#siya writes

[yuripitt]

McVadi after making out :

Cassie : *freaking out* I'm the worst person alive, I am a fucking predator for making out with the 21 year old med student who is supposed to be in my care and here I am taking advantage of her shit shit fucking FUCK!!!!!!!!

Victoria : *touching her swollen lips* OMG this is the best day of my life!!!! I just made out with my hot milf mentor yippee!!!!!! Cassie can we please do it again??

[writersiya]

A part of me always believed Rukmini to be a romantic at heart. She believed in the kind of romance that made butterflies flutter in the stomach.

I believe when we say Sri is our mother, it's not only about her being the nurturer of the universe. It's also about these little things, the dreams every little girl saw. Those sweet little wishes we have and want to be fulfilled. Some part of her is always within us.

There is something special about mothers and daughters; our experiences are what tie us together and perhaps why womanhood is so precious.

Mothers are a daughter's first teacher and friend, we are each other's mirrors and sometimes I find myself looking at her in awe of how similar yet different we are.

From her, I gain my strength and from her, I learn to live my dreams.

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Wrote this from the heart, so it's not as perfect as I like it to be but it's definetly a special piece for me.

The bond I share with Rakhumai is deep and special that words can barely put together and this is my humble attempt at trying to convey them.

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Tag list: @vishnavishivaa @nushkiespeaks @ahamasmiyodhah @hiiiyyyaaa @soothingmelody398

[holding-infinity-and-a-book]

Teri Payal Ki Chan Chan

[transl. The Tinkling Of Your Anklets]

good morning please take a smol comfort thing i wrote tyvm its loosely based on cinderella but desi wlw etc

She stood in front of me, a tentative smile on her face. Her brown eyes seemed to sparkle as the sun’s rays highlighted them, along with the dreams and doubts and the hope inside.

Why me? was all I could choke out. She started speaking, her deep voice rich and flawless due to years of royal training. It surrounded me and tugged at my heartstrings and begged me to let go of all my other thoughts and just listen to her, look at her. I tried not to, because if i did, i’d dive into the world she was weaving with her words and stay with her there forever. But my resistance was, as always, futile. She owned me, heart and mind and soul, even though she could never be mine, or so i had thought.

I let her words surround me as they took me through all the memories we had, the ones i thought about often, but never once believed they crossed her mind.

There we were, on the 5th anniversary of her birth. There wasn’t a big celebration, just the royal family:

Maharaj - majestic and just, with laugh lines etched all over his face

Maharani, or as I call her, matarani - regal and beautiful, with a motherly smile and wit sharper than the sharpest swords

Rajkumar Aarya, the heir - aged 8 at the time and fiercely protective of his younger sibling

And the children of the nobles who were near the age of 5. I was one of those children and although my parents weren't the wealthiest of nobles, we were an old and respected family.

I look at the scene from her eyes, how the princess saw a girl hiding behind a tree, and when she went there to call her she found out that the child wasn't hiding but instead looking at a beautiful beetle.

My mom calls their wings iridescent, the girl said. The princess and the girl sat in complete silence, enveloped by the warm summer air. The sound of children laughing and talking came from a distance, as if separated by a river, and there was no one there but the two of them.

Eventually, the beetle flew away and the spell was broken. The princess stood up and extended her hand; a scene which i remember clear as day in my head; introducing herself as Prince Azeem.

A dozen other memories flash by, the two of us having lunch at the palace, our parents meeting often, Azeem and Matarani holding me after my mother died. The Queen took over the responsibilities my mother had towards me and my sister, Urvashi. That is how I came to call her Matarani - Queen Mother - and she loves the name.

I see more quick flashes, Azeem and I trying on my older sister's dresses and her laughing, us studying together under the tutors Matarani had arranged for us, sitting under a tree with Aarya and Urvashi, Aarya telling us a story about butterflies while Urvi applied henna on my palms and on Azeems after he asked.

I see the day I think about the most, we are just a week from his 15th birthday and Azeem has been nervous the whole day. The tutor is frustrated with the prince, he isn't paying attention. As soon as the tutor leaves, I turn to him. Kya hua I asked. What's wrong? He turns to me but doesn't meet my eye. Slowly, he stutters out a question. Would I still be his friend, if he wanted to be a girl? Would I hate him? Then quickly, as if realising what he said, he stands up and moves as if to leave, apologising and asking me to forget what he said.

I see myself pull him back down, forcing him to look at me. Our parents have raised us with love, not hate I tell him. Love is love. You can be whatever you want, as long as it's not someone who likes mathematics. I hear a half hearted chuckle. I love you and it doesn't matter who you are. I see him look up, crying. I blink and the next second we're hugging and he's weeping.

A week later, there's a nationwide birthday celebration for Princess Aziza.

That night, Matarani came to me. She thanked me for being friends with Aziza, for helping her. As if I'd rather do anything else, Ma I tell her. She hugs me and gives me a box. Your birthday gift in advance, she tells me. I open it to find a pair of silver anklets, with small bells which hang like water droplets frozen in time and shimmer like the stars. My sister had complained a dozen times about me wearing her payals, Ma said, so I got you a pair of your own. I hug her and almost cry.

Aziza's voice moves on, taking me through our childhood. I see her at 16, her hair finally long enough for me to braid. I see Urvashi teaching us both how to wear a sari properly, as the queen mother smiles from a distance. I see Aarya taking us shopping for lehengas. He is getting married and wants his sisters to wear what they want, instead of what the dressmakers make. He is marrying a princess, and everyone talks about finding a prince for Aziza.

They are all jokes at first, but we grow up and the jokes cease to end, growing with us and turning into true events.

One evening at dinner, Maharaj himself talks about a few princes for Aziza. I don't know why i cry that night.

Urvi gets married, and I cry more. I don't want you to leave I tell her. She smiles and hugs me, tells me she's not going far, fixes vacation dates with me and before leaving, tells me that Aziza will take care of me. I'm no prince I tell her but my sister only smiled. She always knew, it seems.

Slowly, Aziza and I grow distant. Our bond is always there, but she now has royal duties to attend to and as to not be in the way, I go away to study with hope that the distance will ease my aching heart, but it only hurts more. I would hear the town gossip about which prince or princess would Aziza like the most and wish I'd never left at all.

Aziza keeps talking and I see more. I see myself from her eyes, I see how she loves the stray curl of hair that always comes out, how i looked the night of Urvi's wedding, the light blue lehenga contrasting my dark skin, how it hurt her to see me cry, how she burned when I talked about my marriage which was bound to happen soon. I see her missing me just as painfully as I did.

I see the fateful night. An event had been held, with all the elites of the surrounding kingdoms in attendance. I was not in town and wasn't expected to be back soon but I reached early and decided to attend. I wore simple garb, enough to pass for a noble but not enough to be seen as I was, someone who's lived amongst royalty her whole life. It was something of a masquerade, and we all had masks on. Somehow i ended up near Aziza. I was drawn by her voice. She turned and did not recognise me. How could she, it had been almost a year since we last sat and talked properly, a month since the last letter, and I was wearing a mask. I spoke differently so that she didn't know it was me and talked with her the whole time, flirted more like. I only had tonight to talk with her as if I was a lover, a suitor and not a friend.

Almost. Prince Aarya, the one who'd organised this, had added a twist to the rules. At the stroke of midnight, everyone would reveal themselves and see who they'd been talking to. I hadn't thought about that as I went to talk to Aziza. I heard the clocks chime and realised my mistake. She can never know its me I think It will ruin everything.

I run, and she chases after me. I run away from the party and into the silent garden. Aziza is behind me, asking me to wait. She stops shouting and just runs and the only sound is her footfall and the tinkling of my anklets.

Then, my foot got stuck in a bush and the payal came undone. There was no time to retrieve it however so I ran. Hopefully she doesn't check the bush I think. She did check the bush though and now I'm glad she did.

She's holding out my payal in her hand now.

"Teri payal ki chan chan mere dil mein hai. Kahi bhi pehchaan sakti hu." She says

"So whaddya say, marry me? I despise mathematics." She whispers the last part and I cry and fall into her arms.

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tagging some people i think would like this maybe -

@didyouputyournameinthegobi @supermeh-krishnah @psycho-mocha @titlishu `@oliviarodrigio @stars-triumphant @hyacinthus-the-flower @weird-u @quacky-keenu @dimplesnanon @yyouromeo @desi-nas-x @thepanipurisimp @ifuckedthewickedwitchofthewest

[ukrainianstruggles]

One day I'll be as good as the poets I study are

[literaturebf]

i wrote something. i got emotional thinking about neil winning the olympic gold with andrew and kevin, so this happened:

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they win the olympic gold and neil's legs almost give out right there. they win the olympic gold and the crowd is cheering, he's hugging kevin and he's laughing.

he's a world champion, he realizes, as kevin squeezes him one more time before running towards andrew at the end of the court. neil is quick to follow. he's a world champion and he's on top of the world.

he stands next to andrew, taking care not to touch because even if they aren't as verbal with their yes or no's and even if physical affection isn't such a foreign concept anymore, healing is a process and he doesn't want to take anymore than andrew is willing to give, especially not right now.

his eyes do find andrews though, because they always will. he's staring at him with the same expression on his face as always, but his eyes are shining the smallest bit (it would be unnoticeable if neil did not know him so well) and he links his pinky with neil's and tugs, holding on for a second before letting go.

we won, it says. we did it. we beat the odds.

andrew is leaning on his racquet as kevin congratulates him, his expression betraying nothing. kevin has learned how to read him by now though, even if it did take years. neil can tell by the way his eyes brighten when he notices that andrew is listening, and taps their racquets together before turning to the crowd.

when they finish with the press, kevin and neil head back to the centre of the court, andrew close behind. all of the original foxes, his family, come sprinting onto the court. there's barely any time to breathe before he's being swept up in hugs and tears and cries of joy, and neil feels like he's back at PSU, having won against the ravens all over again.

dan and matt are looking at him with tears in their eyes and pride written all over their faces. nicky is smiling, wide and loud as he squeezes neil's arm and nods to andrew. (andrew nods back) allison runs a hand through his hair and laughs, a sound of pure joy as she pulls neil in to her side. renee gives him a serene smile and after a careful look, pats andrew on the back in congratulations. aaron nods at both of them, knocks his shoulder against andrew's, once. it is not much, but it's enough.

kevin is hugging wymack, who tells them in a gruff voice how proud he is of them. kevin is smiling, a big carefree smile that has nicky crying all over again.

the world is cheering and as neil raises his racquet to the crowd, he thinks: you didn't take this from me, dad. i got here and i did this and i have a family and i have a home and i have andrew and you didn't get to take that away.

[yuripitt]

Praise kink live in the ER

[yuripitt]

Victoria trying to seduce Cassie.........

Victoria who chooses to forgo her undershirt that day wearing only her scrubs. Victoria who tells Cassie that she feels a stinging pain just under her scrubs neckline so she has no option but to pull her scrub top down as Cassie places her fingers and prods the area a bit finding nothing.

Victoria who then pulls her scrub pants lower before fetching her notepad which accidentally fell down and she has to bend down right in front of Cassie's face exposing her smooth brown skin to the resident.

Victoria who then stands across from Cassie observing a patient and she has to bend down to check the breathing and in the process it exposes her cleavage to the older woman whose gaze is directed to the inside of Victoria's top. Transfixed.

And what does she find there? Oh, it's a white lacy bra with flowers details and Cassie has to grip the patient bed railing to stop her hands from reaching the girl. And then Cassie spends the entire shift wondering if she pulled down the girls bottoms will she find matching lacy white panties or not.

[yuripitt]

Robby tells Langdon that shaming, belittling and insulting leads to nowhere and that harassment has zero educational value because he insulted Trinity while he himself continues to do all the above things to Samira like what a fucking hypocrite