#made in india tv

[loverofallthingssmart]

doom at ur service on netflix???? no one look at me i’m about to be INSUFFERABLE!!!!

[bell-of-indecision]

there's a superstition here in Brazil where people place a broom behind the front door to avoid or get rid of unwanted guests

add patriotism and mommy issues to this, and you have the entire plot of Porus

[pa-pa-plasma]

just watched Across the Spiderverse. literally cant stop thinking about Pavitr

[indigokashmir]

Original Shows and Movies from India

Original Movies and Shows from India that are Beautifully Made, Acted, Directed, with Excellent Production Design.

Here are some highly enjoyable and original Indian productions. They are all so captivating that it's difficult to pick the best among them. So, in no particular order of preference, here are our recommendations for this edition of IndigoKashmir from India:

Sir (2018): An optimistic and determined young woman from a remote village embarks on her new job as a live-in maid for the cynical son of a wealthy family. As time passes, they fall in love, but their relationship becomes forbidden. This film is one of the most beautifully written, acted, and filmed movies we've seen in a while. If you enjoyed 'The Lunchbox,' then 'Sir' is a must-watch. While it tells a simple story, it deeply moved us. 'Sir' is a thought-provoking film and has firmly secured a place among our favourite films. We cannot recommend it enough.

Tumhari Sulu (2017): Sulu is an ambitious housewife with a loving husband and a happy family. Her life takes an unexpected turn when she accidentally lands a job as a radio jockey, and her show becomes an instant hit. This film presents a cute and funny story about a Mumbai housewife with a "can-do" attitude. It's incredibly witty and charming, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. At the heart of its story, the film carries a valuable message. If you're seeking something lighthearted, positive, and fun, be sure to check it out.

Delhi Belly (2011): Three struggling roommates unwittingly become potential targets of a ruthless gangster. This film is one of the funniest we've seen in quite some time! While it can get a bit gross at times, in this comedy, NOTHING IS OFF LIMITS (as the title suggests). It's a very well-written, brilliantly acted, and expertly directed cinematic gem. We wholeheartedly recommend it; it had us in stitches.

Rocket Boys (2022): This is the extraordinary story of two remarkable men, Homi Bhabha and Vikram Ambalal Sarabhai, who not only made history but also shaped India's future. It's a phenomenal tale of exceptional individuals, captured with exquisite filming, outstanding acting, and masterful direction. We were so captivated by it that we binged the entire series on a rainy weekend. This show is not only thought-provoking, intelligent, and inspirational, but it also beautifully portrays real-life events.

If you enjoyed series like 'Manhattan,' then 'Rocket Boys' is a must-watch for you. The two lead actors, Jim Sarbh and Ishwak Singh, deliver brilliant performances. What's truly commendable is how the show remains focused on the scientists and avoids getting entangled in politics, allowing the story to shine through without distractions. (Season 2 arrived earlier this year and it was just as good as the first one).

If anyone knows who was responsible for the exceptional set and production design, please share! It added to the show's beauty. 'Rocket Boys' is a beautifully shot series that's truly worth your time.

Qarib Qarib Single (2017): Two contrasting personalities, Yogi and Jaya, connect through a dating app and embark on a journey to revisit their past, rediscovering themselves along the way. This film is a delightful, sweet, feel-good, and charming experience. It weaves a beautiful, heartwarming, and lovely story, all set against the backdrop of a road trip across India. We highly recommend it if you're looking for something easygoing, joyful—a film that will surely bring a smile to your face.

Let's also take a moment to remember Irrfan Khan; he was an extraordinary talent who left a lasting legacy.

Panchayat (2020): It is a comedy-drama that follows the journey of Abhishek, an engineering graduate who, due to a lack of better job options, takes on the role of secretary at a Panchayat office in a remote village in Uttar Pradesh. It's a positive, imaginative, funny, heartwarming, original, and endearing series. We absolutely loved every aspect of it and highly recommend it. (Season 2 was just as good and there will be a season 3).

This show carries a meaningful message at its core and remains refreshingly original. The cinematography and soundtrack are also phenomenal. A word of warning: it might inspire you to consider a simpler life in a village. The creators of this series display comedy genius, and in our humble opinion, comedy is one of the most challenging genres. It's easy to make people feel miserable, but it's much harder to make them smile. The simplicity of the village depicted in the show took IndigoKashmir back to the carefree days of childhood. Those were undoubtedly the golden years.

Andhadhun (2018): "Andhadhun" unfolds a series of mysterious events that alter the life of a blind pianist, forcing him to report a crime he never actually witnessed. This film completely blew us away. It's a black comedy, so be warned: if you're expecting slapstick or the usual style of comedy, it may not be for you. Instead, this movie seamlessly weaves a story within a drama, within a thriller, within a horror. It's an absolute masterpiece, and we cannot recommend it enough.

We'll be back with more original selections from India. We hope you enjoy these recommendations, and if you watch them, please let us know what you think!

[devildeals1]

Solar Fire Light With Flame Effect | Best Solar Light for Garden and Outdoors | Devil Deals

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Ladies, if you are being penetrated by him, he must know himself as a God. Even if your lover (no matter the gender) does not say those words or refer to themselves as such, you will be able to sense it in their daily actions. When I speak about masculine energy, that God energy, I'm not speaking about the performance like how a person's postures themselves or their overall banter. When I speak about masculine energy, I am speaking about tactile external structures like what are your lover's main focuses in life? How does your lover treat their body? Is your lover on social media all the time? What is their attention focused on? How does your lover manage resources including their money and "free time" like are they only playing video games, watching TV or sitting around in other ways when not working? I think of someone like Nipsey Hussle, who practiced semen retention, an archetype of human power who didn’t just carry masculine bravado, but organized and directed energy into a practice that procured success, those masters of our time who lived in more elevated ways. Other masculine archetypes I connect to are David Goggins, Joe Dispenza, Bruce Lee, Sun Ra, and many female and male athletes like Angel Reese and Deion Sanders. Too many woman have dead men/masculine energy hanging around their root, which means that they have very weak masculine energy entering their bodies and lives. Weak masculine energy makes you broke and tired because it makes no space for your actual feminine energy to shine and thrive. Weak masculine energy negatively affects your physical structure and taxes you financially and emotionally, like the lack of confidence or willpower you will have to move through discomfort or hard times. You must find ways to exalt the masculine energy within you if you want to excel in the this 3D energy. It is masculine energy that helps you to not only say the thing, but the become the thing. It is this energy that makes you completely comfortable with being the villian in another person’s story and not need to please everyone. This was one of my biggest coming-into-maturity lessons of all time. Goddess energy is lovely, the subtle and internal are deeply essential, but they are only truthful when God energy has been integrated. How can you raise the God in you? This is one major reason that I have been weightlifting nearly every week over the last 20 years. Even when I travel, I also grace the local gym as part of my traveling adventure. It’s the God in me that allowed me to confidently workout at Lee Haney’s gym on Ponce de Leon in Atlanta back in the day in the part of the weightlifting area where mostly big burly muscular men went as they stared at my ass while I squatted. It was a little icky and annoying at times but it was that God in me that mandated me to not tiptoe around or shrink like a little girl and only leave this area of the gym when I was done with what I came to do. Getting stronger not only helped my mental health and made me more confident, it is helped to dissolve a lot of the recurring low-grade depressive energy that was often part of my life. Strengthening my belly, my solar plexus, my sense of self, has been my discipline, one way I exalt the God, H.I.M., the masculine, within me. I never consciously realized that I tend to go into a gym feeling like a God until this morning--like "I can do this; I'm ready,” especially mustering this energy up on days when I don't really want to go, when going to the gym feels hard. Ultimately you can only attract God when you know yourself as a God, not intellectually because you read the Bible (many people who only read the Bible all the time stay broke and broken), but the God living in your own body and treat yourself accordingly. You can’t receive what you haven’t given to yourself. It's simple math. 1+1=2. -India Ame'ye, Author

[sofiareidings]

Falling For You

Summary: Spencer is completely oblivious to how madly in love you are. That's it. Warnings: fluff and swearing.

A/N: I feel like this idea has been done before, so if I subconsciously copied a fic, let me know!! Also, I didn't mean to do it, but this story is technically spencerxgn!reader so. Also, i'm back!! Another story is coming out at 9pm EST, so be ready!!!

Word Count: 0.9k

Song Suggestions: Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

You two clicked immediately. It was strange, you were both so opposite. I guess that's what made it work. What he lacked you made up for and reversed. Not many other people knew much about your personal life except for him. Your favourite thing about him was his words. Everytime he rambled about the most random times you could listen forever.

Whenever he looked at you, you melted. When he smiled your face burned from blushing. And whenever he talked you just wanted to kiss him. But you had no clue if he felt the same. For a genius he was quite oblivious to your flirting and comments. If he liked you he definitely had a good way of hiding it.

There was only one issue.

***

The movie was about halfway through and you made sure to turn the couch into a bed, Spencer had come over to watch it with you. If someone asked you tomorrow morning what the movie was about you wouldn't be able to say, he'd been talking the whole time.

"...That actually isn't correct," He started, moving his hands around for emphasis. "In the wild, there are two formally recognised lion subspecies. The African lion is found in Africa, south of the Sahara desert. The Asiatic lion exists in one small population around Gir Forest National Park in western India. Wild lions in the west and central Africa are more closely related to these Asiatic lions in India than to those found in southern and east Africa. So realistically the characters would be..."

Listening to him talk was like heaven, but at the same time it was hell. He just looked so huggable.

No, kissable. The butterflies in your stomach made you giggle, he paused and frowned. Looking like a lost puppy.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Stumbling over the words as he spoke, you stopped laughing and grabbed his hands while smiling.

"No, no you didn't. It was just…cute." You muttered.

"Thank you?" A confused look on his face when he responded. Your heart shattered a little, that was obvious wasn't it? Did his feelings not reciprocate? "Oh! Also, manes on male lions tell a story. Male lions grow impressive manes the older they get. These manes grow up to 16 cm long and are a sign of dominance. The older they get, the darker their manes go. As well as attracting females, their manes may also protect…"

His words trailed off again and he stared at you. "You keep being weird. You're all red. Did I say something wrong? I know that sometimes I speak for too long and I go on and on, which annoys people-" He sighed, "And I'm doing it now. I'm sorry."

"No, please. I love when you talk. It's calming." Grinning, you continued, "So what about protection?"

"Oh, um…manes can also protect their neck and head from injuries during a fight." He slowed down his speaking, like he was a little self-conscious about his words now. When he stopped talking everything was silent, except for the sound of the movie quietly playing on the TV in front of you.

"Spence? What's wrong?" Tilting your head and looking at him, he was staring at the TV but he didn't seem to be watching it. Just thinking, his eyebrows furrowed like they normally did while he was deep in thought. "What are you thinking about?"

"Have you been flirting with me?" He blurted out, looking back up and at you. You almost jumped, not expecting that question.

"What?" Still in shock it took you a minute to respond. Letting the silence fill the air again, he didn't speak. He just stared, waiting for an answer. "I-What would you think if I was?"

"I would've wished I'd noticed sooner." He sighed, making that puppy-dog face you loved. Neither of you really knew what to do and sat there for what you would believe could've been hours.

"Fuck it." You breathed out and as if he knew what you were thinking as well he leaned in at the same time as you, kissing you softly. After a couple seconds you felt his hands wrap around your face, holding it as he kissed more.

Your hands didn't know where to go, after a couple more seconds they finally found their place, one around the back of his neck and the other tucked around his waist. Pulling you closer to him.

A couple seconds later you both moved away from each other, only long enough to catch your breaths and muttering random words. Before you knew it the both of you were back to kissing, to make up for how long you guys spent not kissing.

The longer it went the closer to each other you got, his one hand started to slide down your neck and then your waist when suddenly your hand hit a button and the movie that was still playing turned up to full volume.

Both scrambling for the remote he managed to shut the TV off, surrounding you both in the darkness of the night.

The two of you continued to kiss every once in a while but it didn't take long for the darkness to make you both sleepy and you ended up just cuddling. You fell asleep with your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He had one hand holding you close to him, as if someone was coming to steal you away. The other hand tracing up and down your back until he too, drifted off to sleep.

[hxltic]

CHIROPRACTOR BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

• Best friend/Tutor

• Warnings: grinding, pussy eatin!!, female reader (please don’t trust anything scientific I write, this is barely researched and I am not licensed).

• Summary: Bokuto wasn’t physically feeling well, but due to his good nature, pushed it aside. Although you were to help him with studies, you were far from blind. Luckily your major was almost perfect for the moment. He let you test your skills on him, so your hands roamed his body. Maybe it came off more sexual than intended…

“Ughhh…” Bokuto groans.

A creak sounds from far behind you, alluding at the door opening. The sound of the fan gyrating in the background of the apartment slowly dissipates with the air, you assume, because stepping out right after his hot shower then being hit with the cold is the least pleasant thing in the world to him.

You take a sip of the lemonade that resides on the coffee table in front of you. The giant living room TV played whatever sitcom was aired ever since Bo kindly got you as comfy as possible for when he got back, but with your head buried in a book and a gel pen in your hand, it was of no use to you. Finally dressed, he returned.

However, he returned with his right hand placed on his left collarbone, rotating the left shoulder accordingly.

“Are you alright?” You ask. You didn’t look up. Thank god for your intensified range of peripheral vision from reading, seeing the man beside you with naturally fallen hair and water droplets still journeying through curves of his body in full attention would absolutely break you.

Yes, he was your best friend—but you were still a woman with eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Must’ve just overdid it at practice,” he casually replies. You recognized the tone. Despite his loud tendencies, he was being quiet with you because of the item in your criss-crossed lap. The word “just” also apprised you not to worry.

He leans back on the couch with his full attention gravitating towards you.

“Alright Professor, what’s first?” Professor.

Bokuto was the most careless person you knew. He was also the most careful person you knew. Yes he was clumsy, yes he lost things easily, and maybe doesn’t understand others—but he tries. Despite many beliefs, he was extremely attentive on and off the court; his ability to read the room peaks anyone you’ve ever held conversation with. Most of the time he just willfully ignores it. He cared tremendously for anything that was close to him, hence the low volume of the television and the torrential downpour outside to compliment his high focus to your efforts in helping.

He set the room right for you, cleaning up, and being on his best behavior. You doubt he would’ve done such a thing for Kuroo (because he knows of your high expectations for him and he wishes to please you), so you admire the ability to plan his day fit. And the special treatment.

You flipped the book to your right, letting him survey the page without having to crook his head.

“Geographical Impact on Culture Practices and Language,” he reads the subtitle. He then looks at you for confirmation.

“We’re starting with Greece. Then we’ll move to India, then China,” you declare.

“Alright, we’re moving east.” He nods.

You smile and praise, “A great start.”

You’ve come to find the way he learns best is when he knows he’s doing something correctly, and also when he gets something wrong. However with the latter, he has to wield some determination, otherwise he’ll just lose faith in himself. Luckily that has yet to happen.

———

Some time into the practice you recognize the progress that he’s made. With each tutoring he has almost doubled the amount of pages the two of you have gone through, gradually picking up more and more information to build off of. His vocabulary has undeniably grown as well.

“China—as a sphere of influence,” he briskly catches himself: “kept good look on the Mongols because they knew of their ravaging proclivities, while also having almost complete isolation from the rest of the world. The ocean, steppes, deserts, and plateaus were a sense of protection, starting with the Tibetian.” He recites. His notes were short but sweet, he clearly writes down what he doesn’t think he’ll remember. Other than that, he can take a swift look at the topic and depend on memory for the rest.

“Bingo! that sounded great Ko.” You take your glasses off and blink a little, cleaning them off with a handkerchief you keep around. They resume their spot on your nose.

At some point earlier you scooted a little closer, shoulder to shoulder, so you could hold the book and review his notes at the same time. The soap he used you could probably guess the scent of. Once you lifted off him for your lens cleaning, Bokuto runs a hand through his hair and exhales happily, content with himself. He hisses though, quickly contorting his expression to one of pain.

“Shit,” he curses. He attempts to soothe himself by rubbing slow circles on your previous spot. He said it wasn’t anything (even though you doubted his statement from the beginning), yet you leaned on him anyway. You hadn’t meant to hurt him.

“Crap- sorry, was I on it?” You already knew the answer, but it didn’t seem like it was hurting him. Maybe the pressure didn’t matter in the moment, but when your weight came off, the pain returned with what it yielded.

“I didn’t think you were. You’re okay, I’ll put something on it.” He reassures.

“How does it hurt?” He mentally processes your interrogation before answering, probably thinking if Biofreeze would work.

“…It feels tight. Like something is tugging on it and won’t let go.”

“Does it hurt when you tilt your head like this?” You make the movement. He then mimics your action and shakes his head no. “Try the other side.”

He holds a face of slight confusion while attending to your order. He rapidly forms the previous countenance, an obvious sign of discomfort.

“It looks like an overworked muscle, so you were right. But you still need to tend to it.”

Your advice runs through his ear but out the other. You notice his absence of mind and slightly press on the sore shoulder blade spot in front of you to remind him, then it sticks to his brain what he needs to do. Hell, he was an athlete. He’s been told at least a thousand times.

“Can you stretch it out for me?” He asks innocently. Why not?

“Sure,” you agree. “Stand up.”

Following your orders has become his second nature. He knows you wouldn’t sabotage him in any way, so there’s no reason to defy them. You stand behind him, then walk to the open space of the apartment while instructing him to lay down on his stomach. Watching him obediently get to his knees and his muscles involuntarily flex in the short-sleeve shirt he wears does something to you (you’ll never say what). He does a single effortless push-up down to the floor. He lays silently, with his cheek resting in folded arms.

“It’s kinda cold down here.”

“Whatever,” you giggle, and follow him down. Fuck, it is kinda cold. Anyway, you go to check to see how his body is aligned. “I’m gonna lift your shirt up, ‘kay? Just sit still.”

He hums in acknowledgement and you’re pretty sure his eyes close. Your fingertips find the end of the thin cotton that does great things for his sharp figure, and lift only the back part. He slightly raises his body from his core, allowing you to pull just a little harder and get past his waist, leading to finally slipping it up to his under-arms. He aggravatingly groans at the temperature below him. You try your best to remember the context of said groan, while also ignoring the thought of his carved chest pressing on the hardwood.

The small things he does that prove his pure strength get your mind roaming. Being able to do push-ups with quickness, having utter control over his core, lifting heavy things with ease—you need to get a hold of yourself.

You run your hands along the freshly-washed, soft, skin of his back. It was an awkward angle being on his side, so you hesitantly swing your leg over, and reside right before his spine ends. Please, please don’t come off the wrong way. He lets out a heavy breath.

“Lay your hands outwards naturally.” He shifts. His left shoulder blade was slightly higher than the right, showing clear tension.

“You’re right handed, correct?” You inquire.

“Correct.” It comes out low and throaty, his face pressed to the floor. He was quiet every time you were around. He knew you appreciated few words—especially in a moment dedicated to studies and reading—so he’d trade out his loud self for your comfort, even if you didn’t mind the usual Bokuto that drew you to him the first time you met. He almost sounded tired.

You place your hands in the space between the scapula and press slightly. “Does it hurt there?”

“No ma’am.”

“So it’s only the left then. I’m going to run my hands along the bone while also pressuring the muscle. It’ll hurt a little, so just tell me when to stop.” Bokuto giggles a little, just airy enough to be able to hear. You don’t even acknowledge it because you don’t wish to be lead to the same sexual depravity his mind is situated in. Not like yours is any better.

You roll your hands through the muscle, upwards towards his deltoid, working it with a technique you were taught. This hopefully loosens it up the slightest bit if you were doing it right. You also tell him he could resume his previous position since you could sense how uncomfortable he was.

“Based on what I’ve gathered: not only do you constantly hit with your right hand, it’s your dominant arm so almost everything everyday is done on it. With your left, however, it’s not the main focus of what you do.” Your fingertips dig into his skin.

“I’m not sure what you necessarily work on in practice but because it’s not trained for nearly as much as your right, it’s taken a toll. The tension capacities are different. The scapula are naturally connected by the trapezius muscle so this is why it hurts to lean the opposite way,” you explain. You can almost feel his astonishment as he cocks his head behind him and looks you up and down through grey lashes. He still lays down, almost unbothered by you rubbing up against his bare back whenever you move.

“Y’know you never cease to amaze me? You know a lot about my body.” He compliments slyly. You blush at the word choice. He’s been very, very testy today.

You relent, “Not just yours, we’re all human Ko. Now take a deep breath.”

“Mhmm…Anything for you,” he states sarcastically. You could tell it was sarcasm, so why did it still affect you? You rise a bit on his back from the large breath. With a sudden press to the center, he curses in shock, then follows with an animalistic groan.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he sighs. You press his head down between his arms, lift the left one behind his neck, and connect his hand to his right blade. You only tug a little, careful not to hurt him. Another faint crack.

He moans happily. You release him from your legs, saving the both of you from the suggestive position. It would only get worse from here, for when you needed him to turn over.

“Turn over, please.” He listens and grunts on his way up. Twisting his body over, now propped on his elbows, you could tell most weight was still shifted to his right arm. Bokuto rolls down to his back.

“You’re in charge,” he exhales, running his hands over his face. You knew he had to be cold, the previous warmth you provided was canceled out completely by the cool wood. This was where you’d have to straddle him again—except now it was ten times harder, ten times more suggestive—and you couldn’t stop the slight red from decorating your skin.

“It’s gonna be a little weird at first,” you warn.

“It’s only as weird as you make it,” he smiles knowingly. His knees come up, fully prepared for you to spread over him. Not to mention his chest was still out— It was far more entrancing than his backside. Nonetheless, you swing your leg over once more, and it takes everything in the male to not instinctively place his large hands under your lower thigh to help you. The first thing you do is pull the shirt as low as possible, attempting to cover any temptations.

“What? You scared of me?” Bo entertains.

You clear your throat more for stabilizing yourself, “No, it’s just not necessary at the moment. Left hand over your chest.”

“Sure,” he pushes incredulously, even you could tell he wasn’t the least bit convinced. You’re really fucking scared.

He crosses his left hand over his chest like a salute. His eyes never leave yours under long grey and black hair, except for when you order him to take another deep breath. You grab his arm and push left swiftly, but the pop sounds from his lower back. You must’ve pushed him too far left but he wasn’t complaining. “Sorry, one more time.” You lay forwards, building the strength to push more downwards this time into him, then finally get the spot you hoped for. His mouth opens for a moan again, nothing sounds but a breath of air.

“I would literally pay you for that. Is this just a secret talent?” He breathlessly questions.

“I major in exercise science, so we do a lot of studies on biology and human anatomy. The rest I just kind of guessed to be honest.”

Once he comes down from the feeling and opens his eyes to you still close on his chest, his head goes to dangerous places. Especially since you were smiling at him from your proud work and your back had a slight arch to it. This angle made your proportions completely surreal, your ass enlarging and your waist thinning at the hands of perspective. Of course, you did also just push with a significant amount of quick pressure directly into his groin.

“Okay, how does it feel?” You push up eagerly with your hands on his clothed chest. Your palms were perfectly atop his breasts.

“Like I need a cold shower.”

Surprisingly, you agree with this statement, it was good for the body and should be talked about more for people farther than athletes.

“Good. It’s great for relaxing the sore muscle,” You smile innocently. Ko laughs mainly to himself, “Yeah, it is.”

Your hair falls around your shoulders and over his head. His beautiful golden eyes were almost hidden by his long hair, but those large, expressive eyebrows could be spotted anywhere. They allowed you to read him like a book. At some point, your hands started slightly roaming the surface of his hard body, and your smile fell. You were subconsciously inching closer and closer to him.

Bokuto was disposed to let it happen. You’d been subtly rubbing up on him all day, and most of his words were limited because of you. God, how he loved listening to you go on and on about the subject he hated most, it made him at a loss for words; a rare feeling for someone who always had something to say. Your glasses framed your face perfectly, and your educated speech had him locked up in a poetic cage that you wielded the key to. The worst part is? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it unlocked.

You were already so close to him, his body, so when he brushed a piece of hair back with his fingertips and manually removed your glasses in a way that wouldn’t hurt you, you halted. It was almost like your conscious returned, telling you every bad effect possible. The angel on your shoulder was momentarily silenced by the devil, but finally broke free of the reigns just to declaim you the consequences of your decisions.

“Wait Ko,” you begin, “I-I um…don’t think we should.” You moderately shake your head. “It’ll change things.”

Your voice barely peeks above a whisper. He watched as the realization hit, your eyebrows upturned.

“Isn’t that the fun in it?” His eyes train to your lips before they finally find yours. “Things change all the time,” he smiles hopelessly. His large hand weaves through your hair and pulls you down to him.

Just like that, you were sold. Your full lips meet.

You moan gently in his mouth and fall chest to chest. Now your arch was fully purposeful. Pecks and sweet kisses dissolved into longer ones, it didn’t take long before he was sucking on your tongue like candy. You took up the job of twisting your head to search deeper into his throat, his current position rendering him unable to do what he desires to be doing to you. You think of the possibilities.

Maybe he’d take you on the wall with both legs under his control, slamming into you as you grab onto whatever leverage you could find. Or, he would bend you over in the shower with several fingers inside you and a hand on your throat, your body stuttering as the hot liquid runs down to the drain. You audibly moaned at this on accident.

Desperate, you grind down into him. His hands grip the fat of your ass, but he pulls from your puffy lips and away from your ruffled hair.

“Whatcha thinkin of? Can see it on your face.”

Your strong, independent woman composure was crumbling by the second above him, “Nothing,” you gasp, “just thinking.” He nips at your jaw, then follows down to your neck. He touches on a spot that’s always been sensitive, causing you to let out a keening whine, but he doesn’t say anything, so you assume he wants you to elaborate. You unintentionally moan, “Yes,” and he laughs into your neck.

“Tell me what about.” He’s pushing you further; seeing how much information he could get to leak out of you based off how far gone you were.

“You…touching me,” You reply, fully prepared for what he’s about to ask you next. You’ve read enough books to know. But that wasn’t the issue in question, it was how you’d reply. Would you crumble and shy away, or be bold and instruct him to give it to you? Would you elucidate it to him with the praising tone you know he adores?

“How was I touching you y/n?” Your name rolled so prettily off his kissing tongue. His grip on you tightened awaiting your answer, a problem beneath you that’s risen figuratively and literally.

“Um…” your blush spread so you tucked your face in his neck. “Your fingers were inside.”

It was a lot harder than it looks.

“Is that what you want?” A big grin spreads across his face—you can feel it.

“Yes.”

He finds your legs situated around his waist, sits up, and somehow comes to his feet. You were at least 5 feet in the air now. He casually walks to the couch and flips you on it, but a jagged edge cuts into your back.

“Book, ow ow-“ you wince in pain. By instinct you lifted back up, where he was already prying away the notebook hidden behind the pillows. He sends an apologetic smile and drags you along by your legs once the regained sexual drive returned. Next leaves your jeans.

Just waiting to see his prize, he gets them off quickly. The panties you wore were nothing absolutely special, but they were still lacy nonetheless; your previous being not finding a thong necessary on the way here. Bokuto could care less. The time you took thinking about it was the time he took to rip them off.

You scolded him for it, to which he responded “I’ll buy you any more you want” while punctually kissing your thighs. At the same time his fingers rose and spread your top folds, revealing the wetness you’ve gathered over the span of the past 10 minutes. He dunks a single finger in shallowly, then further pushes the digit deeper, and then turns it upside down so he could curl upwards. His large eyes focus on your heavy-breath reactions while his mouth licks away at your clit. The finger eventually comes out.

“Ko,” you utter. He hums in your pussy with his tongue swirling around. “You aren’t learning like this.” His throaty laugh reverberates up your center and through your body.

“Teach me.”

Once you get what he means, slowly, you reach for the casted away book as he holds your hips in place. It has proven harder than anticipated. His large arms encased your legs, wrapping around your thighs like a fucking present. You should’ve known he’d love it like this; it’s just you assumed he’d favor breathing.

Your glasses were in someplace on the floor elsewhere. Good thing you were near-sighted, but with how he was doing you, it would continue to be cumbersome. You open to a familiar page, already cracking when he sucks at your skin, but you resume a reviewing lesson nonetheless.

“Greece is—hmm—located in Europe,” you take a deep breath, “on the Mediterranean and just to the right of—“

“—The Italian Peninsula.” He completes. He slips two fingers in, scissoring you out and almost toying with you at this point. You were so, unbelievably wet.

You squirm in his hold and brush hair out of your face. He noticed how your eyebrows were forced upwards the slightest bit, resulting in a growing, complacent smile against your pussy lips. “Greece is surrounded by many little islands and water, therefore—”

“—Inducing maritime trade,”

“…And?” Your eyes shutter closed in the moment. The textbook was slowly dropping from your chest.

“Shipbuilding.” Breath fanned against your already extremely responsive body. Deliriously, you slightly open your eyes to find Kotarou’s jawline constantly moving with his pink tongue. He knew when to fill in the blank based off when you lowered the book to see him, expecting an answer. He’d never move away when speaking and just proceeded on with his job. So adroit, the male was—still tactful too, you had to be reading 10x less than your average speed.

You clear your throat, trying your best not to moan while reciting like earlier.

“The soil wasn’t ideal, so majority of the food was—“

“—olives, grapes, ‘n fish.” He was more muffled since the two fingers he had running through you were now pumping soothingly, and when he curled upwards again, the book slid off your breasts, prompted by the sudden arch you displayed, and even further bolstered by your fingers weaving through his hair.

“Great fucking job Ko, just like that.” The praise falls from your mouth and only provokes him to slurp and suck on your pussy harder. Of course, the words could’ve been relative to the studies, but both ways work. The squelch sounds relay through your brain.

His (somewhat) free left hand comes under your shirt, adventures it’s way past your bra. His large hand carries a respective imprint under your shirt. When he feels around the round of your breasts, he slows around your nipple, just waiting to suck on them when he gets the chance.

Feeling you up was his literal favorite thing ever. The thought of your hips automatically rolling up into his touch purely by will and desire fuels his brain in unimaginable ways. Calloused yet soft hands gliding along every curve and roll to memorize the trek of your body, the responses and reactions gathering into knowledge for reservation.

Your right leg was thrown over his shoulder, to which his bicep curled around to reach your upper body where his head dug through your lower. You were so close to nothing and everything, like something in you was held taut, just the interval alone precipitating another hiatus in your mind. His hand rolled around your breast almost as if it were a handle.

“That’s so good Kotarou, don’t stop—show me how good you eat it for me,”

He tried his best to circle his face around and flick the muscle over your clit. There wasn’t much room to move. An easy adapter he was, so he removed his digits and hugged you tight with twain arms. He held his tongue flat and idle, allowing full consent for your hips to gyrate and stutter on his face as you pleased. His long, variegated, fallen hair was threaded through your nails while he moaned himself encouragingly until finally, it snapped.

A loud stream of mushed words and imprecations poured from your lips and reflected off the walls into his covered ears. Unconsciously, legs locked around his head to prohibit his quit, and if your neurological clearheaded mind were apprised that the fingers drenched with your own slick were slipping over your abdomen, the feeling alone would’ve turned you over. However, it wasn’t, therefore creating the most mind-altering orgasm you’ve ever had.

All you could do was laugh whole-heartedly towards the ceiling at the whole thing as it washed over you. It was the epitome of cliche. You were his tutor, helping him out, and somehow ended up landing on the couch with his face betwixt you. His golden eyes were nothing short of a symbol of his happiness, proud of himself and you. You were definitely proud of him too.

No more failed tests!

© hxltic

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i explain india but i'm drunk.

Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.

To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.

India, explained.

So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.

There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.

Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.

In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.

There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.

If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.

Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.

It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.

Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.

Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.

I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.

THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.

Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.

INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.

Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.

Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice

The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry

Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite

Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.

If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.

All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.

Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.

Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.

Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.

I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.

[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]

Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.

[orgasming-caterpillar]

F1 Drivers As Desi Boys

A.K.A. The F1 grid as Indian guys

Also, I will be writing an entire chatfic about this AU on ao3, so stay tuned ;)

Charles Leclerc — “Charlie”

I think he would be from Mumbai. But like, he lived in the very high-end part of it so it's very hard to know right off the bat.

I just KNOW he studied abroad, okay? Italy or Canada I think. Look at his face— you just know he's the kinda guy people see on the street and think “angrej”

Speaks Hindi with a subtle but insufferable white guy accent. He can't even help it, that's just how he speaks. He once called Max “bhenchod” with the most authentic, desi accent when he was mad and they have all beaches in that high ever since.

Dropped out of university in his last year and came back to India to handle his dad's business after his dad's death.

Fell in love with the hot employee and made him the manager. Everyone knows Carlos got the position by sleeping with the new young hot boss but they stay silent to avoid getting fired.

Now lives in the same complex in Mumbai as Carlos, Max, Lando and others. Lives with his mother, two brothers and a dog.

Leo is a recurring guest in every society event no matter what. Shanta aunty ki kitty party? He's invited. Children playing cricket below? He is the referee. Security guard's dad died? Arthi Leo hi utha raha hai.

Best friends with Pierre. went to the same school as him in his childhood.

Not friendly at ALL with Max.

Carlos Sainz— “Mirchi”

Marathi Mulga for sure

Maula Mere Maula king of guy

His ass should be in a TV serial

Was a regular office worker before he fucked down his boss and now he's the manager. And, well, a win is a win, right?

His parents were kind of homophobic before he became the manager. It's hilarious, actually.

He has such a good voice. If you catch him singing one of the old bollywood songs of Lata Mangeshkar or Muhammad Rafi, consider yourself blessed by the gods.

Knows how to cook since he lives alone

Literally the guy every aunty dreams of marrying their daughter to. Manager of his office. Cooks. Cleans. Respects his elders. Funny. Charming. Every time he and Charles go out at least one middle aged person has asked Carlos if he's married yet and frankly, as his boyfriend who's Right There, Charles is pretty offended.

Have y'all seen the pictures of him in those button up shirts and trousers? The eyes that make Rahat Fateh Ali Khan songs play in your ear every time you look into them? So desi husband material

Best friends with Lando, basically brothers with his they are with each other

Like any best friend, he does NOT like Lando's boyfriend

Max Verstappen— “JATT DON'T CARE 💪🔥💯”

From Haryana

The M in Max stands for Mharo Balam Thanedar Chalawe Gypsy— jkjk

Some say he's aggressive, hot headed, quick tempered; some say he's just Haryanvi.

Is in a psychosexual homoerotic rivalry with Charles and is in denial because of his internalised homophobia.

His dad and Charles’ dad were business partners and now they're always wanting to one up another in the family businesses.

Talking about his father— his dad is very rich and also a typical Haryanvi dad. Bapu sehat ke liye haanikarak type shit.

His father made him do kushti when he was younger and Charles still teases him about it

Will randomly infodump about his father whenever the opportunity presents itself

Married

With how he usually is and what his childhood was like, you'd think he'd be a horrible father but you're WRONG

Everyone loves his daughter Prithvi, or P, for short.

They love spoiling her. Every year on her birthday she gets so many gifts it takes her two days just to open them.

Funnily enough, she once “betrayed” him by saying her favourite was Charlie Uncle.

I just think it would be so funny if he drove a Toyota Fortuner.

Lando Norris— “Lassan 🧄”

From Bangalore

Youtuber. Makes videos for every one of his channels religiously. Has a channel for gaming, another for vlogs, another for shorts and somehow manages them all while uploading reels and posting on Instagram???

He's a university student but nobody knows it because he's always posting videos so they just think he's a full time youtuber

“Shares a room” with Oscar, who is his boyfriend, by the way. You'd never guess. (that is a fucking lie. If you watch even one of his livestreams you'd know that they have explored each other's bodies. He's always “dekho guys Oscar aa gaya 😄😄😄” bro you're not fooling anyone)

Has his own merchandise. His designs are always so cool that they sell out before they're properly out.

Will probably make his own content team when he graduates

He once slipped on the desi toilet while travelling and Carlos made a reel about it. It is one of his most famous reels and Lando will absolutely ignore you if you talk about it.

Kinda fuckboyish???? Like he gives off the vibes of the kinda boy that only texts you past midnight and says shit like “what are you wearing? ;)” Like thank god he has a boyfriend or he would single handedly destroy the faith in love of every girl in a 5 kilometre radius

Oscar Piastri— “gora pakora”

From Goa

Frequently shows up on Lando's videos and livestreams

Studying engineering and living with Lando, basically taking care of him because of course he is

Regular victim of Lando's youtube shenanigans. Gets pranked one too many times every other day.

Has this kind of dead stare where he's just 😐 until Lando comes and annoys (see: kisses or pranks) him

Gets asked “bhai tu kabhi kuch bolta kyu nahi hai” so frequently he should just write “pata nahi yaar” on his face.

Has strong beef with Carlos. Do not talk about that man in front of him. Now this is really inconvenient because Carlos is Lando's bEsT FrIeNd iN tHe WoRlD

There beef started when Lando cried because he missed Oscar and Carlos showed up to Oscar's parents house asking him to square the fuck up. His parents —poor them they don't even know their son is gay— were left to wonder why their son was on a video call with his roommate OUTSIDE in the middle of winter vacation while a strange man cussed him the fuck out.

Lando can and will and DOES make him do silly dance trends with him on Instagram reels

Best friend is Logan, who studies engineering with him. You don't know how much you can depend on someone else until you're an IISER student and they're the only good friend you have.

Daniel Ricciardo— “Paaji”

From Chandigarh

Y'all remember Sodhi from Tarak Mehta Ka Ulta Chashma? Yeah. Him.

No one knows how he's able to control Max. Literally his best friend. Max will always have a resting bitch face but when Danny paaji is there he's all “😆😆😂😂🤣🤣” like bro 😐

I just know he would randomly say “oye balle balle balle balle balle” for no reason other than to annoy people. I just know it.

Actually works very hard and always helps people, but he's such a troll that people just think he's some unemployed youtuber with a prank channel

Absolute party animal. Do not ever in front of him mention that you're free that night.

George Russell— “nazuk kali”

From Delhi

Graphic designer. Edits Lando's videos for nim. Studies computer science.

Shared a room with Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant. Their relationship status is very complex. I'm not saying that they're a throuple, I'm not saying that they're friends. What I'm saying is that they're so dependent on each other I don't think they could function alone anymore. These three idiots make a full functional human being together. George cleans the house, Alex does the cooking and Logan does the laundry and the dishes. They manage, thanks.

George Russell is the type of guy to say “ghar pe maa behen nahi hai kya?” When he sees a girl getting catcalled.

George Russell is the type of guy to say “aapko kahin lagi to nahin?” When he bumps into someone.

George Russell is the type of guy to cover his mouth and say “uff” when he eats something spicy on accident.

On that note, George absolutely cannot handle his spice. Never bit into a raw green chilli willingly in his entire life.

You just know he eats the meethi pani puri with the red chutney and all.

Thinks momos are better than pani puri (he's wrong).

Closes his eyes and covers his ears when a condom ad or a spicy movie scene comes on the TV

Very pale because he rarely leaves his room (which— he's a computer science major, come on)

Lewis Hamilton— “dac saab”

From Kozhikode (Kerala)

Fashion influencer, gets brand deals all the time. Always promoting this brand or that.

Also actually a veterinary doctor with his own dog clinic.

Has a youtube channel where heostly makes affordable fashion tips etc but also posts the dogs at his clinic from time to time.

Spent a lot of years in South Delhi where he fell in love with a guy when he was a teenager but when he eventually moved back to Kozhikode they fell out of contact. Now he’s moved to Mumbai as he opened up a new clinic there and doesn't even know that he actually lives in the same goddamn building as the guy he fell in love with 20 years ago back in South Delhi.

I think y'all can already guess who the guy was, but if you can't (shame on you) it's Nico Rosberg.

Had a wife but she cheated so they divorced or something idk how do you justify a 40 year old guy being unmarried in India?

Loves his dogs more than anything, if there's a dog at his clinic that he can't save he will be sad for days.

Speaks Hindi in a voice that's like three octaves lower than his usual voice. Thinks he sounds bad but he sounds so damn hot.

Nico Rosberg— “thi ek.”

From South Delhi

News anchor for sure. Has a sadness in his eyes that makes you wonder if he ever got over the heartbreak he had at 19 (he did not)

Most people think his hair is dyed (it is not) because he's a chapri (he might be)

Legends say that the only time he has been seen with a smile on his face on TV was when he was talking about his childhood best friend.

The reason he doesn't anchor for any of the big or daresay political news channels is because they don't like how he compares international disputes to the fight he had with his best friend when he was 19.

Regularly travels to other metropolitan cities for news coverings (mainly sports) but lives in Mumbai for majority of the time.

In fact, lives in the same building as Lewis. The fact that they haven't run into each other in the elevator yet is a miracle (or a curse).

Will talk about love and heartbreak to anyone who would listen. You know those boys who say “thi ek” whenever someone tries to talk to them about love? Yeah that's him.

Married and has two daughters that he loves very much.

No pets because they remind him too much of Lewis.

Sebastian Vettel— “Chacha”

From Delhi

Lives in Mumbai with his wife.

Best friends with Lewis, knows everything about him and Nico.

Kind of a father figure to Charles.

The beloved colony uncle that always has the wildest stories ever. Catch him at the tea stall and just get him talking— you will be a changed man when he is done.

“Aur phir uska accident ho gaya aur usne apna haath kho diya, to uski manghetar ki family ne unse rishta tudwa liya. Jiske baad uski manghetar ki sagai mujhse hui aur phir hamari shaadi hui or shayad aaj bhi wo akela hi ek haath se apna hila raha hai bechara”

“...”

You would think considering how sweet he is, he was always this sweet but NO, this man was a MENACE.

Everyone who knew him before he got married wants him dead even now after all the years.

Fernando Alonso— "Kaka"

From Jaipur

The exact opposite of Sebastian.

The old man you see on the side of the road with paan in his mouth and a gaali on his lips

Also tells you stories from his youth and they're just as interesting but he's so arrogant about it that you're no longer interested in listening five minutes in no matter how interesting the story is

The kind of old man who sees children playing in the streets and starts acting like an overly invested referee for no reason.

Goes to the park in the morning at the same time as Sebastian but unlike him, Fernando does not let the joy and whimsy of life have any effect on him making you wonder why he's there at all

Lance Stroll— “vegan wali diet almond wala ghee 😌💅”

From South Bombay

Ameer baap ki bigri aulad

“What do you mean I can't buy the whole store?”

Y'all remember that “Mawn, terew paaw ki jewtie maawwww” girl??? Yeah

Sonam Kapoor is jealous of how much better he is at being a nepo baby

Logan Sargeant— “ye bhi thik hai”

Lives with George and Alex

From Goa

Thank god he does because he would not be surviving otherwise

Might have feelings for his roommates but all he knows how to do is wash the dishes and the clothes and he doesn't wanna die of hunger so he's silent.

Except maybe in front of Oscar but that's his best friendddd

Studying computer science too

Alex Albon— “dhokla4lifer”

From Gujarat

I might be projecting a bit but as someone who fucking LOVES dhokla, I don't see any reason as to why Alex should not.

Cooks for his two roommates, and always cooks so good.

Dhokla on Sundays and a tiffin box full of thepla and aam ka aachar whenever one of them is travelling home

Studying history and geography

Yuki Tsunoda— “momo wale bhaiya”

From Dehradun

Do not call him momo wale bhaiya. He can and will kill you.

Actually does love cooking

Has his own restaurant near the university campus

Pierre Gasly— “tantar mantar”

From West Bengal

Tired of everyone's “kaala jaadu” jokes.

Charles’ best friend and confidante.

Gossip girls. They have all the tea on everyone in the uni.

“Bokachoda”

Does sports.

Final year law student

Esteban Ocon— “Pierre's ex (he is NOT)”

From Odisha

Has beef with Pierre.

Will argue about anything from the origin of roshogulla to the state's contribution in the fight for freedom of the country.

Also final year law student

Extras—

Sergio Perez from Bihar

K Mag from Kashmir (haha get it? Because he's a track terroris—)

Nico Hulkenburg from Kashmir too

Valtteri Bottas from The Andaman Nicobar islands or something idk he shows so much ass it's unreal

Zhou Guanyu from Meghalaya

[no1heyyyyyyyy]

Sevika's tastes

Sevika is an old lady and she just wants to be left alone. She likes to look good but when it comes to clothes, Miss thing just doesn’t care that much. She always has practicality in mind. So, no dresses, nothing flowy, has to have natural fabrics so that her skin can breathe, and she requires that things are comfortable. Her shoes are always made for hardware with a strong sole and often reinforced. In the modern world, I see her working in metal working (specifically welding), so she has to have clothes that are multipurpose. Though, if she was forced to wear anything really nice, it would be a simple well-cut blazer and a button down with jeans or slacks that conform to her legs nicely. She prefers earthy colors, nothing too flashy. I think she’d really appreciate a nice dark green, or perhaps brown. I also feel that she would enjoy a nice flannel regularly.

With food, I’m afraid her palette is as unrefined as her clothing choices. She genuinely does not care what she eats, though she really likes chicken- loves hot wings, spicy food is her love. But, her comfort food will always be the food native to what part of India her family is from. I don’t think she’s the best cook, but she has a few family recipes that she knows so well (aloo gobi, chai, samosa, tikka masala, saag paneer). And, I think that on nights where she’s feeling really sad or lonely she always craves those foods. She’d love to cook with or for her partner, it’d be the best way to get to know her honestly. Because it allows for her to show vulnerability through actions and without words. She loves to take care of people and I think in modern times she’d mother her friends just a bit, always making sure they’re eating well, drinking their water, and sleeping right (if not she’ll give them some chai). She doesn’t eat beef or dark meats in general, and she isn’t the biggest fan of seafood or turkey. So, she sticks with her chicken and her paneer. She’ll eat tofu but it needs to be in curry or something similar.

This woman would love 80s hair metal, music is something that I genuinely believe she’d love so much. She’d play drums as a teenager, dead set on becoming the drummer of the next Metallica. She’d also love the old school heavy metal bands, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Pantera. She’d love them all. I think she’d like some old school 90s rap too, but none of the new-age mumble rap that’s going on. She wouldn’t really like Taylor Swift’s music, just because it didn’t vibe with her, but she respected Taylor’s ability to get a bag. She has had a huge crush on Adele ever since she heard the album 25 when it came out. She liked some of her music, but thought Adele was drop dead gorgeous and all mature and soulful and shit, hit her in the feels and made her whipped for this woman she didn’t even know.

For movies she loves shitty 80s slasher horror, nothing that makes her think. She’d sit back in her old recliner in her pajamas and house slippers whilst watching Slumber Party Massacre for the third time, and then put on Golden Girls because she feels that Dorothy Zbornak is her spirit animal. She likes a good sitcom too and a ridiculous drama (she loves Desperate Housewives), she likes the camp, the over the top acting and dumb plots, it makes her laugh and feel care free in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. She just wants to curl up with her pets (she would have many) and watch teen-based tv shows that revolve around crime or secrets (Pretty Little Liars, Riverdale, Vampire Diaries, even Buffy etc.). She likes how bad they are, but she gets so invested it’s ridiculous.

For personal scents she’d like more woody, alluring scents that are also kind of sweet. Think Amber by Rag n’ Bone (it smells so good), she doesn’t spray much, just a spritz, it wafts around her just slightly, just enough for women to fall at her feet. Her individual smell wouldn't be overpowering but it would definitely be clear. It’s grounding and soothing. Her sweat stinks though, every time she comes back from the gym, she goes straight to the showers because her own dogs don’t want to come near her b.o.

In general, Sevika is an old woman who couldn’t give less of a shit. She wants to be left alone with her life and her people and chill. Which is why, I feel like she isn’t that opinionated on much unless it’s boundaries or causes she cares about. She just doesn’t have the energy to be bothered with trivial things like which movie to choose for the night, or which restaurant to go to. She is tired and all she wants to do is eat good food with her partner and her pets in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t like neighbors and she doesn’t like people in her business. She doesn’t need a perfect life, just one that’s hers.

for whatever reason the letters are being weird, it is killing me. Please ignore it.

[macrolit]

NYT's Notable Books of 2023

Each year, we pore over thousands of new books, seeking out the best novels, memoirs, biographies, poetry collections, stories and more. Here are the standouts, selected by the staff of The New York Times Book Review.

AFTER SAPPHO by Selby Wynn Schwartz

Inspired by Sappho’s work, Schwartz’s debut novel offers an alternate history of creativity at the turn of the 20th century, one that centers queer women artists, writers and intellectuals who refused to accept society’s boundaries.

ALL THE SINNERS BLEED by S.A. Cosby

In his earlier thrillers, Cosby worked the outlaw side of the crime genre. In his new one — about a Black sheriff in a rural Southern town, searching for a serial killer who tortures Black children — he’s written a crackling good police procedural.

THE BEE STING by Paul Murray

In Murray’s boisterous tragicomic novel, a once wealthy Irish family struggles with both the aftermath of the 2008 financial crash and their own inner demons.

BIOGRAPHY OF X by Catherine Lacey

Lacey rewrites 20th-century U.S. history through the audacious fictional life story of X, a polarizing female performance artist who made her way from the South to New York City’s downtown art scene.

BIRNAM WOOD by Eleanor Catton

In this action-packed novel from a Booker Prize winner, a collective of activist gardeners crosses paths with a billionaire doomsday prepper on land they each want for different purposes.

BLACKOUTS by Justin Torres

This lyrical, genre-defying novel — winner of the 2023 National Book Award — explores what it means to be erased and how to persist after being wiped away.

BRIGHT YOUNG WOMEN by Jessica Knoll

In her third and most assured novel, Knoll shifts readers’ attention away from a notorious serial killer, Ted Bundy, and onto the lives — and deaths — of the women he killed. Perhaps for the first time in fiction, Knoll pooh-poohs Bundy's much ballyhooed intelligence, celebrating the promise and perspicacity of his victims instead.

CHAIN-GANG ALL-STARS by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

This satire — in which prison inmates duel on TV for a chance at freedom — makes readers complicit with the bloodthirsty fans sitting ringside. The fight scenes are so well written they demonstrate how easy it might be to accept a world this sick.

THE COVENANT OF WATER by Abraham Verghese

Verghese’s first novel since “Cutting for Stone” follows generations of a family across 77 years in southwestern India as they contend with political strife and other troubles — capped by a shocking discovery made by the matriarch’s granddaughter, a doctor.

CROOK MANIFESTO by Colson Whitehead

Returning to the world of his novel “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead again uses a crime story to illuminate a singular neighborhood at a tipping point — here, Harlem in the 1970s.

THE DELUGE by Stephen Markley

Markley’s second novel confronts the scale and gravity of climate change, tracking a cadre of scientists and activists from the gathering storm of the Obama years to the super-typhoons of future decades. Immersive and ambitious, the book shows the range of its author’s gifts: polyphonic narration, silken sentences and elaborate world-building.

EASTBOUND by Maylis de Kerangal

In de Kerangal’s brief, lyrical novel, translated by Jessica Moore, a young Russian soldier on a trans-Siberian train decides to desert and turns to a civilian passenger, a Frenchwoman, for help.

EMILY WILDE’S ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF FAERIES by Heather Fawcett

The world-building in this tale of a woman documenting a new kind of faerie is exquisite, and the characters are just as textured and richly drawn. This is the kind of folkloric fantasy that remembers the old, blood-ribboned source material about sacrifices and stolen children, but adds a modern gloss.

ENTER GHOST by Isabella Hammad

In Hammad’s second novel, a British Palestinian actor returns to her hometown in Israel to recover from a breakup and spend time with her family. Instead, she’s talked into joining a staging of “Hamlet” in the West Bank, where she has a political awakening.

FORBIDDEN NOTEBOOK by Alba de Céspedes

A best-selling novelist and prominent anti-Fascist in her native Italy, de Céspedes has lately fallen into unjust obscurity. Translated by Ann Goldstein, this elegant novel from the 1950s tells the story of a married mother, Valeria, whose life is transformed when she begins keeping a secret diary.

THE FRAUD by Zadie Smith

Based on a celebrated 19th-century trial in which the defendant was accused of impersonating a nobleman, Smith’s novel offers a vast panoply of London and the English countryside, and successfully locates the social controversies of an era in a handful of characters.

FROM FROM by Monica Youn

In her fourth book of verse, a svelte, intrepid foray into American racism, Youn turns a knowing eye on society’s love-hate relationship with what it sees as the “other.”

A GUEST IN THE HOUSE by Emily Carroll

After a lonely young woman marries a mild-mannered widower and moves into his home, she begins to wonder how his first wife actually died. This graphic novel alternates between black-and-white and overwhelming colors as it explores the mundane and the horrific.

THE HEAVEN & EARTH GROCERY STORE by James McBride

McBride’s latest, an intimate, big-hearted tale of community, opens with a human skeleton found in a well in the 1970s, and then flashes back to the past, to the ’20s and ’30s, to explore the town’s Black, Jewish and immigrant history.

HELLO BEAUTIFUL by Ann Napolitano

In her radiant fourth novel, Napolitano puts a fresh spin on the classic tale of four sisters and the man who joins their family. Take “Little Women,” move it to modern-day Chicago, add more intrigue, lots of basketball and a different kind of boy next door and you’ve got the bones of this thoroughly original story.

A HISTORY OF BURNING by Janika Oza

This remarkable debut novel tells the story of an extended Indo-Ugandan family that is displaced, settled and displaced again.

HOLLY by Stephen King

The scrappy private detective Holly Gibney (who appeared in “The Outsider” and several other novels) returns, this time taking on a missing-persons case that — in typical King fashion — unfolds into a tale of Dickensian proportions.

A HOUSE FOR ALICE by Diana Evans

This polyphonic novel traces one family’s reckoning after the patriarch dies in a fire, as his widow, a Nigerian immigrant, considers returning to her home country and the entire family re-examines the circumstances of their lives.

THE ILIAD by Homer

Emily Wilson’s propulsive new translation of the “Iliad” is buoyant and expressive; she wants this version to be read aloud, and it would certainly be fun to perform.

INK BLOOD SISTER SCRIBE by Emma Törzs

The sisters in Törzs's delightful debut have been raised to protect a collection of magic books that allow their keepers to do incredible things. Their story accelerates like a fugue, ably conducted to a tender conclusion.

KAIROS by Jenny Erpenbeck

This tale of a torrid, yearslong relationship between a young woman and a much older married man — translated from the German by Michael Hofmann — is both profound and moving.

KANTIKA by Elizabeth Graver

Inspired by the life of Graver’s maternal grandmother, this exquisitely imagined family saga spans cultures and continents as it traces the migrations of a Sephardic Jewish girl from turn-of-the-20th-century Constantinople to Barcelona, Havana and, finally, Queens, N.Y.

LAND OF MILK AND HONEY by C Pam Zhang

Zhang’s lush, keenly intelligent novel follows a chef who’s hired to cook for an “elite research community” in the Italian Alps, in a not-so-distant future where industrial-agricultural experiments in America’s heartland have blanketed the globe in a crop-smothering smog.

LONE WOMEN by Victor LaValle

The year is 1915, and the narrator of LaValle’s horror-tinged western has arrived in Montana to cultivate an unforgiving homestead. She’s looking for a fresh start as a single Black woman in a sparsely populated state, but the locked trunk she has in stow holds a terrifying secret.

MONICA by Daniel Clowes

In Clowes’s luminous new work, the titular character, abandoned by her mother as a child, endures a life of calamities before resolving to learn about her origins and track down her parents.

THE MOST SECRET MEMORY OF MEN by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr

Based on a true story and translated by Lara Vergnaud, Sarr’s novel — about a Senegalese writer brought low by a plagiarism scandal — asks sharp questions about the state of African literature in the West.

THE NEW NATURALS by Gabriel Bump

In Bump’s engrossing new novel, a young Black couple, mourning the loss of their newborn daughter and disillusioned with the world, start a utopian society — but tensions both internal and external soon threaten their dreams.

NORTH WOODS by Daniel Mason

Mason’s novel looks at the occupants of a single house in Massachusetts over several centuries, from colonial times to present day. An apple farmer, an abolitionist, a wealthy manufacturer: The book follows these lives and many others, with detours into natural history and crime reportage.

NOT EVEN THE DEAD by Juan Gómez Bárcena

An ex-conquistador in Spanish-ruled, 16th-century Mexico is asked to hunt down an Indigenous prophet in this novel by a leading writer in Spain, splendidly translated by Katie Whittemore. The epic search stretches across much of the continent and, as the author bends time and history, lasts centuries.

THE NURSERY by Szilvia Molnar

“I used to be a translator and now I am a milk bar.” So begins Molnar’s brilliant novel about a new mother falling apart within the four walls of her apartment.

OUR SHARE OF NIGHT by Mariana Enriquez

This dazzling, epic narrative, translated from the Spanish by Megan McDowell, is a bewitching brew of mystery and myth, peopled by mediums who can summon “the Darkness” for a secret society of wealthy occultists seeking to preserve consciousness after death.

PINEAPPLE STREET by Jenny Jackson

Jackson’s smart, dishy debut novel embeds readers in an upper-crust Brooklyn Heights family — its real estate, its secrets, its just-like-you-and-me problems. Does money buy happiness? “Pineapple Street” asks a better question: Does it buy honesty?

THE REFORMATORY by Tananarive Due

Due’s latest — about a Black boy, Robert, who is wrongfully sentenced to a fictionalized version of Florida’s infamous and brutal Dozier School — is both an incisive examination of the lingering traumas of racism and a gripping, ghost-filled horror novel. “The novel’s extended, layered denouement is so heart-smashingly good, it made me late for work,” Randy Boyagoda wrote in his review. “I couldn’t stop reading.”

THE SAINT OF BRIGHT DOORS by Vajra Chandrasekera

Trained to kill by his mother and able to see demons, the protagonist of Chandrasekera’s stunning and lyrical novel flees his destiny as an assassin and winds up in a politically volatile metropolis.

SAME BED DIFFERENT DREAMS by Ed Park

Double agents, sinister corporations, slasher films, U.F.O.s — Park’s long-awaited second novel is packed to the gills with creative elements that enliven his acerbic, comedic and lyrical odyssey into Korean history and American paranoia.

TAKE WHAT YOU NEED by Idra Novey

This elegant novel resonates with implication beyond the taut contours of its central story line. In Novey’s deft hands, the complex relationship between a young woman and her former stepmother hints at the manifold divisions within America itself.

THIS OTHER EDEN by Paul Harding

In his latest novel, inspired by the true story of a devastating 1912 eviction in Maine that displaced an entire mixed-race fishing community, Harding turns that history into a lyrical tale about the fictional Apple Island on the cusp of destruction.

TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett

Locked down on the family’s northern Michigan cherry orchard, three sisters and their mother, a former actress whose long-ago summer fling went on to become a movie star, reflect on love and regret in Patchett’s quiet and reassuring Chekhovian novel.

THE UNSETTLED by Ayana Mathis

This novel follows three generations across time and place: a young mother trying to create a home for herself and her son in 1980s Philadelphia, and her mother, who is trying to save their Alabama hometown from white supremacists seeking to displace her from her land.

VICTORY CITY by Salman Rushdie

Rushdie’s new novel recounts the long life of Pampa Kampana, who creates an empire from magic seeds in 14th-century India. Her world is one of peace, where men and women are equal and all faiths welcome, but the story Rushdie tells is of a state that forever fails to live up to its ideals.

WE COULD BE SO GOOD by Cat Sebastian

This queer midcentury romance — about reporters who meet at work, become friends, move in together and fall in love — lingers on small, everyday acts like bringing home flowers with the groceries, things that loom large because they’re how we connect with others.

WESTERN LANE by Chetna Maroo

In this polished and disciplined debut novel, an 11-year-old Jain girl in London who has just lost her mother turns her attention to the game of squash — which in Maroo’s graceful telling becomes a way into the girl’s grief.

WITNESS by Jamel Brinkley

Set in Brooklyn, and featuring animal rescue workers, florists, volunteers, ghosts and UPS workers, Brinkley’s new collection meditates on what it means to see and be seen.

Y/N by Esther Yi

In this weird and wondrous novel, a bored young woman in thrall to a boy band buys a one-way ticket to Seoul.

YELLOWFACE by R.F. Kuang

Kuang’s first foray outside of the fantasy genre is a breezy and propulsive tale about a white woman who achieves tremendous literary success by stealing a manuscript from a recently deceased Asian friend and passing it off as her own.

[jumpstart-if]

Jumpstart is a character-driven slice of life, containing drama and romance. It's mainly inspired by the show 90210 and the movie Mean Girls.

You had multiple sticky notes on your bedroom ceiling, bathroom mirror, and any other surface you were able to get it on.

How to be rich by 21:

1. Survive high school Survive the final year of high school 2. Move out and get a pet (finally!) 3. Become rich and famous (should be easy enough...)

This list has followed you ever since your eleventh birthday when you were suddenly bombarded with the dreaded question:

‘What is your dream job?’

Quite frankly, you didn’t dream of labour. At least not the regular kind. Call it psychic, but you knew you were destined for the easy life, filled with copious amounts of wealth, relaxation, and travels. You were are special.

Seriously, you had everything set out for your 'rags to riches' story:

You weren’t the most popular, but you also weren’t eating lunch alone in the school bathroom. ✔️

You made sure to work a part-time job, starting from the age of thirteen, so it would be easier for future fans to relate to you. ✔️

You were on your way to being crowned ‘Most likely to be famous’, which would have made for the perfect moment on ‘The Late-Night Phil Show’.✔️

Everything was going to plan… until it wasn’t.

Not only did your mother decide to marry some wealthy businessman, but she also packed up all your stuff and moved you hundreds of miles away from your home that screamed ‘humble beginnings’ and into a five bedroom (minimum) mega mansion.

Oh, and public school? Forget about that. From tomorrow on, you’ll be one of those rich private school kids. Goodbye 'rags to riches' background, and hello nepotism allegations.

Though, that’s a problem for future you...

Right now, you’ll have to adapt to school life the way the people at the top of the food chain do it. 

Get ready to ‘survive the final year of high school’ filled with gossip, betrayal, romance, angst, and social drama you could’ve sworn only happened in movies and TV shows.

Jumpstart is rated 18+ as there will be mentions of sexual themes, drugs, alcohol and violence.

Choose your MC's name and gender.

Decide your MC's personality, clothing style, and much more.

Get involved with 1 out of 4 romanceable characters.

Climb to the top of the hierarchy at Maplewood Private School.

Jumpstart your way into the life of stardom and wealth.

Isaiah/India (m/f) 'the high school worldwide heartthrob':

You could’ve sworn you saw them gracing the red carpet in some of the hundreds of magazines stashed in one of your moving boxes. Child of the famous celebrity make-up artist, Naomi Lawton and basketball star, Sean Lawton. Wanted by many, yet only successfully claimed by A. Though, judging by how many people I can be regularly spotted with, it begs the question: Does I care?

Appearance: Sepia skin tone. M! has short coily black hair, mostly styled in cornrows and decorated with some silver hair jewellery. F! has long bleached coily hair, currently styled in waist-length blonde braids.

Alison/Anderson (m/f) 'the school's number one':

Not quite like the ones in movies… they’re somewhat nice? At first, they can be straight-up vicious, ripping apart any and every little detail they can get their hands on, but once you earn their trust, you’ll learn that behaviour is much more of a façade than a true reflection of them.

Appearance: Olive complexion with sprinkles of freckles on their nose and cheeks. M! has short curly ginger hair that loosely hangs over his forehead. F! has shoulder-length ginger curls and bangs.

Tegan (m/f) 'the estranged childhood best friend'

You were eight years old, when their family decided to move someplace else, ripping your, what you thought to be inseparable, bond into two. At the start you tried to keep up, exchanging letters almost every day… then weeks… then months if anything, until complete silence. You’re not sure who stopped sending them first or when even, but one thing’s for certain: you were no longer friends. No, after ten years, you definitely weren’t.

Appearance: Brown skin tone. M! has black buzzed hair. F! has straight, waist-length black hair.

Levi/Leighton (m/f) 'wherever they go, trouble follows aka the school's bad boy/girl':

For someone with a big reputation, there’s next to nothing that can be found on them. And all your pestering questions are met with nothing but warnings, yet you can’t help but grow more curious about them with each passing encounter.

Appearance: Tawny skin tone, though you can’t help but notice the faded scar tainting their otherwise clear left cheek. They have wavy brown hair, reaching down to their shoulders.

Reblogs are more than welcome and thanks for reading!

DEMO TBA

[reintechindia]

The Evolution of Viewing: How LED TV Manufacturer Are Shaping the Future

The landscape of television LED TV manufacturer technology has been dramatically transformed over the years, evolving from the early days of black-and-white screens to the cutting-edge LED TV of today. This article delves into the significant milestones and emerging trends that are shaping the future of TV viewing. We’ll explore the sleek design evolution, color accuracy advancements, smart features, and the potential impact of technologies like 8K resolution, augmented reality, and 5G on how we consume home entertainment.

Read More....

[ketrindoll]

List of russian lies in the UN or during diplomatic speeches:

1. In January-February of 2022 russia claimed in the UN that they will not invade Ukraine, that they have no plans to invade Ukraine, and evidence of upcoming invasion are lies made by the US or others.

End of the same month russia launched a full-scale invasion.

2. Russia claimed in the UN that the reason they attacked Ukraine was to fight some "local nazis" and that they are indeed good guys fighting Ukrainian hatred. That, however, does not explain why: a) russia opposed the grain deal until Turkey threatened to make it work one way or the other, showing their intention to starve hundreds of millions of people in neutral countries for no reason whatsoever, b) russia refused to allow UN or Red Cross etc to observe the conditions of POWs or to open humanitarian corridors for people to escape from Mariupol or other conflict zones, with thousands of witnesses reporting abductions, filtration camps, and shelling of retreating civilians, c) russia claimed to only want to protect local russian population, yet completely destroyed whole cities in majorly-russian-speaking Eastern Ukraine, like Mariupol (satellites showing mass graves), and bombing mainly civilian targets - schools, hospitals, theatres, a shopping mall during peak hours, a train station where people waited for evacuation, apartment buildings, etc. Currently we can see that there is no effort on the russian-controlled side of Dnipro river to help people in flooded areas, with videos and citizen testimonies reporting shelling of all disaster aid attempts, d) russia claimed that they only hate the "nazi" Ukrainian government, yet they openly shelled Ukrainian power grids during winter, for no other reason than to leave innocent civilians with no gas or electricity.

3. Russian state TV, public figures like Solovyov, former President and Prime Minister as well as head of security council of russia Medvedev openly stated either on national TV or in their social media pages that they want to "exterminate" Ukrainians. That the whole country should not exist, that Ukrainian language is fake, etc etc. This is genocidal speech and it is not limited to Ukraine either. The Baltic States, Poland, etc also received such claims - that they "do not exist" that they "belong to russia" or that they "should be invaded". Makes it very obvious who the imperialistic, colonist aggressor actually is. Medvedev also repeatedly threatened Western European countries with missile or even nuclear attack, yet they claim to only be "defending themselves".

4. Lavrov got laughed at during a summit in India for claiming that "russia was invaded by Ukraine". Do I even need to explain why this is a lie? If I do, check 1st point again. Or just turn on your brain.

5. Then there's more sci-fi nutjobby official russian claims (or lies) about - bioweapons in Ukraine, pidgeons carrying disease or weapons to russia, Ukraine having some super-soldiers, or even dark magic, as indicated by russian Ministry of Defense changing the goal of their "special military operation" from "denazification" to "desatanization".

And that's just a few of the main ones. More is discussed in the latest UN meeting, you can watch the video on their official website.

So, knowing all of this, why the fuck would you believe ANYTHING they say? Especially about the destruction of dam?

Russia has repeatedly shown aggressive attitude towards neighbouring countries, claimed their wish to occupy them, russian officials called for extermination of whole nationalities, and both President putin and Belova have enough evidence against them for ICC to issue a warrant for them for GENOCIDE AND WAR CRIMES.

If you still believe in russia, despite anything they themselves say, you're either a genocide-supporter or unbelievably stupid.