn’t be happier that the animosity between them hadn’t affected their children in anyway – Raghoba and Bahadur were practically inseparable. Kashi stood near the threshold for a long time. She took in all of the palace – a marvel truly, it was a fusion of Rajputi, Mughal and Marathi architecture. There were jalis and jharokhas, a space she thought was meant for dua and ibadat and then a shrine dedicated to Krishna. Truly Mastani was wonderful. The palace was bare and elegant, sprawled instead with lush gardens, courtyard and fountains. She spotted an armoury, fit for warriors like her. Mastani was reciting poetry to the children then – it was about a pearl yearning to get out of the clam and embrace the ocean. Her poetry was magical, meanwhile Kashi wrote poems about a frog who ate nothing but laddoos and farted. Finally, the kids were sent away and Kashi entered.

Mastani saw Kashi standing near the threshold. She didn’t invite her, but instead used the poetry as a cover to recollect what she knew about her. They hadn’t met often, but on the rare occasion they had, she had found her to be collected and composed, watching everything silently. Mastani’s father had desperately tried to teach her these court manners, but failed on watching her giggling. The rest, she knew from Bajirao. He described her in astounding detail, like one would describe the full moon. She was innocent, but was a born empress. She navigated the deadly world of politics with ease, disarming opponents with kindness and taunts at the same time. She had established a strong rapport with her in-laws, and being the daughter of the richest banker in Pune, she had a head for numbers. Baji even described her palace while constructing hers -  it was an elaborate architecture, covered with statues and intricate carvings. There were not many gardens and the armoury was absent, but there was instead a well equipped kitchen and atelier, with foreign supplies. Everywhere one looked there was light; the entire structure was covered in arches of diyas, lamps and chandeliers. Her room was painted in bright colours, and there was a coveted bronze statue which must have cost a fortune. Kashi was every inch the empress she was. Shooing the children away, she invited her.

Kashi didn’t know what overcame her, but the poison she carried with her for six years came out pouring like a river. She had no sense of what she was speaking, but she knew it was not fit to be spoken by the Peshwain for the Princess of Budelkhand.

Mastani had expected this. She called her mistress and whore, a destroyer of homes; this she heard everyday – what she hadn’t expected was for her to start crying, then apologize and tell her to be strong, and then invite her to the Padwa function she had organized in the main palace.

That day both danced and revelled, ate food, prayed for happiness and shared as women, and unwittingly both had created a place in the other’s heart.

The next week Baji finally visited Kashi’s palace. The place had changed – it was not lit by lamps anymore. Kashi now knew what she was doing; she lashed out at Baji, called him a thousand cruel names. She reminded him of the way he hurt her, and then didn’t even care to come. So she banned him from her palace henceforth. She then wished him a long life and victory in battle, as he headed out to Hyderabad to quell the Nizam.

Mastani gave Bajirao his armour and swords. The right was reserved for the Peshwain, but Bajirao felt a warrior princess was better suited. He felt eerily calm as he shared a cryptic message with her and then rode off to battle.

Baji had fallen sick with fever and there were sores over his body. Palanquins were readied for Kashi and Radhabai in the dead of night along with a regiment of doctors, nurses, maids, cooks and soldiers as they headed to Rawalkhedi, when Kashi halted the procession. She went down from her palanquin, and rushed out, returning with Mastani and her son. Baji needed her. However Radhabai still had her way – Mastani was to come with the soldiers, cooks and maids later on. She arrived two days after Kashi. Bajirao rushed out of the tent to embrace her. That was the first night his week long fever broke.

There was not much to do, and so Kashi and Mastani spent most of the time together. They talked, laughed, ran, played games, and wept. Before long, both the women were fast friends.v

Baji was declared dead. All were shocked beyond measure. Nanasaheb was called from Pune to light fire to his father’s funeral pyre. He was then anointed Peshwa at Rawalkhedi. Kashi and Mastani now knew the real meaning of separation. They felt as if the precarious thread from which their lives were connected had snapped.

Weeks went by even after reaching Pune till Mastani emerged from her palace. As regnant Peshwain, Kashi was immediately swarmed by duties. Both women started moving towards the other, finding solace in the other’s company. It was time for Kashi to shave her head and burn her clothes and jewellery. Mastani convinced her otherwise – she was a human too, and her life without Baji just had as much meaning as with him. Both gave each other courage, and soon friendship blossomed to love.

They embraced each other in a secluded garden like they were the last humans on earth. Kashi wept, for she thought their relation was not meant to be. Mastani was made of stronger metal. She wrote a letter to her father the next day, asking his permission to marry Kashi. It took a week for the letter to arrive with the best of runners. The letter was in her mother’s writing. Both parents had blessed the union, but advised her to move with caution, even telling her to come back to Banda where she would be safe.

Mastani broke the news to Kashi. Kashi couldn’t believe her ears – what she believed was impure and irrational, was indeed love, and Mastani was willing to sacrifice everything for it. Kashi mustered all her courage and contacted her father too. The letter was delivered to her in secret – her father reaffirmed her that all love is pure, and further warned that if the Peshwas further tried to snatch her daughter’s happiness, he would make paupers out of them. Both sets of parents convinced, the only obstacles left were Radhabai and Nanasaheb.

Radhabai had reformed after her son’s death. She had accepted Mastani and her son, and even inculcated mullahs along with pandits to educate the young Peshwa princes. However, it took a lot of diplomacy and some tears to convince her of the union between a Hindu and Muslim widow.

Nana was a tougher nut to crack. He loved his mother, but still hated Mastani with a burning intensity, blaming her for his mother’s sorrows. He had always stayed under his grandmother’s shadow, and thus his young mind had already developed rigid ideas surrounding religion, caste, and women. It took two months for him to accept the union, after realizing the need for his mother to have a partner, and her right to be happy.

The wedding was conducted with full pomp and gaiety. The entirety of Pune, the Maratha nobility, and the relatives of both the brides arrived for this strange ceremony taking place. The ceremony was conducted through both Hindu and Muslim customs to keep religious tensions to a minimum. Both brides were resplendent and happy, and then retired to their quarters.

Their marriage ushered a new peace in the Maratha empire – strengthening unity and for the first time raising questions about women’s and widows’ rights. Mastani had headed with her son to the Battle of Panipat as a diplomat and was instrumental in brokering peace. Kashi played her part as the Peshwain to perfection, handling the increasingly autonomous Maratha chiefs.

They retired after the battle to a palace within the woods. The women lived in peace, and served as an example for history – that love indeed is boundless.

#bajirao mastani #bajirao #kashi #kashibai #mastani #india #fanfics #fanfictions #indian fanfics #indian fics #fics #literature #storytelling #lgbtq characters #lgbtq representation #lgbtq relationships #queer india #lgbtq in india #lgbtq india #lgbtqiia+ #lgbtqia+ #i'm in love with this idea

[herawell]

Tagged by @nocompromise-noregrets.

Rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag your friends.

bhaichara (Taare Zameen Par, Yohan & Rajan & Ishaan): Yohan reveres his father immensely.

anakaha (Mahabharata, Savitri/Satyavan): Savitri is hiding something from him.

naseem (Jodhaa Akbar, Jodhaa/Jalal): Jodhaa constantly glances at her husband out of the corner of her eye, even when she has no excuse to, and she hopes he does not notice her staring.

yuddhadhvana (Jodhaa Akbar, Jodhaa/Jalal): It is curiosity, really, and surprise, that has her watching for so long.

deft hands, black heart (Tudors, OT3 verse, Mary Tudor): Mother knows nothing.

met in grief and held together by its mud (Tudors, OT3, Mary & Pippa & Thomas): Pippa doesn’t trust any of her ladies-in-waiting.

diya (Ramayana, post-Uttarakanda, Rama): A single guttering candle is all Rama can abide while on his sickbed.

chandrodaya (Ramayana, Queen Regnant Sita AU): “And you’re just going to slink away in the night as he wishes?” Urmila’s words are loud enough to make Sita wince.

Liminal (Tudors, resurrection AU, Mary Tudor & Arthur Tudor): Of all the outcomes to the Blackfriars Trial, this was not one she had imagined!

setuka (Jodhaa Akbar, 5 Times, Jodhaa & Sujamal & Jodhaa/Jalal): It is not relief that sends Jodhaa collapsing onto the divan after Jalaluddin Muhammad agrees to the marriage, but shock and anger.

carapala (Ramayana, AU, OMC): Having finished his business at the tavern, Pradyut’s next stop is the nearest well.

abhyudaharana (Ramayana, Bharata/Mandavi): It is late afternoon when Mandavi pads into her husband's study.

Bedakhal (Kal Ho Naa Ho, Lajjo-bashing): Dadi always bemoans how very Western Mom is, how she doesn’t know how to cook Indian food, or how she worships Jesus, or how she failed to wash Dad’s feet enough.

calita (Ramayana, AU, Sita & Lakshmana): You will betray Rama for a woman.

zilaghana (Ramayana, Ahalya post-Indra): Gautauma does not blame her.

azvasana (Ramayana, Bharata): Bharata was never the center of attention, never the best-adored.

the world we live in is the world we live in (Tudors, OT3, Mary & Thomas & Anne): Soon after the Prince of Wales was born, Mary had begun to notice some subtleties.

bitter fruit (Tudors, OT3, Mary & Thomas): When Mary learns the truth of George’s paternity, she does not breathe a word of protest or censure.

every inch of ground i give (Tudors, OT3, Mary Tudor): The Church can be as opportunistic as any temporal king.

shadyantra (Ramayana, Lakshmana & Bharata): Chitrakoot is equal parts gloom and joy, in the wake of King Dasharatha’s funeral and the reunion of the rest of Kosala’s royal family.

Patterns: I tend to begin with very short sentences, usually ones that focus on some emotion a character is feeling. Except for the few longer sentences, and considering how long my sentences usually are, I'm surprised those aren't longer.

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this!

#ally talks #about me #things i was tagged in

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 26.12.20 lb

lmao there’s regretting having sex with someone stupid and then there’s THIS guy; poore bed aur bandiii ko hi aag lagaane ki koshish karr raha hai.

I HATE THE WAY VANSH TALKS. I HAAAAAAAAAATE IT. IT’S FUCKING RIDICULOUS AND I HATE IT AND THEY NEED TO STOP MAKING RRAHUL TALK LIKE THISSSSSSSSSSS.

anyway long story short, bhai ne tandoor chaalu kar diya.

she’s so fucking stupid, she just stood there waiting for the fire to surround her instead of escaping out the side that wasn’t on fire yet.

this bitch and her stupid fucking dreams. i’m sick of them, i tell you, i’m fucking sick of them. you know what, half the time vansh isn’t even doing anything wrong (other than being a fucking antisocial weirdo, and also really bad at communication) and this stupid show just makes us root against him because of this dumbass chick’s forever paranoid thought process. sis you need to fucking go to therapy already. you’re just ruining your own life and relationship and this poor dude’s sanity as well.

the real villain of this show.

ghar mein ek aur surprise. man.............. enough with the surprises. don’t y’all have a surprising life on a daily basis, tum extra kyun add karte rehte ho???????????/

requisite shady call to angre, which i’m not even gonna pay attn to anymore. for all we know, he’s just asking him to make sure the audits for the year are done on time.

where they get so many fucking outfit changes from for this one “surprise” day???? like, he didn’t leave the hospital/her side since she got shot, and they’ve had 3 outfit changes already. and here i haven’t changed outta the same pair of jammies for 3 days now.

Bitch-oo Babe (ahana) is calling again. and vansh is making faces again.

riddhima’s like WHAT YOU WANNA TELL ME WHAT YOU WANNA TELL ME WHAT YOU WANNA TELL ME WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU WANNA TELL ME. behen tum ek minute chup rahogi toh woh kuch bolein???????

network issues. LORD. WHO EVEN CARES. ITNA BADHAAA CHADHAAAA KE THEY’RE GONNA MAKE THIS CHARACTER INTRO AND I’M TELLING YOU IT’S GONNA BE ANOTHER PHUSKI BOMB.

shady ruse where he takes her phone on the pretext of not being able to find his and mutes the call from ahana. dude, it’s shit like this that makes it hard to root for you.

she’s like thank goddddddddddd vansh read my letter and accepted me with my truth blah blah. idiot. this is why you send it by whatsapp. at least you get blue tick confirmation ki usne padha. even then you should have a conversation about it. not just have assumed the letter is the end of the whole fucking issue.

of course. literally who is surprised?

ouff this family is so fucking extra. ek din hospital mein rehkar aayi hai, SARHAD SE NAHI LAUTI WOH!?!??!!!!!

LMAO WHEN I SAY THESE THREE SIBS ARE FOREVER THE BIGGEST MOOD..........................

this dude so tall ki what flowers dadi is throwing on R’s head is just reaching his chest level.

blah blah blah party tonight, coz we apparently live in a universe with no ongoing pandemic.

Chehra Appreciation Break.

this dumbass’s need to be a SANSAAAR KA BIG BROTHER isko le doobega. when you threw out anupriya and your relation with her, then kaahe ka half brother??????? kuch bhi. you just wanna collect max number of people to call you bhai.

riddhima also acting too fucking smart and jhaado-fying rob of being vansh’s wife. stupid.

can’t blame kabir for wanting to murder these smug assholes. we’re #teamKabir again, girls!

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh i’ve seen this outfit before. 

yup.

some more being a bloody weirdo. man he’s like those emo kids who never grew outta their ~~~edgy~~~ phase.

also i would fucking crotch-kick a man if he destroyed a perfectly good hairtie like this. BITCH YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT’S TO FIND GOOD QUALITY ONES???????? JUST COZ YOU’RE RICH DOESN’T MEAN YOU DO SUCH NONSENSE. A GOOD HAIRTIE IS SOMETHING YOU KEEP FOREVER AND ONLY HAND OVER TO A TREASURED SISTER WHO IS IN DIRE NEED OF ONE.

small cute moment. i love when riddhima mimics him!

oh boy, a internal monologue about teaching her a sabak at the party tho. oh vansh. why you gotta be like this???????/ 

vansh taking angre aside at the party and saying whoever’s trying to talk to riddhima is sure to show up here, so.......... taiyyaar rehna.

angre like “don’t worry, riddhima bhaabi ke paas koi anjaan nahi pohunch paayega.” ok but she’s always at threat of being murdered from the people she knows tho. so....................... idk how useful your security is gonna be.

as usual he’s saying nice but creepy shit. idk why she pays attn to his nonsense anymore.

Y’ALL NEED A RESIDENT ELECTRICIAN TO HANDLE ALL THESE RANDOM LIVEWIRES AROUND HERE, THAN ANY OTHER KINDA SUPPORT STAFF. THE FUCK IS THIS NONSENSE???????? (also, clearly vansh and kabir visit the same Torture&KillRiddhima reddit forum, since their plans are soooooooo similar.)

i’m so sick of him being like...............

pick a side and stick to it, you fucking coward.

anyway ahana’s making her way into the house. and security as usual, useless.

idhar useless tashan. why do you two even bother to talk to each other???? be like other exes, pretend the other one died and ignore everything about their presence.

riddhima being real overconfident and saying vansh ke hote hue not even deathhhhhh can touch me. yeah, i wouldn’t be so sure.

this sis really likes her stinging animal friends.

akjlakjfldskjfldskjflsdkjfl this dresssssss itselfffff they gave herrrrrrrrrrrrrr. haaaye bechaari mansiiiiiii. (i mean, i don’t feel TOO bad, coz this was the best dress of them all in that ep. of IB, but still yaaar. ek naya dress banwaa dete!)

dude. i ship it????? if riddhima HAS to be with some murderous psychopath, then i definitely pick a girl one over a boy one. girl psychos are just soooooooooo much fucking hotter. #teamRiHana

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

[legobiwan]

Whumptober #2

“pick who dies”

Notes: This got out of control. I was going to add an Obi-wan + Anakin section but I had to cut myself off as I do have other things I need to get to today. This is less whump than...a set of pretentious character studies with THE LINEAGE (including Rael) and an excuse to explore the trolley problem within a Star Wars setting. I blame my recent Hannibal obsession for what you see below. First part here, rest under the cut. Note, I am a musician, not a philosophy student, so allow for some creative interpretation here. 

General Whumptober tag

Whumptober 2020 #1

~~~~~~~

(excerpt from “The Padawan’s Guide to Philosophy.” Eds. Masters Thrife-Foran & Ugaaalich. 616th e. Coruscant, 940 ARR. Holobook.)

Premise:

You are out for an afternoon walk in the outer regions of Thymilla, a moderately-populated city on the planet Ungar. On your walk, you pass by a set of hovertrain tracks, which branch into two separate arms - one an extension of the main track, the other a smaller offshoot which leads to a cargo loading zone, about fifty clicks south of where you are. (Diagram 3)

As a hovertrain approaches from the north, you hear screaming, the words of the driver becoming clearer as the hovertrain barrels towards the switch. The brakes of the train have failed and there is no chance of repair. If the train continues on its current path, it will kill five workers making repairs on the track. If you pull a switch, the hovertrain will divert to the offshoot, where it will kill one worker at the cargo loading zone.

Because of an anomaly in Ungar’s atmosphere, you cannot access the Force.

Do you pull the switch or do nothing and allow the train to speed forward?

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan.”

Dooku shifted on his meditation pod, the firm material groaning as he uncrossed his legs from the lotus position, gingerly setting both his bare feet to the cool, tiled floor of his Master’s chambers. The young man allowed himself a small wince with the action. Yoda might have been able to keep that damnable position for hours, probably days on end, but Dooku was just a few months shy of his eighteenth life day, and another recent growth spurt seemingly focused all on his legs made sitting for any long amount of time…uncomfortable, to say the least.

Which was likely why Yoda had had him trapped him here for the past three hours, running through one ethical thought experiment after the other, poking his literal and metaphorical gimmer stick precisely at each gnarled and swollen joint in both his body and thoughts.

To act - to pull the switch - would mean to commit premeditated murder, even if it were for the greater good. Hardly a Jedi-like action. But then again, they had been taught - indoctrinated, really - with the idea that is was acceptable to sacrifice one life for the lives of many. A supposedly fair trade-off, although Dooku had seen enough of the Jedi’s relationship to the Senate, had seen enough of the Council’s internal politics, to know that two lives did not necessarily hold equal weight.

But to not act - to let the train barrel through, to leave it up to the will of the Force...Dooku clenched his teeth. That seemed more in line with the Order he was coming to know, was consistent with the Council’s lack of action on Protobranch, when Sifo-Diyas had seen the calamity that was to befall the planet and yet the Council, his Master, had done too little, too late, preferring to allow events to transpire as they would, the Jedi only impassive bystanders.

What was the point of their abilities, their training, their place in the universe, if they weren’t able to change the course of events for the better?

“I suppose,” Dooku began slowly, coming to stand, suddenly not caring if he was maintaining his proper meditation position. The young man padded towards the slightly shuttered windows on the other side of the room.

“I suppose it depends on the relative worth of each life,” he said, turning away from Yoda as to not see the subtle moue of distaste Dooku was certain would cross the old Master’s face.

“Is not all life sacred, Padawan?”

Dooku barely bit back the dark chuckle threatening to escape from his chest. Only in the holos and classrooms and the empty rhetoric of the Council was all life sacred. The Jedi could do so much more, he could do so much more to change the galaxy and yet the Order allowed itself to be chained to politicians, leashed like akk-dogs until receiving command.

No, Dooku thought. There was no balance - not here and not in the Force.

“From the information you’ve provided,” Dooku said, ignoring Yoda’s question. He peered through the slits of the rotor blinds into the watery illumination of Coruscant’s night sky. The dome of the Senate building rose through the rain like an oddly-shaped umbrella, shielding those in power with its wide beadth. “We can assume both parties of victims are of equal social standing, being manual laborers. Because of this, we must find other ways of determining their worth, their ability to enact change in the galaxy.”

Dooku clasped his hands behind his back, daring to turn to face his Master’s displeasure.

“The question becomes whether you want to hold sway over the transit network of a forgettable city, or the imports and exports that may go off-world. Exports which might include valuable resources or even smuggled goods. Items which could affect the governance of our imagined city and therefore, by extension, an even larger part of the populace.”

“Which is why, in this case,” Dooku concluded, his posture straightening, “I would choose to allow the hovertrain to continue its course and save the cargo worker.”

Yoda folded both claws over his gimmer stick, frowning. After a moment, he let out a small grunt, his features now inscrutable.

“And see yourself as the final arbiter of worth, do you, my young apprentice? Stand you above all others holding a golden scale, you do?”

Don’t we, as Jedi, hold these scales every day and yet choose to ignore them? Dooku thought.

“Someone,” the young man replied, “will make the judgment regardless. Is it not better for the Jedi to use our powers to make such decisions?”

This time Yoda did let out a wet sigh, shaking his head.

“Dangerous, these thoughts are, my Padawan,” Yoda grumbled, gesturing at the meditation pod. “Sit, young Dooku. Much we have to discuss.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Rael.”

Rael Averross slung an arm over the back of Dooku’s couch, sleeves of his Master’s borrowed robe hanging long near the tips of his fingers. It had been the third time that month Rael had “misplaced” his own robe, his Master’s foisted upon him in the wee hours of the morning, Dooku grunting something about “Jedi propriety” before shoving Rael out the door. (The things were a damned inconvenience, and made him look like something straight out of a space station ghost story, to boot. Was it so surprising he showed up to Dooku’s quarters in a state which his Master referred to as “half-naked?”)

Rael bit his lip, trying to not think of all the times he had actually been half-naked in the Temple. Those were fun times. Unfortunately, Dooku could probably mind read them out of him right now if he weren’t so concentrated on this thought experiment.

“Why not save them both?” Rael drawled amiably, scratching at the beginnings of a beard with his other hand as he hoped to distract his Master from any hint of his past indiscretions. It was about time, too, he thought. Never going to look my age going around all smooth-faced like a transparisteel window surface.

Dooku gave a small smile. “You cannot, Rael. Those are the rules of the scenario.”

“Rules,” Rael scoffed, picking at the hem of Dooku’s overly-fancy robe before suddenly launching to his feet, unable to contain his restlessness. The younger Jedi paced up and down the length of Dooku’s couch, grateful his usually strict Master was allowing him this indulgence. Not that Dooku had any problem sitting still for what felt like forever - stiff as a board, that one - but Rael was too jittery, too full potential energy to keep his thoughts in neat line with his body. “Rules are meant to be broken, Master,” Rael gave a swift chop with his hand in illustration. “You’re the first one to tell me that.”

Rael heard his Master let out a soft snort in response. Only Dooku could make such a noise sound dignified. “I suppose I did,” the older man answered evenly.

“So there you go! Blow up the train and everyone’s fine.”

“And kill the driver?”

Rael spun to face Dooku, the other man’s eyebrows raised not in condemnation, but genuine interest. It was days like this Rael truly appreciated having Dooku as a Master. Sure, he was as pretentious as any big-city Senator, a hard taskmaster in his lessons, and an even tougher dueling trainer - but at the end of the day, Dooku only expected Rael to follow Dooku’s rules, and not the Order’s.

And as much as Rael chaffed under any collar, he’d take Dooku’s version of the Code over the Council’s any day.

“I mean, the driver is the one in control of the train,” Rael shrugged. “Sure, it’s an accident, but the they were going to be dead either way once they hit those other bodies. Probably would go flying through the window and bash their skull in. This way, you save six lives,” Rael gave his best used speeder salesman grin. “Buy five, get one free.”

That little addition did cause his Master to roll his eyes.

“You are…” Dooku pressed his lips together, sitting back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. It was as close as Dooku ever got to a casual posture. “Colorful rhetoric aside, you are essentially advocating for pre-emptive action. Very interesting, Rael.”

“Interesting as in,” Rael pulled a sour face, imitating Dooku’s proper Serennian accent, “‘And now I will assign you five Jedi moral precepts to memorize and write a five-page essay about’ or interesting as in ‘I will now have you learn the complete codified law of the Umbargans, whose entire military strategy revolved around non-preemptive attacks.”

Dooku chuckled - actually chuckled - at Rael’s minor impertinent outburst. “Neither, Rael. Although, I must say you have provided me the perfect means by which I may punish you later on.” Damn, dug my own grave with that one, thought Rael. 

“No,” Dooku continued, “I merely find your stance on this matter to be refreshingly…original.”

“You mean the Council wouldn’t approve?”

It took his Master a full minute to answer, his gaze shifting beyond Rael, beyond the confines of their shared quarters, Dooku seeming lost in some memory.

“Hardly,” he finally said. “And that is for the best.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan?”

Qui-gon Jinn sat motionless on the small patch of grass, listening to the susurrations of the light breeze in the Room of a Thousand Fountains finger through a nearby thicket of Borto reeds. Across from him, Master Dooku sat in a mirrored pose, long legs crossed over the other in the lotus position, expression unreadable, his presence in the Force - or, his effect on the Force presence on the vegetation around him - one of controlled expectancy, a single blade of grass erect and ready despite the buffeting winds.

“We shouldn’t have to choose, Master,” Qui-gon replied, trying to steady his own uneven thoughts and emotions. Although he had been Dooku’s Padawan for almost five years now, Qui-gon still found himself worrying his responses to thought experiments like these would not pass his Master’s high and stringent intellectual standards.

“In an ideal world, Qui-gon, we wouldn’t. But as you have learned - as I have shown you - the status quo rarely measures up to our ideals.”

The status quo, Qui-gon thought. Code for the Senate, for the Council, for the Republic at large. That much he had figured out, had learned from Rael, whose ability to translate Dooku’s sometimes opaque rhetoric to something more digestible never ceased to amaze Qui-gon.

The status quo. The more years he spent with Dooku - with Rael, when the younger man was around - the more Qui-gon understood. Perhaps he always had a predilection to question, to challenge what was “known,” the dictums etched in stone handed down from the Council to the Council’s Masters to its Padawans. But with Dooku’s guidance, and with his own exploration of the Jedi prophecies, Qui-gon had developed his own sense of right and wrong, of how the galaxy ought to work in consonance with the ideals of the Jedi Code and his own moral compass.

“In that case, I would ask the Force for guidance,” Qui-gon replied, thoughts slipping back to the many hours he had spent in the Archives, poring over ancient holocrons. The Force had provided for the seers of old, why shouldn’t it provide now?

“Perhaps the Force cannot provide all the answers,” Dooku countered, as if reading his mind.

Qui-gon frowned, tilting his head. “Is that not what the Jedi teach, Master? What you teach? To follow the Force?”

“To a degree,” Dooku assented, rare amusement curling the side of his lips. “But the Jedi work in symbiosis with the Force, and even that is within a certain self-imposed definition of what the Force may or may not be capable of.”

Self-imposed definition? Qui-gon ran his hands through the soft grass at his sides, no longer able to keep that perfect stillness now that Dooku had so upset his equilibrium. Had his study of the prophecies not proven that exact point? That the Jedi of now no longer regarded the Force with as open a mind those of millennia ago?

“The Force is more infinite, has more potentialities than the confines of what we could possibly hope to study in a thousand lifetimes,” Qui-gon hedged.

“And so you hope to use prophecy to save these doomed beings?” Dooku retorted with a small wave of his hand. Ah yes, the hovertrain problem, Qui-gon grimaced. He had almost quite forgotten about the whole reason for this conversation.

“I would hope to…” Qui-gon cocked his head, watching a pair of butterflies flutter over a Byrsonima crassifolia, fragile leaves fluttering in their wake. An action - or a lack of action. If he saved one life or saved five. What would the repercussions be? How could he know he was making the right choice? How could the Order know, if not for guidance from the Force, in all its possible iterations?

And yet, the study prophecy of was considered at best, an esoteric hobby - at worst, a dangerous arm of mysticism by much of the Council.

Which is why your Master encourages you to think beyond the dictates of the Council, Qui-gon concluded.

“Yes, then,” Qui-gon stated, suddenly more confident in his answers. “I would hope to ameliorate the situation by using a similar mindset of the prophets. One of openness, wonder, and possibility - to find my way in this situation.”

“And just how far would you be willing to take supposed,” Dooku trained him with an enigmatic expression, “openness?” The word weighed heavy with implication.

Qui-gon started. What exactly is Dooku trying to get at here? Hadn’t it been his Master who had introduced him to the prophecies, to the Force beyond the dictates of the Code? So far, Dooku had not steered him wrong, and yet just as the nearby Byrsonima crassifolia cast a long shadow over the open grass, so did Dooku’s unspoken entreaty.

But before Qui-gon could cobble together an answer, Dooku seemed to break out of his trance, chuckling slightly as he got to his feet. He extended a long arm to Qui-gon, who took it without hesitation, coming to stand at his Master’s side.

“Meditate on the answer, Qui-gon. For now, I believe it is past time for dinner.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan.”

Obi-wan Kenobi shifted in the overly-large, overly-plush velvet chair which threatened to swallow him whole. He and Qui-gon had been dispatched to Barstovia, a little-known desert mining planet in the Mid-Rim. A simple mission, really, overseeing a trade deal between Barstovia and Ord Mantell, opening up some shipping lines of the rare fermenium mineral to the Republic. A wholly forgettable mission, if Obi-wan were being honest, except for the fact the diminutive race of Barstovia seemed to prize, of all the unlikely things, oversized, over-upholstered furniture.

While Obi-wan struggled with a crimson throw pillow the size of his torso, his master, Qui-gon Jinn, sat across from him, perfectly serene in his eight-foot tall, royal blue armchair.

“Well, Master,” Obi-wan said, words strained as he punched the pillow to his side with un-Jedi-like ferocity. Of all times for Qui-gon to pull out a thought experiment.

“The prevailing wisdom would say to sacrifice one life to save five - a utilitarian outlook and the most practical, at least on the surface.” Obi-wan pushed down on the seat of his chair, trying in vain to straighten his posture, to lend his answer some form of credence beyond his words. Inevitably, Qui-gon would hold the exact opposite opinion from Obi-wan’s, and while Obi-wan had often kept his feelings to himself under the guise of “picking his battles,” he preferred to express his thoughts while at least looking the part of an almost eighteen-year-old Padawan, and not some child stuck in a chair too large for him.  He struck at the recalcitrant cushion one last time. “But as Jedi, we often prioritize a single being or beings if they hold an important role.” 

“In the short-term,” Obi-wan grimaced suddenly, pulling an impossible second pillow from under his right thigh, “we would lose four lives over one, granted. But in the long-term, that single life lost might mean the eventual deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands.”

“But you do not have this information, Padawan,” Qui-gon replied, a crease of annoyance in his brow. Obi-wan noted there was no accompanying crease in the cushion of his Master’s chair. “All you know is the number of beings.”

Obi-wan bit down on a caustic reply. Yes, I know that, Master. I hadn’t gotten to my point yet. But when did Qui-gon actually ever listen to him?

“Yes, Master, this is true,” the younger Jedi answered, Obi-wan impressed with the evenness of his own response despite his increasing irritation. “Which is why I would endeavor to save them all.”

A beat. a raised eyebrow coupled with a subtle sigh. “Quite the feat, Obi-wan,” Qui-gon finally said, his words laced with skepticism. “How would you accomplish such a thing?”

How in the world is he not drowning in that chair? Obi-wan thought, distracted by his Master’s impenetrability, despite the audacious situation. There was Qui-gon, halfway across the room, composed and neat - well, as neat as Qui-gon ever got - against the regal backdrop of the humorously-sized chair while Obi-wan floundered in a sea of crimson, just out of his Master’s reach.

And wasn’t that the perfect metaphor for their troubled partnership?

Obi-wan wiped at his brow. “It’s quite simple, Master. The hovertrain could be diverted, or at least impeded by a third party inserting themselves into the equation.”

Something in Qui-gon’s expression shifted at the statement, earlier annoyance now melting into something closer to concern. The older man leaned forward in his chair, for the first time exhibiting a pang of discomfort as he battled the voluminous material.

“And who might that be?” Qui-gon asked, batting at the tsunami of beige woven blanket at his side.

“Myself, of course.”

Dead silence met Obi-wan’s words.

Wrong answer, Kenobi. Absolutely the wrong answer. Disappointment was written all over Qui-gon’s body language, even emanating from his usually controlled Force signature. Obi-wan fell back into the chair, not bothering to fight the dunes and valleys of velvet threatening to overtake him, averting his gaze to some preposterously-sized side-table and vase. Hopefully, his failure to provide the correct response would be the end of this increasingly uncomfortable conversation. Qui-gon would assign him some reading and meditation, and let the matter rest until they returned to Coruscant.

But Qui-gon only peered at Obi-wan with a piercing stare, apparently not ready to give up on the exchange.

“You would sacrifice yourself to save the others?”

Obi-wan found himself mirroring his master’s movements.

“Isn’t that what it means to be a Jedi?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “We are servants of the Republic, of the Force - if our actions can save lives so that Republic may continue in peace - “ Obi-wan’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form the words that would express his devotion to the Order, the Code, his own sense of honor - but found himself gaping like an Ithorian cuttlefish.

Once again, Qui-gon fell into contemplation, back arching against tall, bulbous pillows, brushing his mustache with a single finger. A minute, then two went by, the only sound the clicks of a nearby chrono. Over eighteen feet tall, the clicks sounded more like the steps of a lurking gundark than a timepiece, doing nothing for Obi-wan’s nerves.

Finally, Qui-gon broke the uncomfortable semi-silence. “Don’t be so hasty to throw away your own life, Padawan. As you rightly said, the death of a monarch may cause the deaths of many others down the road. But you cannot know how many lives would remain unsaved if you were to treat your own so lightly.”

Obi-wan’s eyebrows rose. That had not been the reaction he was expecting.

“But how am I to know when that sacrifice is necessary?” he asked automatically. Obi-wan would make that sacrifice gladly, although...to be perfectly honest, he would prefer not to die as a seventeen-year-old Padawan. 

“The better question is how you can work to reach a more productive option rather than coming to such a dire conclusion.” Qui-gon’s voice softened. “I am serious, Obi-wan. You have much to offer the galaxy. Don’t let your strict adherence to Jedi ideals extinguish your star too early. Not only would the Republic be at a loss, but…” Qui-gon looked away, staring down at some invisible pattern in the corner of the room. “I would, as well.”

Obi-wan’s mouth dropped open. “Master, I - “

“Ah, Master Jedi!” A new voice squeaked from the gargantuan entranceway. “Thank you so much for waiting,” proclaimed the three-foot Minister of Commerce, Parhary Hatch, bedecked in a long, flowery robe whose velvet train stretched back several feet. “Please, if you would,” he gestured towards the tall archway.

“Yes, of course, Minister Hatch,” Qui-gon replied in his diplomatic voice, jumping neatly off the chair, his landing as elegant as a Coruscanti ice skater.

Obi-wan frowned, joining his Master in a slightly less dignified, but no less effective maneuver. They had been on the verge of…something, some kind of understanding, or at least a truce. Whatever words had remained unsaid between would likely stay so, the moment gone, the trip back to Coruscant, and then to a Hutt outpost taking priority over these types of conversations.

Another time, then, Obi-wan sighed to himself, following the slinking violet trail of the Bartovian minister and his Master into the long corridors of the palace.

#whumptober #whumptober 2 #obi wan kenobi #count dooku #yan dooku #rael averross #qui gon jinn #pretentious bullshit #the trolley problem #writing #the eternal struggle #well this happened #i did have fun making up the alien culture for the last bit though #points to anyone who catches the references in the planet name and minister name

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi!

17, 19, 21 for Payal and Aakash for the OTP asks please?

Sorry I'm being so greedy!

Hello!

Haha no no I like greedy people XD And thank you for enthusiastically taking part in the OTP asks!

17) What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

Akash: Busy markets, fabrics, chikankari, potatoes, diyas, sunrise, incense, kajal, silver, zardozi and love remind him of Payal

Payal: white, doves, lenses, chandeliers, embers, fireworks, fresh water, clean linen, ittr, comfort and home remind her of Akash

19) If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

Akash: "If life gets to us, then remind me, I was never happier than the day you agreed to marry me."

Payal: "I will always be with you Akash, no matter what happens."

21) How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

For worse

As we saw in the show, the lack of privacy and their utter dedication to their family can make them grow apart as they have no time for each other.

Since they both know they love and chose each other, they forget that they still need to learn about each other and need to communicate - they both overestimate the other's understanding.

For better

Akash has really grown into his own post marriage. Especially with Payal. He realises focusing on self isn't a bad thing. His sense of humor has increased (given how much he loves Payal's laughs). And finally, he has become more expressive. Also, he has stopped blaming others or putting responsibilities of events on others and focuses more on what he can do.

Payal has learned to communicate - demand conversations if necessary. She is less hurt, knows how much weight to give to events. She does not hide anything from Akash and is more resolute about what she instinctively feels right.

Thanks for asking :D

Lots of love,

- JWB

#ipkknd #payash #payal #akash #ask #ambidextrousarcher #otp ask meme 2 #probably the most realistic couple

[elvenladysakura]

~Chaar Kadam~

02

Revelation

The grandeur of her new home dawns belatedly. By the time the last door closes, bolts turn over the point of no return Amrit is numb against the pounding of her heart. True to his word, Veer doesn't even glance at her. Instead he covers the distance across his room in a couple of strides and pushes open a door she hadn't noticed before.

"Sometimes," he says with a quirk of a bitter smile. "Old customs solve unexpected trouble. Your room." He indicates. "Parampara hai, that here spouses keep their separate rooms. We are separated but by a door, you may lock it if you wish." He waits until she had joined him at the threshold, until she grasps the handle. Gripping the door in a white knuckled grip, he turns to her - all traces of smile gone. "But, don't you dare leave. Don't you dare!"

She winces a little, when the door rattles and raw skin on her palm stings. Amrit notices the pain just then. Opening her palm she notices the burn left behind by that electric wire she had accidentally electrocuted herself with. The stinging red line along her palm sears in the cold air.

"You have mehendi on your hands," Veer observes as he moves away from the door leaving it open for her to remove herself to the other room if she wants to. "Kya hum pooch sakte hai kiyun?"

"I was supposed to marry today," she tells him, wondering if it was finally the time to face his ire, lift her pardha and be done with it once and for all.

He stops shuffling through one of his drawers.

"Chod diya usse? Bhaag aayi?"

The sharp edge to his tone makes her flinch.

"Nahi!" She protests. "Something happened. I - I got hurt and lost consciousness. Kher," she turns away. "Aap humara yakeen kyun kare. I have nowhere to go, hence I've agreed to this arrangement. Does it ease your heart to hear that? Don't blame people when you aren't aware of their side of the story Kuwar sahab. Kya patha your fiancee might be in a similar situation somewhere? Kya patha, she wanted to keep her word but circumstances were against her? Kya patha if she's alright or not? But no, aap ko toh goli maarni hai!"

She fumbles over her words in agitation and turns to find him closer than she had anticipated. During her rant Amrit did not notice him approaching. She tugs down her pardha self consciously, praying he could not see through the flimsy layer in these dim lights.  Veer watches her curiously, if not suspiciously. She holds his gaze, knowing full well he couldn't see the defiance in her eyes. But it feels like a little victory to keep her head up and meet his gaze. Equals, for a change.

"Haat do," he says.

Amrit is startled.

"Give - me - your - hand," he repeats, each word paused with emphasis.

Confused and a little cautious Amrit unfolds her palm. Veer places a little container of yellowish paste on her upturned palm.

"For your burn. Put it on, before going to sleep. Now, there's a circus scheduled for tomorrow. So I advice an early night."

He stalks away, digging out a hip flask from his pocket and taking a deep swig from it. It is the last Amrit sees of her make believe husband before the door joining their rooms closes behind him. She remains on that spot for a moment longer, unsure, unsettled and disturbed, staring at the tiny container of medicine lying innocently on her palm.

**

#cross ship #mini fic #kiyun utthe dil chhod aaye #Veer #Amrit #Amveer #chaar kadam #paper trails #part 2