#I watched it in tamil I’m not sure if they used the same word in all languages

[midjomolstad]

The way every time someone mentioned “young boy” in ponniyin selvan they were actually referring to actors who were literally 45 and 55 years old like

[newtonsheffield]

Guys, we need to talk about something.

It's very important.

It's Edwina + Mary + Anthony +Their Love of Great British Bakeoff

Kate liked cooking, she really did, some of her best memories were of her sitting in the kitchen with her Dad while he rattled off lists of ingredients to Mary in Tamil, both of them moving around the kitchen in sync, Kate always a step behind watching the beautiful chaos a little awed. And perhaps it wasn't flattering, but she loved when Anthony cooked. Not just because it made her feel loved and cared for that he'd go to the effort of all of this, just for her, but because he looked so ridiculously hot while doing it. He always had his sleeves rolled up, a neat apron on and his brow furrowed while he laboured away in the kitchen, the temperature hiking not only because of the stove. Yes, Anthony Bridgerton was ridiculously hot when he cooked. What was very not hot, was how much he loved The Great British Bakeoff.

It had started at brunch one Sunday, Mary and Edwina unpacking the latest episode while Mary flipped pancakes same as they always did when a season was airing, Kate mostly tuning it out. For all her love of cooking, competition baking shows weren't really her thing. She'd been sitting at the table, her legs thrown over Anthony's whispering something, perhaps a little too filthy, in his ear given her Mother and Sister were only a few feet from them, when he suddenly said Are you guys talking about Bakeoff?! Edwina had practically spun off her chair at Anthony's excited tone, Mary's spatula frozen halfway to the pan. Yes? She said lightly. Anthony leapt into the conversation surprising Kate What do you guys think of this new round of bakers? I think Lottie's obviously hilarious and I'm sure Laura's tastes good but her presentation is sloppy at best. Mary was still staring open mouthed, Edwina practically agog. Kate recovered first, What the fuck Anthony? Anthony turned towards her a little surprised Do you not like Bakeoff? He was clearly equally affronted. Kate opened her mouth to respond, a little surprised., but Edwina got there first. Sadly she's a heathen, every family has to have a disappointment. Mary hummed sympathetically though turned to Anthony clearly falling a little more in love with the idea of him as Kate's boyfriend than she already was, Now Anthony, have you ever made battenberg? And while Kate couldn't help but feel she'd slipped into a parallel universe as Anthony leapt into a description of the time that he had in fact made a battenberg cake, she had to admit, it was a little nice to see him interacting with her family this effortlessly.

Mary Sheffield wouldn't say she was necessarily intimidated by Anthony Bridgerton, but he was an imposingly successful person, for so young a man. He was tall, and a little disarmingly attractive particularly when he smiled with his entire face as he did when he looked at Kate, and he seemed so oddly formal all the time, perhaps a habit from his upbringing. It wasn't that she thought he was an unkind man, in fact she was rather attached to the idea of him being the father of her grandchildren one day, but the very last thing she expected him to say when he sidled up next to her at the end of brunch one day was Mary, I ahh I know that you usually watch bake off with Eddie, and I don't want to intrude or insert myself into your family God I wish you would, you can marry Kate tomorrow Mary had thought a little wildly, But I would be very honoured if you would maybe consider watching it at my house sometime. Um you and Eddie can both come, and Kate will be there, and I'll make dinner! He'd finished, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them, eager and he looked so young and excited that Mary's own heart had done an odd little flutter at her daughter's boyfriend being so sweet that he would sit and watching a baking show with her. Oh Anthony that sounds wonderful, Eddie and I will come this week. And the smile that had crossed his face was so breathtaking that Mary didn't have to wonder why Kate had fallen in love with him at all. And surely enough she arrived at Anthony's that week to find the table ladened with food, and a slightly confused looking Kate whose eyes flitted between them as they discussed the show and the techniques used. Mary had pulled Kate into a tight hug as she'd left whispering Katie, he's a very sweet man. You should marry him. in her ear at the end and despite the fact that Kate looked away embarrassedly she'd whispered I'll try.

Really, over the years, Kate had gotten almost used to the mania that engulfed Anthony during bakeoff season. The fact that he spent all week perfecting whatever the technical challenge had been to present at brunch on Sunday, or that he tutted and sighed whenever his favourite contestant left, and at least she had Matt now who despite being an expert baker himself was only so so on the show itself though he was rather more enamoured with Edwina's love of it that Kate was of Anthony's. But it really got out of hand when Edwina won celebrity Bake off, and presented the trophy to Anthony. That trophy became the bane of Kate's existence. It sat, in their Kitchen, in pride of place, right where a picture of the two of them used to rest, and while he would never admit to it, she knew he polished it regularly. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me He said proudly when he looked at it, Kate scoffing bemusedly. Anthony we have two children together. Anthony shrugged. Indignation flared in Kate's chest. If you could only do one thing: Take me and the boys to Disneyland which you know Edmund's desperate to do or go on Bakeoff what would it be? Anthony barely looked at her as he said Don't do this Kate, You'll only upset yourself.

[captainscanadian]

Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Janmashtami)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: When you were younger, you had always dreamed of falling in love with someone who would love you like Lord Krishna loved Radha. A dream that once felt as though it was silly no longer felt that way. 

Word Count: 4400+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader

Warnings: MINIMAL TAMIL SONG LYRICS (I’m more than happy to translate!) & TAMIL CULTURE, References to Hinduism, PTSD, Insomnia, Endgame References.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles​‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. I hope everyone had a wonderful Janmashtami. Along with Lord Krishna himself, it’s also @jalapenobarnes​‘ birthday this weekend so please go shower Saran with all the love. This one’s for you, my chellam! <3 Pics are off of Pinterest! 

Bucky Barnes watched curiously as he sat cross-legged on the tiled floor of your living quarters, splashing a handful of water on the bright green banana leaf that you had laid out in front of him. 

Even though your apartment had a designated dining room with an oak wood table and chairs, he wondered why you preferred to be eating on the living room floor. Not to mention the way you had chosen to serve him on a banana leaf than a plate. 

As much as he found it bizarre, he was also curious about the traditions that you seemed to follow. Not just through the way you ate your meals, but also the way you honored your dead best friend and the way you had filled your apartment with idols and paintings of your Hindu God. It came as a surprise to him that someone as young and well-educated as yourself could even hold onto the traditions that you had been raised with despite having settled away from your home for years. 

Bucky had been surprised to find that as the decades had progressed, traditions had evolved with the emergence of a post-modern society. The way people had practiced religion had also evolved with time, but the way you practiced yours seemed to be the same as the way his own mother had practiced hers back in the day. 

You did not conform to modern life for the sake of it, and he found that inspiring. The old Bucky who had always been fascinated by all that science had to offer would probably disagree with you. But having lived a whole century as one of HYDRA’s science experiments made him wish that he could return to the pre-modern society that he had been born into. He hated confirming with the status quo as much as the next guy, but seeing you made him realize that he did not need to force himself to confirm either. He could be himself, as long as he could figure out who exactly he was meant to be. 

“According to my grandmother, eating off of a banana leaf is a lot more healthier than eating off of a plate. Apparently the nutrients in the leaf can mix with the food.” You explained to him as you served him some of the rice, careful not to overcrowd the banana leaf. You knew that he was unfamiliar with the dishes, but also appreciated that he was willing to try out a new cuisine at this witching hour. “She said that it’s good for the immune system, prevents intestinal ulcers, skin diseases… soothes the stomach, helps with digestion and prevents kidney stones.” 

He nodded, understandably. “Right…” He agreed, not having the heart to tell you that the super soldier serum in his body ensured that his cells would constantly regenerate and prevent him from falling ill. Nevertheless, he found your endearment quite refreshing. You really did treat him like he was Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th and not the Winter Soldier, and he was grateful for that. 

“We’re used to eating off of the leaf during special occasions or when we have guests.” You added. “There’s a Buddhist and Hindu philosophy... Atithi Devo Bhava. It literally means that the guests must be given the same respect as you would give to your Gods. And since you’re my guest tonight, you get the banana leaf.” 

“I’m no God, Y/N.” Bucky clarified, sighing as he ran his metal hand through his greasy hair. “I’m a human being, a brainwashed assassin, a weapon of destruction who brought so much pain in people’s lives. I don’t deserve to be treated with so much respect.” 

“Bucky…” You frowned at his words before shaking your head. “As the one who spent most of my life studying the life of Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th, I beg to differ. I know that you have a lot of internalized guilt about those days and I don’t blame you for that. But you can’t let the Winter Soldier define who you are. You’re more than who you used to be when you were brainwashed. It wasn’t who you were.” 

“To be honest, I don’t even think I know who I am anymore…” He admitted, a truth that he hadn’t told anyone else at the compound but felt that he could trust you with.. “But I know for sure that I don’t deserve to be respected like you respect your God.” 

“You should let me be the judge of that. My concept of God is actually quite different from the Abrahamic religions that you happen to be familiar with.” You protested with a soft chuckle, crossing your legs to sit across from him. “My grandmother once told me that Lord Krishna… being the God of love and compassion, he’s always present in one’s heart. Wherever there’s love, he’s always there. If there’s love in your heart, he’s there. And that makes you just as Godly as anyone else.”  

“I’m the world’s longest prisoner of war who spent most of my life imprisoned in a cryofreezer. There’s nothing Godly about the life that I’ve had to live.” He shook his head. “If anything, I’m a symbol of pain and suffering.” 

“Well, Lord Krishna was born in prison.” You remarked. “His life was meant to be filled with so much love… It started on Janmashtami, in a prison cell where his parents were locked up by his own maternal uncle. Even in all that pain and suffering, the betrayal that Lord Krishna’s parents had to face… they were blessed with a child who was the incarnate of the supreme God himself. All that pain and suffering led to some kind of reward, and I’m sure you’ll get yours in due time. Sri Krishna never discriminates, and he forgives those who are truly remorseful of their sins. He’s the God of compassion after all.” 

Bucky could not help but chuckle softly at your words. For every word of self-hatred that came out of his mouth, you had your own rebuttal that was rooted in your faith. He was left with no choice but to accept his defeat and give in to being treated as your guest for the night. It was the least he could do other than make use of that computer he had been given to catch up with the world by looking up Lord Krishna. “So, what’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Okay!” You exclaimed, pointing to the rice dish that you had placed in the center of the leaf. “Ven pongal, basically made from rice and yellow lentils. It’s also got some peppercorns, cumin, turmeric, ginger, curry leaves and cashews that I fried in some clarified butter. That’s why it smells so good. Don’t worry about the spices though. This is probably the mildest dish I’ve ever eaten in my life.” 

Bucky nodded as he looked up at you. “Do you make this often?”

“It’s a traditional breakfast food in South India, but it also makes for the ultimate comfort food when I’m missing home.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders before grabbing the bowl of sambar and pouring it over the rice. “Now this might be a little spicy for you. But it’s the side dish of all side dishes. Sambar, basically a mixed vegetable stew with lentils and spices. Great with most South Indian breakfast foods.” 

“And what about the rest?” He asked as he eyed the remainder of the delicacies that you had laid out before him. He could not deny that the warm aroma that wafted up his nostrils made them much more appetizing. Despite it being past midnight, he was starved. 

“Medhu vada… deep fried lentil fritters, coconut chutney to dip ‘em in… and kesari, dessert made from semolina.” You pointed to the items as you placed them on the banana leaf. “I hope you don’t mind eating with your hand. We don’t really use utensils and I kind of forgot to pick some up. If it makes you feel any better, the right hand is commonly used to eat so…” You motioned towards his hand. “Dig in?”

He raised his eyebrow at your words. “I guess that was very convenient for me.” He joked before looking down at the food and back at you. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”

You chuckled softly before shrugging at his question. “It’s alright, Bucky. I can eat after you. It’s not polite to eat before the guest.”

“Y/N, come on… you just said that you made all of this food because you were feeling homesick. I can’t eat all of this without you.” He clarified with a smile. 

You looked down at your lap in embarrassment as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I kind of only bought one banana leaf because I thought I would be the one eating all of this food.” You told him, shamelessly. “I didn't think I would have company, not that I don’t want you here or anything. I invited you to eat but… my grandmother says it’s rude to eat right out of the serving bowls if you’re going to be serving the food to someone else. I don’t mind waiting until you’re done and helping myself to your leftovers.” 

A part of him could not believe how bound you were to your grandmother’s words, especially when it came to your dining etiquette. Despite the fact that your grandmother had been someone to hold you back from your potential, he admired that you still respected her enough to follow through with the culture that she had taught you. 

“Fine, then if you don’t mind…” He reached down to grab a dollop of the pongal and sambar with his thumb and two fingers, carefully holding his hand up towards your mouth. “Let me at least feed you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his gesture and you found your cheeks heating up in embarrassment once again. “Um…” You gulped, not knowing how to react to that. A part of you wanted to accept his offer, but the pitter patter against your heart mimicked the rain against your window and caused you to become very nervous. 

As much as you had denied it when you were around the rest of the team, you knew that you did have a slight crush on Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th Infantry Regiment when you had first watched through the archival footage from the war. After all, who wouldn’t. At that time, you had believed that he was dead so it didn’t mean much. But now he was very much alive and sitting right before you. He was certainly a good looking man who’s smile could light up the world, and unbeknownst to you he had just lit up yours. 

You had spent years studying his life, along with the rest of The Howling Commandos, in the name of academic curiosity. But you could not deny that now seeing him in person changed how you really felt about this man. Not many people who studied historical figures had the chance to see them face to face. But this had happened to you twice now, and it still felt surreal. Bucky Barnes really was sitting on the floor of your living quarters, about to feed you a bite of your most favourite South Indian comfort food. What kind of idiot would you be not to accept it? 

You accepted the bite of food that Bucky had offered you, bringing your hand over to cover your mouth as you chewed. Your lips curling into a small smile as your eyes glazed over, you looked down at your lap. 

For some reason, eating from this man’s hand had made you miss your father quite so much. Seven years it had been since he had passed away. You never even got to say goodbye, the last time you had spoken on the phone being an argument that you had ended abruptly by hanging up on him. Had you known what was going to happen just hours later, you would have done things differently. You would have cherished the last moments you got to share with your father. Hell, you would have even prevented him from dying the way he did. But it was all too late now. 

Perhaps you suffered from internalized guilt just as much as the super soldier who sat before you, for you did feel partially responsible for your father’s death. Being an agent who was meant to save the world and all, you couldn’t even manage to save your own father. While this did once make you doubt your skills as an agent, you could not deny that you would give anything to be able to do right by the man who had raised you to be anything more than a typical Indian farm girl. But for now, all you had to do was exist for the sake of existing and accept the position that you had been given. Do the right thing, just as your father had taught you. 

When you had been five years old, your grandmother had told you the story of how Lord Krishna was married to more than sixteen thousand women. She had told you that he married every woman who loved him. He loved them back just as much too, being the God of love after all. But the woman he loved the most, he hadn’t even been married to her. Radha Rani was the love of his life. She was his soulmate. Despite not being married, their love for each other was so pure and eternal. 

It was then you told your father, in your childish little voice, “Appa, I want someone to love me like Lord Krishna loved Radha.” 

Now as you swallowed the bite that Bucky Barnes had fed you, you couldn't help but look over his broad shoulders. Up on the wall behind him you had hung one of the many paintings of Radha and Krishna that you owned. But in that particular one, Radha and Krishna were affectionately gazing into each other’s eyes while feeding each other. 

It didn’t seem like a sign to you then, but you prayed for some things to be made clearer in due time. After all, you were going to be here for a while. If Lord Krishna was really going to bless you with the kind of love that makes you blue after all of that pain and suffering, then you might as well accept it like you had just accepted that bite of food from Bucky. 

“Tell me the truth, Bucky.” You looked over at the man who sat next to you on the couch, his legs crossed as he leaned against the armrest. “Why are you even up at this hour?” 

Bucky Barnes looked over at you and let out a sigh, not knowing if lying to you about his insomnia would sell. After all, you seemed to know him better than he knew himself despite the fact that you had met just yesterday. While he feared that admitting the truth would cause you to become weary of him, he knew better than to lie to the woman who was in a position of authority. He had to be transparent with you, mainly because he didn’t have the heart to lie to you. 

“I can’t sleep.” He admitted, biting down on his bottom lip as he sat up straight, his elbows resting against his thighs as he covered his face with his hands. “I haven’t slept properly in a while, ever since I moved into the compound really. Every night I go to bed at a reasonable time. But I still end up waking up at this strange hour because of some nightmare.” 

Leaning over to rest your hand on his shoulder, you wanted to give him a squeeze. But you were quick to realize that his left shoulder was vibranium, so instead you moved your hand to rub his back. “Have you talked to Sam about it?” 

Not that you would assume that his friendship with Sam was anything like his friendship with Steve. As someone who had your own demons, you knew that it was not that easy to confide in someone about something like this. But you were well aware that Sam had some experience offering support groups to veterans who suffered from PTSD during his time working at the VA back in DC. He seemed to be much more equipped to handle something like this than you were, no doubt about that. But since you were now the boss around here, you knew that something needed to be done to address the mental health of your heroes.  

Bucky shook his head. “He’s always been weary of me, Y/N. I don’t think I should worry him about this. The last thing I want is for anyone to think that the Winter Soldier is still in me when he’s not.” 

“Sam can be an asshole at times… but he means well. He cares a lot about his friends, and that includes you and me.” You admitted. “But I know what you mean. What you’re going through, it’s not easy. You’ve had to deal with a lifetime’s worth of torture under HYDRA, along with the whole thing with the blip. The world has changed so much that it’s not all that easy to keep up with anymore.” 

He looked up at you and frowned. “I feel so lost, you know? Like I don’t know where I should start. I’ve missed out on seventy years of… life. The life that I knew before the war is gone and the life that I had since then… is full of torture and bloodshed. I’m just lost in the midst of it all.”

“Bucky, you do know that… if you ever want to talk about anything that has to do with history or what happened in the world during those seventy years, you can just talk to me about it, right? I may have a Master’s degree on The Howling Commandos but I do know a thing or two about what happened in the world after the war.” You offered, finally cracking a smile. “I can definitely help you out with catching up with times.” 

He chuckled softly at your words. “Is that how you and Steve… became friends?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the mention of Captain America, a man whom you had respected and aided in the recovery of until Natasha had decided to set the two of you up on a date. It was a brief fling while the two of you had worked together in DC. But once you had realized it wasn’t going to work, you had ended things amicably. While you had remained friends and you had helped him catch up with the world, things had changed so much around you. 

“Yeah, I guess.” You admitted with a shrug. “He needed someone to catch him up to the world and Fury realized that he hired a history major. I think it worked out for all of us.” Looking back now, you only felt blessed to have known Steve Rogers. He was not only an inspiration, but also one of your closest friends. “And that’s why I’m offering to help.”

“But how could you help me, Y/N?” He asked. “What can you possibly do to help me come to terms with who I am?”

“Well, I had Steve read through the Internet a lot and make a list of all the things he wanted to try… like Thai food and Sherlock Holmes. I know that you’re not going on any missions right now. You’re just hanging around the compound and trying to kill time, right? I’d say… make use of the computers we have here, learn as much as you can. We can talk about it. But don’t ever think that you’re alone in this.” 

The Internet was a great place to start learning, right? Surely, Bucky had been apprehensive about taking that step. But he needed to be given a little push. Thankfully, he now had you for that. “I guess I can do that.” He gave in, for he was starting to get bored of the facility’s gym. 

“There is something that needs to be done about your nightmares though.” You pointed out. “This compound needs an on-site therapist. I need one. You need one. Wanda needs one. We all need one after all this crap that we’ve had to deal with.” You made a mental note to make some calls in the morning, but for now you knew that your attention should be on the super soldier. “But right now, you really need to get some sleep.” 

Bucky shook his head in defeat. “I can’t seem to fall asleep in my bed, Y/N. Believe me, I’ve tried… for many nights. I guess I just have to suck it up and kill time until the morning.” 

You raised your eyebrow at his words before crossing your arms against your chest. “What? Do you need me to sing you a lullaby or something?” You asked him, teasingly. 

He laughed at your question before shaking his head. “As if that’s ever going to work on me…” 

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky Barnes had no clue how it even happened. Just twenty-four hours ago, the two of you had been strangers who had nothing in common except for the fact that you both shared a past that had been perfectly entwined somehow. But now you were sitting against the headboard of his queen sized bed in the living quarters adjacent to yours, his head resting against your lap as he shut his eyes. 

Your soft hands running through his silky dark hair, you sang the words that you had pretty much memorized by now. It was a lullaby that your grandmother had sung to you when you were younger, written about how Lord Krishna himself had fallen asleep after a long day of playing around his village. 

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Avan Vaai Niraiya Mannai Undu

Mandalathai Kaattiya Pin

Oiveduthu Thoongugindraan, Aaraaro

Oiveduthu Thoongugindraan, Aaraaro

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Pinnalitta Gopiyarin Kannathile Kannam Ittu

Mannavan Pol Leelai Seidhaan Thaalelo

Pinnalitta Gopiyarin Kannathile Kannam Ittu

Mannavan Pol Leelai Seidhaan Thaalelo

Andha Mandhirathil Avar Uranga

Mayakkathile Ivan Uranga

Mandalame Urangudhammaa Aaraaro

Mandalame Urangudhammaa Aaraaro

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Bucky Barnes had no clue how it even happened. But as he listened to the melody of your lullaby, he had drifted off into a deep slumber. When he woke up the next day, he found that you were gone. But he knew that you were the one to thank for helping him sleep after many months of waking up from nightmares. 

As the weeks went by, you and Bucky had become quite close. As most of the team were gone for days at a time because of their respective missions, the two of you often found yourselves being the only ones remaining at the compound. Despite your loneliness, you somehow found comfort in each other. 

Your free time was usually spent cooking up a storm in the common kitchen, and Bucky found himself frequently joining you for your meals. He had taken quite the liking to South Indian cuisine, but he had also kept his promise of making you a completely vegetarian Wakandan meal - something that he apparently prepared by video-calling the Queen Mother of Wakanda herself and asking her for recipes. 

“Does this mean you have diplomatic immunity? Being the adoptive child of Queen Ramonda and all…” You had joked. “They call you the White Wolf, don’t they?” 

“Did you ever have to use your diplomatic immunity?” He had asked you mockingly. “Being the daughter of an Indian diplomat after all.” 

“Bucky, could you please give Queen Ramonda my regards? Let her know that Agent Y/L/N, the daughter of Ambassador Y/L/N, sends her regards and thanks the royal family for all of their help.” You hadn’t been all that familiar with the Wakandan royal family during the reign of King T’Chaka, but it was only after his death did you have the chance to work closely with them. After all, you understood the pain that they had been dealing with all too well. 

Bucky was not familiar with why you seemed to know them so well. He had just assumed it must be because of your career in diplomacy before you became an agent. He did not think much of it though, at least not until he had told Shuri that you gave their family your regards. 

While the truth behind your relationship with the Wakandan royal family had certainly shaken him to his core, he did not make it known that he knew about it. After all, it was a huge part of your own personal life and you were just his boss. He did not feel the need to let you know that he knew something about you that you might not have wanted you to know. But instead, he continued to learn more about you and the culture that you were raised in. 

The Internet was a great place when it came to catching up with the world. He had read just about everything he could get his hands on, from history to literature and science. While he tried to keep up with how much the world had changed, he had also read as much as he could about your religion. 

He often joined you on your visits to the temple in the city after noticing that you made it a habit to go there every Friday. When Janmashtami came around, Bucky had offered to help you paint footprints from your front door to your shrine of Lord Krishna. 

According to your grandmother, the tradition of painting baby footprints was done believing that Lord Krishna would follow them and enter your home. You had been doing that every single year on Janmashtami for as long as you could remember. But that year, you just knew. It was the first year that Krishna had entered your home for real.

[foolgobi65]

careful man’s careless daughter

@philtstone prompted: Anne/Gilbert babysitter au fake dating prompt #5 let’s go laydees “you have the emotional capacity of a brick. that slate I broke over  your head.” (we’re pretending people still use slates now....american schools have no money...its possible ok) 

k so i was trying to figure out how to work in the babysitter + fake dating and ... like a flash the plot to this old telugu/tamil movie i love missamma/missaimaa came to mind -- its not quite the same because they’re two people pretending to be married so that they can make money as school teachers/live in tutors for a wealthy family’s daughter but it works just enough that i decided to roll with it lol. 

this technically isn’t the actual babysitting, nor the fake dating which I actually turned into a fake marriage lol, but i hope u still like it, even though it is all over the place and a general wreck because i wrote it straight through without any editing or thought towards pacing/characterization bc i havent written in forever lol!! im not even sure what the time period setting is lol, and i dont think my translating of the anne events into a semi modern day even works but w/e lol. 

u are the truest of friends, the light of my life, and have certainly heard more than your share of my mental breakdowns both in the last month and the last few years lol. u deserve all the good things, all the good fic, all the time. 

title is a perversion of a tswift lyric because it came up on youtube. if anyone wants to send in prompts from here

---

“You owe him how much?” 

Anne sighs, crossing her legs to hide how uncomfortable she is in this moment -- here she is in the park, fifteen thousand dollars plus interest in medical debt for Marilla’s eye surgery and being hounded by Roy Gardner, ex boyfriend apparently turned loan shark who was on his knees proclaiming both love and loan forgiveness should Anne just accept his proposal. 

Here Gilbert Blythe is, sitting on a park bench after two years without contact, watching the whole thing. 

“Marilla doesn’t have health insurance,” Anne says, eyes on the ground as she uses the toe of her shoe to grind a leaf into the sidewalk cement. “Even when I was teaching, the union plan didn’t let people add parents on as dependents.” She sighs. “With everything happening with the farm, she couldn’t afford to put money towards a plan and so when her eyes got bad....” 

For a moment, there is silence. Anne can almost hear Gilbert’s jaw clench “That’s just wrong.” 

Anne laughs, and because her eyes are averted she doesn’t see Gilbert flinch. “That’s America, Blythe.” 

“Well,” she hears him say, tone just dripping with what Mrs. Rachel would call the Blythe Stubbornness, “It shouldn’t be.” 

She won’t ever admit it, but there’s something Anne has always found deeply compelling about Gilbert when he gets into these moods -- all righteously indignant in a way that Anne feels inside of her own body. Or felt, before Matthew died and left behind debts not even Marilla had known about, and Marilla’s eyes worsened around the the time Anne was let go from her teaching job and even if she had had the job it wouldn’t have mattered, she knows, but still. Beautiful, wonderful, beloved Diana had offered to help, of course she had, but Anne knew that Fred’s business wasn’t yet where it should be and that the parents Barry were still unimpressed with their son in law to be’s financial acumen. So she’d had to go to Roy, who had of course lent his beautiful Anne the money, and of course had arranged for Marilla to be treated at the best hospital in Toronto, of course had set them up in the apartment of a friend of his right in downtown where the rents were a thousand maybe two per month. He’d popped the question for the third time the second Marilla had been released back into Anne’s care. 

Almost as if he can hear her thoughts, Gilbert speaks -- “Gardner shouldn’t be harassing you like this either. Who ever heard of charging interest on a loan to a friend? And what on earth does he think he’s going to take from you if you just don’t pay?” 

Anne burns. This, she hasn’t told Marilla, nor even her darling Diana. For some reason, it seems alright to tell Gilbert. “The farm,” she mumbles.

Gilbert snorts. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard. Are you saying that Roy Gardner, heir to one of the biggest fortunes in Boston and your ex boyfriend, took your home as collateral on a loan for money you needed to pay for your mother’s surgery?” 

Anne says nothing. She still hasn’t looked up at him, hasn’t been able to meet his gaze since she sat down on the bench and told Roy to get up off his knees and wait two months for either his money or her affirmative answer. She blinks, having mercifully forgotten that Gilbert was present for that last bit. She hopes he’s forgotten too. 

“And wait, before he left you said....” No such luck. “Anne!” Anne’s sure her entire head must be flame as she closes her eyes, bringing her knees up on the park bench and burying her face into her own lap. “Anne you said you’d marry him if you couldn’t get the money!” 

“There’s no debt between spouses,” Anne mumbles. “We’d get to keep the farm, and I wouldn’t ever worry about Marilla’s health again.” 

“But you don’t love him!” She doesn’t know if she’s ever heard Gilbert sound so scandalized. 

“I used to!” she tries to retort, but even Anne knows that her voice betrays her when she tries to speak this lie. “I used to think I was,” she amends, “and maybe that’s as close as I’m allowed to get -- he’s rich, handsome, he even loves me! What more could I ask for?” 

“Coercing you into marriage, demanding interest on money that we all know is just pocket change for someone like him...that’s not love,” Gilbert Blythe responds, with all that....that all-knowing Blytheness in his voice that Anne has hated since she was 13 years old and the new kid in a class of people who had always known each other just as easily as they had known themselves. “Love is selfless, Anne, strong and kind. It makes you better for giving away your heart, even if the one you love doesn’t give you theirs in return.” 

Gilbert Blythe, always acting as if he knows something Anne does not. He speaks as if he’s been in love, at some point over the years since he was last in Avonlea and for some reason Anne absolutely burns with that knowledge. Ooh she just hates him, now at 24 just as easily as she had at 13! 

“And what exactly is love worth if it means I just lose the farm trying to pay for Marilla’s surgery, and still have nothing for the next time she’s sick?” Suddenly Anne is on her feet, hands on her hips as she glares at Gilbert looking quite alarmed as he still sits on the bench. The words she has kept locked on the inside, too private to even be written in a diary, come pouring out in one big rush:

“Three of my four parents are already dead, Gilbert Blythe.” Her voice hitches, to her horror, her sudden fury vanishes as she has to blink away the tears she has kept at bay since she and Marilla buried Matthew. Damn Gilbert, for bringing this out of her as well. “I can’t...I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.” Her lips thin, and with a breath, her voice steadies. “I don’t care what you, or anyone else thinks about my choices if it means that I can take care of Marilla.” 

Gilbert’s eyes have the sheen of his own tears when he stands, his own lips wobbling just slightly. “I...” he swallows. “Of course, Anne.” Something Anne recognizes as self hatred passes briefly over his face, but she doesn’t understand. “I wish I had money like Gardner to give you, I really do.”   

Anne gentles, even if something inside her twists to be the object of the long-old guilt mixed with pity, much less Gilbert Blythe. Since Matthew’s death, every person in Avonlea it seems has sat with Anne and Marilla and offered their deep condolences, their absolute shock at the pair’s financial state of affairs, how much they wish they could help but sadly cannot, what with the way the bank’s collapse has hit their own finances. Only families like the Gardners survive economic crashes with money to burn. 

“I wouldn’t have taken it even if you had,” she offers instead, shrugging casually. 

His eyes flash. “But you took Gardner’s?” 

“I thought he loved me!” Anne closes her eyes, somehow feeling her cheeks flush even deeper. This is why she’s avoided all mention of Gilbert Blythe so strenuously since high school graduation, because more than anyone else he is the one who drags out the words she is always learning to keep inside. Here he is, somehow pulling confessions Anne hadn’t even dreamed of telling Diana, confessions that make her seem small, and stupid, lost in a world so much more complicated and treacherous than she can handle all on her lonesome. 

Well, she thinks, in for a penny -- 

“I thought he loved me,” she says, “and that he had the money to spare. I didn’t realize...” She looks away again, so that she never has to see him react to her folly. 

“Oh Anne,” Gilbert says, for some reason so soft and stricken that Anne’s knees go weak with her sudden desire to fall to the ground and weep. “You deserve so much better.” 

And now she’s angry again. “What would you know about what I deserve?” Anne spits, “you haven’t even been home since you started med school!” Vaguely, Anne thinks that Gilbert hasn’t been home since she and Roy had gotten serious, serious enough for her to bring him to Green Gables and show him the place that had been her very first love. Coincidences can be so strange. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, glaring again at the ground. “None of this matters. I’m just going to go home” Anne clenches her jaw, knowing that when she gets back to Green Gables she will go into her room and play every excruciating part of this conversation back in her head, again and again until she throws up or passes out at dawn from sheer exhaustion. Maybe both, if she’s lucky. She leans back slightly and manages to turn around on her heels, a trick Gilbert Blythe had always pulled at school and had had girls thinking he was so cool.

She’s five minutes away from the park bench when suddenly she hears him call out her name. 

“Anne,” he shouts again much closer, bending at his waist to balance his hands at his knees as he pants. “God, it really has been two years since I was on the university football team.” 

Despite the roiling emotions of five minutes ago, Anne’s lips quirk. “I can’t imagine you all practiced very much to end up near the bottom of your league every year.” 

Gilbert’s eyes widen, and for some reason he flushes. Maybe he’s so out of shape that it’s from exertion? “I didn’t realize you kept up with my matches.”  Ah. Anne, it seems, will experience nothing else but one long sustained flush as long as she is in front of Gilbert Blythe. “You know,” she tries to say casually, “you hear things here and there. Diana told me the village gossip.” 

Gilbert opens his mouth, but then suddenly shakes his head, like a dog trying to dislodge water from its fur. “I have...” he frowns. “I have a proposition for you.”  Anne raises what she hopes is an elegant eyebrow. “Oh?” 

He grimaces. “There’s a boarding school, a Catholic one, that’s asking for teachers over the summer for a few of their select students who want to be coached for college admissions. Essays, standardized tests, everything. They’ve got heaps of money, and are willing to pay salaries up front. Plus, they cover all your expenses while you’re there!” 

Anne blinks, feeling the beginnings of hope gather as kindling at the very dredges of her heart. Once, both Anne and Gilbert had competed so well against each other that they had both gotten into Harvard. Then, Matthew had died, and Anne decided she could just as easily get a teaching degree at the state school and stay closer to Marilla too. Gilbert alone had had the distinction of being the first from Avonlea to reach such heights, and had reached even higher when he had been accepted again to Harvard Medical School. 

But at one point, both Anne and Gilbert had taken their SATs. They’d both written their application essays. They’d both gotten in. Anne, even, had been offered a full ride compared to Gilbert’s only partial scholarship, so there could even be an argument that of the two, Anne had been the one on top. 

And if nothing else, Anne is even better at teaching than she was at taking tests. 

“I’ll do it,” she says firmly. “Where and when do I need to report, and how much money are they offering?”  For a second, a bright, dazzling grin paints Gilbert’s face. “Really? Ten--” he coughs, “Twenty thousand.” Anne frowns. 

“Each?” It sounds like a dream come true. Five thousand more than Anne needs, and paid upfront. She could save the farm, and put away five thousand towards the farm’s debts. “That sounds....exorbitant.”  He nods, suddenly more confident. “Yep! Twenty thousand for sure.” He laughs. “I know Gardner was supposed to be slumming it at state school, but you really can’t be surprised at how much money rich people are willing to throw at a problem.” 

“The problem being...their children.”  Gilbert’s grin turns wicked. “The problem being their children’s SAT scores, and lack of compelling anecdote to base an admission’s essay on, yes.” 

Anne laughs, wicked in this moment as well. She wishes in this moment, fiercely, as she has many times over the last few years, that she had been able to go to university with Gilbert at her side -- as the friends they had slowly begun to be after years of one and two sided enmity, before time and distance had turned them into near strangers. She doesn’t regret staying back, not really, but there is a part of her that no one had ever understood half as well as Gilbert Blythe, who had, after the Harvard interest meeting, drawn and pinned up a schedule for practice SATs that took into account both his and Anne’s often conflicting life schedules. 

“What’s the catch,” she asks, grinning when Gilbert chokes “come on, Blythe, there’s always a catch with offers like this. Is it across from a waste manufacturing plant? Is the principal a pervert?” 

Slowly, Gilbert Blythe is turning red. “Ah,” he says, shuffling like he never did even when he was an errant schoolboy. “Well,” he says, and....is that his voice cracking? 

“Gilbert,” Anne says, trying to reassure him, “I grew up in the foster system, I can handle much worse than bad smells and pervert principals, I promise.” 

He frowns. “It’s not that,” he says slowly, “but basically they’re looking for two teachers, a man and a woman to manage the boys and the girls while the rest of the staff go on vacation.” 

Anne smiles, trying to ignore the jolt of her heart at the thought of an entire summer with Gilbert, studying like they used to but as friends. Her old dreams, finally coming true. “That’s perfect then, you take one job and I’ll take the other! It’ll be like old times, kind of.” 

He smiles faintly, as if, even after locking horns with the best and brightest at Harvard, Anne is still the person he wants to be trading barbs with over the heads of high school students for months on end. “I’d like nothing better, he says, except...” 

“Except?” 

Gilbert inhales. “ExceptTheSchoolWillOnlyHireAMarriedCoupleSoThatTheyDon’tHaveToWorryAboutOutofWedlockSexorTeachersHavingSexWithStudents.” All in a rush, and now Gilbert is the one who can’t apparently handle eye contact.

“What?” 

“The school,” Gilbert says to his shoes, “since it’s Catholic, and also since they’re lazy, only want a married couple so that they don’t have to have anyone watching to make sure the teachers aren’t having sex with the students. Or each other.” 

Anne blinks. “But we’re not married!” 

Gilbert grimaces, opening his mouth, but then just biting his lip. They could be, Anne thinks, only a tad hysterical. Only all of Avonlea was matching them up all the years of high school, and even the years after until she’d met Roy. It would be so easy to get a certificate. They could get a divorce by September, even annul their marriage since they definitely wouldn’t be having sex. 

Twenty thousand dollars. 

“So what you’re saying,” Anne says slowly, her lip curling of its own accord “is that after all that talk about what love is and isn’t, and telling me that I shouldn’t marry Roy for the money he’d give me, your blockheaded solution is instead, for me to marry you?” 

Gilbert looks up. “Well when you put it that way--”  Anne sees red, even as she already sees herself in one of her old white lace dresses, standing with Gilbert at the courtroom and signing. “Gilbert Blythe I don’t believe you! Sometimes, I think that you really do have all the emotional capacity of that slate I broke over your head!” 

“I know,” he says tone heavy with something so sad that Anne’s hearten softens a bit of its own accord. “But you really need the money, and I promise we’ll get a divorce by September.” He smiles, but there’s something bitter at the corners that Anne has never seen before -- she almost raises her hand to rub the strand of emotion off his lips. “And you’re not the only one who needs the money. Will you do it?” 

Twenty thousand dollars. The farm, Marilla, an end to the eternal pity of Avonlea. And also, a small part of her suggests, an opportunity to finally spend time with this new Gilbert Blythe who went off into the world and left her behind. 

She sighs. “I vote that you be the one to tell Mrs. Lynde.” 

[literaphobe]

that's so AWESOME, being a polyglot sure as hell is hot! and such an advantage with korean fanart! If you don't mind, which one is your favourite (for writing, speaking, listening)? When talking, do you alternate between the three of them?? Which one do you think is the easiest? Any anecdote involving language?? How do you got interested in learning korean?? i don't know, id like to read more about it asdkdj

hehe sometimes i see the korean spop art n comics on twitter and they will have some like english translation and i will feel like an insider because i will look at the original korean one and know what it Really says 

also! english is the language i’m technically the most proficient in? but when i speak to family n friends who speak english and chinese i tend to code-switch! it is fun and also my parents used to make me terrified of chinese because they would scold and belittle me constantly for not speaking it well when i was like in my preteens to teens (even tho it was their fault! for almost exclusively speaking english to me because english proficiency is an advantage and is prioritized in my country). but my mom now admits i speak chinese well <3 i don’t necessarily know all the words but whatever i say tends to come out nice <3 also with korean.... mmm its hard to get opportunities to speak it because i don’t know anyone who can speak korean with me <3 i feel very shy about using it <3 there was a period of time tho when i spoke korean to my dogs for fun it was funny 

between english chinese and korean..... it’s interesting because english and chinese both for the most part follow the SVO (subject verb object) sentence structure, whereas korean follows a SOV (subject object verb) sentence structure. BUT english and korean both have an alphabet (its why i learnt how to read korean in like! idk an hour i’m guessing) whereas chinese does not </3 its a... [big sigh] pictorial language. so each character is some new fucking picture you gotta learn. SUCH a bitch in oral examinations because sometimes u will just come across a word that u don’t know! never seen that shit before! so u don’t know how to read it <3 so it’s like a guessing game where there is every chance you will be completely wrong <3 so sometimes u gotta fucking <3 pretend the word doesn’t exist <3 or make up your own pronunciation <3 i remember sitting in a hall once with two of my malay friends and they were moaning about how scared they were because what if they pronounce stuff wrong :( and i’m like aw :( well :( but at least u have an alphabet :( which is like the same letters as the one in english :( that’s like safer right because how wrong can u go? and they’re like ok but u see :( the word could be said slightly different as compared to how its spelt :( and i’m like oh <3 that must be so hard <3 

and the thing is u see. they learnt exactly how much easier they had it. because our school had this program where they made the chinese students learn malay and the students who spoke malay, hindi, tamil, basically everyone who was not chinese. they had to learn chinese </3 and that was honestly like a racist hate crime, because after class my friends would come up to me on the verge of tears like. michelle :’( HOW are you doing this. chinese class is so scary we hate it why must we memorise every new character. and me, who got second in class for malay (the ONLY reason why i didn’t get first was because i forgot what ‘yellow’ was in malay. and now i will always remember it is ‘kuning’. anyway my malay teacher was BEAUTIFUL and she told me i got full marks for reading because i said everything perfectly. i did not understand a single word of the malay passage i was reading <3) was like i am so sorry :( you do not deserve this :( 

anyway its a hate crime to make a person learn english and chinese because imo those are two of the most different languages in the world :) its why white people fucking suck at chinese. and honestly so do most chinese american like. actors. ever seen a movie where they speak chinese? most times they are speaking it horribly <3 anyway, learning korean was really interesting because of how it strengthened my chinese! like, because a lot of korean words came from chinese (there are korean words taken from japanese too. because. well. lmao) and the korean alphabet was literally invented because traditional han characters (written chinese) was too fucking hard. even the chinese people realized traditional chinese was too fucking hard and decided to make simplified chinese. like make those pictures less complicated! 

the reason why i learnt korean was because. of this korean variety show called running man. it is the most internationally recognized korean variety show. so what this show is is like. there is a main cast made up of actors, singers, and comedians. and they are forced to compete against each other/team up to achieve a common goal, through playing various games and stuff with a final objective that involves someone winning/getting punished. it’s a little hard to explain, but they’re like an irl found family trope (while also being fictional? because they essentially play characters on that show that are like exaggerated versions of themselves) with EVERY AU ever. like seriously think of a concept they’ve probably done it. high school, super powers, super heroes, aliens, college students, olympic athletes, sherlock holmes, james bond, chess, etc etc etc. so an example of this would be like the staff will tell the members “this week you are the drama department in the high school and you are competing against the athletics department to determine who is the best club in the school” and they’ll have to do it. and sometimes the cast gets really into the theme of the ep and its really funny when they gotta Act to sell something. anyway they also have this game which the show invented called ‘nametag ripping’ so essentially on their backs everyone has a name tag stuck to their clothes with velcro and you have to rip off the nametags of other people. the cast in this show has incredible chemistry so the banter is amazing and very funny. i also have to admit i additionally liked the show because two of the members had this ‘best enemies, best collaborators’ chemistry that i found very compelling and fun to watch. so i started learning korean so i could get what they were saying without subs ie watch the show live. and i guess my parents found that impressive which is why my mom constantly nags me to learn more languages. which. is not gonna happen because i have adhd <3 and the thing about me is. i won’t say i’m a genius. but i can do anything so long as i want to do it. its the worst superpower to have <3 so anyway. that’s why i know korean i guess! sorry this is so long 

[kunalkarankapoor]

@priyanka_music: HAPPY BIRTHDAY🎉🎊❤️ Kunal Karan Kapoor

I still remember that day when I saw you casting in the show , 'Na Bole Tum Naa Maine Kuchh Kaha ' , and I just felt an instant connection with you . Honestly , I never felt that you are actually acting in the show but till today it seems that its going on in front of my eyes and I am too the part of it. Your dedication towards your work has inspired a lot of people like me . A very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my favourite actor #kunalkarankapoor ❤️😘Stay blessed, keep smiling and keep blessing our timeline. 

kunalkarankapoor: Beautiful ♥️

priyanka_music: @kunalkarankapoor ❤️😍😍 Thank you so much sir!!!!!!! It's unbelievable to see your reply . I can't express in words how happy I am . I hope you liked it and this song dedicated to you was able to put on that heart warming smile on your face . Once again a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY ❤️😘🎊🎉🎂

yan__pictures: 💝Happy birthday spiderman @kunalkarankapoor

Happy Birthday to the best and amazing in the world who has changed my life and who made my world complete. I am sooo proud to be your fan forever. Keep soaring higher and higher and the sky will be your limit.My wish for is to experience joy, hope and love all the days of your life and accomplish all the wonderful goals you have set in your life.May you continue to inspire and put smiles on the faces of those who love you. I wish pure happiness in your life.May God bless you with all the joy and happiness that your heart can contain.Love you always. Stay blessed and be happy always.  Vadlapudi Latha

Kunal Karan Kapoor, at first : Wish you a very happy birthday !!! Wish you all thé Luck, joy, love, success of thé World !!!You are an Amazing actor, an impressive photographer and a great person.It is really thé first Time that i am a big fan of an actor. Your way to play IS really awesome. You have something spécial that attract me. Your voice at first, then your eyes who speaks so much things... Once i discovered you in nbt, i get stuck on you. I wanted to see more shows of you. After watching all your shows, i wanted to know more about you, what you like etc... Then i discovered a fabulous photographer... No need to Travel, i Travel with your clicks ! They are just WOW!! I have not stop even After that... I Saw your interviews... You looks so natural and honest. Something rare in this World. Never change !Really, i admire you.Wish you thé best because you are thé best and deserve thé best ... Sim

touchwood_tales

Wish you a very Happy Birthday Kunal Karan Kapoor.I came to know about you when i was in class 6th and till now i am huge fan of yours. I know these line you might have heard 1000 times but let me tell you. You are different and unique. The intensity you have in your eyes your expressions and your presence these are like magic. Whenever i get sad or stressed even your small interview byte makes me happy. And most importantly your presence your charm helped me to overcome sadness always. Stay blessed superstar.❤️You are reason to my happiness amid of sorrow.May God bless you with all the happiness and long life with success and joy always. Lots of love kkk💕❤️💃😍  arzookha advocate

sogitha.rk: @kunalkarankapoor Happy 38❤ You'll always remain my favourite!!

kunalkarankapoor: 🙏 ❤️

Hi KUNAL ji .....BIRTHDAY DAY wishes...Ur birthday is a great day for us...WISHING U A DAY FILLED WITH HAPPINESS AND A YEAR FILLED WID JOY.... I saw u first on 13th September 2013 (NBTNMKK 1st episode in tamil) ..I really got obsessed wid ur acting...My first serial is nbtnmkk coz I'm not much interested in serials..But after nbtnmkk I started to see a lot of serials ...But I'm addicted to ur acting...Ur eyes speaks a lot ..Ur natural way of acting....Everything everything just awesome...I started loving both Kunal Karan Kapoor and Aakanksha.... My very next serial was doli armaano ki ...I really loved ishaani-shaurya bonding...The luv for ishaani and ur intrepid character was something still I adore and i wanted to be like this..And that time i felt I'd had a brother like u...Really ur eyes are so powerful that u don't need words to explain..... My mom and dad were my inspiration..I thought no one would be other than my mom and dad.....but now ur my true inspiration..my mentor..I've learnt a lot from u and still learning...I'm sure I will follow ur footsteps to achieve my dreams...keep learning from u....Ur simplicity and UR RESPECT TOWARDS UR FANS keeps increasing my Respect for u....KEEP SHINING AND SMILING bcoz u r the reason for many of our smiles...WAITING FOR UR BLOCKBUSTER MOVIES..wish u a great day..MAY EACH CANDLE U BLOW GRANT U A WISH TODAY...NO MATTER HOW OLD U BECOME U SEEM TO BE YOUNG FOREVER..LOVE U💖💗💗 Guna.1067

Today it's August 22nd and It's your Birthday 🍰🍫 sir! A very special day to all of us;I WISH YOU A VERY VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR! I Wish a lots of happiness, success and good health..I also want to congratulate you for all your tremendous work in all serials n web series.. you're such an outstanding performer!! You make us speechless with all your phenomenal work.....Thank you so much for making us smile 😊through your unique style of acting..You're such a greatest and cutest human being with such a hypnotizing smile 😊... Again , WISHING YOU A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR!KEEP ACHIEVING MORE N MORE.....KEEP ENTERTAINING THE WORLD....KEEP SMILING....😊STAY BLESSED... loads of respect n best wishes...Suchismita Mishra

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A post shared by Team Kunal K Kapoor (@anilaiam) on Aug 22, 2020 at 3:04am PDT

Through the windowpane I saw a lighting strike and in that light; I saw a lovely angel’s marvelous face. My eyes lit with sparks of fire striking against my body thinking it as a matchstick, And my heart blossomed as various blossoms. There is no language to sing his magnificence. No eyes are efficient enough to measure his beauty. Though all I said is true, he isn’t mine. O heart of mine, just let go of him. - @janani._.jaan._.vm

artistic_soul_36:...HBD to our Star😍...@kunalkarankapoorWe hope that all your wishes will come true...Have a blast this year ❤

kunalkarankapoor: ♥️🙏 

I saw you on September 19 2013 on Polimer channel for the first time. That was one day when I felt really bored and was just flipping my remote to view something nice. Suddenly I came across this serial NENJAM PESUTHE and I became elated when I saw a little girl acting too good beyond her levels. Then in the last scene of that very episode came my hero MOHAN PRASAD. He became the man for whom I desperately waited to watch. Days passed and I became more and more a KUNALIAN and I should say that the onscreen chemistry between nanhi and her Spiderman was more adorable than that between the lead pair. You are the first person who could bring a smile as well as tears in my eyes at the same time. You really swept me off my feet. I started crushing on you and loving you so much. It is you who kept me glued to the computer during my 9th standard vacation. I completed watching season 2 of the serial 175 episodes at a stretch in just 13 days only for you and in spite of getting a hell lot ofscoldings, I really enjoyed that. I am really proud to be your fan, oh my King of expressions! I was amazed (still am) by the way you never consider yourself as a celebrity and are such a down to earth actor one can ever see. I wish you a very happy, cheerful birthday and I love you so much love, Rania

Repost Kunal Karan Kapoor’s Instastory.

Kunal Karan Kapoor’s instastory.

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A post shared by kunalkarankapoorhugefan (@kunalkarankapoorhugefan) on Aug 22, 2020 at 7:03am PDT

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A post shared by Polimer Corner (@polimer_corner) on Aug 22, 2020 at 5:41am PDT

[sarahlwlee]

31 Stories in 31 Days: Language

What is this? As part of celebrating Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month (May), I am writing a story a day about my experiences as a Chinese Malaysian immigrant in America. My friends and family have provided numerous one-word prompts to help me create these stories. Today’s word prompt was contributed by Chauncey L. and the word is “Language”. Thank you Chauncey for your contribution and thank you everyone who stopped by to read my story today.

I grew up in a country that spoke Manglish, which means a blending of local languages in Malaysia into the English language. Some have described it as English-based creole and influenced by the dominant languages of the country, more specifically Malay, Chinese languages, and Tamil. Even though the official language of Malaysia is Malay, people learn to get by conversationally on Manglish for the most part. It encompasses a lot of “lah” at the end of a word or sentence, such as “you know lah” or “why you like dat lah?”

Another word that similarly describes Manglish is Singlish, commonly used in Singapore with other Chinese language influences and many would say the two are essentially the same, but don’t say that when you are in Singapore. I even had a t-shirt from Singapore, when I was 16, outlining its cultural features through iconography that included “lah” as one of its unique attributes.

English is a second language in Malaysia. Malaysian English is similar and related to British English due to our complicated history of being colonized by the British for 131 years before Malaysia gained its independence in 1957. Learning English for me was easy because we spoke English at home and my mother was a teacher who taught English, Geography and many other subjects. I was encouraged to read a lot of English written books and literature as well as watching a lot of English speaking shows. My grasp of the English language flourished more when I went to college in Kalamazoo. I always thought that my mastery of English was excellent when I was in secondary school, only to find out later that there are much stronger English speakers and writers in Malaysia.

When I arrived in Kalamazoo, I remember a senior from the international student orientation group said I have a very thick Malaysian accent. I couldn’t tell the difference because I couldn’t hear my own voice being different. I understood other English speakers in America, however I felt they couldn’t understand me and some of the words I use. In my senior year of college, I joined a community theatre group to learn how to hone in on acting and public speaking. While running lines with one of the graduate assistants supporting the actors, she said I pronounce the number “three” in a strange way that is very unique to most Malaysian. More specifically, the way I was pronouncing it was “tree” without the emphasis on the “h” in the word “three”. She is a Black American woman who specialized in performing arts and had met several Malaysians before me who spoke quite the same way. I took her comment to heart and started modifying how I said the number three — making sure I emphasized the “h” moving forward.

During this same time in senior year, I started dating Chauncey and to this day he remembers when I use to have a very thick accent when he met me for the first time when I was a sophomore. While dating, he would often ask me to explain words I use when asking for something. For example, I asked him if we need serviettes for our picnic lunch in the park. He said to me, “What are serviettes?”. In that moment I translated it to “napkins” because I remember hearing a McDonald’s employee referring to it that way and then he finally understood what I was asking for. It took me awhile to find word replacements for: lift, boot, singlet, movie theatre, trolley and many more.

Over the years, Chauncey learned what I meant so it became easier to communicate when we were together however out in public, especially while working, I had to use the proper American terminology. I remember my job at the Chamber I was directing a guest who needed access to an elevator and I said, “Please head down the hallway and you will find the lift to your right.” They looked at me puzzled and said they were not looking for a forklift but rather an elevator. I caught myself and repeated to the guest saying, “Yes, my apologies. Please head down the hallway and the elevator will be to your right.” Slightly frustrate and flustered, I offered to just walk him down the hallway and show him exactly where the elevator was.

For the last 17 years I have lived in Kalamazoo, I have worked really hard on my word choices and how I speak. I don’t remember when this happened, but one day I didn’t have an accent anymore and people mistook me for someone who was raised in America because I spoke like an American. When I speak to friends and family in Malaysia, I noticed they were trying to adapt to how I was speaking and I thought to myself, “Well that’s strange, why are they trying to talk with an American accent?” I can’t control my accent. I try my best to drop in a “lah” or two to show that I still understood Manglish and could speak it whenever I communicate with friends and family in Malaysia.

Sometimes it sounds like I am foreigner in Malaysia trying too hard to speak Manglish and it becomes quite laughable. What I forget often is the sentence structure is different for Manglish, so adding a “lah” here and there doesn’t really change how I sound — it just makes me sound silly and forced. Chauncey calls it code switching. He said sometimes it comes back naturally to me when I’m talking to my mother, but I can’t hear it when I do switch. Maybe next time we will capture a recording of this in action.

[the-everlasting-dream]

The Revelation, Chapter 13 - TRR AU

Summary: Liam’s turned up on her doorstep but is Elizabeth ready to face the past? 

A/N: Yes another update, I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been all over the place. For real though I’ve been running out of steam for this story and I’m glad its finally winding down. Sorry for the mistakes I posted this at 2am at the risk of @ooo-barff-ooo kicking my ass. 

Tamil is used and translated in [brackets] - used google translate coz i’ve slipped ugh. Thanks to 4-20marg for help with the greek. 

Word Count: 4280 - pretty short in comparison. 

Warnings: Slight psychological distress,

SERIES MASTERLIST

Elizabeth stood shell shocked in the open doorway of her brother’s apartment, unable to move as she openly gaped at the person on the other side of the threshold. 

‘Umm.. Elizabeth?’ Liam, the King of Cordonia stood before her, his tall form filling up most of the doorway as he stared down at her. ‘Is…Have I come at a bad time..?’ 

The hesitancy and concern in his voice as his blue eyes travelled up her dishevelled form was enough to snap her out of her trance. 

 ‘No, no, nonsense. Its fine!’ she burst out nervously, frantically trying to smoothen down her hair as she stepped aside. ‘Come in, please!’ 

She hurriedly ushered him in, sneaking a glance in the mirror and hurriedly trying to pull herself together, catching sight of herself in the hallway mirror and rubbing at the faint mascara tracks staining her cheeks. 

‘Tea?’ Elizabeth asked, painfully aware that her voice was too loud and squeaky. 

Liam had barely nodded when she swept into the kitchen, eager to put some distance between the. She’d been knocked completely off kilter by his sudden appearance and, sneaking a glance at his tall figure as he perused her brother’s book collection, wracked her brain as to what could have possessed him to turn up so unexpectedly.

After putting the kettle on, she hesitantly took a seat on the armchair opposite Liam. Elizabeth took a moment to really take him in. The king, the man who was the real reason she ever left New York in the first place. Liam could make any outfit look good, currently a simple polo and jeans, she’d never seen him so casual and decided she liked this look on him. Seated on Theo’s beat up recliner, he retained a dignified but relaxed pose, completely different to herself, perched on the edge of her chair, ready to take flight at the smallest of scares. His blonde hair weaved with threads of gold that caught on the light from the setting sun filtering through the living room window, like a lionhearted angel. His lips curved up in the tiniest smile as he let her take him in for a long moment. 

‘So…,’ Elizabeth began awkwardly, realizing she'd been staring too long. ‘How’s Cordonia and the uh... kingly… stuff?’ 

‘Cordonia’s good,’ Liam replied casually and if he felt the tension between them, he did not show it. ’Things are settling down after Anton’s capture and we’re finally getting back on our feet.’ 

’That… that’s good to hear,’ she said, surprised to find herself actually meaning it. There was a long pause during which she fought to keep her eyes trained on her chipped nail polish of her bare toes before finally finding her voice again. When she spoke, her tone was soft almost as if she was holding broken glass. 

‘Have you come to bring me back?’   

Liam’s eyes softened. ‘Elizabeth… you know I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to.’ 

 The words struck a chord in her, especially after with the memory Robbie and what he’d almost done. Her eyes reflexively began to fill with tears and she sniffed loudly, feeling embarrassed at her stupid face for giving everything away.  

Liam must have picked up on the sudden change as his brows furrowed and he began to speak. ‘Elizabeth… did something ha-.’ 

He was cut off by the loud whistling of the water boiling and she shot to her feet, almost too fast and sped into the kitchen, glad for the distraction. Her hands quivered a little as she prepared the beverage and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. 

By the time, the tea was ready, her hands had stopped shaking enough to hand Liam the teacup without spilling it. As Elizabeth watched him take an appreciative sip, her mind raced. Her memories had reappeared in fragments over the last few weeks and she’d pushed them out of her mind, resigning herself to the fact that she was her old life and this was her new one, trying to convince herself that it was well in the past. She would have probably succeeded too if Liam hadn’t appeared on her doorstep like he did. Now that he was standing here, everything suddenly seemed so real, like his very presence was a slap in the face with the past. 

 ‘So you-‘ ‘

I gu-‘ 

They both started to talk at the same time and cut themselves off, laughing awkwardly. 

 ‘You first,’ Liam insisted and Elizabeth gulped, prepared herself to ask him… Wait what was she going to ask him? They were interrupted yet again but the slam of the front door and her brother Theo entering the living room. He stopped short when he spotted Liam, who rose to his feet and stuck out his hand in a gesture of friendship. 

‘You must be Theodore, Elizabeth’s older brother. I'm Liam.' 

'Yeah I know who you are,’ her brother replied icily, not moving to shake his hand, casting a questioning look at her.   

'Theo its fine,’ Elizabeth placated. ‘He’s just here to talk.' 

He gave her a doubtful look but eventually conceded, casting Liam a suspicious glare. 'I'll be in my room Aish if you need me.'

’Sorry about that,’ she began. 

’No its fine really,’ Liam put in. ‘He seems nice and I’m sure-‘ 

'Liam why are you here?’ Elizabeth burst out, unable to contain herself. 'Really? If its not to come take me back, what made you come here? I’m sure you wouldn’t put off running a country just to see how I was doing…' 

He ran a hand through his light hair, searching for the words. ‘You’re right…  Cordonia’s not the same. None of our friends are the same and... ’ His blue eyes bored into hers. ‘I know I said I wouldn’t force you to come back but… We…I miss you Liz.' 

‘Liam… I…’ Elizabeth was lost for words, even more confused than ever. This was the first time she could remember him ever calling her Liz.. Her nickname sounded different, almost intimate when he said it and she… didn’t know what to do with that feeling. 'What I did Liam… that kiss… I was very confused… and its hardly the right time.. I don’t.. I don’t know if I can give you what you’re asking...' 

‘I know. I just hoped… ,’ he hung his head, letting the silence stretch for a few moments before interrupting what a humourless chuckle. ‘You’d think I’d have learnt from the first time right..?’ 

‘Liam…’ Elizabeth sank to her knees before him, lacing a hand through his, attempting to do… what exactly? ‘I mean I could try… You could train me..and-and…’ And what? Her voice wobbled with uncertainty and Liam immediately picked up on this.

‘No Elizabeth...,’ he waved her off, the sadness in his voice cut her to the core. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that... It wouldn't be right for me to... to take advantage of you in your current frame of mind. The crown and I are one, marrying me comes at a cost. You’d never get just me.' 

‘Liam I’m sorry,’ she reached a hand up to touch his face, knowing in her heart this was for the best. 

That didn’t make it didn’t hurt any less. Liam’s eyes told her he felt the same too. This feeling right now, this pain in her chest hurt was different to than anything she’d ever experienced. To have to turn down this amazing man, a king… for the second time.. Cruelty wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

‘I wish…' 

‘Me too,’ he admitted, covering her hand with his. 'Elizabeth…. If it were not for the mantle of king on my shoulders-’ 

‘No,’ she returned, renewed fervour in her voice. ‘You’re a great king and you’re going to do fantastic things in your reign. You deserve someone who understands you and can appreciate you for the amazing man you are... I promise when you meet her, she’s going to show you why it never was going to be me anyway.’ 

They exchanged sad watery smiles before Elizabeth clasped him in a hug. ‘I’ll always love you Liam,’ she told him, head leaning on his chest.’ ...just not in the way that you need me to.’ His blue eyes settled on her, less turbulent than before and she heard him whisper something in Greek.  ‘ Αν δεν μπορώ να σε αγαπήσω ως εραστής, θα σ'αγαπάω ως φίλος.’

  'I-I don't... '

Liam sighed forlornly, not quite meeting her eyes as he translated. ‘If I can’t love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend.' 

'Oh Liam.' Elizabeth hugged him tighter, feeling his hands come up to caress her back and they stayed like that for a long moment. Eventually he released her and she felt to loss of warmth from where his arms had been. 

 ‘I should go.’ 

It wasn’t a question, rather a statement, something they both knew to be true. They had said all they needed to and prolonging their time together would only do more harm than good. Nodding, she released him wiping the moisture that had spilt down her face. 

 ‘You travelled a long way. A-are you sure?’ 

Liam nodded, settling his hands on hers. ‘There will always be a place for you in Cordonia, should you choose to take it. You told me once to live everyday to the fullest because we only have one chance at life and you wanted make yours mean something. Either way I know you’re going to do amazing things with your life Elizabeth Richmond.’ 

It was her turn to nod. 

Liam paused in the doorway. ‘Do me one last favour? Give Hana and Maxwell a call. They’ll be glad to hear from you. In fact I’m surprised Maxwell hasn’t flown over already.’ 

Elizabeth nodded, smiling a little at the memory of her friends, Hana’s soft features and Maxwell’s bright smile floating into her head. 

‘I will.’ 

‘Goodbye Elizabeth.’ 

‘Goodbye Liam.’ 

 With one last glance back at her, the king of Cordonia left her alone in the foyer, wondering if she’d made the same mistake a second time. 

 -

Tugging nervously at her hair, Elizabeth could not stop herself from fidgeting in her seat as the dial tone echoed through the living room. It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to finally doing it but after sending an impulsive text to Maxwell, she’d been inundated with emojis and gifs and roped into a Skype session. She was contemplating abandoning the entire idea and holing herself up in her room for the rest of the day when-  

‘LITTLE BLOSSOM!!’ Maxwell’s face appeared on the screen before the camera seemed to zoom in on his face suddenly. ‘I missed you! I mean we missed you! I’m just so happy I’m could hug you through the laptop. Can’t you feel it Elizabeth? Can you?!’ 

Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him actually attempting to hug the device. He was exactly like what she remembered. ‘I feel it Maxwell.’ 

‘Hey Elizabeth,’ Hana sidled into the frame, a shy smile on her lips. ‘Its good to see you.’ 

‘Likewise Hana. I’ve missed you two,’ she couldn’t hide the relief in her voice. 

‘Don’t forget this little guy!’ A wiggling bundle became visible on the screen. ‘Cooper, look thats your mum. Say hi Cooper!’ 

‘I have a corgi?’ 

‘You don’t just have a corgi Elizabeth,’ Maxwell answered looking momentarily horrified. ‘You’ve got the cutest, fluffiest, wiggliest corgi in all of Cordonia!’ He then proceed to shower the dog with a barrage of kisses. 

 ‘How's New York?’ Hana asked. 

 ‘New York is good... I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family which is nice. Especially since we weren’t on such good terms before. It's been nice to just relax and reconnect with everyone, almost like I’d never left..’ She trailed off, feeling strangely guilty for admitting that out loud as Hana nodded sympathetically on the screen. ‘How’s Cordonia?' 

‘Terrible! Its all doom and gloom here,’ Maxwell wailed. 'Liam’s been super busy trying to pull the country together with all these boring balls and functions. Bertrand’s been more uptight than ever — he won’t even let me do my famous party trick! I haven’t cut open a champagne bottle in weeks! Elizabeth say you’re coming back soon,’ he pleaded. ‘I need my partner in crime back!’ 

‘Uhh…’ 

 After Liam’s visit she’d been more confused than ever with memories returning in uncontrollable jumbled waves, leaving her exhausted and bewildered each time they appeared. There seemed to be no chronology to it and every time she attempted to arrange them into some sort of timeline, the effort to focus alone drained her mental energy. 

‘She will be back when she’s ready Maxwell,’ Hana put in firmly, noticing her discomfort. ‘And whenever that is we’ll be waiting for her with open arms.’ 

‘I guess you’re right,’ he agreed. ‘But please don’t take too long Liz, I don’t know how long I can fool the guards into letting me camp out in the airport.’ 

Elizabeth nodded vaguely, her mind somewhere else as she tried to muster up the courage to ask the question she’d been so apprehensive about.

‘How’s…how’s Drake?’ 

 On screen, Maxwell and Hana exchanged a knowing look before turning back to her. 

 ‘Liz….’ Something in Hana’s voice made her throat constrict a little and immediately she knew something wasn’t right.

 ‘Hana what happened?’ Elizabeth insisted, her voice shriller as she sat forward in her seat, stomach tangling into tighter knots. Her hands clenched together in anticipation, watching her friend sigh before answering. 

 ‘Elizabeth…' 

‘Hana just tell me. I promise I won’t freak out… I just… I just need to know if he’s okay.’ 

 The other woman swallowed thickly, her face crumpling as she spoke. ‘About a week ago Lord Neville challenged Drake to a duel, the first one Cordonia’s had in over a hundred years. Drake was in a bad place before it but he managed to win in the end, but Neville… he hit him hard and after the duel Drake passed out...  They took him to the hospital right after that and the doctors managed to stitch him up but the wound got infected... He’s been in hospital ever since.’ 

Tears had welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes as her friend related the incident to her. The guilt that had been simmering in the pit of her stomach bubbled over now and she hung her head in her hands. ‘How is he now?’ 

‘Liz…’ Maxwell’s voice was full of concern and empathy but she ignored him. 

 ‘I asked you a question Hana.’ It was like she was hearing herself talk through a tunnel. 'How is he now?' 

‘They managed to get the infection under control but I-We’ve never seen him this bad before… It takes a hard hit to knock Drake off his feet but… he’s down and it doesn’t look like he’s getting back up any time soon.’ 

 Each word that came out of her friend’s mouth stung like a snap of a whip to her skin. Her feelings towards Drake were… complicated at best from the conflicting memories that fogged up her head but Elizabeth knew one thing: She needed to see him. She’d left in the worst possible way and now if he was hurting, it was her fault. She needed to fix this.

-

‘You’re going where?’ 

Elizabeth faced her mother in their kitchen, both woman locked in a tense standoff. ‘I told you Amma. I’m going back to Cordonia and nothing you say is going to stop me.' 

‘Aishwarya you can’t just up and leave like this!’ Chanaya Richmond eyed her daughter indignantly. ‘இல்லை [No] I refuse. I will not have it. நீ போகவில்லை [You’re not going]. Give me your passport.’ 

Elizabeth held the document out of her mother’s reach. ‘I don’t care Amma. Its not up to you. I’m going and that’s final.' 

Rhea stepped in, having heard her daughter and granddaughter from their living room. ‘Chanaya போதும்! [enough] She’s a grown woman, not a little girl. She can decide for herself.' 

 ‘The last time she decided that she ended up on our doorstep with brain damage Amma. What if they hurt her again? I won’t have my daughter ridiculed and ruined on every newspaper front page! Those Cambodians-‘ 

‘Cordonians.’ 

‘எதுவாக [Whatever] They are the reason you got hurt in the first place. And now you want to go back to the same people who let you fall off a cliff?!’ 

 ‘Amma ஓய்வெடுக்க —‘ 

‘Don’t you tell me to relax! You can’t prance off to some foreign country and ask our family to sit back with that knowledge and hold that anger in.' 

Elizabeth’s mother whirled back to her, pointing an accusatory finger back at her. 'Besides how are you going to fly huh? You had brain injury. Did you not hear the doctor Aishwarya? You still get headaches, nausea, fatigue. What if you have a seizure on the plane?!’ 

‘I’ll be fine,’ Elizabeth argued back stubbornly. ‘I managed on the way here, didn’t I?’ 

 ‘You ended up collapsing on our front porch, soaking wet from the rain! You slept for three days after that.’ 

’Last time was rushed but this time, if it makes you happy I will apply for the disability package,’ she shot back. 'They have special procedures like optional wheelchair assist. Pre-boarding, skipping lines. Besides the doctor has already cleared me for flying. He’s given me extra medication to prevent seizures and blood coagulation. I’ll be fine Amma,’ her tone was softer now as she approached her mother’s teary form. ‘I’ll be okay I promise.' 

‘Aishwarya why do you leave me?’ Chanaya wailed. ‘Don’t you know how much heartache you’ve cost your poor Amma? You got hurt so bad. I can’t see that happening to you again maa [dear].’ 

‘It will be different this time. I promise.’ Elizabeth soothed, gently embracing her mother. ‘I’ll call you every day I’m there Amma.’ 

‘Every morning and every night,’ her mother demanded, eyeing her steely. 

‘Promise.’

-

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Cordonia International Airport. Please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign.' 

As the plane taxied to the gate, Elizabeth breathed a huge sigh of relief at the announcement, glad to have survived the long flight without any major incidents. Right now, in her mind, Cordonia represented everything that she had tried and failed to attain. She’d originally come to win the prince’s hand and the queenship and failed. She’d been bestowed the honour of duchess dom and had ultimately failed at executing her duties. She had found someone to marry for love and that had failed too. She’d come here looking for adventure but all she’d found was tragedy. This place had stolen a piece of her, her memories, her time that she wouldn't be able to get back. It had changed her as a person and she hadn’t decided whether that was a good or bad thing. She was still apprehensive about returning but in her heart she knew it was for the best.

Her mind however had been turning for the entire journey, with thoughts of Drake and what to expect when she went back. Was he okay? Would he be happy to see her? Or would he hate her entirely? Drake and her relationship with him (or lack thereof) was just one of the many things she was feeling that she didn’t know how to process. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of it all that made it worst. What if by some miracle he did want her back? Would she be able to give him what he needed? Or would they just crash and burn like they did the first time? She didn’t know if she was ready for a full on relationship after… The idea of being vulnerable and exposing herself to anyone at this stage seemed too much for Elizabeth to bear. 

In the long moments before the sleeping pills kicked in she wondered if this was just another huge mistake and if her mother was right: She shouldn’t have come back in the first place. After hours of ruminating on this, she’d come no closer to obtaining an answer and hesitantly allowing herself to be wheeled to the exit.

   Maxwell and Hana welcomed her with open arms as promised and for a long moment the three of them stood locked in a tightly embrace in the middle of the arrival hall. 

 ‘Oh little blossom, I’m so glad you’re back,’ Maxwell’s eyes shined with tears and if Elizabeth didn’t have ones of her own, she would have definitely teased him about it. 

 ‘C’mon,’ Hana urged. ‘Cooper’s waiting outside for you.’ 

As Elizabeth allowed herself to be lead away by her friends, a small part of the anxiety in her began to unwind. She’d missed the familiarity of it all and she smiled a little at how easy it was to fall into conversation with them again until they were all piled into the limo and speeding out of the parking lot. 

 ‘You must be tired from your flight,’ Hana began sympathetically.

 ‘Not as much as I thought I’d be actually,’ Elizabeth admitted. ‘I took something and it knocked me out for practically the whole thing. Where are we going again?’ 

‘We thought you’d need a rest and since its not visiting hours at the hospital yet, we thought you’d like to go back to Atlanta and get some rest..’ her friend trailed off, obviously trying gauging her reaction. 

‘That would make sense,’ she replied, trying to cover up her uncertain tone but the tension had already grown. 

 As Maxwell prattled on about the latest development in his hip-opera, obviously over the moon at her presence, that apprehensive feeling was back, sitting just behind her breastbone in a tight coil. 

When they reached the manor of her duchy, Elizabeth glanced up at the broad stone facade and tall towers that seemed to be looming over her in disdain. She felt herself shiver a little unable to shake the feeling off her. Standing here suddenly made everything more real and she knew she couldn’t back out now even if she wanted to. She was here. In Cordonia. And in a few hours she was about to lay eyes on the one man whom everyone assured, loved her most in the world. How had this been her life? Did she know what she was getting into when she came from New York with the Beaumonts that first time? Was this something she could come back to?

At Hana’s instruction, she attempted to take a nap, tossing and turning on the soft downy bed of the master bedroom, sleep evading her as all the previous thoughts plagued her mind again. Was Drake okay? Would he be happy to see her? Or would he hate her entirely? By the time she and Maxwell were pulling up at the hospital in the car, Elizabeth was a bundle of nerves. Suddenly every sensation was just too much and she wanted to shrink away from it all and just run, unable to fathom why it had been a good idea to come back here at all? Her avoidant thought processes were interrupted by Maxwell opening the door for her. 

 ‘You ready?’ A smile graced his features, smaller than it usually was but enough to elicit a hesitant one of her own. 

 Elizabeth gritted her teeth and nodded, quietly following him down the long pristine white corridors to where Drake’s room. With each step, the coil in her chest tightened and she was just about to turn tail and run when... she saw him.

It was just a quick glance through the viewing mirror of his hospital room but it was enough. He was lying in bed, covers drawn up around his waist, dressed in his familiar white t-shirt, gazing out of the window on the opposite side of the room, clearly unaware of her presence. But it was his expression and entire demeanour that really got to her. Hana was right… Never had she thought she’d see the day when Drake would look so completely and utterly… defeated. He was the first man to win a duel in over a hundred years, or so they told her. By all rights, he should have been celebrating. 

Seeing Drake again, with her own two eyes, reminded Elizabeth of how much he meant to her, of how much she still wanted him back. She knew she’d hidden from her memories, blocked them off on purpose in an attempt to silence them, hide them deep inside her, pretend that they’ve never existed but now when she was here and so was he, right her reach, his presence flooding her mind with all the memories she’d recovered. Elizabeth couldn’t stop thinking about the… possibilities each one held, in everything she remembered of him, she’d been happy. A real true happiness that she knew could never be replicated. Maybe if she couldn’t get him back, then maybe they could at least try to be friends? Because she’d rather have him as a best friend, right by her side then face the possibility of losing him forever again. 

That last thought was enough to calm her nerves enough to steady herself and prepare to afce the music. Her tension had not gone unnoticed as Maxwell sidled up to her. 

'You okay?’ 

 Elizabeth nodded and before she could lose her nerve, she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned the handle.   

-

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[thecorteztwins]

Ok so @shattered-catalyst since you asked here’s some stuff on the OCs that I’m developing >.> Under a cut cuz long eta: oh and @sammysdewysensitiveeyes since you asked for more too!

ASHTI YILMAZ 20something, Yazidi Kurd from Germany, receptionist at a ritzy spa Tender, wistful, melancholy, manipulative, explosive. Far more emotional than logical, and quick to let her bleeding heart and overpowering passion take her reins, whether in sympathy or anger. Easy to hurt, tease, and rile. Prone to sulking, pouting, and brooding, but can shout too when pushed far enough. Has strong feelings, but these make it hard for her to take a strong stance on complicated matters, since her emotions get pulled both ways. Always feels a little out of place. Beats herself up over little things. Fancies herself the mom friend but actually needs a mom friend. Moody, immature, unconditionally supportive. Will say awful things she doesn’t mean in anger and prone to emotional blackmail when upset. Fatalistic, often just accepts that powers that be must have a plan, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. Warm but wary; always friendly to new people externally, but inside she's on the lookout for any sign they dislike her or are making fun of her, which sometimes leads her to read too much into innocent remarks or innocuous expressions. Feels more experienced than people from more privileged lives and groups, but also like they’re smarter and more accomplished. Tendency toward tortured bad boys and getting her heart trod on. Ashti definitely has very normative ideas about gender. Nothing exceptional, just common generalizations like women are more emotional, little boys like the physical play, men can be total brutes whereas women attack with cattiness, etc. Ashti prone to romantization of bad relationships, like that jealousy means passion, control means protection, and sticking together through all your fights proves how strong your love is instead of calling it quits This not only means she is likely to get into and stay in toxic relationships herself, but give her friends dangerous advice to do the same when they come to her with romantic troubles One of her biggest flaws is she doesn't know her flaws. She thinks her flaws are being insecure, emotional, and loving too much. And these aren't untrue. But she's missing a whole lot of the less flattering, less endearing aspects of her personality. She’s always on the side of the common masses against those in power, but it’d be a lie to say she didn’t watch Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette “ on wistful repeat or secretly fantasize about somehow being the lost Princess Anastasia Romanov. MARAT ALIBEK 32, businessman from the city of Taraz in the Jambyl region of Kazakhstan - Seems confident and self-assured but also very businesslike at first meeting, playful and silly when with people he considers friends (while still being daring and upbeat) - Very sociable and sophisticated - Wants to be a heroic type of person but has never had occasion to put this into action - Has a fiery, go-getter personality, he charges forward and seldom stops Strength: Organizing and multitasking at work, gutsy and takes chances (can also be a weakness), loves a challenge (but only if he wins in the end), always knows what time it is Weaknesses: Impatient, competitive, doesn't want to look weak or lose face, sore loser, Raising your voice and being argumentative is common in business negotiations in Kazakh, even expected, but it does not go over as well in the US. He knows this, he tries to make sure he doesn't do it, but he might still do it and fuck up a meeting big-time. Has a small stutter, about every 7th word or so. It's not because he's shy or stressed, it's just how he speaks. Always has been. He was in speech therapy from ages 4 to 10, and this is as good as it's getting, and he learned to get over worrying at the tender age of 13, so everyone else can just chill too. He's the one who has to live with it, ok? The way he learned to be okay with it because when he was 13 was when kids really got MEAN about it, and weirdly, that galvanized him to be defensive and accept himself proudly in defiance, when previously he had been embarrassed. That tells you a lot about him right there. Since childhood, he's always had an imaginary  alter ego of himself as a traditional warrior on horseback, flanked by a pet eagle and snow leopard. TENZIN ALTING 38, art dealer/curator at a gallery, British-born with a Dutch father and Tibetan mother - Aloof, alluring, witty, smug and self-assured, and her confidence makes her fearless, adventurous, and optimistic, always ready to take risks, meet people, and try new things. This also means that she's prone to biting off more than she can chew, and having no idea how to cope when she's in over her head---though she can fake it quite gracefully! - Likes changes, challenges, rolling with the punches, and coming out on top flawlessly every time as she's become accustomed to - She really hates it when very intelligent people spout very ignorant views. They’re harder to argue with because they’ve got the brains to make their idiocy almost seem to make sense so there’s the peril of coming off looking like the dumb one herself if she isn’t just as keen and quick with her rebuttal…and if she’s not, then she feels not just like they’ve won, but that their viewpoint has scored a point. - She is independent to a fault. The fault being, she hates having to check with anyone about a decision she makes, or consider their input, or how her actions will affect them. Thus, she avoids these situations, but when she can't, and has to consider these things...she often just doesn't. Sometimes she genuinely forgets because she's so used to being a free agent, but sometimes she just deliberately disregards these things and expects the other person to just deal with it. But her independence also means that Tenzin owns her mistakes, her being the only one making her decisions means she’s the only one accountable for the blame INDRANI “RANI” YUAN 37, from Mauritius with a Tamil Indian mother and Hakka Chinese father Rani majored in environmental science and is an environmental engineer for a land development firm - A bright and driven go-getter - Persistent, practical, touchy, determined, responsible, all-business, no-nonsense - Hard time showing affection even to those she loves, she tries to express it through material means such as tickets to something they like - She is stingy and shrewd, and is not generous at all for the most part. The exception is people she's close to and genuinely cares about; she might spend downright extravagantly on her loved ones. Similarly, she's not charitable UNLESS it's for a tax write-off or it's to a cause she's truly invested in, usually something environmental. So she's not a total Scrooge, she just prioritizes. This does, unfortunately, often make her quite cold to those in need who don't make her cut. - Low-key sassy and assertive, glad to let fools fuck up and then not say "told you so" afterwards but DEMONSTRATE it - Uses bad humor in tough situations - Responsible, dependable, reliable - Craves stability and routine, and it's hard to find jobs in ecology conducive to that, which is why she worked for a company rather than something like a Fish and Wildlife Department - She is outspoken, argumentative, and has a hard time letting go of her positions even when she's internally realized they're flawed or wrong. It's a pride thing. She doesn't want to admit she was in error, especially if she has to admit it TO someone else. For instance, if she's having an argument with someone, and they bring up points that she's never considered, and she realizes "oh shit, they're right about this", her reaction is to feel threatened and thus dig her heels in even deeper in defense of her stance, even though she knows that's asinine. - She also has an easier time forgiving someone for being wrong than she does for being right, mainly if they proved her wrong in the process. - Rani tends to assume the worst, especially about people, especially about their responsibility and capabilities. She just doesn’t trust anyone but herself to do anything right. - She might be pessimistic about people, but she's positive and passionate about her work. She loves the environment and believes she can make a difference. Rani majored in environmental science and is an environmental engineer for a land development firm. It's extremely difficult for her to make her case to her superiors whenever it comes to making ecologically ethical decisions with their activities, but that's why she stays with the job; she doesn't believe anyone else could do it - Plays snooker. Takes more skill than billiards. KWANG 22, college student I guess? Recent grad? Born in Thailand in the Korat province but parents moved as soon as they could afford it, felt she’d have better opportunities and accomodations in the US, as she was born without legs * Kwang is a common Thai nickname for girls meaning "deer". In Thai culture, children are given very long formal names but then also a much shorter, usually-unrelated nickname which they are almost always called by instead. Her full FORMAL name is Khakkhanang Kannokkorn. Understandably, she typically introduces herself as Kwang Kan. It might seem a bit cruel to call a legless baby after an animal known for its graceful running and leaping, but to her parents it was a symbol of hope for her. * Very active, strong likes and dislikes, is social and outgoing and loves being liked by people. Gregariously informal, laidback attitude she's developed that helps put people at ease, since folks tend to get uncomfy when they meet her since they don't know how to act with someone with an obvious disability, how to be polite, how to avoid offending her, etc. So she presents herself as someone who isn't going to be easily offended. Which, she's not. Kwang is a chill, chill girl. However, she's also assertive, and not easily pushed around. She doesn't make a big deal of it unless pushed, though. That said, she never says things “Yes ma’am” more like “okay, since I have time” and “oh, alright, I kinda felt like doing that anyway” when told to do something. Just to make it clear she's doing this because she wants to, not because someone said so. She's got clear boundaries. She's also very confident in herself, and seldom feels the need to justify her tastes, opinions, or decisions to others. She's the girl who would like Twilight and One Direction without shame or the need to say she was only enjoying it "ironically". Likewise, she extends the same courtesy to others; you don't need to convince her that it's fine for you to like something. She won't lie if she doesn't like it, but she's also not making a judgement call on you for it. You read that bad fanfic, girl, if that's what you like, and don't let anyone make you feel bad for it. Snobbery of any sort sucks, even the counterculture kind, and she rolls her eyes at people who proudly complain how "weird" they are compared to "boring normal people" like what are you thirteen? If all you've got to define yourself is being unlike the norm, then that's still letting the norm define you. * Kwang ditches negative people, including those who treat others badly(even if they treat her well) but also those she couldn’t support through a bad time. * Strengths: Great sense of direction/good navigator, you know how when you’re having problems with someone but they’re really close to you, like your best friend, so you don’t know how to bring it up because you’re afraid of what will result? She’ll do it for you, she'll walk up to them and tell them what the issue is, but she still thinks you should do it yourself. Very open romantically and tends to make the first move with no nerves or hesitation * Likes: Fruit salad, phone charms, beach/swimming toys (especially huge ones you can ride), old-school polaroid cameras/photos, big colorful ear-covering headphones, stickers on her stuff, obstacle course shows (ex: American Ninja Warrior) *Dislikes: Long discussions, people trying to make something "all philosophical" when it doesn't need to be or are using big words in an attempt to sound smarter than everyone else (brevity is the soul of wit, dude), when people think she watches extreme sports out of some sad wistful longing for legs like what she can't just like seeing people kick ass snowboarding?, most dairy (ice cream and frozen yogurt being the exceptions), butt chins (she feels bad about this because she knows better than anyone you don't get to choose stuff like that but THEY JUST BOTHER HER) Kwang doesn’t have patience for people who clearly just enjoy being sad or who she feels are trying to manipulate others into “bringing them out of their shells” for attention. Like, you say you don’t wanna go to Prom? Okay then, she isn’t going to try to convince you, she’s just gonna go have a good time herself. What, why are you sulking? Is that what you WANTED? Yeah, she’s got no time for that DIONNE GOLD Black trans woman, 28, Customer Service Rep for a luxury goods boutique , comes from Trinidadian-American family in Naranja, Florida * *Named self after the Ancient Greek word for a goddess (dion), Gold for the connotations of beauty and glamour and VALUE. * Fastidious, fussy, perfectionist, uptight, a Virgo in Leo's clothing * She puts on a bold, confident front, all glamor and poise, but it's not the real her, she's so much softer and unsure than she tries to seem * Her real flaw is fear, specifically fear of rejection and vulnerability to being rejected; she was afraid at the prospect of being rejected by her family, so she ran away. She wants to reconnect with them but is too afraid to, for the same reason. She puts on a false personality, because she's scared of the real her being rejected. It goes on and on. And she’s got good reason for it. But she still managed to embrace who she is and go through with everything she needed to feel like she was finally herself. * Strengths: Great memory, great poker face, hard worker, incredible patience, very reliable * Weaknesses: Over-critical and judgey, pouty and passive-agressive when she has a problem with something or someone instead of addressing it head-on, uptight and easily bothered by small things, needs everything just-so. - Poor spender; after four years of denying herself even the smallest of non-essential purchases in order to save for HRT and SRS, she's now splurging to make up for her years of asceticism. She especially can't resist things like dresses, shoes, and jewelry; after not ever getting to be a little girl, she's going through her long-overdue princess phase now, and can't seem to stop. - Really wants to comfort her friends and will always try, but she's bad at giving advice to friends, her reaction is mostly to just go "there there" and agree with everything they say when they talk about their problems. - She is also bad at keeping secrets if they’re something that causes her guilt, such as concealing something she feels is immoral or that the other person should own up to, but good at it if it's a secret that could put them in danger if others knew (since she's used to keeping THAT kind of secret about herself) This one didn’t make it on to the sketch, but here’s another: AVERY RUE UNDERWOOD White American trans girl, early 20s, goth She can recite "Cassilda's Song" by heart, and talk for hours about the racism and insanity of Lovecraft, and how both these things are misunderstood and misconstrued equally by his devotees and detractors alike. Her icon is Mommy Fortuna from The Last Unicorn, who chose her death and kept it close to her, caged and hers til the end when it tore her to pieces--welcomed by her with open arms, still hers, hers forever. Collects antique silver plated hair brushes. She thinks a lot about how everyone has a life and internal thoughts and we just don’t know we can never really know another person. She likes to go to lonely personal blogs and Twitter accounts and the like and just follow. She rarely “likes” and even more rarely comments, she just wants to watch this little window into a random life that doesn’t have an audience to be performing for like the big accounts. Maybe it’s creepy and voyeuristic but she feels such a strange tenderness for these screen names that she never speaks too. They’re human souls, every one of them. And maybe there’s no God to hear them, but she does. Studies existentialist, nihilist, and absurdist philosophy. She learns less towards the middle, more towards the other two. Morbid and macabre she might be, but she's an idealist at her core. Some of her other interests include obscure mental disorders (Cotatd’s delusion, Capgras syndrome) , photos of the decomposition process, and the historical use of plants as both cures and poisons. She feels kinship with carrion-eaters like buzzards and hyenas, society sees them as disgusting and evil but they play an integral part in the ecosystem She believes that existence precedes essence. So she doesn't believe she was born with a female soul or anything like that. She just doesn't believe she was born with a male one either. Her family is best described as "neutral" in terms of acceptance. They're not at all hateful, and barely questioned her decision, but they're not involved closely enough with her to be really called "supportive" at all. Everyone in her clan, including herself, are too wrapped up in their own lives to really care one way or the other about each other's, and she's good with that. She prefers it. She'd rather not be interviewed, even from people trying to be helpful; this is deeply personal to her and she finds it invasive. She is pretty good at “being the bigger person “ and not escalating things in a conflict, if only because she just doesn’t give enough of a shit to. She tolerates getting yelled at, even undeservedly, really well. She’d be brilliant in retail, she can cope with Karens all day long and not snap or get worn down. Apathy is a hell of a shield. She doesn’t hold on to people, this is good and bad. On the one hand, it means she escapes jealousy and co-dependency and needing anybody. On the other hand, some people feel it makes her disloyal or uncaring. But she's an island, and she accepts the transience of life. She doesn’t seek outside validation or feel the need to be seen as right even when she knows she is. This has allowed her to avoid a lot of arguments and stress. She might not fear violence from a philosophical viewpoint, but she sure does in her natural animal instincts. This makes her edgy around certain demographics. Straight men, religious people, right-wingers, those sorts of groups. You could argue that she's unfairly stereotyping them, much as others have unfairly stereotyped her and people like her. Sure, fair enough, but she'd still rather avoid getting her head bashed in as much as she can. It's not that everyone in these groups is a violent bigot, it's just if there's going to be a violent bigot, they're statistically more likely to be in these groups. Like when was the last time you heard of a transgender woman being murdered by a liberal lesbian atheist, right? So yeah, she's stereotyping. But she'd rather be alive and a "reverse bigot" than fair-minded and dead. She's not THAT much of nihilist. Avery’s self esteem is best defined as contrarian, taking pride in herself more based on what she’s not rather than what she is, and playing Devil’s Advocate to her own ego. She’s the first to admit that not being something bad is not the same as being something good, and in fact tends to disdain those who do the same as she does and praise themselves simply for not being fascists or bigots or abusers, but it seems like the best she can successfully argue to herself. LIKES: * Urban legends, occultism, cryptids, preserved oddities, the unknown * Deep seas, the night sky, vast storms, huge caves, eternal forests * The crowded isolation of the city at night * Abandoned buildings * The sigh and feel of old velvet and raw silk * Deep sea creatures and weird starfish and giant squids * Hozier, The Sisters of Mercy, Cocteau Twins, Black Tape For A Blue Girl, lo-fi, dreampop, shoegaze, every Lumineers song that has a girl's name as the title, and obscure local alternative bands that the art college radio stations only play late at night * Djarum Black clove cigarettes * Symbolist paintings (especially "Salome" and "Sisyphus" and "The Sin" by Franz Stuck) * Angela Carter, Caitlin R. Kiernan, T.K. Kingfisher, and Nabokov's lesser-known novels like Pnin and Pale Fire DISLIKES * Pettiness * The smell of smoking meat, it makes her nauseous, and she's never been able to stomach a steak * Trimmed lawns and pruned gardens * The hypocritical pretentiousness so commonly found in any “alternative “ scene * So-called "horror movies" that are really just gross-out torture porn * Creepypastas that over-explain or don't know when to end * People who pride themselves on "sticking to their guns no matter what" as that seems to her to just be another way of saying they never listen to other opinions or new information because they're so sure in their own rightness * People who forget that everyone else has as much depth and life as themselves, you’re not the protagonist and these aren’t NPCs in a game * Avery is an Aquarius and even though she doesn’t believe in astrology, she still likes reading about it, and it bugs her that her sign is classed as “positive “ and “masculine" * Misuse of the term "social construct" WEAKNESSES * Gives up easily; her transition is really the only difficult thing she's ever stuck with * Navel gazing, over-thinking, gets lost in her own head * Can't make a hard decision quickly * Insomniac * Loses track of time easily * Messy slob, her apartment is DISGUSTING, don't ever be roomies with this girl * She doesn't own a car, but she can drive. She just can't park. She's terrible at parking. She goes in crooked, she goes over the line, she has to pull out and go in again a million times to get it right. STRENGTHS * Comfort with solitude, doesn't get lonely * Equally at ease with both existentialism and nihilism * A veritable whiz with subway routes and schedules * Doesn't sweat the small stuff * Hopeful at her core

[captainscanadian]

Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Poornima)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Perhaps Bucky Barnes should thank his insomnia for being the reason why he met you. But you should thank the Hindu God of Love and Compassion for bringing Bucky into your life. 

Word Count: 4500+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader

Warnings: MINIMAL TAMIL SONG LYRICS (I’m more than happy to translate!) & TAMIL CULTURE, References to Hinduism, PTSD, Insomnia, Endgame References. 

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles​‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabhrata and Ramayana. @jalapenobarnes​ & @fafulous​, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, MY CHELLANGALA! 

It had been five months since the final battle against Thanos and his army had taken place. With Tony Stark’s demise and Steve Rogers’ decision to return to the past, Bucky Barnes found himself trying to reintegrate into society on his own and to the best of his ability. 

Rhodey had been kind enough to offer him one of the spare residential apartments at the Avengers’ compound, and Sam was there to provide him with some counselling for the time being. There had been some talks about a designated therapist being appointed at the facility, but nothing had been finalized about that. It was very much needed though, as all of the heroes had suffered severe amounts of trauma due to the blip. Bucky wasn’t alone in that. 

Even when he had a compound full of the earth’s mightiest heroes to aid him in his recovery, Bucky still felt as though he was going through it all on his own. He felt disconnected from reality and unbelievably lonely in this particular battle. Not to mention having to lose the one person whom he had known his whole life to old age. He really was alone in this battle with his own mind. There was no denying that. 

While the rest of the team were slowly getting back into going on missions, he could not do the same. He had been fighting his whole life and needed to stop at some point. But it was easier said than done. 

Bucky had a much harder time adjusting to life after the blip, considering that he was also trying to cope with more than seventy years of torture along with literally ceasing to exist in a matter of seconds. It seemed as though he could never get a break. 

Needless to say, it was a rarity for Sergeant Barnes to sleep through the night. He would wake up in a cold sweat from some murderous nightmare almost every single night since he had fully moved into the compound. Finding himself unable to fall back asleep, he would pace back and forth in his bedroom until the crack of dawn before joining Sam for his usual workout session at the facility’s gym. 

It was one of those dreadful nights when he had found himself having woken up from a nightmare. Pacing back and forth in his bedroom for what seemed like hours and desperately in need of some fresh air, he decided to step outside of his living quarters and take a walk around the compound. Being cooped up in his bedroom until the morning did not seem all that helpful to Bucky, so he might as well make use of the quietness of the night and sit by the lake for a few hours in hopes that it would calm down his nerves. 

He still hadn’t told Sam about his nightmares, fearing that it might make the rest of the team feel weary about him. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to assume that the Winter Soldier was still buried deep within him. He wanted to forget him and move on with his life in the twenty-first century, even though he couldn’t just walk away from his guilt. 

Throwing on his henley over his sweatpants, Bucky slipped into his shoes and stepped out into the brisky full moon night. He walked across the freshly cut grass, his destination being the lonely bench by the water where he would find refuge until the morning. But it wasn’t until he had reached the boardwalk that led up to the gazebo did Bucky realize that he wasn’t the only one who was up at this hour. 

He saw the unfamiliar woman huddled under an oversized hoodie who sat cross legged on the bench. A pashmina scarf that was patterned with peacock feathers wrapped around her shoulders as she stared out into the moon’s reflection against the lake. 

He stopped for a moment, wondering who she might be. He hadn’t seen her around the compound before, but he did not feel threatened by her presence either. After all, the compound was an extremely private property. Not everyone could easily enter the compound, or stay overnight as this woman was. And if there was one thing that Bucky knew about the occupants of the facility - everyone was meant to be a friend. 

As the full moon reflected against the lake, the woman shrugged off her hood to reveal her thick curly hair that had been tied into a ponytail. A sigh escaped her lips as she pulled her scarf up to her neck. 

She hummed an unknown tune for a moment before singing rather softly, in a language Bucky had never heard before. Yet he could not deny that she had the sweetest voice on the planet.  

Nila malarntha iravinil thendral ulaavidum nadhiyil

Neela nirathu baalagan oruvan kuzhal oodhi nindraan

Kaalamellaam.. Kaalamellaam avan kaadhalai enni 

Urugumo en ullam…

Kaatrinile varum geetham

Kaatrinile varum geetham

Kangal panithida pongum geetham

Kallum kaniyum geetham

Kaatrinile varum geetham

Bucky’s lips curled into a small smile as he gathered up the courage to approach her, taken over by his own curiosity and certainly in need of a distraction from the reason why he had woken up at this hour in the first place. 

The sound of his footsteps approaching had startled you slightly, making you gasp in response and turn around. Your eyes grew wide upon coming face to face with this rather familiar man although you were strangers. If it wasn’t his bright blue eyes or silky long hair that made you recognize him, the moonlight reflecting off of his metal hand certainly confirmed that he was exactly who you thought he was. 

Up until now, you had only read about him in books and watched videos of him in the archival footage from the Second World War. Seven years ago, you had seen him on the news when he had been framed for the Vienna attack. But now seeing him in person, you could tell that he was anything but what the news outlets had made him out to be. He was an innocent man who meant no harm, and that made you feel at ease about his presence. 

The super soldier froze in his tracks upon gaining your attention, his eyes growing wide at the realization that he had startled you. “Uh… hi.” He gave you a rather nervous smile as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“Sergeant Barnes.” You did not realize that you had been holding onto your breath until you exhaled upon saying his name. It was a sigh of relief and gratitude that you hadn’t been attacked by an unknown threat at the witching hour. 

“Bucky.” He corrected you as he walked up to the gazebo. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh no, it’s fine… I just didn’t think anyone else was awake at this time.” You gave him a small smile as you shifted across the bench to make some room for him. “And I hate to admit that… recent events have caused me to act extra vigilant at times.” 

“That makes two of us.” Bucky admitted with a sigh, walking around the bench to take a seat next to you. 

You chuckled softly before nodding. “What’s got you up at this hour, Bucky?” 

“Just couldn’t sleep.” He told you, not wanting to disclose the truth about his insomnia to a complete stranger. “How about you?”

“Jet lag.” You shrugged. “A few hours ago, I was relaxing on a farm in India. But now I’m in this highly secure compound that’s home to earth’s mightiest heroes. Sleep seems to be the last of my worries at the moment.”

Bucky was growing more curious about you, but he could not help but crack a smile at your choice of words. “Forgive me for not being aware of who you are, but I… I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” 

“Oh right, I’m so sorry. I should have introduced myself.” You chuckled softly as you held out your hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, former SHIELD Agent and… currently second-in-command to Agent Hill. I’m here to oversee the Avengers while Agent Hill and Director Fury are busy with an undisclosed mission.” 

“Hm… you’re the new boss lady that everyone’s been talking about.” Bucky noted, laughing softly as he shook your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Agent Y/L/N.” 

“Y/N.” You clarified, laughing softly. “I’m not sure how a mortal non-enhanced inexperienced human being like myself could ever be the boss of the finest team of superheroes. Just hours ago, I was living a fairly normal life on my family’s dairy farm in South India… hiding out from the harsh realities of the world, milking cows and hand churning butter. But Fury plucked me out of there, threw me on a Quinjet and told me that I was meant for something more than being a milkmaid… which according to him was leading the Avengers. Really puts my life into perspective, doesn’t it?” 

He could not help but laugh softly at that, nodding his head in agreement. “Take it from the guy who was raising a bunch of goats in Wakanda before I was yanked  from there and into the war against Thanos. After all that I’d been through, you’d think that I would want to stop fighting. And I do… sometimes, I want a normal life. I want to figure out my place here. But one thing I had to learn the hard way was that normal is relative and the best you could do is… try to find your new normal.” Perhaps, Bucky should take his own advice. “What’s the worst that could happen, right?” 

“I have to be the boss of War Machine and the Falcon.” You reminded him. “Nothing worse could happen to me.”

Laughing softly, he shook his head. “Honestly, I’d pay to see that birdbrain be bossed around by someone.”  He admitted. 

But unbeknownst to him Sam had become quite fond of you after the events of the Battle of the Triskelion and he knew a little more about your interest in his supersoldier friends than the rest of the team. You better hope that he wouldn’t try to spill the beans to Bucky in an attempt to embarrass you. 

“So, what’s your first order of business as the new lady of the house?” Bucky asked you. 

You looked over at him before letting out a sigh. “My first order of business? Give my best friend the farewell she deserved. She sacrificed her life to save the world and no one even bothered to give her a proper funeral. I’ve made arrangements at the local Hindu temple in the city... to do what I can to pray that she rests in peace. She never believed in any of that, but I do.” 

The next day, you found yourself rearranging the furniture around your living quarters, which was coincidentally adjacent to Bucky’s. You had set up a shrine for Lord Krishna in the corner of your living room, a few brass and wooden idols that you had brought from home arranged on a shelf along with a few oil lamps.

You were certainly grateful that Director Fury had allowed for you to pack your bags before he had flown you out here, considering that you wouldn’t have been able to live without your idol of Radha and Krishna no matter where you went. You may be a high ranking SHIELD Agent, but you were always a devotee of Lord Krishna before anything else. Being thousands of miles away from home was not going to change that. 

A framed portrait of Natasha Romanoff hung in your office, a flower garland hanging around it. A part of you was well aware that she would loathe the fact that you had taken things this far, but you had your own beliefs. She was your best friend, so you would honour her in everything you did. 

“Nick’s never been wrong about anything, Nat. I sure hope he wasn’t wrong about me either.” You thought to yourself, hoping that she’d heard you from wherever she was and that she was rooting for you to succeed in this new job that had just fallen into your lap. 

Bucky had been sitting in the common kitchen when you had walked in. A smile on his lips upon seeing you enter, he kept his head down on the plate of eggs in front of him. He was not one to make small talk during breakfast and usually kept to himself, but that was about to change momentarily. 

“Good morning, folks.” You greeted the team before pouring yourself a cup of coffee and pulling up a chair for yourself between Sam and Wanda. “I was hoping to catch up with some of you before you all went off to do your own things.” 

The Falcon smiled as he leaned over to pull you into a side hug. “I missed ya, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you did, Wilson.” You chuckled softly as you returned his hug. “It is good to be back. I was getting pretty lonely without you guys.” 

“Mornin’ Y/N.” Rhodey greeted you from the stove as he flipped his omelette and looked over at you with a smile. “You want some breakfast?”

“No, thank you, Rhodey. I just ate at the temple.” You told him with a shrug. “But I do have something to ask you… if you wouldn’t mind, could you round up the whole team for a briefing tomorrow morning? As much as I would love to lounge around, I do have work to do.”

“Will do..” 

“So, Fury really did leave you in charge, huh?” Sam asked you with his eyebrow raised. “But why you?” 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” You admitted, laughing softly before taking a sip of your coffee. “As far as I know, him and Agent Hill are away on an undisclosed mission and won’t be around to oversee the Avengers. For some reason, he trusts me to do that for him.” 

“To be honest, I’m glad it’s someone we know and love.” Wanda smiled at you. “We wouldn’t take orders from anyone else.” 

“My job’s pretty simple though. I oversee your missions, you report to me. I really hope you don’t put me in a position where I would need to reprimand your asses or have to snitch on you to Fury. I know that the last few months have been rough for all of you… it’s been rough for me too. But we all have work to do so… let’s just… figure out a way to get back into the swing of things, yeah? The least thing I want is to have to be a boss from hell.”

“Yes, ma’am…” Sam gave you a nod before turning over to look at Bucky. “Have you two met yet?”

“Yeah, we have.” You replied, taking a sip of your coffee as you prayed to Lord Krishna that the Falcon wouldn’t spill the beans at that moment. From the look on his face though, you knew he wanted to. “Very briefly.” 

“Have you geeked about your thesis like you did with Cap?” He asked. 

Wanda almost choked on her toast as he mentioned your thesis. “Oh God… not her thesis.” She shook her head, but you knew that she was enjoying this just as much as her fellow Avenger. 

After all, it had been a running joke during your time working with the Avengers to give you shit about your choice of study during your time at graduate school. Tony and Nat were the ones who gave you the most shit about it, and would probably be thrilled to know that their legacy when it came to this had certainly lived on with Sam and Wanda. Perhaps, keeping the joke going would give you all a sense of normalcy, as embarrassing as it was for you. 

“Sam, please don’t…” You shook your head, avoiding the supersoldier’s gaze as you took another sip of your coffee. “I just got here.” 

Bucky looked over at Sam with a rather confused expression on his face. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed. “Nothing important…”

“Don’t lie to him, Y/N.” Rhodey scolded you, which was followed by a snicker. “He’s going to have to find out at some point.” 

“Come on, Rhodes. You’re not taking their side on this.” You groaned before deciding to give in. As Bucky Barnes had told you last night, what’s the worst that could happen, right? “Fine, Sam… knock yourself out.”

A smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his coffee, Sam Wilson turned over to look at Bucky and wiggled his eyebrows. “Before Y/N joined SHIELD as an agent, she was a grad student at NYU. She taught a history class on the Second World War.” 

“She did her master’s thesis on the Howling Commandos.” Rhodey added. “I hate to say it as it is, Barnes, but she’s kind of obsessed with you.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and sunk in your seat. The last time you were this embarrassed, Nat had told Captain America that you were obsessed with him and then tried to set you up on a date with him. “It wasn’t an obsession. It was an academic interest. I’m a published academic and I expect you to treat me as such.” 

“She was obsessed.” Sam corrected, causing you to smack him in his arm. 

“Hey, watch your mouth. I’m supposed to be your boss now.” You pointed out, rolling your eyes before you took another sip of your coffee. 

Bucky finally lifted his gaze from his breakfast to meet your eyes, his bright blue ones gleaming with a slight amusement. “You studied history and then started working for SHIELD?”

“History and politics, actually.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “My father was a diplomat, so I always saw myself having a career in international relations. But that just never happened, so I decided to become an agent.” 

“What made you want to become an agent though?” 

“My grandmother. She told me that an Indian girl like me was not meant for a career in diplomacy, and that my place was within the household and not the UN. She said that I belonged in the kitchen, serving a husband.” You replied, chuckling softly. “I just became an agent out of spite, to prove to myself that I was actually meant for something more than just being a typical Indian wife. But I stuck around until the very end of SHIELD because I wanted to do what was right. That’s why I’m still here.” 

That night Bucky found himself tossing and turning in bed once again. Even if he did manage to fall asleep though, the pitter patter of the rain against his bedroom window had woken him up in an instant and caused him to struggle to fall back asleep. He eventually decided to give up on his attempt to get some shut eye that night and climbed out of bed. He just had to admit that his insomnia was going to get the worst of him. 

Stepping out of his living quarters, he decided to head towards the facility’s gym in hopes that working up a sweat would somehow tire him enough for him to sleep it off. But the moment he heard the clashing sound of what seemed like pots and pans coming from the common kitchen, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. 

The whiff of melted butter wafted up his nostrils and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was unsure if anyone at the compound would be up at this witching hour, let alone cooking up a storm. For as long as he’s resided at the facility, he hadn’t really seen anyone cook. Usually, Sam or Rhodey would make breakfast for the rest of the team. Other than that, the common kitchen was rarely used. 

But Bucky followed the aroma of butter and spices over to the kitchen to see your sleepless self, much to his surprise. 

Dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and an NYU hoodie, you trotted bare footed around the kitchen, your curly hair tied up in a bunch and bouncing on top of your head as you danced around to the music that was playing from your phone. 

Avvaaru nokinaal evvaaru naaduven

Kannaadi mun nindru paarthu kondaen

Ondraaga seithida oru nooru naadagam

Othigai seidhu edhir paarthirundhen

In your own little zone as you stirred a pot of what seemed like rice and vegetables, you paid no heed to the supersoldier who stood against the doorframe and watched as you cooked.  On the counter laid several platters of multiple dishes that he had never heard of and he wondered how long you had been up if you had managed to make that many dishes through the night. 

Edhir paaramaley avan

edhir paaramaley avan

“Y/N?”

You gasped as you turned around to see Bucky standing by the entrance to the kitchen. “Bucky.”

oh.. pin irundhu vandhu ennai

pambaramaai sulatri vittu

ulagunda pervaayan endhan

vaayodu vaai padhiththaan

As you stood there stunned by his sudden arrival, your cheeks heated up in embarrassment yet again. You wondered how long you had been standing there. The song playing from your phone continued on, but as your lips moved along to the words as your eyes stayed glued to his bright blue ones. 

Ingu boologam endroru porul ulladhai

indha poongodhai marandhaal adi

But you snapped out of it before the next verse of the song, and quickly turned down your music. “Bucky, what are you doing up this late?”

“Hi… sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” His lips curled into a smile as he walked into the kitchen, eyeing the platters of food you had laid out on the counter. “But what are you doing up this late?”

“I hate to admit it, but… the homesickness is really kicking my ass.” You admitted, laughing softly before you motioned towards the counter. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to splurge out on some South Indian comfort food.” 

“Hm…” He nodded, looking down at the food and back at you. “Must be hard being back here when you could be relaxing on a farm in India.” 

Turning off the stove and removing the pot of your rice dish from the heat, you set it next to the rest of the food on the counter. “Well, it’s not just relaxing though. Yeah, sure it’s quiet and it’s nice to just… take care of your cows and live off of fresh dairy without a care in the world. But the farm was my home, you know? It’s where I grew up, before all of that chaos with SHIELD and HYDRA...  and Thanos. The farm was my happy place, but it’s just not the same anymore. It’s not the same without my grandmother… and my father” You admitted, sighing. “Change is not something that I was able to get used to.”

“That makes two of us.” Bucky agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. “It hasn’t been easy… trying to catch up.” 

“I can imagine.” You nodded as you cleaned up the kitchen, not wanting to leave behind a mess when Sam or Rhodey came down to make breakfast in the morning. “Then it’s a good thing that you’ve got a history major as your next door neighbor, huh?”

His smile grew wide at your words, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I thought you majored in The Howling Commandos, doll. Are you sure that makes you an expert on what happened after the war?” 

You crossed your arms against your chest. “To think that I spent years studying your life... only for you to undermine my expertise a decade later.” You shook your head as you laughed. “Come on, I’m going to need some help eating all this food.” 

“Uh… okay?” Truth be told, he wasn’t going to assume that you were going to eat the entire amount of food you had made since it did seem like too much food for one person. He could not help but wonder if you had figured out his secret when you had offered to share the food with him. “You know, I’ve never had Indian food before. But Sam’s told me that it’s spicy.” 

As you grabbed a few of the platters and set them on a cart so that you could bring it up to your quarters, you turned back to look at him. “I’m sure you’ve had some well-seasoned food in Wakanda though. I can’t imagine your taste buds being completely dead with all of the boiled and unseasoned nonsense that they used to call food back in the forties.” 

Bucky snickered at your words as he lent you a hand on transferring the big pot of rice onto the cart. “You can’t trash the food of the forties. It was the Great Depression, Y/N.” He defended, to which you rolled your eyes. 

“I looked into your family records, Sarge. Apparently you guys owned a car during the Great Depression… which I refused to believe until Steve was able to confirm when I asked him out of utter curiosity. You must have been loaded.” You pointed out, teasingly. “It’s a shame that all that money couldn’t have gotten you any kind of seasoning.” 

“Alright, if you’re going to drag me through mud… then perhaps I might cook for you some time.” He offered. “In return of you sharing this food with me and to show you that I’m not a completely unseasoned man.” 

You raised your eyebrow at him as you walked over to the fridge, grabbing the rolled up banana leaf that you had left in there. “If you insist, then I’ll have you know that Wakanadan lamb is out of the question. I’m vegetarian.” 

“Good to know.” He agreed as he began walking back towards the door, his metal arm pulling the cart of food along with him. “May I know the reason why?” 

“I’m Hindu.” You replied, shrugging. “I don’t eat red meat because my beloved Hindu god, Lord Krishna... was said to be a cowherd. But dairy’s fine though. Krishna loved butter and so do I.”  

Having been raised Protestant in the 1930s, he could not help but feel slightly curious about your religion. He was no stranger to the never-ending battle between the Protestants and the Catholics across the pond, something that he had learned after befriending Steve and meeting his Irish immigrant mother. 

But he never would have realized that there were much more religions in the world when he was a boy. But now in the twenty-first century, all he could do was learn more about the different people in the world that seemed to have shrunk since the Great Depression. He had learned as much as he could during his two years in Wakanda. But he wanted to learn more, to readjust to life in the twenty-first century. So he might as well start with the woman who lived next door. 

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 29.08.17 lb

plain text version here. 

lo shuru sanskaari music. 🙄🙄🙄

never getting over the “fuck me” bedroom eyes they’re giving each other. 😏😏😏

gauri feeding shaktiiii cake. gosh, what even do you call it when you start shipping a new parental figure for a character? there are no words in fandom culture for all the dynamics this show makes me ship!!!! 😫😫😫

... such unnecessary tension. just eat the damn cake, omkara. 😒😒😒

shivika giving each other “kuch karnaaa padegaaaa” looks 🙃🙃🙃

yes plz, turn for you to play shipper now. yell at omkara alternately till he fucking fixes this ish. 😒😒😒

shaktiji is practically glowing from all the #shivika shipping. happiness is a good look on him. 😊😊😊

who’da thunk that i’d eventually be rooting for shakti as the good parent? in any case, he did less damage than pinky, so there’s that. 😕😕😕

god i hate this stupid “abhi tak shaadi nahi hui hai, toh door raho” nonsense in remarriage tracks. they were living together for more than six months. they could have been having crazy monkey sex in that time for all you know. bloody nonsense. 😑😑😑

i am happy that anika looks just as dismayed as shivaay at this development. 😌😌😌

LMAO RUDRA, HAATH KO AAYA PAR MOOH NA LAGA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

the dubbing of this damn scene... 😐😐😐

ohhhhhhhh great. pinky’s here to fuck up the happy. 😒😒😒

omkara’s instant bitch face. love itttttttt. 😆😆😆

nope. shakti is firmly #teamShivika. SHAKTIJI OUT!!!!!!!!! 😙😙😙

i think omki took that “8 baje kamre ka darwaaza bandh” instruction from rudra a little too seriously. he looks mad at shivaay for making him leave this late at night. 😋😋😋

honestly #me. don’t you make me leave my bed/room after 8 pm. you won’t like my grumpy ass. 😒😒😒

OMG YES THEY BROUGHT UP THE “ROTE HUE AAYEGA MERE PAAS” DIALOGUE!!! WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR ITTTTTTTT 😭😭😭😭

omki’s excitement and glee at shivaay’s happiness. oh my heart. my boys. my beautiful boysssssss. 😭😭😭

4 LIONS MEN GOING FROM GROWLY ASSHOLES TO SOFT PUSSYCATS WHO ARE SO HAPPY TO BE IN LOVE IS MY ULTIMATE FAVE THING EVER OK *weeps* 😭😭😭😭😭

saansein ruk jaati hai was anika’s thing. and di’s thing to arnav. not omki’s to shivaay’s. 😕😕😕

I LOVE HOW SHIVAAY MADE OM COME SEE HIM IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT JUST SO HE CAN GEEK OUT ABOUT BEING IN LOVE AND HOW BEAUTIFUL HIS GIRL IS 😚😚😚😚

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BOYSSSSSSSSSSSSS 😭😭😭😭

“sabse pehle main tujhse bataane aa gaya” BECAUSE HE’S YOUR PERSONNNNNNN. 💖💖💖

awwww man, i’m just so happy and weepy from all the feeelz. 😭😭😭😭

lol omki yelling at him for telling HIM first instead of anika. 😊😊😊

“i think i need a hug. i think we both need a hug.”

HAWWWWWWWW WITHOUT RUDRA?????? 😯😯😯

THIS HUG THO. MY BOYS. MY BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL BOYS. OMKI SO HAPPY, HE’S A BLURRRRRRRR. 😅😅😅

“subah subah shivaay singh oberoi pakode tal raha hai?”

a sentence i never thought i’d hear. also, probably a real headline in the newspapers of this show’s universe, knowing the press and the way they act in this show. 😒😒😒

ANIKA AGREES WITH ME ABOUT THE NEWS THING 😧😧😧

anika’s about to lose it at him for using the wrong type of oil. 😆😆😆

(god, she’s so me, it hurts. i too am very specific about shit like this. 😕😕😕) 

“aap na bohutttttttt cute ho.”

not in that ugly ass shirt and white jeetendra pants from the 80′s he’s not. 🙄🙄🙄

ALSO, NO YOU!!!!!!!!!! GOD MY GIRL LOOKS SOOOOOOOOO GOOD TODAY. 😍😍😍😍

billu hates being called “cute”. he wants to be called “HOT”, does he? 😏😏😏

OMG HE DOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😯😯😯😂😂😂

lol his innocent “haan dadi????? 😇😇😇”

snort. idiot. he’s doing ONE ARM DISTANCE like we used to do in schoooooool, for assemblies. 🤣🤣🤣

wait, so they’re still in the same room at night? so, what does this “do foot” nonsense even matter??????? 😑😑😑

“DADI KO MAT BOL!!!!!!!!!!!!”  “DO FOOT, MY FOOT!”

oh billu. you’re incorrigible. 😝😝😝

also, um hello, YOUR PAKODE?!!?!?! 😯😯😯😯

incoming takaraaana in 3... 2... 1.... 

EEEEEEEEE HE PULLED HER IN CLOSER EEEEEEEEEEE 😍😍😍

ohhhhhh you twoooooo awkward babiesssss. 😌😌😌

YES, SHIVIKA SHIPPING RIKARA!!!!!!!! 😁😁😁

anika helpfully informing shivaay of gauri’s “atrangi ideas” 😊😊😊

anika’s excited squeals oh my hearttttttt what a fucking cutie!!! 💖💖💖

“ab jab hum nahi lad rahein, toh jo humari jagah khaali hai kisi ko toh bharni padegi.”

this damn family thrives on conflict and chaos. check yourselves before you wreck yourselves, idiots. 😐😐😐😐

YAS, MISSION RIKARA IS A-GO!!!!!!!! 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

what the fuck is a “shaadi ka bowl”? 🤔🤔🤔

what’s this 90′s bollywood type theme music. 😒😒😒

pfffffffft rudra. you’re soooooo lame. 🙄🙄🙄

HA! i like how she gave it back to him! “public police ko nahi bachaati. police public ko bachaati hai.” 😎😎😎

ok romance is getting tooo icky with the staring. also i haaate their music. fwding. 🙄🙄🙄

gauri approves of shivaay’s olive oil waale pakode. at least someone does. 😋😋😋

meanwhile anika here is working on om. yaaaaaas, i am loving this division of labour. MY BROTPSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! 😘😘😘

shivaay feeding gauri pakode apne haath se. LIKE HE DOES HIS BABY BOY RUDRA. i am actually fucking crying. 😭😭😭😭😭

oh boy anika omki ko faraq ka jaap pada rahi hai. 😐😐😐

OMG SHIVAAY BAAT BANA RAHE HO YA BIGAAD RAHE HO 😯😯😯

but fully loving how he’s trash talking his own brother for bulbullllllllllllll behnaaaaaaa 😚😚😚

OH MY GOD SHE’S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEEEE WHAT EVEN IS HER FAAAAAACE 😍😍😍

meanwhile anika toh is going to town on omki with reverse psychology. behen, sambhaal ke. bante bante baat ke upar apni bulldozer mat chalaiyo. 😣😣😣

OMFG HIS FACE AT “DER HO CHUKI HAI” AND “MOVE ON”. YES!!!!!!!! 🙃🙃🙃

“ab gauri ko main pasand nahi hoon???? 😟😟😟” 

THE FEAR. I AM LOVING IT. I AM LOVINGGGGG ITTTTT. 😆😆😆

“agar woh tumhare paas aaye toh mooh pher lo. pher lena!!!! achcha ab yahaan phero, sun toh lo.” 

omfg shivaaaaaaaay. lmaooooooo i love these two togetherrrrr. 🤣🤣🤣

ok kids, time to pick a team in the replies: are you #TeamAniKara or #TeamShivRi

you guys know my team already. bade bhaiyya and bulbul have my fuckinggggg heart. 😍😍😍😍

“ab gauri om se door bhaagegi.” “aur om gauri ke peeche peeche!”  “aur hum?” 

tum dono ab make out karoge. 😌😌😌

*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh* 😍😍😍😍😍

oufffffo dadiiiiiiii yaaaaaaar. 😣😣😣

LMAO “pehle toh nahi tha puttar, lekin teri harkatein dekh kar...” dadi let the boy liveeeeeee lollllllll 😆😆😆

you guys i can’t tell you how hella glad that i am that anika is just as frustrated as billu. it just warms my hearttttt that she’s as into it as he is. 😌😌😌

oh my heartttt, omkiiiii. look at his faaaace. and how he’s nervously adjusting his shirt and vest before approaching her. 😭😭😭

‘please still love me!’

oh boy, not the best voices to have in your head guiding you. honestly, why would you take advice from a couple who haven’t even been properly together for 24 hours yet!!?!?! 🙄🙄🙄

ohhhh boy omki is going to be asad (from QH) ka sequel, with the “woh actually, main...”s. 😬😬😬

HIS PANIC AT “SAB KHATAM HO GAYA HAI”!!!!!!! HER ADORABLE FAKE GUSSA! HIS DARRRA HUA FACE! I LOVE IT ALL OMG 

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh no. these fucking idiots. they underestimated omki. 😟😟😟😬😬😬

OK LITERALLY NO ONE CARES ABOUT TEJVILANA. FWDING. 

will i ever stop sighing happily over these two and their cuteeeee???? 😭😭😭😍😍😍😚😚😚

hahahahahaha shivaay dropping the stuff and fumbling picking it up . what an idiottttt. 🤣🤣🤣

oh boy why does dadi have rope?!!?!?! 😬😬😬

what a cutieeeeeeeee 😍😍😍

OMFG OMKI DHOKEBAAZ 😧😧😧

omggggg hahahahah shivaay singing “jahaan main jaata hoon wahin chali aati hai” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

lo rudra ki bhi entry. loving the casual way shivaay and he exchanged rock on 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽 gestures as greetings. 

“rudy, pata hai, shivaay rangay-haathon pakda gaya!” “bhaiyya yeh koi holi khelne ka time hai kya?” 

snortttttt, idiot. 😂😂😂😂

ohhhhhhhh boyyyyy. omkiiiiii. tu toh puraaaaara paaapi nikla. 😫😫😫

bulbul doing taubaaaa gestures at “patne - pataane ki baatein” hahaha 😆😆😆

lol anika getting mad at shivaay for being an idiotttttt. 😂😂😂

ouff againnnn tejvilana nonsense. fwding. 🙄🙄🙄

lo, omkara has taken the ramayan parallels from the initial promos a little too seriously and drawn a literal lakshman rekhaaaaaa. 😐😐😐

ladki waale kaun ladke waale kaun waala confusion.

lmao smart singh oberoi has very cleverly declared himself a ladki waala and stepped rightttt over the loc lololol 😂😂😂

DEVAR SQUAD ARE LADKI WAALE. *weeping* 😭😭😭

BEHNEIN BADE BHAIYYA KI TARAF SE. 😚😚😚

AND SHAKTIJI IS LADKI WAALE. FROM “BETI” KE SIDE. *weeps 5ever* 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

pffft  tumhaaare dad aur mom haiiii kahaaan? have you even bothered calling them for the last 2 weeks? 😒😒😒

ugh fuck off pinky. no one invited you. 😤😤😤

maaaaaaaaaan, what even is this jhanvi plot?

who dat on the bike? um... kinda looks like gauri ka woh “apun ki sister” waala bhaiyya? 😕😕😕

OMFG IT IS HIM. WHUT? 😯😯😯

HOLY SHIT WHAT EVEN IS THIS JHANVI/DANDIIII TEAM UP??? 😟😟😟

ok idek why i’m watching this nonsense. oh wait. i do, for this face: 

who the fuck told these people that south indians start every sentence with “aiyyo”????? 😒😒😒

like idk about other south indian states, but elders always admonish me if i say “aiyyo” too much - it’s a thing you say in distress and it’s believed saying it over and over kinda invites negativity into your life. 😐😐😐 

THEY’RE TAMILIANS AND THAT’S A MALAYALAM NEWSPAPER. WHAT THE FUCK EVEN OMGGGGGGGGG. 😧😧😧😟😟😟

ALSO THE TITLE OF THE NEWSPAPER IS JUST A BUNCHA RANDOM MALAYALAM LETTERS THROWN TOGETHER????? THE FUCK. 😣😣😣😣

dandiiiiiii is under the influence of dosas and thinks kaveri/peter are legit. don’t blame him, whatever said and done, those dosas did look damn good. 😌😌

also, i hate the way north indians pronounce “dosa” - it’s tho-sha/tho-sa, not dosa with a hard D. 😒😒😒 

OH THANK GOD. DANDI CAN TELL MALAYALAM AND TAMIL APART. HALLELUJAH. ALREADY LIKE HIM MORE. 😐😐😐

jhanvi is like yep, that kinda ignorant ass north indian bs sound like tej/svetlana for sure. 😒😒😒

didn’t even get what the precap was about really. some murti, some shiv-parvati sanjog, and everyone shocked at shivaay’s possesiveness re: khanna. ok???????? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

hopefully om-gauri get a little trip outta this hellhole to go get this murtiiiii? 😊😊😊

[queenofmahishmati]

Baahubali Question Meme

Brainchild of the awesome @avani008 ( I drafted this before you tagged me in your reply LOL ). So I’m putting it under readmore after the first answer cause they’re all really long…

1. Which language do you prefer to watch the movies in and why? If you’ve watched multiple versions, are there any translation choices in one version that you prefer?

Both the movies, I watched them first in Tamil. And then in Telugu. Those two are my only preferred versions cause I love hearing the original voice of the actors as I’m more used to it ( I grew up watching movies from these two film industries ). Also, very recently I came to know that though the story was written in Telugu, the script was written entirely in Tamil and then translated to Telugu ( just few parts were done the other way around ), so most of the Tamil dialogues from both the movies hits straight home with me. My two ever favourites would be, 

இக்கணம் முதல் மரணம் அணைக்கும் வரை நான் உன்னுடையவன் தேவசேனா.  I’m yours till death embraces me, Devasena ( Amarendra )

இந்த பிரபஞ்சத்தில் நீ விரும்ப வேண்டுமானாலும் வெறுக்க வேண்டுமானாலும் நான் மட்டும் தான் இருப்பேன் தேவசேனா. You have only me to love or hate in this world henceforth, Devasena ( Bhalla )   

2. Your favourite song picturization.

Tough!! Its a close call between Irul Konda Vaanil ( Mamatala Talli ) and Vandhai Ayya ( Dandalayya ). I low-key love Shivam ( title cards track ) and Manohari. I love the waterfalls alone in Dheerane ( Dhivara ). 

3. Devasena or Sivagami?

If you knew me, you wouldn’t ask me that question. Both had their best qualities and their fatal flaws. I can’t choose. But I’ll put them in this order, Sivagami And Devasena. 

4. It’s not a fandom without shipping. Share a headcanon about your OTP, or your NoTP, or that one non-canon ship that is intriguing, or all three!

OTP of all otps: Amarsena — Every time Amarendra excuses someone mocking him ( I’m imagining there would be plenty times in the one year they stayed as a couple within the castle ), I can’t help but picture Devasena giving a hard nudge to his side or challenging him and everyone present openly like she did at her baby shower ceremony to do something about it.

BONUS— a cute headcanon:

A: Why am I the only one unable to feel her move? D: HE won’t respond until you address your son properly!

( a girl can dream… ) 

5. Kuntala or Mahishmati?

Mahishmati, my url says it all!! Mahishmati endured while Kuntala burnt ( all thanks to my King, don’t hate me ).

6. The scene(s) you could watch over and over again.

That one iconic scene: When Deva walks over Amarendra’s shoulders ( I’m Kattappa in that scene ). Second best: When Sivagami power walks into the throne room with the baby in her hand and kills Martanda saying “Raja Thandhiram!!”  Third best ( and also the one I melt with ): When Bhalla talks to the crown flexing those abs and muscles, glinting like a dream in gold in that fire light… 

7. Like it or not, get in touch with your inner Bijjaladeva: think of your favourite character, and tell us one thing that annoys you about him/her.

Looks at Amarendra during Dandalayya: How the hell is he always so popular despite being the pauper?? 

8. Kattappa or Bhalladeva?

BHALLALADEVA. He did what he wanted to do or constantly found a twisted way to do it. To be honest, Kattappa should’ve take a few lessons from him cause I’m thinking Bhalla had that attitude ever since he was a kid…

9. Time to channel Amarendra instead: think of your least favourite character, and do your best to come up with one positive thing about him/her.

Dandanayakka: He is loyal to his friendship with Bhalla and thus would prove to be loyal to the throne (??)

10. Everyone’s got an unpopular/controversial opinion, no matter what the fandom. Let’s hear yours!

Bhalla who killed his own mother should’ve killed the mother of his son too just because she wasn’t Devasena ( or she might have died too but honestly no, Bhadra couldn’t have been adopted but could definitely be a surrogate son ). 

Being a vassal kingdom to Mahishmati, maybe if Devasena and her brother had remembered to turn down the marriage offer in a little more respectable way or had even mentioned that Deva was interested in someone else or something along the lines— the entire catastrophe that happened after Deva’s arrival in Mahishmati could’ve been prevented. And also, I’m sorry to say this, no matter how much of an ideal and exemplary woman Devasena is, I couldn’t help but cringe at the less than respectable way she treated Sivagami ( Bhalla & Bijju don’t matter honestly ). A woman of her wisdom and who possesses so much clarity, could’ve handled it all more tactfully rather than erupting like an impatient volcano. The one year in exile is what made her perfect. And sadly, we could see the same problem reflected in Mahendra. He may look like his father but is carbon copy of his mother.

11. Choose your favourite fandom sorting mechanism (i.e. Hogwarts houses, daemons, Game of Thrones houses) or more than one if you’re really feeling adventurous. Tell us what results you think the main Baahubali characters would have.

Hogwarts houses would be my obvious choice. Sivagami would be in Ravenclaw. Amarendra would be a Hufflepuff. Devasena is undoubtedly Gryffindor. Bhalladeva is a complex puzzle who could fit in both gryff and slyth, but would be a Slytherin because of his slyness and thirst for power that you cannot see in a gryffindor. Kattappa is Gryffindor. Bijjala and Bhadra, again Slytherin. Avantika and Mahendra are Gryffindor. 

12. Let’s pretend Rajamouli has decided to make a oneshot film about any period of time not covered by the films, whether before, after, or during the events we see–but only one. What would you want it to be about?

I don’t know if this opinion exists, but I want to see the childhood days of Amarendra and Bhalla because no child is born evil. I need to see what changed Bhalla to the way he is ( there needs to be a bigger force than his father’s temper tantrums cause he obviously knows that, to be in power he needs to be like his mum and not Bijju. He knows for his word to be law, he cannot simply throw them around. ) 

I also want to see the one year that Amarsena lived within the palace after the wedding which I’m sure most of you wish for as well. 

13. Avantika or Mahendra/Shivu(du)?

I would honestly pass them both but since I don’t have another option, I would choose Avantika. She has her head screwed on right ( well, better than Mahendra I mean ).

14. What three movies/books/TV shows would you recommend to fellow fans suffering Baahubali withdrawal?

God, this is gonna be awfully hard cause I’m not yet suffering from any withdrawal symptoms. My mind is still roaming somewhere in Mahishmati and refuses to come back.

So Movies, I would suggest you to look forward to Nene Raju Nene Mantri cause I see so many parallels between those two characters of Rana ( I may very well be talking to all the Bhalla fans in here ).  Mirchi is a roller-coaster. If you need more of Rajamouli’s magic in a historical setting, try Magadheera. For Books, you can try the Rise of Sivagami. Also The Shiva Trilogy, you will love it trust me. Or any versions of Mahabharatha, my favourite is Palace of Illusions which is the entire story from Draupadi’s perspective. An immensely satisfying read it was. I don’t have time for TV shows really but Game of Thrones anyone?? ( gosh I still got one whole season to catch up to before the recent season ) 

15. Tag any of your friends that you think might be interested!

Okay, I’m tagging only those I know are as mad as me about Baahubali or I might have discussed this movie franchise with them at some point. @forestpenguin, @adiyaathi, @myluckyerror, @sakhiya,​ @kollyreign & @puppyloveblog24​

The rest of my amazing followers are welcome to do this if you find it interesting, just tag it “baahubali question meme” and we would love to read all of your opinions. 

[apriltwentythree]

on politics:

none of us in our right minds would refer to an afro american as ‘nigger’. but afro-americans do not have the same obligation to be careful regarding that word or act sacred about it, unless they wish to. they can laugh while calling each other ‘niggah’. I feel something similar about the word ‘comrade’. it’s my inheritance, and can laugh about it if I so wish, there is no obligation to go around being reverent about it, and by extension, it can surely never sound patronizing when I say it.

i equate niggah and comrade only because both words did not start out as words referring to the ruling or protected classes, and were even used derisively by them then! but now, both words are not really tied to their historical connotations, at least not in their entireties, also not in every context. it can be cool to be a nigger(ask Dave Chapelle), it can be cool to be a comrade(ask Dulquer Salman). naturally, to pretend that it can sound patronizing any longer, is at worst lazy ignorant or at best a lazy lie….esp. when the accused is someone who mostly sits in a room staring out of the window by herself, and have no real party politics to speak of! meaning, when you are equally pissed off as your accuser, you don’t think that you owe them any explanation.

anyways, because it’s my inheritance, i value the word just as much as the average comrade does. say, if i find an election manifesto on a celebrity feed, it’s tough to get too excited, instantly! so i try to look for a connecting link— healthcare, medicine, disability. there! that I truly care about. and when i read and learn about just that, it helps me to retain some integrity regarding the comrade inheritance. guess this is more to do with people’s personalities, i don’t think this is how most people prefer to approach their politics or, feel the need to, I am just saying this is how I look at it. something of a personal nature really, nothing more to it!

what made me wish to be like eeda_Leela who is slightly more familiar with the politics of everything happening around her than eeda_Aishwarya, is the year-long hackathon that brought me up-close to society and the politics of the everyday, than ever before! everyday politics is mostly always about feeling than thinking, ask Brexit voters or Trump supporters. I’m not even referring to ideologies per se, I’m just saying, it’s mostly about influencing people, enough to make them ‘feel’ something. so, if i say I am now a comrade just like all my friends are, and wish to join the election festival alongside everyone, it’s bcoz now i am starting to ‘feel’ something; the ‘KL wave effect’ is influential clearly ha ha! BK, who has always been the poster boy of elite hipster-hood, now aspires to reach the entirety of his troll soul depth and party with the proletariat through the night. that says it all for me! Advaid(AD) says he came to Kerala at the age of 18. soon, in 2015 —was he 24 then? i was 31— I saw him shrug off all his hipster English and start to dappankoothu his way into Malayalam. If I’m remembering right,  there were quite a few civic-conscious Facebook posts by him, in all-Malayalam. i don’t know who influenced him in particular, may be he self-influenced, having stayed long enough in Kerala!

I had some time to myself these past couple of weeks, and realized that I’m naturally-inclined to be eeda_Aishwarya when it comes to Kerala politics, and that I cannot self-influence regarding the politics of the everyday, unlike eeda_Leela who easily can. and I’m eeda_Aishwarya in Boston too, I cannot naturally-invest in party politics here either. i don’t even know what is the Mueller Report! I don’t know who are the Senators from Boston after the 2018 November elections. occasionally, I try to read up on some Healthcare-Medicine-Disability, but it has been a while I did that too.

on the other hand, i always had a thing for ‘World Politics’, it has always been my political weed. i can self-influence, and read all kinds of shit on that, enlightening or otherwise! maybe it’s because it’s more humankind-drama, and less humanperson-drama. even if you are not invested in the politics of the immediate, everyday surrounding for any reason, still it encompasses all. reader you, writer me, all of everyone —together, over a lengthy period of time. and I recently discovered this academic-historian, Yuval Noah Harrari. his critics call him ‘pet historian’ of the liberal elite bcoz Obama, Bill Gates, Zuckerberg…everybody is his fanboi! apparently, he is a best selling phenomenon, and I got a copy of his latest book from the local library. from reading so far, it looks as if the book is a bunch of op-Eds put together to meet some rushed-deadline. meaning, the book is good only in parts, not as a whole! some passages seem mind numbingly rhetoric, and even the title of the book feels cliched — 21 lessons for the 21st century.  if your politics is quite evolved and up-to-date, the book may not do much for you. but it did give my half-baked politics, some nice perspective; my politics is far from evolved.

say, he talks about the tidal wave of disillusionment that has touched the liberal elite in a sad Trump world. Harrari says ‘’this is not the first time the liberal story has faced a crisis of confidence. the first era of liberalism ended with WW-I, with imperial powers cutting short the global march of progress. when Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Sarajevo was murdered, it looked as if all the great powers believed more in imperialism, but liberalism survived the Ferdinand moment. it was short lived though, as Hitler came on the scene and made fascism look cool in the 1930s40s. next when 50s70s saw Che revolutionizing minds everywhere, it seemed communism was the true solution, and that liberalism was on it last legs. but then, it was communism that collapsed first, as everyone liked the supermarkets better! so, it seemed like liberalism was the most dynamic and the most solid story through times, and it soon adopted best ideas and practices from others. say, it learnt from communism to expand the circle of empathy, and value the concept of equality alongside liberty (communist welfare programs).’’

‘’as liberalism mostly catered to the middle classes and upper there, western liberals  had a hard time applying their universal values to the non-Westerns. say, even when the Dutch finally got out of Nazi occupation, they were still adamant about colonizing Indonesia. liberalism didn’t become everyone’s favorite, many nationalist movements throughout the world felt like placing their hopes on Moscow or Beijing, rather than champions of liberty from the West! Harrari says that over time, liberalism survived it all — the Ferdinand moment, Hitler moment, Che moment— but now it cannot easily survive the Trump moment, which is far more nihilstic. bcoz all the other movements of the twentieth century offered a vision for the entire human species—global domination, revolution, liberation— Trump offers nothing global for all! he just says Nammude America. and he still mostly likes the liberal package — democracy, free markets, human rights, social responsibility — except all the fine ideas stop at the border. just like the Brexiters who still like all the liberal values, but only for natives of Nammude Britain. Like Xi Jinping who advocates Nammude China and still adores liberalism: their domestic politics is not so liberalized, but their international cooperative-politics is quite Obama-like-liberal. I was watching some Anthony Bourdain the other day, i didn’t even know that Oman is still a Sultanate, and not yet a liberal democracy. but the people seem contented, and in no rush to fuel a democratic government like the rest of the progressive world, and it felt like Nammude Oman there too’’.

all that made me think of how growing up across small-towns-Kerala in the era of Doordarshan, the middle-middle class aspiration extended only up to that of the nation’s cool and confident —be it Northies or Tamils or Bangaloreans or Goans. Hindi was my second language in school, used to write lengthy literary essays. but bcoz I never conversed in Hindi back then, haven’t retained anything from it at all! now when a colleague at work or someone at the desi grocery shop here tries to engage with me in Hindi, i speak in English back. my Tamil is relatively better than my Hindi. I still listen to both Hindi and Tamil music though, and care about following the lyrical meanings. but the aspirations of that Doordarshan watcher have changed, it’s less of, caring for validation from the Hindi speakers and the Tamil speakers surely. it seems more of, staying local and caring for validation from Nammude Boston at random— Mandarin speakers and Spanish speakers maybe or, going the other kind of local and caring for validation from Nammude Keralam at random— Vaikkom dialect speakers and Kasargod dialect speakers maybe!

[venettaoctavia]

I grew up with the Bible. I learnt about Jesus, Esther and Ruth. On the television, Barney played on Kids’ Central. Sam was my favourite character on Totally Spies. The only Singaporean original kids’ show I remember watching is R.E.M.— Rachel, Ee Ching and Mo. Even then, the English was proper: British English, or at least an imitation of it, because, of course, Singapore had once been under colonial rule, and now English is our official language. No Singlish, teachers say. No lahs, no lors, no mehs. Don’t use Singlish in your oral. Don’t write it in your compositions. It’s not ‘Can I go to the toilet?’; it’s ‘May I use the bathroom?’. Even in Catherine Lim books, Singlish is italicised, isn’t it? to throw you off, emphasising how its Singlish words aren’t proper words, only bastardisations of the language by us quirky Singaporeans, trying so hard to be Western. Are we? What does it mean if we are? Compare this: “We are not going, lah.” To this: “We are not going lah.” When you come across a comma, you pause, of course. But we don’t pause when we use ‘lah’. Singlish is a staccato language, quick and to the point. Why, then, should I pause before the ‘lah’? If you Google ‘lah’, the first result that appears is, and I have reproduced it here: “"lah" in Singlish is a discourse particle in Linguistics terms, that is, a word or a particle that does not change the semantic meaning of the sentence, but for pragmatic functions such as indicating tone. Examples of Usage: “There’s something here for everyone lah.” (“There IS something here for everyone.”)” I largely agree with this definition. It is used to emphasise something, but the word itself is not emphasised. The thing about Singlish is that every word is unstressed. It is flat, monotone. It is a bored language, but it is not boring. The reason it is italicised so much is because it’s still not seen as “proper English”, even after we’ve been speaking it for decades. Years after the British abandoned us during the war, we are still not comfortable with our identity. We are, in a way, still the colonised subject looking up to its master. Why am I not writing this essay the way I speak? Why am I censoring myself? If Singlish is a conglomeration of English, Malay, Tamil, Chinese and other assorted dialects, why can’t we treat Singlish as a language itself and normalise it? When I say gostan, must I italicise that too? Isn’t language a mutable construct? Isn’t English itself a potluck of words from different cultures? Why aren’t we proud that all of us are at least bilingual and this, combined with our multi-racial environment, influences the way we speak? Why is this cause for shame and why are we rejecting it? I feel a disconnect with my heritage. I am Singaporean Chinese, but what stories do I have to tell? What folklore do I know? How much have I lost? I only learnt about 女郎织女 when I was 17, after watching 爱情合约, a Taiwanese drama, after I re-watched 流星花园, which I’d watched with my grandmother when I was 8. What other elements of Chinese mythology can I tell you about? I don’t know; I know too little to remember. I lived with my grandparents as a child for many years, and stayed over on weekends for years after that. I understand Hokkien because of that, but when I try to speak it, I cannot form the words. Everything slips away, and I feel more detached than ever. I can say ‘makan’ without a thought but it takes me a second to remember ‘jiak peng’. But I know how to speak it. I’m just afraid to forget. My grandparents can speak English pretty well, so my brother, having never stayed with them for any period of time, cannot understand Hokkien, and neither can my cousins. At home, we speak English as well. (Singlish? I’m not sure what to label it as.) In school, my Chinese was always bad. How dare I call it my mother tongue when I hesitate to order food from the fishball noodle uncle at the kopitiam? There is currently a Speak Good English campaign and has been since 2000. Before that, there was the Speak Mandarin campaign in 1979. Funny Singapore, with all its campaigns. Even today, 3 March 2017, Cantonese or Hokkien shows are dubbed over in Mandarin. It is only recently that Singlish has been touted as our national identity, and local brands—even the army!— are using Singlish to be more relatable. I am glad about this, but I am afraid that maybe it might be too late. The pioneer generation, the ones here when Singapore was recovering from the war and had just achieved independence, are fading. Do we expect them to live forever and preserve our culture and heritage for us? Do we care? The hawker centres are being replaced, torn down or commercialised. The Sungei Road flea market will soon be gone. There’s a suggestion of having a permanent pasar malam at Marina Bay Sands, which would actually be the total opposite of what a pasar malam is. Why not preserve and sustain culture? Why only seek to memorialise it instead of learning how to progress and retain our heritage at the same time? If lobster, once seen as a poor man’s dish, can now become a delicacy, why can’t we learn to accommodate our modernisation with our collective history? Must we always separate the two? In marketing ourselves as an economically stable and progressive nation, do we have to pretend we are who left us?

Venetta Octavia, from an essay titled “National Trauma”

[mredlich21]

I’ve been tossing around the idea of doing a post that tries to put Bahubali 2‘s all India success into context.  And then both T.J Stevens and Cerusee indicated that they would be interested, so the poor Samarth-Mukherjee family has to wait another week for me to finish them, because I want to try a brief history of “regional” films.

Non-Usual Disclaimer: Hindi film is my area, I know all kinds of things about Hindi film, but I only have the tiniest knowledge of non-Hindi films from India.  So I will do my best, but forgive me if I miss things.

  Indian film did start in Bombay, everyone agrees on that.  The actual film is disagreed on, it was either Raja Harischandra in 1913 or Shree Pundalik in 1912.  But either way it was in Bombay where it started.  And then film spread very very rapidly through out the rest of India, with multiple film centres popping up for each language.

And it wasn’t just a matter of different languages.  Because a language isn’t just a language in India.  You might as well say that the only difference between Spain and Sweden is language.

Bengali films tended to be literary, complex social issues and characters and so on.  Marathi films had a kind of hearty earthy comedy.  And the Telugu films were epic historicals.  And so on and so forth.

In the silent era, there was some travel between industries, since it was a simple matter of swapping out intertitles to open up films between language groups.  But there wasn’t as much travel as you would think, audiences liked what they liked, and it wasn’t just about the language the intertitles were in.  It was about the stories being told, familiar stories from childhood, and the architecture, and the character names, and everything else.

(remember my epic Devdas posts?  remake after remake after remake?  Because each audience wanted a version in their own language.  I didn’t even talk about the Telugu version!)

Sure, there were cross-overs.  Bengali to Hindi was a common one in that era, Devdas and Parineeta.  But the cross-overs tended to increase as there was actual mass migrations of ethnicities.  So, after the Bengal famine, more and more Bengali filmmakers moved to Bombay, along with massive groups of refugees, and the Hindi industry shifted to accommodate them.  And there was an influx of Urdu poetry and the creation of the “Muslim Social” genre after Partition, when masses of artists from the Lahore industry, along with more refugees, suddenly found themselves part of the Hindi audience.

(Chaudvin Ka Chand, in Hindi and Urdu, set in Lucknow, and produced and filmed in Bombay)

But, as we all know, the south was something different entirely.  Bengali and Hindi, Urdu and Hindi, dozens of other smaller regional languages and societies had elements in common.  The audience members shifted back and forth across borders, and so did artists.  And a Hindi audience could vaguely follow a Bengali film, the architecture wasn’t that different, neither were the clothes or the religious festivals or any of the rest of it.  It wasn’t the same, I definitely don’t want to say it was the same.  But it was similar.

But the south, that was something different.  Just as Bombay attracted artists from all over the north of India, so did Chennai/Madras start attracting artists from all over the south.  And while the Tamil audience was not the same as the Telugu audience, they were similar.  Much more similar than Tamil and Bengali, say.

I’m not talking about actual film styles here.  Or not only about film styles.  Bengali social dramas with strong female characters share a lot of Venn diagram elements with Tamil social dramas with strong female characters.  But it’s the little things, the kind of pictures on the walls, the colors used in the costumes, the way of doing hair, it’s all just different if it’s not from your home region.

(Two strong 1970s heroines, but one is Tamil and one is Bengali and they look totally different.  In little bitty ways)

And you combine that with the genre differences that are there, and it is all just too different to cross-over.  If you are raised on Telugu historical epics and action films, with heroes wearing lungis and heroines who never wear Salwars, with mustaches on the men and heavy eye-liner on the women, and Bharat Natyam dancing instead of Kathak, than any other kind of film from anywhere else in India just isn’t going to feel “right”.

And so by the 1950s, Indian film had settled down into a nice segmented audience with a nice segmented map.  Tamil films and Telugu films played side by side, each taking one half of the southern regions with the occasional blurry areas that they shared.  Bengali films stayed fairly firm and steady in the East.  And there were the smaller areas, each with their own little personalities, Bhojpuri and Malayalam and all the others.  Tiny hidden gems.

And thinly smeared all over north India, like butter that can’t quite cover the toast, was Hindi.  Every other genre has this strong identity, specific to particular ethnicities, but Hindi kind of doesn’t.  There’s quite a bit of Punjabi in there, and some Marathi, and a touch of Bengali, a little Gujurati, and this that and the other thing.  But it is a rare Hindi film that makes you go “yes!  That is exactly and specifically what it was like to grow up in my hometown!”

(Chashme Baddoor was one of those rare Hindi films that actually felt like it was in a real place, and then of course it got remade as a ridiculous sex farce)

Hindi played down south too, just not as much.  But it did play at least.  If you wanted to, you could see a big release anywhere in India.  Unlike the southern films, which would rarely make it out of the southern half of the country, and even more rarely overseas.

And this was life from, say, 1950 to 1980.  Everyone had their regional language films as a main course, with Hindi as a side dish.  And in most areas in the south, you had your local films as a dessert on top of the Tamil and/or Telugu main course.  Languages like Malayalam had their own industry, but they weren’t bringing out films every single week, if you wanted to go to the movies each Friday, you would primarily be watching Tamil/Telugu and the release in your own language would be a special occasion.  And then there would be Hindi, if there was nothing else, or if there was something really remarkable, you might as well watch it.

And then in the 1980s, things started to shift.  Not artistically at first, but technically.  VHS came in.  Suddenly if you had grown up in Madras and were now living in Delhi for work, you could just rent a movie from home instead of suffering in some Hindi theater.  And if you were living in New York, you no longer had to suffer through some Hollywood film, you could rent a Hindi film from back home too.

(Aw, I’m all sentimental for VHS now!)

Hindi film went from being spread very very thinly all over India to being spread even more thinly all over the world.  The flavor kind of got sucked out of it, you know?  It became truly “Indian film” with no real specific identity.  And I say that as someone who loves Hindi film!  But if I watch it, I might pick up a few words of Hindi and a basic idea of the Ramayana and see Marine Drive in Bombay about a million times.  But I will never really get an Idea of what it is like to live in a village in India, or on the streets of a city, or the political history of the country, or the artistic traditions, or any of the rest of it.

There was a lot of other stuff going on in the 80s too of course.  Amitabh had kind of taken over the industry, with his action films, and the women and children were being driven out of theaters, there was a general artistic decline.  And, this is my personal theory, but I think this artistic decline was self-perpetuating because great art attracts great artists.  If I am a filmmaker in, say, Kerala.  And I am watching amazing films coming out of Bombay in the 1970s, the heyday of Salim-Javed and Yash Chopra and all those other brilliant people.  Then I will think “boy, I want to go to Bombay and work with these people!”.  But if I am that same filmmaker in Kerala in the late 80s and I am watching the current Hindi films, one repetitive chauvinistic action film after another, I am going to want to stay where I am and work with all the other interesting people who are staying in Kerala as well.

(I really need to watch Aalkkoottathil Thaniye again.  Also, this kind of deep character drama is what Kerala was making while Hindi films were cranking out Amitabh movie after Amitabh movie)

And so, in the 1980s, for the first time those regional films started to chip away at the traditionally solid Hindi audience.  Tamil and Telugu hits started making waves in Bombay.  And being remade in Bombay.  Boney Kapoor, that’s how he made his money to start with, going down to Chennai and funding some southern stuff, and then taking those same scripts and remaking them in Bombay for the Bombay audience.  Taking some southern stars along as well.  Sridevi, of course.  Also Mithun Chakraborty.  Kamal Haasan and K. Balachander, on the slightly more artistic side, also made their way north in this era.  And the Hindi industry started running scared.

Look at the old Agneepath, for example.  It was supposed to be a major Amitabh hit.  But not only was Mithunda brought in as a second hero, his character was aggressively southern, a desperate attempt to grasp at the audience that Hindi films could feel slipping away.

  But there was nothing to worry about, really.  It was just a natural shift of the industry.  Hindi films were in an artistic funk, and were confused by the new reality that forced them to fight a bit harder to keep their audience.

And then it all got sorted out in the 1990s.  Hindi films firmed up their domination globally, and started to find their new home in India in the slightly higher priced theaters, making going to the theater an experience again, something that no VHS tape could compete with.  And regional films firmed up their audience as well.  And found their own global presence, I’m sure we have all heard stories of how big Rajnikanth is in Japan.  And obviously Tamil films rule Malaysia with no competition able to break through, and I am sure there are various other older pockets around the world I don’t know about.

This is also the era when the 3 biggest artistic breakthroughs from the south came up to Bombay.  Which kind of proved that the boundaries were firm, I mean, we don’t talk about how Yash Chopra was a Punjabi filmmaker in the same way that we talk about Mani Ratnam as a Tamil director.  Because he went back home, you know?  He made Roja, it was dubbed in Hindi and released all over the country and became a massive hit.  The first film (so far as I know) to do that.  And then Ratnam went back home to Madras and kept working there.  Heck, his production company is called “Madras Talkies”!  And Ram Gopal Verma did the same thing, came up north to make Rangeela, massive hit, and Satya, massive hit, and then kept shuttling back and forth between Hindi and Telugu films, never really landing on one more than the other.  And of course AR Rahman has made his commitments very clear, 3 Tamil films to every one Hindi or English.  Mostly, we know the boundaries are firm because these are called “crossover artists” and their films are “crossover films”.  Which means there must have been a border for them to cross over.

(If you want to know more about Ratnam and Rahman, you can check out my post on them)

And this brings us to the 2000s!  When everything changed again, some more.  Firstly, there was that global audience.  It had just started to spread in the 80s/early 90s.  But by 2000, it was firmly in place.  Hindi films played in mainstream theaters all over the world.  Non-Hindi films were slowly following their lead.  They both started the same way, small community groups renting out church basements and playing reels they’d shipped over through some funky little distributor.  And then slowly getting big enough to rent a theater in a multiplex and sell tickets, and get the reel from a real grown-up distributor that had started investing in Indian film.  And finally getting so big that regular American theaters and distributors were dealing directly with Indian producers.  Only, Hindi films started out like that in the early 90s, and non-Hindi films started out like that about 5-10 years later.  They have been running to catch up ever since and just in the past few years, they finally have. (if you want to know more about the global audience, you can check out my thesis.  And if you want to know more about Hindi film history in general, check out my book)

Let me back up for a second to that 50s-80s era when every language group had its own set audience and Hindi film kind of filled in the gaps.  One huge thing to remember about this era is that there were no “all India hits” of the way we have them now.  Because there were no all India releases.  It was a simple matter of the number of prints made up.  Back then, dozens of prints were a big deal.  Now we are talking about thousands upon thousands of prints.  Bahubali 2 supposedly took up 80% of all screens in India.  I don’t believe that for a second, by the way, but just the fact that the producers feel comfortable making that kind of a lie tells us how big the releases are now.

So when I say “Hindi film filled in the gaps”, what that meant was that some Hindi print that had started out in Bombay and months later slowly made it’s way to Madras would be used to fill in an empty screen in a theater that was mostly playing first run Tamil stuff.  Hindi film didn’t release all at once everywhere it the country and unite the entire audience with one story.  No, it was more that some poor tired print would make it’s way very very slowly over the course of several years from Bombay to Madras to Calcutta to Hyderbad to Delhi, with a little jaunt over to New Jersey, and then maybe Egypt or Jamaica, and finally take its poor sad self over around a tour of the hinterlands of India, with whole reels missing and the sound cutting out and half the audience having already seen it somewhere else but still ready to watch it again.  This was an “all India hit”.  A movie that could play and replay for decades anywhere in the country.  Not a film that released simultaneously in every theater everywhere.  If you are talking about a film like that, arguably the non-Hindi films were more likely to do total coverage of an area.  Just because they weren’t spread so thin.  You could take those same 30 prints and manage to fill every major theater in the region, and every person in the region could watch the same thing opening day.  Or at least opening month.  Unlike Hindi, where those 30 prints would be split between Bombay and Delhi and Calcutta and Chandigarh and a handful of other cities.  And only one or two theaters in those cities.

Now, coming back to the late 90s/early 2000s.  Hindi film all of a sudden had soooooooooooo much money (blah blah, liberalization and industrialization and some other stuff you can read about in my nepotism post).  And it started shifting from the idea of an “all India hit” being a film that could play and replay all over the country as it slowly traveled, to the idea of a hit that released all over India simultaneously and did equally well everywhere.  And then, shortly after, a film that released all over the world and did equally well everywhere.

(Hum Aapke Hain Koun, first film to really crack the NRI market.  By giving them a generalized happy family version of India)

And it worked, for a while.  Because Hindi film had a lot of experience in appealing to everybody.  Like vanilla ice cream.  It’s not necessarily anyone’s favorite, but no one really hates it, you know?

But now Hindi film is beginning to hit another one of those draggy periods of artistic funk.  And it’s lost track of it’s audience again.  India as a whole is getting terribly divided.  It’s the multiplex revolution, theaters that used to be a place where everyone watched together, maybe some in upper and some in lower stalls, but at least all in the same place, are now getting completely segregated.  And Hindi film seems only able to appeal to the multiplex audience.  It’s easier that way.  Once you have gone to an English medium school, and then an international college, and now work for a multi-national corporation, all the rough edges are sort of scraped off and everyone is the same whether you grew up in Bombay or Hyderabad or New York.  And you can all enjoy some movie with an NRI hero living in London, and a heroine who is a fashion designer, and dialogue that is half English and half very high class Hindi.

But no one else can enjoy those movies.  It’s not just that the lower classes in India can’t relate to the characters, the second generation in America can’t either.  Or the negative generation in America.  “Negative” meaning the uncles and aunties and mothers and fathers who are brought over on Visas.  It’s just the middle generation that gets some enjoyment out of the films.  They’ve gone too far, gotten too neutral until they are less vanilla ice cream and more, I don’t know, skim milk.  You still don’t hate it, but you don’t exactly enjoy it.

And thus, the rise of the non-Hindi films!  Because they still have some flavor to them.  And suddenly instead of Hindi films filling in the gaps in other regions, the other regions are filling in the gaps in the traditionally Hindi territories.  Which, now, means London and New York and Sydney along with Bombay and Delhi.

One thing to remember, Bahubali excepted, is that the non-Hindi films still aren’t really breaking out of their regions.  It’s just that the borders of their regions have expanded.  Punjabi immigrants ended up in Canada and Australia, their films play really well there.  Southern immigrants landed in America, Telugu and Tamil films do well here.  Malayalam films do well in Dubai.  But Punjabi doesn’t play in America, Telugu doesn’t play in Canada, and so on.  The Global hit is as much an illusion as the All India hit.

(You see how this is a Punjabi territory for film?)

My interpretation of the current trends, again Bahubali excepted, is that things are bubbling back down to a healthy level.  The future of Hindi films isn’t in Sultan and Bajrangi Bhaijaan, but in Badrinath Ki Dulhania and Dum Laga Ke Haisha.  Hindi films can use their slightly higher degree of gloss and budget and so on to make movies that most people can enjoy.  But they can keep their aim smaller, lower budgets and fewer screens, not trying to please everybody and ending up pleasing nobody.  Go back to being the films that play very very well in some places, and can be more or less enjoyed everywhere, in between people watching their “real” movies.  Whether they are watching their “real” movies in Toronto or Chicago or London or Kochi.

Hindi Film 101 One-Off: Bahubali 2 and the Future and the Past of All India Hits I've been tossing around the idea of doing a post that tries to put Bahubali 2…

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Speak English Fluently – How To Answer The Phone

Speak English fluently, how to answer the phone one of the biggest challenges when it comes to, speaking English, fluently especially for people who are getting, you’re just learning the English language I remember one of the things that, scare the heck out of me, what when I have to, pick up the phone and talk to someone, it’s bad enough that English is not your first language especially when you are in school or you are in Abyss, resetting you dealing with people who don’t have that face-to-face interaction he means that you don’t have your body language you don’t have your face, expression in the plate so now all you have it’s your boys, dan it makes you very very good, so today I’m going to give you five tips, still help you when you’re answering the phone, how do you speak with clarity, conviction, power, so tip number one that one of the things that you want to do is you want to smile when, You are on the phone sometimes we don’t, realized it, but we can get to 10, too serious the what I like to do is actually have a mirror right next to me, when I pick up the phone I’m talking to somebody, you always remind me to smile if I look at my face expression and I’m not smiling chances on my tonality, he’s too serious, the only kind of bean icing, he finally write in, just give me mine mine, tip number to always have an introduction that you, it depends on what you do and depends on where you are if you are running your business or you just, student either way doesn’t, when you were speaking on the phone you want to have a greeting that you kind of memorizing, Practice so you might say something like this as simple as, hi this is, unique soul in my case, i just did, kind of casual informal, hi this is, your first name, hi this is Dan, very simple or if you’re in customer service and customer support, you in business and you might use your phone in, so your first name including the last name and then you might hang with a porch, what can I do for you, that, also works another thing that you could do with cheese, usually how I answer my phone, is actually using my first name last name and then, so what song, something like this, dental speaking, in right there, they know, you’re talking to the right person now I’m not talking about your best friend calling to say hey what’s up brother, write what’s up sister that’s not what I’m talking about I’m talking about in soda setting that you are required, How to speak clearly.

And professional that’s why I wanted to tell Donald speaking, proper, greeting, practice it multiple times, tip number 3, how you say is more important than what you say, tonality it’s very very key, when you’re talkin on, the phone your native language if English is your second language, throat language, which your native language might have different tonality, you need to learn how to communicate have there, proper Rhythm let me give me simple simple example, just what we did right there, let’s say what can I do for you, this one line I’m going to do it three different ways comment below and you tell me, what message, and my communicate, play what am I say what you motion, right am I using, the first one, what can I do for you, what can I do, What can I do, you hear the difference, it’s the same line, but how you say is very very important to when you’re talking on the phone sometimes you want to pay very close at 10, sometimes you want to not say certain words and certain phrases using the monotone, write your language that you always use if you speak Korean, speak Japanese you speak Indonesian it doesn’t matter you can see people who speaks with an accent which I do I still speak with an accent, but that’s okay, the important thing is people understand, you talkin about, tip number for, slow down, speed kills, i know when you get nervous what do we do you speak faster instead of slowing it down almost sucked, consciously you don’t want people to hear what you’re saying because he embarrassed that all maybe our son stupid Maybe, you don’t understand so instead of slowing down and be more clear you do the opposite now you’re speeding up, So to make sure they don’t hear you, don’t do that when you’re practicing you want to speak fluently, slow down you notice when I am doing videos if you watched, my Auto videos, i slow down, especially on the phone I listen, questions, and I slowed down, and that’s how you speak with, confidence, and conviction, and Clarity don’t just, speed up until you can over the old one, slow down, take a deep breath, it is okay and if the other side they don’t understand you can repeat yourself, interstate again in this certain words and I still disappointed words, that I did I, pronounce and may not be 100%., i would slow down, repeat it again, do it again, presently, tippmann A5, if there are words that you are struggling with, right desk you’re struggling with maybe a certain words they’re leaving longer in English English language, Right, an English language, slow it down practice at multiple, so you could take, a word that you’re struggling with, i just say it again and again and again you can even go to Google UK, timing Google translate inches, click the voice and you can hear all of this is how it would, pronounce the word and you said again and again and again, i used to do that, pockets of hundreds of, because you want to get rid of the fear, instead of not using the word at all that’s the word that I’m saying it wrong no use the word practice and then use it, an Oscar Wilde get the confidence in full now you have a new vocabulary, read that you could use, in the day-to-day conversation in Tamil speaking English on average we use about three to five thousand words, All of us.

Again and again and again so by adding more words to your day-to-day use kind of your treasure box it expands your car, contact I believe when you’re learning English is not just learning a language but you’re learning the culture, i’ve been very fortunate I immigrated to North America when I was, 14 years old and my first language was actually Chinese Cantonese, i also speak Mandarin cuz my mom is, taiwan, so like I’m a mix, between Hong Kong, taiwan, kennedy’s is my first language, my second language is mange, and my throat language, which is English and I’m glad I learned English language, good now by doing business internationally but just doing business in North America by understanding a new language, i also pick up a lot of new philosophies learning about their culture how business is done in the Western World so they, Then I have the best part of both world, i understand a culture from the East, also combine the management, thinking styles, the West, and this is how I, business and that’s how I run my life, because I learn a language and I’m not able to, to expand my wisdom, spend, my knowledge base is that makes sense so those are, the five tips now if you want to learn more about communication it, what I consider, a world-class probably the best class, in the world, a virtual program, on communication, on how to talk to people on, the phone how do you overcome, the fears, and what you need to say it how do you need to say it in order to speak and communicate your ideas, on the phone, not just giving you the skillset and how to turn your skill-set into an income, If you want to learn more about it, click link below, and check on my free trial.

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