please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.
you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.
first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.
now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:
in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.
and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.
and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.
it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:
• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.
• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.
• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.
• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.
• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.
• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.
and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.
what i'm asking:
if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.
if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.
india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.
Aamir Khan has denied over the years that Sonam Wangchuk was the inspiration behind Phungsuk Wangdu character. Nadda feeding Mr. Wangchuk. Religious polarisation? What was Pakistan made for then? Shits and giggles? Really funny how Indian left twists history to make their claims palatable to the American audience.
STOPP thank you so much 😭🫶 That genuinely means a lot to me, especially because I’m still really new to Tumblr and my blog is honestly still a mess while I figure everything out skdjdj 😭
I’m really happy you enjoyed my work though, seriously. Comments like this make me so excited to keep writing and posting more ♡
The wedding hall was a chaotic symphony of clinking glasses, distant laughter, and the relentless patter of kids—high on sugar and weaving through the legs of guests.
Amidst the whirlwind, Satoru Gojo stood like a monument of glorious indifference. His hands were buried deep in his suit pockets, and his face was a masterpiece of deadpan exhaustion. His signature rectangular shades were pushed up, resting against his shock of white hair, leaving those striking, ethereal blue eyes exposed—eyes that currently looked ready to glaze over as Yaga droned on beside him.
"You really should leave the past where it belongs and actually enjoy your life, Satoru," Yaga scolded, his voice barely audible over the music. "Why don’t you try being a normal human for once? Talk to someone. Find a girl."
Satoru let out a yawn so wide it was practically theatrical. "Can we skip the 'new leaf' speech? Let's just eat the expensive catering and vanish. I’m tired, Yaga."
The "tiredness" wasn't just physical. His old life in a secret government agency—a world of shadows and the haunting "Mission: Kill Blood"—still flickered in the back of his mind like a broken film projector. Peace was a luxury he hadn’t quite mastered yet, but he wore his stern, strict aura like a shield.
"Fine," Yaga sighed, adjusting his own glasses. "Let's just focus on the food—"
A few feet away, a heated debate was unfolding. A group of three girls in their early twenties were huddled together, though one was clearly leading the charge. She had long, dark hair that rippled over her shoulders, her deep, expressive eyes flashing with annoyance as she smoothed out her white skirt.
"He doesn't even reach my height!" she complained, throwing her hands up. "He’s a complete loser, and I am not interested in this stupid marriage. My parents clearly have no vision."
"Okay, then," her friend teased, "if Mr. Short-and-Boring isn't it, what’s your type?"
"My type?" Y/N paused, her gaze scanning the room for a hypothetical ideal. Her eyes skipped over a dozen suits before locking onto the white-haired giant leaning against a pillar. "Older. Smart. And most importantly... the height difference. Like..."
Before her friends could blink, Y/N marched over and boldly looped her arm through Satoru’s.
Satoru blinked. He didn't pull away; he just looked down at the top of her head with a look of bewildered fascination. Yaga, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow, a rare, amused smirk playing on his lips as he stepped back to enjoy the show.
"Like this," Y/N announced to her friends, gesturing to Satoru as if he were a prize-winning stallion she’d just bought. "Look at this height ratio. This is the blueprint. I want a man who makes me look like a pocket-sized accessory."
"Right." Y/N casually released his arm as if she hadn't just used a stranger as a yardstick. She turned back to her friends, resuming her rant about how uninterested she was in the boy her parents had picked for her.
Yaga leaned in, whispering into Satoru’s ear, "She’s flirting with you. Now watch how a pro handles this."
Yaga cleared his throat and stepped toward Y/N. "Excuse me, miss? I have to go present a gift to the newlyweds, and I’m afraid my friend here has a terrible sense of direction. Could you look after him for a moment? Make sure he doesn’t wander off and get lost?"
Before Y/N could process the request, Yaga vanished into the crowd—notably empty-handed. Her friends, sensing a "moment," giggled and bolted toward the bar for drinks, leaving her alone with the white-haired stranger.
A heavy silence fell. Y/N slowly turned her head, her neck craning back until she met his stern, expressionless stare. She offered a weak, awkward smile, shifting her weight.
"So..." she started, extending her arm toward him with a playful glint in her eyes. "If you’re really that scared of getting lost... you can hold my hand."
Satoru let the silence stretch just long enough to make her heart skip. Then, he leaned down, his voice a low, smooth vibrate that cut through the noise.
"How about I hold your waist instead? That seems much more secure, don't you think?"
He made a sudden, mock-serious move toward her waist, causing Y/N to jump back with a startled squeak. A faint, smug smirk finally broke across his face.
"Oh, please," Satoru rolled his eyes, straightening back up. "That man went to give a gift with nothing in his hands, and you actually believed I’d get lost? Do I look like I’m at an age where I need a babysitter?"
Y/N felt a heat crawl up her neck. She looked at him, judging her own life choices, because despite his strict aura, this man was dangerously attractive.
Satoru stepped closer, his blue eyes shimmering with a sudden, mischievous heat while his face remained stern. "How dare you look this beautiful and keep teasing me with those full, plum lips," he muttered under his breath, his gaze lingering just a second too long. "Make sure I don't end up kissing you right here. Now, go away."
He turned on his heel and headed toward the buffet, leaving Y/N standing there with cheeks that were now a vivid shade of pink. She raised an eyebrow, huffing as she watched him go, but her heart was hammering a rhythm that had absolutely nothing to do with the boring wedding speeches.
Elite ball knowledge required to get the reference.
The Sunday sun was beginning to dip, casting long, honey-colored honey-colored streaks across Y/N’s desk. She was hunched over her laptop, the glow of the screen reflecting in her eyes as she hammered away at a history assignment. The room was silent until a faint, rhythmic shick-thwip sounded from the glass, followed by the heavy groan of the window sliding upward and clicking shut.
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She didn’t bother turning around; there weren't many people who could bypass the security of a 20th-floor apartment without using the front door.
"Honestly, Yuji," she said, her voice teasing as she typed a final sentence. "If you’re here to tell me you need help with the chemistry lab report again, I’m charging you tuition."
"Umm... well, technically..."
Y/N finally swiveled her chair around, and her breath hitched. Yuji was dangling from the ceiling, suspended by a single, shimmering strand of webbing. He was upside down, his legs crossed in a relaxed "sitting" position against the plaster, his masked face just inches from hers.
"You know my chemistry is... unstable," he said, the white lenses of his mask narrowing as he tilted his head. "I almost blew up the beaker today. It was an accident! Mostly."
"You actually did," Y/N laughed, reaching up to gently peel the fabric of the mask away.
As the mask came off, his signature pink hair fell in a chaotic, sweat-matted mess. Y/N cupped his cheeks, her thumbs grazing a jagged little cut near his lip and a fresh bruise blooming under his left eye. Up close and upside down, he looked like a weary, adorable puppy.
"And how did we get these?" she whispered, her gaze softening. "Another 'accident'?"
"Cat fight," Yuji blurted out, his eyes darting around the room. "The old lady on 4th Street lost her tabby again. It was... very aggressive. A real monster."
Y/N didn’t believe a word of it—she knew a punch-mark when she saw one—but she didn't call him out. Instead, she leaned in, closing the distance. The kiss was awkward and perfect, a soft collision of lips while he dangled like a human pendulum. He tasted like salt and the cool evening air, and for a moment, the 20-story drop outside didn't matter.
"Y/N? Are you asleep? I actually need to—"
The door swung open with a bang. Yuki froze in the doorway, her hand still on the knob, her eyes wide as she took in the scene: her cousin, Y/N, locked in a romantic clinch with a man in a high-tech spider suit who was currently defying gravity.
"Y/N!" Yuki gasped, her voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass. "I didn't know you were cheating on Yuji with Spider-Man! Since when do you have a thing for bugs?!"
The world seemed to stop. Yuji and Y/N ripped apart, their eyes blowing wide in synchronized terror. Yuji scrambled, his hands slipping on the webbing for a second as he realized his mask was still in Y/N's hand. His face—his very recognizable, very 'Yuji' face—was completely exposed.
"It's not what it looks like!" Y/N shouted, jumping out of her chair and accidentally knocking over a stack of textbooks.
"You're... wait." Yuki stepped into the room, squinting at the boy on the ceiling. "Yuji? You're Spider-Man?"
Yuji’s brain short-circuited. His survival instincts, honed by weeks of dodging pumpkin bombs, gave him one piece of advice: Play it cool. Deny everything. Act dumb
"Who's Spider-Man?" Yuji asked, his voice cracking. He blinked innocently, still hanging upside down while wearing the literal red-and-black suit, and within a second Yuji immediately regretted internally.
Shit, not that dumb.
The silence that followed was heavy. Y/N stared at him, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated disbelief.
"Yuji," Y/N whispered, her voice flat. "You are literally wearing the suit. Right now. On my ceiling."
"Oh," Yuji muttered, his ears turning a bright, glowing red. "Right. That. It’s... a very high-quality pajama set?"
And Y/N sighed face palming, because the secret was out and there's no way denying it anymore.
Yuki crossed her arms, a slow, devious smirk spreading across her face. "A pajama set that comes with web-shooters and a secret identity? Oh, this is going to be the most expensive secret you’ve ever kept, 'bug boy'."
Y/N sighed, sinking back into her chair and burying her face in her hands. "This is the beginning of the end."
This is an extract from my book New York City || Spiderman!Yuji from Wattpad
Satoru’s definition of “cuddling” after a long, tiring day of fighting curses is his cock snuggling in your warm pussy, your tight walls massaging his cock, making him felt like he was floating in heaven as his white huffs of pubic hair tickles your clit—symbolizing the lewd connection between you and him, his face nuzzling into your hair from behind. The signature smell of your berry-scent shampoo filling his nostrils as his big arms tighten around your torso, he shifts slightly, resulting to his cock head graze against your sweet spot—making you moan softly which didn’t go unnoticed by the tired sorcerer.
He lazily licks a long strip of your shoulders up to your neck making you shiver as he whispers into your ear. “Shit m’sorry sweetheart, Your pussy feels so good warming up my cock, just what I needed—Mmm you’re so good to me”. A mischievous grin plays on his lips before he pulls off the covers and that’s how you know, you two definitely won’t be cuddling anymore for any longer.
He would have you propped up on the bed, legs on either side of his head, his tongue soothing the delicious burn of your need.
At first, he would tease you over the thin fabric of your panties until he’d bunch them up, dragging them back and forth all over your cunt. He would be so enamoured by you, he’d probably be able to get off just by pleasuring you.
It would be so sensual, too-his jaw moving with his tongue, drawing languid and big circles over not just your clit, but your entire pussy, slowly, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. His hands would be gentle, caressing and moving your legs into the positions most comfortable for you.
He would leisurely make you go hazy with arousal, and I stand by that.
I picture him spreading your folds gently with his fingers, disconnecting himself from your sex. A thin string of saliva glistens brightly, linking him to your pussy. His face is obscured by the dim atmosphere in the room, and he has a lustful expression on his face as he pulls back to examine you.
You look totally fucked out, lost in the feeling of his hands and tongue running over your sensitive skin. You whimper as a beady string of spit lands on your clit. He thumbs over your entrance, and you clench down hard on him. He groans.
It is a constant cycle of giving you more than you can handle, and not enough at the same time. Levi knows that. And yet, he doesn’t want to give you his all for now. You’re deserving of it, but he believes in the ability to wait.
And so Levi knows that he’s got you right where he wants you. He gently traces his nose against your inner thighs, pressing a single kiss to the area right below your throbbing clit. He’s teasing you constantly, and you hiss loudly. The only sounds in the room are your panting, and the obscene sounds of him licking you all over. Your legs tremble uncontrollably.
Though he would never admit it, he’s smitten by you, and he would give you the world if you asked him for it- especially in moments like these, when he knows you have such a tight hold on him. At the end of a long, hard day Levi would ruin you just for his own satisfaction.
So he pinches your clit between his pointer finger and thumb, and rubs them in circles over and over again. The air hangs heavy with the smell of sex and musk.
His lips part as he admires you from below, grey eyes glazed over and focused on your wetness.
Your toes crack and curl. You wheeze loudly. He coos.
“Levi!”- you moan, grabbing fistfuls of his raven hair, gaze boring right through you. Your hips inevitably raise under the devastating pressure, and you think he might let you tip over the edge, when all of a sudden…
Nothing. All his ministrations stop.
You’re confused for a second before his hand comes down forcefully on your cunt, slapping your clit.
Your legs jolt, and you gasp. Levi is quick to shush you.
“Does this feel good?”
You mewl. He hums as his entire palm massages your cunt, rich baritone filling your ears.
fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words
“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss.
he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live.
cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.
he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.
“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.
“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.”
a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.”
“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."
normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks.
levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”
you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice.
levi makes his way towards the door.
“levi?”
he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t.
but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought.
you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.”
he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting.
he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter.
no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle.
levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess.
their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say.
his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first.
“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.
armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”
levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red.
he should've known.
“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.
“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."
levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you.
“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”
eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice.
or so he thought, anyway.
historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness.
“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”
levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.
eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned.
it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety.
“how long have you been together?”
“does she actually like you?”
“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.”
“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.”
“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.”
"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.”
“five—”
a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.
levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.
even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.
There are two sides to Satoru Gojo's aftercare - one, so sweet, brushing your hair, making sure you're hydrated, running a hot bath for how sore you get when he beats your pretty pussy up. You see that smirk on his pouty lips when he does so, when he cooes in your ear, how much he loves you, washing your body so tenderly like he didn't just wreck your uterus.
Then there's the other side of Satoru Gojo's aftercare - the thorough cleaning as he laps up your cunt with his long pink tongue, hungrily drinking his own cum right out of the hole he has puffy and abused. He relishes in how you twitch under him, huge hands pinning your hips down to the bed, you're hiccuping and crying, god your tears just make his cock hard all over again.
'Toru - ah! S-sensitive!' you'll whine out, tugging at his silky white locks to the point it hurts him so good, and he'll grin fucking psychotically at you, under his snowy white lashes, blue eyes dilated and almost black. 'aww, too much? can't take it?' he'll taunt you then, as you whine out, nodding, earning his conceited chuckle.
A man who makes sure your hair is conditioned, blow dried, and your face gets a million kisses, is then moaning on your twitchy, overstimulated clit as he watches the mix of his pearly white cum and yours swirl out - making you gasp his name - 'Satoru!'
'You can take more f'me, can't you sweetheart?' he taunts softly, groaning against you, you nod eagerly - and he'll whisper 'good girl' as he fingers his cum back inside your sore walls, drinking up the rest of the mix of you two as you cum for him again.
Then, like two people in one giant six foot four man, he'll be back to pressing sweet kisses on your head, braiding your hair into something adorable and chuckling. He'll be massaging your sore thighs, like he did not just have you overstimulated to tears, like he didn't have you dragging down his huge cock, burying it against your cervix.
His aftercare has fucking aftercare.
Just bc I'm obsessed with LADS rn doesn't mean I don't love my pookie hehe
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