#desi people <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[oct0bra1ns]

an: desi boyss <33333 lolol, have fun with this one, i plan to add more lore for him later

Aarav stepped out of his car, exhaling as he took in the familiar sight of your house. It had been years since he’d last stood here, but nothing had changed—the same whitewashed walls, the same wind chimes hanging by the door, the same faint scent of agarbatti lingering in the air.

He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, taking a steadying breath before ringing the doorbell. He wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t. But something about coming here first—before even seeing you—made his heart hammer just a little faster.

The door swung open, and there stood your mother, blinking in surprise before her face lit up with recognition.

"Aarav?!" she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest before immediately reaching forward to pull him into a firm hug. "Look at you! When did you get back?"

"Just a few days ago, Aunty," he said, smiling as she pulled back to inspect him.

"Such a big man now, huh? All suited up," she teased, swatting his arm. "And you didn't even call to say you were coming?"

"Figured I’d surprise you all," Aarav said smoothly, stepping inside. "Besides, if I gave you a heads-up, Uncle would have had an entire feast ready, and I can't let him go through all that trouble."

"Arey, as if he needs a reason to feed people," she laughed, leading him into the living room. "Sit, sit! I'll get something for you."

Before he could protest, she was already calling out to your father, who emerged from his study, eyes widening in pleasant surprise.

"Aarav! Welcome back, beta!" your father said, shaking his hand firmly before clapping him on the back. "How does it feel, being home after so long?"

Aarav hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then smiled. "Different," he admitted. "But good."

He glanced around the living room, noting every little detail that remained unchanged—the framed pictures on the wall, the cushions that had probably been there since he was a teenager. His eyes drifted towards one, a photo of you standing with a Dupatta and him with a makeshift sherwani, frowning. 

It felt strangely nostalgic, looking at all the mischief the both of you got up to before he left for London.

"So, tell me," your mother started as she set down a plate of snacks in front of him, "have you met our child yet, or are we the lucky ones getting to see you first?"

Aarav smirked, leaning back into the sofa with easy confidence. "Not yet," he said, picking up a piece of namak para. "But I have to ask, Aunty… do they still remember their husband?"

Your mother’s hand froze mid-pour as she was serving him tea, while your father let out a short, surprised laugh.

"Oh god," your mother groaned, shaking her head. "Not this again."

"Of course this again!" Aarav grinned. "That was a legally binding terrace wedding, if you recall. I made very serious vows. You were all witnesses."

Your father chuckled, sipping his chai. "I do remember someone demanding that he touch their feet like a proper groom."

Aarav smirked. "And I refused, which is probably why the marriage didn't last."

Your mother rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you two were impossible. You used to fight like an old married couple before that wedding nonsense, and even worse after it."

Aarav laughed, shaking his head. Yeah, we did.

He could still remember it so clearly—the way you had huffed when he refused to follow your made-up wedding rituals, the way you had chased him around the terrace, dupatta flying behind you like a dramatic heroine in some Bollywood film. Back then, it had been just another one of your games, something silly and fleeting.

Even then, he still liked you, he didn’t want anyone else but him to stand beside you as your husband, he wouldn’t allow anyone else next to you.

Aarav exhaled dramatically, shaking his head as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You know, I���ve been thinking, Aunty,” he mused, glancing toward your mother with an exaggerated expression of disappointment. “It’s been years since that wedding, and yet, I never received any sweets. Not even a single box of mithai.”

Your mother gasped, placing a hand on her chest as if personally affronted. “Arrey, how did we forget? Such a shame! We’ve denied our poor son-in-law his wedding sweets!”

Your father chuckled behind his cup of tea. “Looks like we’re at fault, after all.”

Aarav sighed, shaking his head. “At least send me a box now. Consider it overdue compensation for emotional damages.”

Your mother swatted his arm with a laugh. “Hai, drama king! Emotional damages, is it? I should have known you’d come back from London talking like this.” She stood up, already heading toward the kitchen. “Fine, fine, you’ll get your sweets. I have fresh gulab jamun in the fridge.”

Aarav perked up, grinning. “See? Now this is the kind of in-law treatment I deserve.”

Your father snorted. “Don’t get too comfortable, beta. You never officially married our child, remember? No pheras, no legal documents. That means you’re still on trial.”

Aarav gasped in mock offense. “Trial? Uncle, please! I have proof—I pinky-swore! That’s more binding than any contract.”

Your mother called out from the kitchen, “Then why did you run away, haan?”

Aarav opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a moment.

Because that—that wasn’t just a joke. That was real.

He forced a smirk, masking the sudden shift in his chest. “Fine, you got me there. But don’t worry, Aunty.” He leaned back, flashing a slow, easy grin. “I’m back now, aren’t I?”

"And I promise to be the best husband ever."

[aerequets]

I have no excuses

[inejqhafa]

the scene where anthony tells kate that he wants to go to India so that their child knows their history and that he does too is so important especially for brown girls who are so often told to focus on integrating into their new households and forget their family once they get married. it really shows how much he values all parts of kate’s identity and who she is beyond just being viscountess, a wife, a future mother, etc. and then kate’s reaction of being fully and completely overwhelmed because she could never have imagined that he would be the one to bring it up, let alone being there for the birth makes me so emotional 😭

[greektragedybitch]

give me some sunshine is the national student anthem

[mi-a-mor]

if he's not the one I'm receiving "love" from, then I don't want it from anybody else. I mean it.

[cult-of-the-eye]

the way mary keay had sanskrit written on her and yet no one has considered south asian gerry keay????

[simp-for-fiction]

If you hate orange bar (orange popsicle) then I'm sorry but we can't be friends.

[cruel-kaya]

I can yap your ears off and then go silent for days , that's how I am

[psykopaths]

I've got so much attention and affection to give... But none of ya'll bitches deserve it.

[oct0bra1ns]

What is desi bs

Desi in general is south asian people

and by BS i mean, im writing some good old yummy desi yandere stuff :)

[chand-ki-priyatama]

teach me how to write hindi poetry

See writing poetry is not something anyone can teach you , you write just write what you feel without caring for the fact that does it rhyme or not.... Take writing as something you love and not as a chore , and you'll see the difference....

Personally to me , art be it in it's any form has always been an escape from this world , so just take a deep breathe and start writing anything

To enhance your vocabulary read more or use rekhta

If anything more feel free to DM me

[zeherili-ankhein]

ও বেহুলা

আমি মরলে

আমায় নিয়ে ভাসাইও ভেলা

Ok, I love this song so much...

[jessamine-rose]

*squeezes aine this time*

Read my Yandere! Dottore fics first (⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎)

Chemistry ๑ Magnum Opus

So @ainescribe decided to surprise me with more Darling fan art, this time of Dottore’s Assistant!! *sobs* I love it so much ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Once again, feedback will be in the tags. Thank you so much for enjoying my writing, Aine <3

[inertia-writes]

dehradun days

you meet them for the first time,

knowing it's probably the last.

might as well make the most of this time,

since life comes at you fast.

you find the strangest of signals

in the no-network zones.

cross-tent communication with folks,

just rambling about the unknown.

there's the warmth of shared laughter,

that carries you through freezing nights,

and you look up at the flickering stars,

to finally see things in a different light.

and at 11,000 ft above sea level

you finally reach the peak,

just to realise the joy was in the journey,

and the friends you made that week.

you'll visit caves & splendid cafes,

and remember the city in mere parts,

but years later, you'll still tell everyone,

how dehradun captured your heart.

[mi-a-mor]

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! THIS MEANS A LOT TO ME! <3🥹

STOOPP! 😭😭 YALL ARE THE NICEST!!!😭😭💗🎀

imma just... *grabs the tissues*

[abyssmita]

this Barbie is a certified hater <3