#i miss mumbai man

[henrychengtual]

she was so right about this.......

[girlivealwaysbean]

.

[petrov88]

Kathir was a handsome young man living in the bustling city of Mumbai. He had always been popular among girls, but deep down, he felt something missing - an unexplainable yearning for men that he couldn't quite put into words.One day, on a whim, Kathir decided to get a bold new haircut at a trendy salon. The stylist convinced him to try a messy, asymmetrical look with choppy layers that framed his face. As Kathir gazed at his reflection, he noticed a certain allure to this edgier version of himself.On the subway ride home, Kathir caught the eye of a pierced and tattooed man sitting across from him. Their gazes locked, and Kathir felt a jolt of electricity course through his body.

The stranger flashed a charming smile, revealing a silver stud glinting in his left eyebrow. Kathir found himself captivated by the mysterious man's rugged beauty. As the train lurched forward, the stranger stood up and approached Kathir.Hey there, cute haircut, he said, his voice low and smooth like honey. I'm Raja.Kathir's heart raced as he shook Raja's hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. Thanks... I just got it done, he replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in his stomach.Raja leaned in closer, his breath tickling Kathir's ear. You know, that style really suits you. Makes your eyes pop even more. He paused, then added, And those lips... perfect for kissing.

Kathir stumbled home in a daze, his mind reeling from the encounter with Raja. As he passed a street mirror, he froze in horror. There, reflected back at him, was a completely different person - his face now adorned with multiple piercings, each one glinting menacingly in the sunlight.Panic set in as Kathir frantically tried to wipe away the metal studs, but they remained stubbornly in place. His hands trembled as he approached the bathroom mirror, bracing himself for the worst.The image staring back was surreal yet undeniably real. Kathir's once pristine features were now marked by industrial-style piercings - a barbell through his nose, rings in his eyebrows, and even a hoop in his lower lip.

Kathir's shock turned to disbelief as he stepped inside his apartment. Everything seemed to have shifted, as if he'd entered a parallel universe. His wardrobe, once filled with crisp business attire, now held a rainbow of vibrant clothing - neon tank tops, tight jeans, and even a few skirts.In the center of the room, his tailored suit hung on a rack, but instead of its usual charcoal gray, it was a hot pink number with flashy gold buttons. Kathir's eyes widened as he picked it up, the fabric surprisingly soft against his skin.As he explored further, he discovered his dresser drawers had been raided, their contents replaced with an array of colorful accessories - chunky belts, studded chokers, and enough eyeliner to paint a small town. Even his bedding had transformed, now sporting a playful print of cartoon characters in various states of undress.

Overwhelmed, Kathir collapsed onto his newly reupholstered bed, the plush velvet enveloping him like a sensual embrace. He buried his face in the pillows, inhaling deeply, and was surprised to detect a faint scent of musk and leather.As he lay there, Kathir began to notice subtle changes within himself. His senses felt heightened, and his skin tingled with an unfamiliar heat. He became acutely aware of the piercings adorning his face, the metal cool against his flushed cheeks.Suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over him, leaving him breathless and hardening beneath his pants. Kathir's mind raced, trying to comprehend what was happening to his body and his desires. He reached down to adjust himself, his fingers brushing against the growing bulge, when a knock at the door shattered the intimate moment.

Kathir groaned in frustration, not wanting to be disturbed in his state of confusion and arousal. But the persistent knocking continued, growing louder and more insistent.With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly made his way to the door, adjusting his disheveled appearance as best he could. When he opened it, he was greeted by the same pierced and tattooed man from the subway, Raja, standing in the hallway with a mischievous grin.Well, well, looks like someone's embracing their inner rebel, Raja teased, his gaze roaming over Kathir's altered appearance. I must say, the makeover suits you. Though I think we're just getting started...Before Kathir could respond, Raja slipped past him into the apartment, his presence filling the space with an electric energy.

Kathir watched in amazement as Raja sauntered into his living room, his own outfit shifting before Kathir's eyes. The tight black jeans and band tee disappeared, replaced by a snug pink button-down shirt that hugged Raja's muscular frame.The shirt was a vibrant fuchsia hue, adorned with tiny white polka dots that seemed to dance across the fabric. It was a far cry from Raja's previous attire, yet somehow, he pulled it off with effortless charm.Raja caught Kathir's gaze and smirked, clearly enjoying the effect his new look had on the flustered young man. He sauntered closer, the scent of his cologne mingling with the heady aroma of Kathir's own arousal.So, what do you think? Raja asked, spinning around to show off the shirt from every angle. Like it?

Kathir swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he took in the sight of Raja's provocative display. The pink shirt accentuated the man's broad shoulders and chiseled chest, making Kathir's pulse race with a mix of excitement and trepidation.I... uh... it looks great on you, Kathir managed to stammer, his eyes darting between Raja's face and the tantalizing expanse of skin revealed by the shirt's open collar.Raja chuckled, the sound low and husky. Glad you approve, he purred, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. You know, I've always had a thing for pretty boys in pink. And you, my dear Kathir, are looking particularly delicious today.

Kathir's breath hitched as Raja's warm breath ghosted over his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel the heat radiating off the other man's body, mixing with his own feverish desire.I... I don't understand what's happening to me, Kathir admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. These changes, these feelings... they're so intense, so overwhelming.Raja's hand came up to cup Kathir's cheek, his thumb stroking gently over the metal stud in his lower lip. Maybe that's because you're finally embracing your true self, he suggested, his eyes gleaming with a knowing intensity. Let go of your inhibitions, Kathir. Allow yourself to explore these newfound cravings.

Kathir's resolve crumbled under Raja's tender touch and persuasive words. With a shaky nod, he surrendered to the intoxicating sensations coursing through his veins.I want to, he breathed, his voice thick with longing. I want to experience everything, to discover who I really am.Raja's smile was triumphant as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to Kathir's. Then let's start with a kiss, shall we?Without waiting for a response, Raja claimed Kathir's mouth in a searing, passionate embrace. His tongue delved past Kathir's parted lips, exploring the warm depths of his mouth with confident strokes. Kathir moaned softly, melting into the kiss as his body responded eagerly to the stimulation.

[louisupdates]

‘I feel lucky as it’s the right time to come play in India’

Renuka Vyahare

Louis Tomlinson featured in Bombay Today [11.3.2025]

TRANSCRIPT:

English singer-songwriter and former One Direction band member, Louis Tomlinson made his India debut at a music fest in Mumbai on Sunday. Louis brought an intimate energy to the music festival, captivating the crowd with his signature blend of Britpop and indie pop. Fan swayed and sang along to his numbers, Drag Me Down, Night Changes, and Saturday, to name a few. The 33 year-old singer from Doncaster, England, made a confession. “Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be in India as a young lad, and never did I think I’d be performing here. It’s mind-blowing, man. I can’t get my head around it. I love you,” he said. Ahead of his performance, we met with Louis and struck an exclusive conversation which revolved around India, his music, and more…

🎶.

This is your maiden performance in India. What are your thoughts like going into the show?

I always try and manage my own expectations. I don’t really know what to expect. This is my first time here. There’s a reason why I’m here, that’s for sure. I’ve felt the presence online from Indian fans, and it’s a place I’ve always wanted to come to. So, it feels like a real honour to be here. When I saw the number of people waiting outside the airport just for me to arrive, that’s always a lovely feeling. As soon as I kind of touched down, I had that confidence that I’ve got that support, and that was a nice feeling. 

Shawn Mendes wore the Indian cricket team jersey on Saturday. Do you follow the game back home? 

Cricket is very big in the UK. My great-granddad used to have an old cricket ball for a long time. As a young lad, I remember playing with it quite a lot. Beyond that, I don’t follow the game too much, to be honest. I respect the sport, for sure, but I’m not a massive cricket fan.

What do you think of India as a global music destination? Coldplay performed here, Ed Sheeran was here for a while. Various global artistes are now frequently performing in the country. 

It’s a surprise to me that we never came here with One Direction. I hear the band was big in India. It was a missed opportunity for us. Although, as you said, it is more common now with the likes of Ed and Coldplay coming here. I feel lucky because it’s the right time to play in India. I do think like all things in life, the music industry tends to be a bit rigid. As soon as you see Ed and Coldplay come over, then it’s brilliant for everyone else. It sets a precedent for how amazing the shows are in India and what is possible over here.

Right from The Beatles to now Coldplay and Ed Sheeran, English artistes have a strong connection with India. What was your perception of the country before landing here? 

When I was 16 or 17 years old, I never imagined that I would be in a band someday. Probably the thing that might have been furthest away, like a dream, was playing in a place like India, so far from home and with a completely different culture and food. That’s a luxury. That’s something I never thought I’d be in a position to do. So just to be here and take in the excitement is amazing. I’ve been fighting to come for the last five, six years because it’s such an exciting place to explore. You know, if I go back to England and tell anyone that I’ve been to India, I’ll watch their ears prick up. They’ll be interested because it’s just a really, really exciting place to visit. I feel very lucky to be able to play here.

You are in Bombay for the first time. Is this a brief visit or are you hoping to explore the city? 

I am just taking in as much as possible because this trip, given the nature of the festival, we’re in and out. I’m going to spend about 48 hours here and leave right after the show, so my time is limited. My mission is to absolutely nail the show and hopefully to come back and do my own tour here. And it’ll be at that time where I will probably have more time to explore, take in the culture and eat more food. Because I’ve realized how much of a Brit I sound when I say the only curry I’ve had so far is butter chicken. That’s pretty British, isn’t it? The food is definitely better here, even the butter chicken I had last night. 

You started off quite young as a singer. You’ve been a contestant, judge, band member and now solo artist. What have been your learnings?

I was always taught for a young age to trust my gut, and I think in an industry like this, you are constantly surrounded by different opinions, some are valid and some are not. At some point you have to trust yourself and trust your gut. 

You are known for your fashion and your music. As a trendsetter, what inspires you? What gets you going?

Musically, it’s lyrics. I think that’s my strongest suit as a writer. I really appreciate deep lyrics. I admire someone like Sam Fender. He has good conceptual lyrics. As far as fashion is concerned, I always dress down. And in recent years, it’s become trendier to dress down. So, the whole time, it’s suited me very well. 

You have acted a bit. Are you aware of Bollywood and the film culture here? 

I am aware of the film culture in India. I haven’t really watched a Bollywood film though. Maybe you could give me a recommendation. if someone from Bollywood is listening, I’m in!

What are you like when no-one’s watching? With social media so much of a celebrity’s life is out there. 

I’d like to think I’m not too different from what you see on camera. I always try to carry myself in an honest way. I suppose just by the nature of the job, behind the cameras, I’m a little bit more low-key. But yeah, I’d like to think that I’m pretty similar to how I am now. 

[srbachchan]

DAY 6142

Jalsa, Mumbai Dec 13, 2024 Fri 1:57 am

🪔 ,

December 13 .. birthday greetings to Ef RJ Divya Solgama 🎙️ .. and Ef Prakash Tailor from Toronto 🇨🇦 .. 🙏🏽❤️🚩 .. and my wishes and love

.. they clamour about in the sides of the work to be in the proximity of the talent , but when unable break the declared regions of demarcated barriers .. they wait in the patience of the evening for night to fall , and THEN ..

they ask me for views .. they tell me their destination from across the seas .. they bring accolades to entice .. but it cannot work , because the intent s not to know .. the intent is to sell ..

when I need the sell, I shall step up to them and confide the Fidential , in the terms of the financing of project 103 .. !!

A day short of the 100 ..

Continuing our commitment to bringing classic cinema back to the big screen, I am so happy that Film Heritage Foundation has joined hands with R.K. Films for "Raj Kapoor 100 - Celebrating the Centenary of the Greatest Showman" - a grand showcase of 10 milestone Raj Kapoor films in 40 cities and 135 cinemas across the country that will keep his legacy alive and give audiences all over India an opportunity to revisit the films of an artist who lived for cinema and whose films gave voice to the common man.

Even today Awara is a film that is etched in my mind. Talking about Rajji’s incredible showmanship, the way he envisioned the dream sequence in the film had never been seen before. You are amazed by his fantastical imagination that visualized the surreal setting, the ethereal Nargisji emerging through thick clouds of smoke, Rajji surrounded by demonic figures and burning fires – there is a powerful, mystical symbolism in the dream sequence, and that is my favourite.

Don't miss the opportunity to watch these Raj Kapoor classics in a cinema near you from December 13 - 15!! @shividungarpur @FHF_Official

so a query :

she be the daughter of the Son of the daughter of the 100 .. and the daughter be the wife of the son of the daughter of 100 ..

what shall she be to me ..

Love

Amitabh Bachchan

the DAY is not over yet .. yet some introspect for the greet ..

Birthday -Ef Divya Solgama Friday, 13 December .. greeting and wishes ..🙏

[amilovesworld]

Checkered Hearts

Summary: Y/n, a young journalist chasing her dream in the world of sports, never imagined her path would lead her to F1—or to Carlos Sainz Jr., a driver whose charm and sarcasm quickly blur the lines between professional rivalry and something more. As they clash, argue, and share unexpected moments, Y/n's life is turned upside down, forcing her to make choices she never saw coming. But in a world of speed, fame, and pressure, can she hold on to everything she’s worked for, or will she find herself racing toward something—someone—she never planned for?

Genre: Fluff/ Enemies to lovers/ Slow burn

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr. x Indian reader

Warnings: looonnng Chapters, long series, slow burn, eventual smut.

Chapter2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6|

Chapter 1

Y/n clutched her coat tightly as the crisp London wind nipped at her skin. The streets buzzed with their usual city chaos, and the heavy weight of her tote bag dug into her shoulder. Her phone buzzed in her pocket for what felt like the tenth time in the past five minutes. She knew it was her date, probably wondering where she was, but she was already running late—answering wouldn’t change much.

Life had been a whirlwind for her ever since she decided to pursue her dream. Three years ago, she’d taken a leap of faith, leaving the comfort of her corporate job in Mumbai to study journalism at London University. It wasn’t easy—there were moments she questioned herself, moments when she missed her family and the familiarity of Landour, her. But every time she stepped into a newsroom or picked up her notepad at a press conference, she felt alive.

She had chosen sports journalism because it connected two of her great loves—writing and the adrenaline of competition. Cricket, though, was her true passion. The thought of standing on the sidelines at Lord's, reporting on a thrilling match, sent a shiver of excitement through her. Her internship at the major news channel, GC network, was on the verge of turning permanent, and she was anxiously waiting to find out which sport she’d be covering. She prayed it would be cricket. But tonight, she was forcing herself to take a break from work and go on a date—a rare attempt to balance her personal life.

Her boots clicked loudly against the pavement as she hurried toward the subway station. She glanced at her watch. "Damn it, I’m late," she muttered under her breath. As if being late wasn’t bad enough, her caffeine-deprived mind screamed for a pick-me-up. The small coffee shop on the corner seemed to beckon her, and she dashed inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee calming her nerves for a moment.

“ Iced Americano, with 4 shots of espresso, please,” she said, tapping her card to pay and impatiently drumming her fingers on the counter. As soon as the cup landed in her hand, she turned on her heel, ready to run for the subway. But in her rush, she crashed into a solid figure, sending the icy contents of her cup splashing all over her cream sweater.

“Are you kidding me?!” Y/n exclaimed, the words bursting out before she could stop herself. She stared down at the growing brown stain, horrified.

“Oh, crap, I’m so sorry!” a man’s voice said. She looked up to see a tall guy with messy dark hair and a sheepish expression. His hands were raised defensively, though his eyes betrayed a mix of guilt and exasperation.

“Sorry?” she repeated, her voice sharp. “You should be sorry! Look at this! My sweater is ruined!”

“Hey, I said I’m sorry,” he replied, his tone edging toward impatience. “It was an accident. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“An accident?” she shot back, grabbing a tissue from her bag and dabbing futilely at the stain. “You weren’t even looking where you were going! Who just stands in the middle of the doorway like a human roadblock?”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who came barreling out of nowhere like a bat out of hell,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Maybe try looking where you’re going next time.”

“Unbelievable,” Y/n muttered, glaring at him. Her cheeks flushed, partly from anger and partly from embarrassment. “I don’t have time for this. Some of us actually have places to be.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for delaying Her Majesty’s royal sprint through London,” he said with mock formality, his brow arched. “Maybe if you weren’t in such a hurry, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe if you had the common sense to step aside and not block the entire exit, this wouldn’t have happened!” she snapped.

The man let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “You know what? Forget it. Clearly, you’re the type who loves making everything someone else’s fault.”

“Fine by me,” Y/n said, throwing the soggy tissue back into her bag with a dramatic flair. “Enjoy standing in doorways and ruining people’s evenings. Sounds like your thing.”

“Will do,” he shot back. “Enjoy running people over and acting like a victim. Sounds like your thing.”

She huffed loudly, brushing past him and storming out the door, her boots stomping against the pavement.

Her sweater was ruined. Her mood was obliterated. And now, on top of being late, she had just had a public spat with a stranger in a coffee shop. What an utterly spectacular evening.

As she stomped toward the subway, her mind raced. Her sweater was ruined, her hair was a mess from all the running, and her mood was officially in shambles. How was she supposed to show up to her date like this? Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling her to stay focused on her career and forget about romance for now.

By the time she reached the subway station, she took a deep breath and let herself laugh, albeit bitterly, at the absurdity of it all. Life wasn’t perfect, and neither was she, but she’d learned to embrace the chaos. For now, though, she’d have to improvise. Maybe her date wouldn’t mind a coffee-stained sweater—or maybe this was a story she’d laugh about later. After all, if nothing else, it made for great material for the budding journalist in her.

_________________________________________________

The newsroom buzzed with energy as Y/n sat at her desk, anxiously refreshing her inbox. Today was the day. Her boss had promised to assign her sport this morning, and while she tried to act composed, her bouncing knee betrayed her nerves. Cricket. She whispered the word in her head like a prayer. Cricket was her world, her comfort zone, her dream. She had grown up watching matches in Landour, huddled around an old television with her family. Reporting on cricket felt like the natural progression of her passion.

The email notification popped up, and her heart leaped into her throat. She clicked it open, scanning the words hurriedly until her eyes locked on the name of her assignment: Formula 1.

Her mind went blank for a second before a flurry of thoughts stormed in. F1? Not cricket? I don’t know anything about F1! Who even are the players—drivers—whatever they're called?

Without hesitation, she stood up and walked straight to her boss’s office. As soon as she entered, she said, “I don’t know anything about Formula 1. How can you assign me that?” Her voice trembled with hesitation. She had only brushed past the world of motorsport once when she assisted a senior journalist at an F2 event. Even then, she’d barely understood the mechanics of the cars or why the crowd had cheered so wildly when the drivers zoomed past the finish line.

“I know it’s not what you expected, Y/n,” her editor said, his tone both firm and encouraging. “But I’ve seen your work. You’re adaptable. You’ve got this.”

As much as Y/n wanted to argue, she couldn’t. She knew what an opportunity this was, even if it wasn’t the one she wanted. Instead, she left the office and returned to her desk. The weight of her insecurities pressed down on her chest. She remembered fumbling with the jargon and feeling like an outsider during that F2 race. F1 is way bigger than F2. How will I manage?

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from her mom back home. “Beta, don’t worry. Whatever it is, you’ll do great.” It was as if her mother had sensed her turmoil from halfway across the world. Y/n sighed. She had spent the past three years proving to herself that she could thrive in uncomfortable situations. She knew how to be a professional. F1 might be unfamiliar, but she could learn.

Over the next month, she dove into the world of F1 headfirst. She read books, watched documentaries, and spent countless hours analyzing races. By the time her first race weekend arrived, she felt prepared—nervous, yes, but prepared.

________________________

Y/n stood nervously at the media spot in the F1 paddock, her fingers tapping the edge of her notebook. It had been a whirlwind month since her assignment to Formula 1—an unexpected turn in her career. Cricket had been her heart’s desire, but instead, she was here, thrown into the fast-paced, high-octane world of motorsport.

She had spent the past weeks immersing herself in F1, learning its intricacies, history, and the names of the drivers. But no amount of research could quell the nagging insecurity in the back of her mind. What if I’m not good enough? What if everyone realizes I don’t belong here?

Her mind flickered to her one experience in the motorsport world—a brief stint assisting her senior at an F2 race. It had been exciting but overwhelming. Still, Y/n prided herself on her professionalism and adaptability. I’ll figure this out, she had told herself.

Today, though, her nerves were at an all-time high. This wasn’t just any race weekend—it was her first post-race interview. She had rehearsed her questions and studied the drivers’ profiles. But no amount of preparation could have readied her for what was about to happen.

The announcement came through her headset. “Carlos Sainz, Williams driver, approaching for his interview.”

The name barely registered. She was too focused on keeping her composure. But when Carlos walked into the room, still in his race suit, helmet tucked under his arm, and a confident air about him, her breath caught in her throat. As he set his helmet down and ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, Y/n’s jaw nearly dropped.

It was him.

The man who had ruined her coffee, her sweater, and her date night just weeks ago. The man who had argued with her in the middle of a café like he had all the time in the world.

Her heart pounded as the realization sank in. The man who ruined my date night is none other than Carlos Sainz? My first-ever F1 interview?

She felt her cheeks heat up, but she forced herself to maintain her professional demeanor. This was not the time to dwell on personal grudges. Yet, her mind raced. How did I miss seeing his picture?

Carlos stopped in his tracks when he saw her, his eyes widening in recognition. For a brief moment, he looked as surprised as she felt. But then, to her utter annoyance, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying that unmistakable charm she now associated with his smug face. He stood opposite her, leaning back with an air of ease. If he was shaken by their past encounter, he certainly didn’t show it.

Y/n swallowed hard, gripping her notepad tightly. “Good evening, Carlos,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “Let’s start with your performance today.”

The interview began, and Carlos answered her questions with practiced eloquence. “The car felt great today,” he said. “The team did an amazing job, and I think we’re finding a strong rhythm going into the next few races.”

Y/n nodded, scribbling notes as she asked her follow-up. “You mentioned struggling with tire degradation in the last race. Did you face similar challenges today?”

Carlos smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Ah, you’ve done your homework. No, today the balance felt much better. We’ve been working hard on setup adjustments, and it’s starting to pay off.”

Her professionalism didn’t waver, even as she caught the teasing undertone in his voice. “And how do you see yourself faring against your teammate this season?” she pressed.

He chuckled. “Competitive as always. But, at the end of the day, we’re pushing each other to improve. That’s what matters.”

As the interview wrapped up, Carlos extended his hand. “You’re good at this,” he said, his voice lower, almost conspiratorial. “A lot better than dodging coffee cups.”

Y/n stared at him, momentarily speechless. Was he teasing her? Trying to make amends? She couldn’t tell. But she wasn’t about to let him have the last word.

“Thanks,” she replied coolly, shaking his hand firmly. “And you’re a lot better at driving than you are at apologizing.”

His smirk widened, but he didn’t say another word. He just turned and walked away.

As Y/n watched him leave, she couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. Her first F1 interview had turned out to be more eventful than she’d imagined. But one thing was clear—she wasn’t going to let Carlos Sainz, or anyone else, rattle her. If Formula 1 was her new world, she was going to own it.

____________________________

After her first interview with Carlos, Y/n had gone straight to her girl gang to vent. Her friends were in stitches over the story.

“Y/n, you have to see this as a rom-com plot,” Angelina, one of Y/n’s closest friends, declared over their weekly video call. Her voice crackled slightly, but the mischief in her tone came through loud and clear. “The coffee spill, the random stranger turning out to be a famous F1 driver, and now you have to work with him? This is straight out of a Netflix movie!”

“More like a horror movie,” Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes. She adjusted her position on the couch, the late London evening adding to her exasperation. “You guys don’t understand. He’s insufferable. He’s fake, cocky, and that stupid smirk? I want to wipe it off his face every time I see it.”

“So you see his face a lot?” teased Meera, her other friend, snickering from the other side of the call.

Y/n shot a glare at the screen. “He’s literally a driver. I have to see his face. It’s part of my job.”

“Oh, please,” Angelina chimed in. “"Enemies to lovers" is the best trope, Y/n. And think about it: all the tension, the bickering, the undeniable chemistry—”

“Stop right there,” Y/n interrupted, holding up her hand dramatically. “There is no chemistry. None. Zero. Negative, even. And FYI, he’s dating someone. Not that it matters because even if he wasn’t, I’d rather stab myself with a blunt pencil than entertain the idea of Carlos Sainz.”

Her friends erupted into laughter, while Y/n groaned, covering her face with a pillow.

“Fine, fine,” Meera said, finally calming down. “But you have to admit, it’s a little hilarious. He ruined your date night, and now you’re stuck interviewing him every other weekend. Poetic justice, no?”

“Justice? More like torture,” Y/n mumbled.

Angelina leaned closer to the camera, her grin mischievous. “Torture or fate? Come on, Y/n, this is the universe setting you up for some character development. Or at least some good gossip for us.”

Y/n groaned again, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Why are my friends like this? Can’t you guys just agree with me for once?”

“We agree,” Meera said with mock sincerity, trying to stifle her giggles. “Carlos Sainz is an arrogant jerk who totally ruined your life. Happy?”

“Very,” Y/n deadpanned, peeking out from behind the pillow.

“Good,” Meera continued. “But we also agree that we’re living for this story. So don’t forget to take notes. We want updates on every glare, every sarcastic comment, and every dramatic moment. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep a journal just for you guys,” Y/n replied sarcastically. “It’ll be titled: ‘How to Survive Working with the World’s Most Annoying Human.’”

“See? That’s the spirit!” Angelina cheered, raising an imaginary glass. “To Y/n’s survival!”

“And to Carlos not driving her completely insane,” Meera added, lifting her water bottle in a toast.

“Too late for that,” Y/n muttered, shaking her head but smiling despite herself. “You two are the worst.”

“We’re the best,” Meera corrected with a wink. “And you love us for it.”

“Debatable,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Now, can we please talk about something else before I throw my laptop out the window?”

“Fine, fine,” Angelina said, pretending to pout. “But only if you promise to tell us the next time Carlos smirks at you.”

“Deal,” Y/n said, smirking herself. “But only because I know how much you love living vicariously through my suffering.”

“Guilty as charged,” Meera admitted with a laugh.

The three friends dissolved into a new round of laughter, the tension in Y/n’s chest easing just a little as the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

___________________________

Over the next few months, Y/n settled into her new role with an unexpected ease. She mastered the art of asking the right questions, balancing professionalism with curiosity, and finding her way through the frenzy of the Formula 1 paddock. As she grew more comfortable in the high-pressure environment, she gained the respect of her colleagues—and even some of the drivers.

Charles, Max, Alex, and Lando became her go-to people. They were lighthearted and funny, always up for a laugh, and genuinely welcoming. It was a refreshing change from the constant pressure and intensity of her job. But Lando, with his mischievous streak, quickly became her favorite source of trouble.

One afternoon, as Y/n watched a clip from an interview she'd done with Lando, he leaned in, grinning.

“Oh, Carlos is going to love this one,” Lando teased, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/n shot him a pointed look. “You better not show him, Lando.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he had just won a small victory. “You know, you’re much more fun to mess with than Carlos ever was.”

“Don’t even start,” Y/n muttered, trying to suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Lando always knew how to get under her skin.

Although she’d warmed to the other drivers, her interactions with Carlos remained strained. Their professional relationship was just that—professional, perhaps even polite on camera. But off camera, it was a different story.

One day, after yet another post-race interview, Y/n was seething. Carlos had made yet another sarcastic remark about her "impressive knowledge of Formula 1."

"Do you ever take anything seriously?" Y/n snapped, her tone sharp.

Carlos, with that all-too-familiar smirk, didn’t skip a beat. "Only the important things," he said, his eyes glinting. "And you’re a professional, aren’t you? Isn’t that why you’re here?"

Her fingers curled into fists, her patience thinning. "You’re lucky there are cameras everywhere," she muttered, barely audible, before she stormed off.

It had become a familiar pattern—small, sharp exchanges when no one else was watching. She hated how easily he could rattle her, how his words seemed to always hit their mark.

What made matters worse was how effortlessly Carlos charmed everyone else. He was kind, engaging, and genuinely connected with the fans. She couldn’t help but notice how her friends in the paddock—Max, Alex, and even Lando—always spoke highly of him.

One evening, as Y/n found herself seated across from Charles at a quiet dinner, she finally let it out.

"Maybe I'm the problem," she said, toying with the fries on her plate.

Charles paused mid-bite, his eyes narrowing. "You? The problem? No way."

"I mean it," she said, sighing. "Everyone else gets along with him. I can’t seem to let go of this stupid grudge."

Charles snorted, shaking his head. "Y/n, you? Let something go? Never."

"Shut up," she shot back, throwing a fry at him.

But as much as she hated to admit it, Charles wasn’t entirely wrong. There was something about Carlos’s knack for turning their arguments into some kind of sport. He seemed to take pleasure in it, and the more it frustrated her, the more it seemed to amuse him.

The next time they crossed paths, Carlos couldn’t resist making another dig, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You look… unbothered," he remarked, eyeing her with that infuriating grin.

Y/n shot him a look that could’ve frozen the air between them. "I’m just amazed," she said, her tone sweet but sharp, "at how you manage to stay so calm, considering you’re always the one causing trouble."

Carlos chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. "It’s a gift," he said, the mischievous gleam never leaving his eyes. "You should try it sometime."

Her patience was wearing thin, but she bit back the retort. It was so easy for him to push her buttons, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.

"Maybe one day," she said coolly, "I’ll learn how to be as charming as you. Though I’m not sure the world is ready for that."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his grin only widening. "Oh, I’m sure it would be a… world-changing experience."

Despite herself, Y/n couldn’t suppress the small chuckle that escaped her lips. As much as she tried to keep the tension between them, there was something about their banter—something she hated yet couldn’t quite resist.

[ashsimpsalot]

Big strong man, big strong feelings

Kid x reader

Tw: self self harming behaviours (no cutting), I wrote him with the headcannon that our man has bipolar.

Cheeni universe, kinda a sequal to home to home

Ik I promised filthy fluff but... Yo girl is a deceiver

You smiled as you leaned against the door frame. Fuck you've missed this. This domiscated, more rare version of Kid. When he has a spatula in his hand, an apron tied around his waist, basically nude aside from the apron you gifted him when you two moved to Mumbai.

"I can feel you staring," Kid mumbled as he continued making breakfast. You could just picture the smirk he has on. Gentle music from the 80s could be heard from the smart TV, as the living room isn't that far from the kitchen.

Kid turned the fire off and turned around to look at you, walking towards you with a mock frown. "it was supposed to be breakfast in bed," he scolded jokingly. You shrugged and wrapped your arms on the back of his neck, gently pulled him down and kissed him. Granting the promise you made when you bought him the 'kiss the cook' apron.

He pressed his forehead against yours when you pulled away with a relief sigh. "what's all this about?" you asked quietly, trying to not break the calm ambience. Quiet after the storm. Just yesterday he was sobbing into your chest until he falls asleep. Apologising for the bullshit he pulled.

Kid slowly pulled away and held both of your hands. Staring at your intertwined fingers. "just... Glad to be home," he answered finally lifted his head to look at you. You cupped his cheek and your heart almost break when you see him leaned into your palm. He's had an episode, you two fought it out, not the first time he ran off but it's the first that he stays gone for long. "I'm sorry," he said again, as if the countless amount of times he said yesterday wasn't enough.

You've forgiven him, he doesn't even need to apologise and you'd still forgive him. Your heart is truly his, carved with his name tied to his soul. It jumped out of your chest and tried to chase him the night he stormed off after the fight. The gaping empty hole only grew when he stopped answering your texts and basically fell off the surface of the earth for months.

'I swear, Kid, I won't search for you if you step out of that door.' you fucking lied, of course you did. He's the central pillar of your very soul. You'd forgive him, always.

"I.. I didn't mean what I said. I need you, I need you," he mumbled, his thumb playing with the promise ring placed on your finger. The presence of the ring reminds him that you still love him.

You nod. "I know," you kissed his hand, you'd do anything to comfort this man. Anything.

"it doesn't matter, you're home," you replied, not really sure who you were trying to soothe. Both of you need to be reminded that he's home. Now.

Kid nodded. "I'm home," he repeated. Offering you a small smile and a kiss on your forehead before walking towards the counter and picked up the tray of food he's prepared. "let's get that breakfast in bed, hm?"

With Kid you've learned to enjoy these moments. He's the furthest thing from stable. You knew that. You knew how it'd be to love a broken man.

So you bury it in your mind. When he walks with you to the cafe, his fingers intertwined with yours. He'd make a point to look up at the pretty colours of the sky when the sun rises. It's like rediscovering the world. You made a point to stand and watch him prepare the coffee machine as you wait for customers. Kid would look up at you when he's done and give you a small kiss.

Fuck you've missed him. You know you did but you didn't know you've missed him this much.

You know the stable wave won't stay long. Kid is a big strong man and he has big strong feelings that he can't understand. Kid is quite the handyman, he could fix anything, everything, everything except himself.

You realise it. It happens gradually. He starts waking up a little later than usual. On the way to your shared cafe he doesn't lift his head to look at the sky anymore. He just stares upfront. Holding your hand a little looser.

"you don't have to go today, baby," you said, playing with his curls as he's laid on his chest, bare but a boxer on. You're all dressed up and ready to get to work and he's having the darnest time to even open up his eyes. He looks at you, not a word uttered, face still planted to the pillow. You smiled sadly, you know that empty look.

"take a day off, okay? I could handle the cafe just fine," you promised, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on his forehead before standing up to leave.

The whole day all you could think about was him. At lunch time you gave him a call. It took a few times, when he picks up he lets out a small grunt of 'hello'.

"have you eaten?" you asked, this is good, at least he has the energy to answer his phone. Kid let out a 'mm' and you smiled. "I'll bring back dinner later, okay?" and you're met with the answer identical to before.

Hours later when you stepped into your shared apartment it felt a little too quiet. "Kid?" you asked as you slowly opened the bedroom door, expecting him to lay on the bed bit he isn't there. You searched the house and it's confirmed that he isn't home. "shit, fuck" you mumbled and started dialling up his number. Only to be met with no answer. You tried about 4 more times.

"hey," finally he picked up. "Thank God, where are you, bandhar?"

The other side of the line went quiet and eventually a sigh was felt out. "open the door," he answered. You walked towards the front door and unlocked it, only to be met with bruised and bleeding Kid. He limped towards the couch and threw himself on it.

"Kid-"

"I could do what I want," he immediately cuts you off. He's staring at you, expecting a reaction.

You shook your head. "no, I'm not gonna do this." you meant it another way but he understood it the other

"you're leaving?" he asked, and that made your ears rang. No, you can't give him what he wants. You're trying to keep calm. "no Kid, I always stay,"

"and I leave. Why not find someone better?" Kid asked looking at a bruise on his arm and start pressing on it. You want to stop him but you know he'd try to use it to jab you. You need to remain calm.

"Kid-"

"I'm a burden hm?" he's just echoing his own insecurities. "everyone have their ups and lows" you tried to reason. Kid let out a chuckle. "hm but mine is too high and too low. You'll crash with me one day," he said.

You're tired. Fuck you're tired. "you keep pushing me away, you want me gone?"

For a split second you could see his mask broke. You know him too well. He went out to the ring, wanting the opponent to beat the shit out of him so he can feel something. He's numb. You can see it in his eyes and for a second what you said spark alarms in his mind. You're onto him and he knows. He slips the mask back on.

"you should." Kid replied as if it's final.

"I'm not giving you what you want Kid." you replied as final as his statement. You know this tactic. He used to do this when you both were 17. At first it drove you mad but you knew it's his way to hurt himself. He wants you to yell at him, berate him. Punish him. Hate him like he hates himself.

You walked closed towards him, eyes shifted towards the poor bruised arm that he's applying too much pressure on. You took his wrist. Trying to gently pry his thumb away from the bruise. "you promised to let me love you," you whispered. Hinting at the night you two had on the roof, you just started dating, he's forced you to accept the scholarship and leave him for a better life.

You chose him, the small apartment you two now have and the cafe you two own.

"remember? You promised," your sweet voice echoes in his head. He let you pulled his wrist away, he hung his head low, staring at the carpet. He felt the kiss you planted in his palm and a wave of shame hits him as a form of shiver colonising his whole body.

"I know you, don't pull this on me," you replied, standing between his spread legs. He pressed his forehead onto your lower obdement and wrapped his arms around your waist. You rubbed his back. "Just you, you remember that night, hm?"

Kid's breathing was uneven. He's about to start sobbing and you know. His depressive episodes could look ugly, you're prepared.

"it's unfair to you," he mumbled, looking up at you, he leaned his back against the couch, pulling you onto him, pressing his cheek against your chest, looking up at you. "it's not fair," he repeated.

You shook your head and kissed his forehead. "I love you," you whispered, Kid closed his eyes to soak it in. You moved to place a sma kiss on his nose. "you hear me? I love you," you added. Moving to kiss his lips twice. "you make me happy. You just have issues but so do I. We had this conversation before baby,"

"we were 17, that was years go," Kid finally answered, you used your thumb to caress his chin. "we could be a thousand and I still meant what I said, just you," you made sure to make him look into your eyes. He needs to see you're telling the truth.

He nods. "just us"he drew circles on your back as you've found a comfortable place in his lap. His kisses taste like blood but you don't mind.

"I.. Want to get better," he admitted.

You kissed his cheek. "we'll find a way."

Kid nodded. He had to say it, he's scared that you didn't know, that you thought he meant it. He won't blame you if you do, he's pushed you away so many times.

"I don't want you gone. I want us,"

You smiled., nodded and kissed him. "of course I know that, silly."

[nidhi-writes]

Prithviraj in Mumbai Police is my Roman Empire!!!

How was this man able to act in any role and convenience us? And how did I miss watching this movie for so long?!!

Also, I have to appreciate him for selecting the script to act in such a role back when there was little to no acceptance. He surely deserves everything after what he went through in his career. 💕❤️❤️❤️

PS: Now I get how he would have nailed if Deva and Varadha made as a pair in Salaar 😉😉

[evanesceki]

look at me go, 재미 좀 볼 (new)

it feels so weird to be writing on this account again, but here I am!!

"A strange phenomenon was once again spotted around the globe on June 7th, 2024. Places like Mumbai, India; Berlin, Germany; Jakarta, Indonesia; and Washington D.C, US. Many people suspect an alien invasion. The last event occurred a year ago to the date, on June 7th, 2023. Governments around the world still have not yet made a statement about the reappearance of these wormhole-like ripples around the globe. Please stay safe and watch out."

"Humans are so interesting, their theories never fail to amaze me," Hyeon exclaims while taking a seat on the couch next to Yuxi. "Seriously? Their little theories just make us sound malevolent." Isa scoffs whilst stuffing her face with these "Cheez-Its". "Yet you're over here scuffing down their creation.." It takes a moment for Isa to register Yuxi's snarky comment, "Hey! So what if I am?!" "Nothing.. it's just a bit hypocritical, don't ya think?" Isa rolls her eyes before plopping down on the couch, squeezing right next to Hyeon and Yuxi.

"If you all are done 'discussing' then go to the store and pick up some groceries." Livi walks in front of the TV, earning loud complaints from the 3 girls sitting on the couch. "Why don't you go Livi.." Hyeon asks, "Because I went last time, and it wouldn't be fair for me to go again, would it now?" the trio gulp, a little nervous from Livi's scary demeanor. "Alright, alright! I'll go, the more I stay near these two the dumber I get.." Isa stated before running out the door.

Crap. I forgot my wallet. Oh yeah, I can just teleport back and grab it before anyone notices. Isa sighs, thankful that she has her powers. Within a second, she swiftly retrieves her wallet and teleports back to the street she was on. However, unbeknownst to her, two girls were witnessing the entire ordeal.

Isa turns around, making eye contact with two girls her age.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?! YOU'RE THE ALIEN HERE!?!?!?" One of the girls exclaims while the other continues to scream. "BECAUSE YOU WERE NOT MEANT TO SEE THAT." Although it hardly makes sense why Isa would be screaming, the three girls end up calming down and sit down on the swings that were in the park. "So, you're telling me that you're a 'Supernova'?" Salma confirmed, "yeah, basically." Isa replies before taking a deep sigh. "Man, no one was supposed to know..." "It's okay, we wont tell anyone." Yin comforts Isa, feeling sympathy for the, well, alien.

"So like do you, like, speak alien?" Salma asks curiously.

"What......?"

"Of course she doesn't Salma, don't be a fucking donce," Yin replies, scoffing. "Shut up? It was a valid fucking question, cause how would English be her native language?" Defending herself, Salma continues to make wild claims. "Well, I don't speaking 'alien'. However, there is a planet near us where they call themselves 'Hypernova', I've heard stories of them having their own distinct language. Although, their race got wiped out by a radioactive meteorite. It was horrible, I remember that day so clear. Let me see... it was around 5 years ago, which for you all would be 2,000 years ago." Yin frowns, how sad. "Wait, you're 2,000+ years old??!?!" Salma exclaims, jaw on the FLOOR. "SALMA? THATS SO DISRESPECTFUL SHE WAS JUST TELLING US ABOUT HOW THIS PLANET FUCKING DIED BRO.." Salma apologizes before Yin could lecture her more. Isa laughs, maybe these humans weren't so bad after all..

isa's notes: helloooooo omg!! it has been SO LONG since my last book/writing-related post! I hope everyone is well, and I hope you all enjoy the new version of "supernova"!!! I miss all these wonderful people SO SO much<3333

taglist: @chweverni , @hyunhanie , @bambisnc , @dalliesque , @miujangs !!!

[chaniiverse]

any good chanhee fics that you recommend? there isnt a lot of new biased peopel

Oh my. I love this ask so much! As a channie girlie there really is so less fics of my man 😭. It physically hurts but I re-read so manyyyy of the ones which are out there.

Simple gifts: by @sungbeam

This is like the first ever fluff (?) I read of Chanhee which stuck to me. I literally went to Beam’s DMs crying to her about this fic because I just love this so much 😭. I did not stop thinking about this fic for WEEKS especially the line “I am lonely but not when you’re here” it’s just so Chanhee coded!

That’s him, that’s just who he is: by @from-izzy

The first ever fic Izz wrote and that also for ME! Yes people, it’s for me 🥺🫶🏻. When I was reading this I literally started balling my eyes out because of how sad it was. I even sent a pic of me crying too Izz 😭💀. It’s not everyday you’d find a fic about the struggles my man went through and Izz literally depicted it all so well :)

The warmest winter: by @from-izzy

The roller coasters of ride izz went through when riding this fic was so 😭🥲. She really gave it her all when writing this sweet thing and she did not disappoint us Chanhee lovers because she ate AND served 💪. Tbh this fic is just so pure 🥺 the way chani gets jealous of Juyo (I love jealous men and I kid you not I am a possessive chani believer) made me want to bang my head against the wall SHSHSHSHSHS

Redemption of love: by @winterchimez

You guys don’t know how much I love this series 😔. I have never watched any musicals (NOT MY FAULT NOTHING LIKE THAT IS IN MUMBAI OKAY??) but I genuinely saw this one clip (it was in the first chapter of this fic) of the chandelier falling and oh my the way I was like “I NEED TO WATCH THIS MUSICAL!?” But not only do I love this fic because it’s Chanhee but also because ik how much this means to Als 🥺🫶🏻.

Even if the world caves,: by @kimsohn

Yall shru wrote this fic for me and me only and I will die while holding this fic close to my heart because it means a lot to me and I love this very much just the way I love my shru. The way I went through so many different emotions while reading this fic 😭. Like omg I get enemies2lovers AND a cameo of Vernon?? It’s a good day to die yeah? You guys have to read this fic written by shru ASAP!

# ur such an emo!: by @cloverdaisies

I will never shut up about the fic written by clo because they’re just so magical and makes me want Chanhee more than ever. Tbh this was such a surprise for me when clo said she wrote a fic for me 🥺. I already knew that she was busy with her work and all and then she just goes “Sana I wrote a Chanhee fic for your birthday.” Out of nowhere and me just sitting there balling my eyes out because 🥺🫶🏻. And then again we love enemies2lovers in this household especially when it comes to Chanhee so yes. We love this fic dearly.

Black hearts: by @cloverdaisies

The way clo depicted all the prompts given by me and @winterchimez in this fic has me on chokehold ngl 😭. I went to sleep after talking with ally and clo and then when I woke up BOOM BAM POW Clo had posted it already. I lowkey screamed when I saw this and the way it literally has all of our biases in this fic 🥺😭. Side note: I miss our lil trio yall 😭🥺. Late night chats again when 😭.

Valentines win: by @strayed-quokka

Omg my lenlen 🥺🫶🏻. She dedicated this one for me. Ha! *flips hair* be jealous 😍🫵. I was smiling like crazy when reading this fic of hers tho, the way Chanhee was like “no I am going to win this for you. I am not gonna back out” made my heart melt 🥺. Because we all know Chanhee is not a sporty type of person so him trying to win this just made me want to bash my head against the wall 😭🤧. And the fact that it was a POKÉMON SOFT TOY MADE IT MORE BETTER SISJDJDJ.

Chanhee with a girly gf: by @astrae4

If I don’t mention this one it’d be a serious crime and I do not want to go in jail 😭😢. This is the first ever work i read of Gill (that’s a lie. The first one was the channie smau) and this literally made me giggle so much 😭🥺. It has been a while since I read this again but we love this fic a lot 💪

Lipstick stains: by @slytherinshua

This very fic of Chanhee made me fall in love with him even more. Like you don’t get this fic the way I do. It literally took me out of my writers slump 😭🤧. It literally made me want to read other fics again because it reminded me that there are still good writers out there who write for my man 😭🥺. And u get husband channie. What else do you want? Be fr 😭

Something blue: by @deobienthusiast

I was beta reading this fic for K and I divorced Sangyeon and married Chanhee instead. End of the story. I was literally balling my eyes out because no way in hell would I treat my best friend (why be a best friend when you can be my best boyfriend tho?) Chanhee the way the reader did 🙄. Like?? But I love how Chanhee still showed up to her wedding (wanna make it our wedding instead?) despite everything the reader said to him 😭.

I think if you guys want a part two of this plz let me know 🥺🫶🏻. I would have added some smuts but idk if you’re a minor or an adult so 😭. In the part two (if you guys ever want it) imma add the ones I read on Wattpad too! (There’s only two but whatever)

Here’s some Chanhee for a good day ahead!

[hobiebrownismygod]

Pavitr Prabhakar x Indian!Reader (Platonic)

Got sick of there being no Indian!Reader fics with my favorite ATSV characters so I wrote one :D

Even though it says "Indian!Reader", anyone can read it and not really pay attention to the race of the reader. It doesn't really matter and since the fic doesn't have a plot, it won't disturb your understanding of the fic!

Summary: Meeting Pav and getting to explore Mumbattan with him! Reader feeling a little disconnected from their culture, but having a blast after visiting Mumbattan with him.

TW: Reader is established to be a spider person, Fluff, Not much of a plot just wanted to write something cute for my desi readers!

____________________________________________________________

You were walking through Spider Society HQ, a bit tired from the sleepless night you had and hoping to find some kind of distraction from the responsibilities of being a Spiderperson. Not really paying attention to your surroundings, you began to drift into a bit of a trance, walking along the path aimlessly, nodding at the Peters and Mjs who waved at you but lost in your thoughts as you tried to process the events of last night. Fighting your universe's version of the Sinister Six, coming back home with cuts and bruises, spending the night trying to clean them and cover them so your friends and family wouldn't see your wounds the next morning, being a Spider-person was difficult to handle. You just wished you had a distraction, something you could do, somewhere you could go to calm down and destimulate. HQ was nice and all, but it was so formal, what with the training and conditioning centers, and the boring food court.

"Arre, watch out!"

You felt a body collide with yours, sending the two of you stumbling backwards and crashing into a wall. "What the-"

"Oh no, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

You looked over woozily to see the boy who'd crashed into you, wearing his decorated Spider-suit, the colors practically blinding you as he approached and tried to give you a hand to help you get up. You took his hand, trying to shake the dizzy feeling from your head before you spoke. "Its alright. How did you even-"

The boy eagerly spoke before you could finish, his tone full of excitement. "Its my first day here, and I was trying take a self-tour of the HQ, but I think I was going too fast" He said, his voice and expression seeming slightly sheepish. "I'm Spider-man! And you?"

"Spider-woman. But you don't have to call me that. My name's Y/N."

"I'm Pavitr! But most call me Pav."

"Hey Pav. Where're you from?"

"Earth-50101! At least thats what Miguel told me. For us, its just Mumbattan!"

"Mumbattan?" The place sounded oddly familiar, as if you'd heard of it before. Wait..."Do you mean Mumbai?", you asked, a smile spreading across your face.

"I don't know what Mumbai is, but sure!"

"Oh man, its been forever since I've been to Mumbai! Its been forever since I've been to...well...India in general."

"Oh?" He sounded like he was thinking something over. "Well, would you like to see your Mumbai? Or a version of it at least?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, a little confused.

"Do you want to come to Mumbattan? You have a watch, right?" Pav looked down at your wrist excitedly, seeming happy to have made a friend at the Spider Society so quickly.

"Mumbattan huh? Well...uh..." You had to mull it over. I don't have anything else to do...besides I haven't had pani puri in so long...You should to yourself, the memories of street food in India flooding back to you. Oh how you missed the place. "I'm down."

About an hour later, you and Pav were swinging through Mumbattan, with him showing off the whole city to you, pointing out the different attractions, the nicer temples, and even his own favorites, like small shops and stalls which he said he often bought from.

"And over there, they have the best chaat in the whole of Mumbattan!"

You whipped your head to the side at the mention of chaat, the memory of the delicious snack coming back to you as the aroma made its way toward where you two were sitting. "Can we get some?"

Pav nodded his head and led you closer to the stall, still staying on the roofs of the buildings, swinging above the heads of the crowds in the area. There were more than a couple stalls, probably anywhere from 20 to 50 of them, the sights and smells practically flooding your senses. "Chaat or vada pav?"

"both. Both is good."

He laughed at your response and motioned for you to wait there while he grabbed some. You took the few minutes to take in the rest of the sight. Mumbattan was beautiful. Yes, it was crowded, but the people were just a part of its charm! There were miniature temples everywhere, with women in saris and men in dhotis entering and exiting them. It reminded you a lot of home, where you family was from. I mean, it technically was your home...just a much more futuristic version of it. But then of course, some things never change. The temples, the street food, the traffic, it was all practically the same.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Pav reappeared next to you, holding a paper plate with two different chaats in it. Papdi and samosa. Nice. He also brought vada pav, which he immediately started snacking on. "So...Indian Spider-man huh? Never thought I'd see the day"

"you're Indian too, correct?"

"eh, its not the same. You're like Indian Indian, I haven't even BEEN to India in ages."

"Well now you have, haven't you?" He said with a smile, nudging your shoulder. Damn this guy was optimistic. It was refreshing.

You chuckled at this. "Thanks for the food"

"Anytime! If you ever visit again, I'll bring you to even more stalls next time. We can get pani puri too!"

"Sounds perfect."

"Does this mean we're friends now?"

"Do you wanna be?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're friends. Us desi's gotta stick together, right?"

A/N

I didn't really know how to end it, so I kind of gave it a crappy ending, sorry for that. This fic didn't really have much of a plot, but I just really wanted to write something that was Indian/Desi reader related because despite there being a whole Indian spider-man, there's like zero fics where he encounters an Indian reader or an Indian oc! Hopefully this was readable and any and all feedback is appreciated!

I love Pav so much, I just wanna hug him and be his best friend 😭

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

What do you think about the catholic 'miracles' of fatima, the prophecies, the apparitions of the virgin Mary, miracle of the sun and whatnot, do you think that there's any authenticity to it?

No.

And we know that they're not.

Take note here that they wanted to punish someone for finding truth. They wanted to worship a lie without the intrusion of the truth. They weren't disappointed that it wasn't true, they were angry at the person who figured out that it wasn't. They didn't want to know, they wanted to believe. This is what "faith" means.

If the sun had "danced" in the sky at Fátima, it would have been visible at more than one specific location to only a minority of people of Earth, who were true believers and told contradictory stories anyway.

Prophecies are fantastically easy to fulfil. Particularly when they're vague, unverifiable, or the events predicted are inevitable, such as wars, diseases or the political rise of good and bad leaders. Here's an example all three:

If you make enough predictions, some are statistically going to land, or may even be self-fulfilling (the act of predicting it encourages people to make it happen).

It's Nostradamus' entire schtick. If we're keeping score Nostradamus is ahead of Xianity. Especially since Xianity's most important prophecy - the return of Jesus - has already been falsified.

Mark 9:1

And he said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power.

Matthew 16:28

Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom.

They never account for their history of "misses," yet still expect to be treated as reliable.

Importantly, and hopefully obviously, we don't have to be able to explain these events otherwise in order to reject them as "miracles." It's not up to us to disprove what has not been proven. "You can't explain it, therefore god" is not just an argument from ignorance, it's a contradiction: "you can't explain it, therefore it's explained" is self-refuting. The only thing you can say about an unexplained thing is that it's unexplained. And it's useless to claim that people who weren't there and had no access to the events can't explain a thing.

We can insert anything into that gap. For example, it's no less justified to assert that the Miracle of the Sun was the evil lord Xenu deploying mind-control programming to those at Fátima to be his guards in the afterlife. Prove that this isn't true.

They must be able to make the case that the only, or most likely, explanation is the the laws of the physical universe were violated, specifically by their preferred god. And to do that, they must be able to justify why other more mundane explanations - or simply "we don't know" - are either false or less likely. And most of the faithful couldn't even name a single other explanation - and won't accept the intellectually honest "we don't know."

One of the biggest reasons of all to remain skeptical of human claims of miracles and prophecies isn't what we don't know about those miracles, gods and virgin mothers, but what we do know about humans themselves.

We're pattern-seeking creatures, and meaning-making organisms. It's been an advantage in our evolution, but it also makes us unreliable, as we're prone to finding meaning or making connections that aren't there.

This is not an elephant. This is not Mother Teresa.

So the question becomes, what's more likely: an unverified woman who supposedly became divinely pregnant without having sex, giving birth to a man who was killed, came back to life and flew up into the sky is communicating through a vague outline of herself on a wall under a freeway, or humans see what they're motivated to see among millions of stains of various types and causes?

Isn't it odd that we never hear about the millions of stains that aren't in the shape of the Virgin Mary if you squint and know what to look for? If this stain had appeared on a wall in South America or Japan 1000 years ago, who would they have interpreted it as? Would they have even given it a second glance? If you have to already know about Mary to see Mary in it, how is it a "miracle"?

It's really unfortunate that the lord of all creation, who made everything, who got the physics of the universe, the functioning of human bodies, the position of the Earth in the solar system just so, who spoke directly to people and made bargains, covenants and plans directly with humans - yet somehow thought the Earth was flat, stars are tiny lights, didn't know about the Americas or Australia, or how rain works - is now relegated to faint whispering through vague smears on walls, dripping toilet water through human statues, appearing on toast and dog's butt's, and giving out predictions through crazy people and liars.

How the mighty have fallen.

[louisupdates]

In an exclusive interview, the former One Direction band member says it’s the right time to come play in India.

Louis Tomlinson brought an intimate energy to the music festival on Sunday, captivating the crowd with his signature blend of Britpop and indie rock. Fan swayed and sang along to his numbers, ‘Drag Me Down,’ ‘Night Changes,’ and ‘Saturday,’ to name a few. The 33 year-old singer from Doncaster, England, made a confession. “Never in a million fucking years did I ever think I’d be in India as a young lad, and never did I think I’d be performing here. It’s mind-blowing, man. I can’t get my head around it. I love you,” he said. He tweeted after the show, “India I had no idea what to expect but you turned up in full force. From Doncaster to Mumbai. Mind-blowing! Thank you!” Ahead of his performance, earlier in the day, we met with Louis instruct an exclusive conversation with him which revolved around India, his music, and more. 

This is your maiden performance in India. What are your thoughts like going into the show?

I always try and manage my own expectations. I don’t really know what to expect. This is my first time here. There’s a reason why I’m here, that’s for sure. I’ve felt the presence online from Indian fans, and it’s a place I’ve always wanted to come to. So, it feels like a real honour to be here. When I saw the amount of people that were waiting outside the airport just for me to arrive, that’s always a lovely feeling. As soon as I kind of touched down, I had that confidence that I’ve got that support, and that was a nice feeling.

Shawn Mendes wore the Indian cricket team jersey on Saturday. Do you follow the game back home?

Cricket is very big in the UK. I do remember this. My great-granddad used to have this old cricket ball; he had kept it for a long time. As a young lad, I remember playing with it quite a lot, but b eyond that, I don’t follow the game too much, to be honest. I respect the sport, for sure, but I’m not a massive cricket fan.

What do you think of India as a global music destination? Coldplay performed here; Ed Sheeran was here for a while. Various global artistes are now frequently performing in the country.

It’s a surprise to me that we never came here with One Direction. I hear the band was big in India. It was a missed opportunity for us. Although, as you said, it is more common now with the likes of Ed and Coldplay coming here. I feel lucky because it’s the right time to come play in India. I do think like all things in life, the music industry tends to be a bit rigid. As soon as you see Ed and Coldplay come over, that is brilliant for everyone else. It sets a precedent about how amazing the shows are in India and what is possible over here.

I don’t believe there’s specifically a change, but the fact that those massive artists are coming over here and doing substantial shows now, it only means more artists from the West will follow suit. 

Right from The Beatles to now Coldplay and Ed Sheeran, English artistes have a strong connection with India. What was your perception of the country before landing here?

When I was 16 or 17 years old, I never imagined that I would be in a band someday. Probably the thing that might have been furthest away, like a dream, was playing in a place like India, so far from home and with a completely different culture and food. That’s a luxury. That’s something I never thought I’d be in a position to do. So just to be here and take in the excitement... Because, like, the reason I’ve been fighting to come for the last five, six years because it’s just such an exciting place to explore. 

You know, if I go back to England and tell anyone I’ve been to India, i’ll watch their ears prick up. They’ll be interested all of a sudden because it’s just such an exciting place to explore. 

You started off quite young as a singer. You’ve been a contestant, judge, band member and now solo artist. What have been your learning lessons?

I was always taught from a young age to trust my gut, and I think especially in an industry like this, you are constantly surrounded by different opinions, some are valid and some are not. At some point you have to trust yourself and trust your gut. Also, in my world, you’re dealing in the theoretical. We are constantly looking into the future to imagine what things might mean or accept ourselves. There is a big element of crossing your fingers, trusting your gut and just going for it. 

You are known for your fashion and your music. As a trendsetter, what inspires you? What gets you going?

Musically, it’s lyric. I always come back to lyric. I think that’s my strongest suit as a writer. I really appreciate deep lyrics. I admire someone like Sam Fender. He has good conceptual lyrics. As far as fashion is concerned, I always dress down. And in recent years, it’s become trendier to dress down. So, the whole time, it’s kind of suited me very well.

You have acted a bit. Are you aware of Bollywood and the film culture here?

I have done a bit of acting. I am aware of the film culture in India. It’s enormous here. I haven’t really watched a Bollywood film though. Maybe you could give me a recommendation. if someone from Bollywood is listening, I’m in!

You are in Mumbai for the first time after all these years. Is this a brief visit or are you hoping to explore the city in terms of food, people, culture, and shopping? 

I am just taking in as much as possible because this trip, given the nature of the festival, we’re in and out. I’m going to spend about 48 hours here and leave right after the show, so my time is limited. My mission is to absolutely nail the show and hopefully to come back and do my own tour here. And it’ll be at that time where I will probably have more time to explore, take in the culture and eat more food. Because I’ve realized how much of a Brit I sound when I say the only curry I’ve had so far is butter chicken. That’s pretty British, isn’t it? The food is definitely better here, obviously. Even the butter chicken. I had it last night.

Where did you have it?

Room service! (Laughs)

What are you like when no-one’s watching, Louis? With social media, so much of a celebrity’s life is out there.

I suppose everyone says this, but I like to think I’m not too different from what you see on camera. I always try to carry myself in an honest way. I suppose just by the nature of the job, behind the cameras, I’m probably a little bit more lowkey. But yeah, I suppose I’d like to think that I’m pretty similar to how I am now.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5619

Jalsa, Mumbai                  July 6/7,  2023                Thu/Fri  1:15 AM

Apologies for missing the Calendar updates 😔 .. but making up .. 🙏🏻

..

🪔 .. July 04 .. was no birthday ..

🪔 .. July 05 .. birthday of Ef Shashikant Pedwal from Pune .. and Rajat Watel from Jammu ..

🪔 .. July 06 .. birthday of Ef Pronobesh Roy Choudhury from West Bengal - Kolkata ..

🪔 .. July 07 .. birthday of Ef Saurabh Bhakri from New Delhi ..

Greetings to all and the joys of the World .. ❤️ from your Ef Family .. 🙏🏻🚩

So .. a few days off .. and the days spent in reflection , rejuvenation .. not of the age kind but to gain the knowledge of what goes on inside the World of reflection .. smart yes .. 

Yes .. 

It is , or rather are the reflection days .. a wonder why certain ‘givens’ were given , why certain doings were being done .. why a name an act an act .. and so many other ‘whys’ .. 

The curiosity widens .. and it is not the curiosity , it is the will of the mind to delve into regions which were in a sense reserved to ask or know .. 

Now with age the ridicule has lessened .. now with time they that are asked or are brought into the picture by me , are convinced that the man is 81 , old decrepit and mental , bear him .. it shan’t be for long .. and the responses go on with a sense of  .. ‘poor guy , so uninformed , let him be .. etc etc etc .. “ 

Also the temerity to seek and voice matters that may never have been done earlier have reached the stage of a fearless disposition .. 

So to start with ..

Wimbledon is on .. and the Women players get Women ex champions in the commentary box to speak and inform and comment .. most of the time .. the Men players get ex men champions in the box .. 

BUT ..

Typically .. give a microphone to any individual and they shall never stop talking .. and this I notice often .. 

In the game of tennis or any such moment , when the entire concentration is in the players and how their mind is working etc., the commentators keep talking .. hey ! I want silence at that time .. I want to get into the mind of the player and the ladies keep commenting on past games and opinions , and moments as to why he or she played so and so and such and such ..

NOOO ..

I do not want to be disturbed by your chatter .. give me all that you have to say in the break .. when the players wipe face drink energy, eat energy chocolate, complain to the Ref , ask questions facially to their team on the stands above , lament that the crowd is not with them .. and so on ..  

then talk as much as you like .. !! hahah .. its limited there isn’t it , because the Ads., start .. hahaha .. the ad., money is so needed for the commerce of the Tournament .. many of you would not know that there never used to be a break in tennis before .. the players just changed sides and carried on .. the break was deliberately introduced to give time to the Ads., to run and for their Commerce to thrive ..

AND THANK THE LORD FOR THAT .. !! I get a job too .. the Ad.s and the endorsements  .. hahah !! 

yes their experience and stories of past moments .. or guidance of how the game goes on and what the strategy should be - unless its an English Brit playing ..  then it’s all about them even when they are losing .. it’s always the ‘sun’ coming in the eyes , the wind is blowing against them when they serve or take a smash shot .. the shadow keeps changing on the court , the linesmen are making mistakes .. ufff .. the list is endless .. even when the opponent has given a amazing shot, the comment if its a Brit will be .. ‘he was there, foot slipped, would have returned it .. ‘  

the exuberant adjectives used when there is a Brit commentator for Cricket and their team players hits 4 or a 6 ..  !!  listen to them .. they just go on and on in praise and compliments .. !!

And for us ..  it’s just a terse inform .. hehehe .. 

WE  THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, NOTICE ALL THIS  .. 

But we are a tolerant people .. just that ..  ‘गले ते  हथ ना लाई  !’  as we would say in Punjabi ‘don’t put your threatening hand on my neck’ .. because we will thoko ..  ठोको,  ..  .. गळ्यात हात ठेवला तर, ठोक देणार !!!

AAAh .. a favorite subject of mine  .. and I love noticing and commenting in private , but today .. गळ्यात हात ठेवला तर ठोक देणार !!

“ to ask the hard question is simple ‘ .. किसी मुश्किल प्रश्न को पूछना बड़ा आसान होता है  

So have asked .. and the answers shall be in the known medium  !!!

Love respect .. affection and more ❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[theascent]

☼☾ ( douglas booth , 28 , he/him , cisgender man , schellenberg 4 ) - have you seen MATTEO SCHELLENBERG?  we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re IMAGINATIVE but also DUPLICITOUS. when you think of them , you think of INK STAINED FINGERTIPS, WARMED FROM THE FLAME OF A NEARBY FIRE, DARK LASHES CONCEALING AN EVEN DARKER, MORE DISINGENUOUS GLINT, and FLOWERY PROMISES WHISPERED AGAINST THE COLUMN OF YOUR THROAT.

⊱⋅•⋅ full navigation

b a s i c s

name: matteo schellenberg title: lord; second youngest of the schellenbergs birthdate: july 9; currently 28 pronouns: he/him gender: cisgender man nation: liechtenstein orientation: bisexual/biromantic

more information, particularly regarding interests and personality, available through the navigation link above.

b a c k g r o u n d

1800s 07 August My Dearest Brother,

I have sent yet another bundle of masala chai, you would do well to savor the leaves as my monthly shipments will soon cease. I’ve never considered myself to be in possession of much luck, and I’m aware of the irony of such a statement given the current circumstances that have befallen our family, but ha! I knew a rainy day would soon arrive, and oh how gloomy this year has been. I have just enough saved to purchase a ticket back home. Seeing as Silas has all but ruined our reputation… I suppose it’s best I spare you the distress of bearing this situation alone and say that…well, I intend to be back in Liechtenstein before Silas has the chance to bleed us dry of every krone in his sight.

We are both aware of the trouble our brother’s desires have got him in, and if we desire to have the bastard outested by the end of the year, you will be in need of all the help you can get. And before you choose to scold me - I can nearly see your quill poised over your reply, even from my accommodations here in Mumbai - I evoke the term bastard with all the adoration in the world for my dearest elder brother.

Even if his penchant for parties and whores have all but rendered the last six years of my life abroad useless …

Once you’re instated as Duke Schellenberg, I expect proper compensation for my efforts. My generosity, as you well know, is not given for free. I understand funds will remain short, so perhaps I will accept an alternative form of payment. 

Ah, and do you still see the publisher’s nephew on occasion? It is…of supreme importance that you give him the letter I posted from Spain. For a man that claims to have his hands full, he is quite adamant about a mere chapter….do give him the letter, yes? He says it is not potential I have, but a ‘natural genius for capturing the very essence of life in mere words’ – his words, not mine. You know I’m not one to brag. Well, not often, at least. But can you believe it? Your brother, the author. Perhaps I will end up like Rousseau or Austen?

 I must return back to bed before the flame burns through the last of the wick. Give my best to Silas and the others, or do not. I don’t particularly care. Yours Truly, MS

p u r p o s e + h c s

matteo's purpose for being in france can be summarized into one simple word: autonomy. being fourth in line for the dukedom meant his ambitions were his alone, not forced upon him in the name of familial duty. matteo dreams of becoming of famous author; this is what led him to spend his early twenties traversing the world in hopes of drawing inspiration for his debut novel.

unfortunately his plans came to a staggering halt when the news of his family's sudden financial misfortune forced him to return home.

but it's not revenge that brought him to france, it's riches. titled misses and misters wander the hallways and frolic in the gardens and it's just so easy. matteo is a master of words, and he intends to use them to his advantage, bewitching his way into the upper echelon. into wealth. with fortune comes the funds to achieve his dream, and he's prepared to swindle and use anyone it takes - even if it means subjugating himself to a loveless marriage.

those with humble origins become pawns; the hands that caress supple skin prompt shaking, pointed fingers of blame. blackmail. the lips that offer declarations of fondness elicit the slightest whisper of a name. a victim. handmaids and stable boys become his closest confidantes, but the ball is forever in his court.

to those who don't know him (which, admittedly, is most considering he's been traveling for years), he appears to be just another rake. easygoing and unserious. he prefers this; it allows him to move through society unbothered. late night rendezvous lead to diamonds and watches sitting heavily in the bottom of his pockets.

matteo craves glory. if he can't secure enough funds to support his past lifestyle, he is sure that all his hard work will be for nothing. writing has always been his outlet, but liechtenstein doesn't offer the same inspiration that the high seas and spice markets do.

and i have some wanted connections in the navigation! message me on discord or tumblr if you'd like to plot something !

[ashsimpsalot]

Sushi in Tokyo (Kid X Sita X Reader)

Yes this is a poly fic, the tittle is based on

MY poly anthem

You entered the cracked up flat to find Kid watching the TV by himself, so deep in the Movie he didn't even realise you were home, a smile formed on your lips, fuck, even though you're hosting two fugitives in your home, the sight is too domestic to not melt your heart.

"I'm home," you announced, closing the door behind you. You turned around to see Kid with a big smile on his lips, standing and walking towards you, as excited as a puppy.

"jaanu, I missed you," he breathed before attaching hid lips to yours, hands wrapping around your waist. You hummed in the kiss.

Once you pulled back you stared into his eyes with a smile before looking at his hair, touching them.

"your curls feels fluffier than usual," you made a comment which earned a chuckle from Kid. He hummed and have your lips a final peck. "Sita put henna on my hair, she said she got bored being stuck in this house." he explained.

The mental image of your girl just running her hands into your man's curls makes you smile.

"where is she?" he lead you to sit you on the couch with him. "she's asleep," he whispered into your hair. The man's already clingy as it is, having you work much more than usual makes Kid crave having you in his arms even more.

You being the only face that is not all over the news for the murder of Rana, Queenie and Baba Shakti, you had decided, it's safer for the them to stay at home until it all die down, then all three of you could make a run to a different region of India, maybe even crossing borders. Anywhere people can't recognise them.

But until then you have to work to supply enough money, for three people, and it's not easy. It takes way much more time than you usually work.

You glance at the blanket that is on the sofa and frowned. "you're sleeping on the couch? Did you two fought?" you asked looking at Kid.

Kid barely loses his cool, Sita, being herself, is always clear on what she wants, what she likes and dislikes. For them to fight is very very rare.

"God, no. She kicked me out of the room because it was too hot, she said I'm a human heater," he said and lightly pouted. You let out a small laugh.

"she's right, you are a heater, and the heat of Mumbai isn't to play with. Plus your habit of hugging while you sleep isn't really helping your case." you teased, kissing his pout off. His eyebrows furrowed. "I can't even cuddle my girls without being rejected," he joked. You love it when Kid is comfortable. When it just the three of you, you get to see this side of him.

"baby?" a sleepy voice interrupted you two you turned around to see Sita with sleepy eyes standing in front of the room.

"hey, pretty girl, come here," you smiled at your girl, fuck even when she just woke up she's so incredibly beautiful. Sita sits herself between Kid and you, playfully pushing Kid away from you earning a small whine from Kid. He positione her so that she's sitting on his lap. On of her hand thrown over his shoulder she lazily kissed him

You smiled and softly placed your thumb on her chin, caressing before leading her in. She smiled and kissed you next.

"how was your nap?" Sita had thrown both her legs into your lap, you chuckled and brought her hand to kiss her palm.

"was good, without the heater bothering me." she joked, Kid tickled her side earning a yelp form her.

"Did I wake you up, sweetheart?" you asked softly, she just shook her head. Taking your hand in hers and begun her favourite pass time. Drawing random shapes on your palm.

"it's raining outside, it got cold," she replied, her fingers tracing letters in your palm. 'I <3 u` again and again and you smiled.

"is that why you came out? To be with the heater?" Kid asked, his arm thrown over your shoulder to pull you closer, you end up with your head on his chest while Sita's head on his neck.

Just what you need after a long day.

Sita didn't answer just let out a small laugh and yelp once again when he tickled her side. "Kidd!" she whined, now switching form drawing letters in your palm to kissing your fingers, almost even suckling on them.

Kid on the other hand has had his nose buried in your hair. Obviously sniffing the hell out of them.

"you two are awfully clingy today," you laughed into Kid's chest, eyes pinned on how pretty Sita's lips are kissing your fingers like that. You're glad that she's comfortable enough to let her oral fixation out and about. She used to say she's insecure about it and try not to do it in public.

"we missed you," Sita said softly before taking her head off of Kid's neck, tilting your chin and kissed your lips. You hummed into the kiss.

"hopefully this thing die down a little soon, I've got my contact for fake IDs already, even all the papers we need, just need this to die down and we can move on," Kid said and sighed. Sita though looked particularly interested. "what?" Kid asked confused. You just laughed because you know your girl all too well.

"you talking about all these matter makes her hot and bothered," you joked which made Sita blush. "hey!" she tried to defend herself before burying her face into Kid's neck, hiding from both of you.Kid chuckled and raised his hand to run it through her hair.

"hot and bothered hm?" he looked over to you with a smirk. You chucked. "such a tease," you laughed at him and kissed his lips, Sita turned her head again, pulling your hand towards her lips and kissed them again.

"i could fall asleep like this," you admitted, earning a him from Kid. A yawn escaped your lips. You looked over to Sita and chuckled when she's settled into placed your index finger into her mouth.

"I might fall asleep," you said again eyes now closed. Kid's hand that was resting on your arm softly move to pat you "sleep, I'll lift you later," you answer with a hum. You felt a kiss on your head and before you know it you're snoring like a baby.