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.
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one of my favourite thangyu dynamics to think about is thanos being the more outwardly flirty and confident one in public and always making direct and bold moves on namgyu and dropping pick up lines and acting all confident when they’re around others vs when namgyu flirting back when they’re alone, whispering things into thanos’ ear and touching thanos in all his sensitive places and getting very flirtatious and suggestive but only for thanos’ eyes and thanos getting all flustered and tongue tied about it, which only amuses namgyu more as he looks up and thanos and smiles and asks “what happened to all that talk from earlier, hm?” yes yes yes delicious thangyuism right there
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I’ll never forget the fanfic space on wattpad back in 2016-2017’ish where its culture was that writers would not post their new chapters until they reached x amount of votes (kudos) and comments. I mean I’d never judge anyone for how they chose to update their fics even though I didn’t agree with them. but like. it was the entire wattpad fanfic culture back then that made most writers believe they had to set these specific numbers of votes and comments that they must reach first before they posted the next chapters. so if you were on the fanfic corner of wattpad during that time, you’d most likely have seen fics where it said in the chapter something like “50 votes and 20 comments for the next chapter!” and it was literally the norm and so normalized that I didn’t see anything weird about it back then. but looking back, years after I’ve left wattpad for ao3, yeah that culture as a whole was weird and it shaped writers into thinking that they wrote for the sake of shallow engagement instead for the joy of getting to create, it shaped writers into thinking that their fics’ worth was decided and dictated by strangers’ approval. and then tiktok became a thing and this mindset continued. not to mention how wattpad is full of ads now unless you pay the site monthly for a premium, ad-free service.
so like. man, this is why I love ao3. there’s none of these capitalism or algorithm bullshit on ao3. just writers creating out of love and passion. everybody say thank you ao3
Imagine a BDSM setting and when you put me over your knee to spank me I start sobbing uncontrollably saying I'M SORRY MOMMY 😭😭 I'M SORRY 😭😭 because apparently you've unearthed some trauma from my childhood and then Optimus Prime comes in and he's like Put the little guy down. And you're so intimidated by this gigantic robot alien that you drop me and I fall to the ground with a splat and go plugh and Optimus Prime picks me up and pulls my pants back up and then he just obliterates you and says it's okay. Let's go. And he holds my hand and we go back to the base and he ungirths his 7 feet long spike and I go WOOOAAHHH and he's like do not fear. I just wanted you to see what you could have had if you were not a Whore. And then he vaporizes me where I stand and I get reincarnated as Starscream and now I have to deal with Megatron's bumass
📬 ❤︎ ot5 𝔁 6th member!fem!reader ─── ৻ꪆ every time the clock strikes 11:30 pm, you all sit down for some girl talk.
❤︎ warnings+tags ─── ৻ꪆ jamesyn established relationship <3
💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ these cuties bruhhhh
❤︎ wc ─── ৻ꪆ 2.2k
𝄞 𓏸 my cortispilledmasterlist »﹙合﹚
❝ tracklist ❞ ─── our summer—txt ❦ tfw—enha ❦ lucky to be loved—tws ❦ drama—aespa ❦ off the record—ive ❦ you were beautiful—day6
every single night, without fail, after the grueling practice schedules, the long showers, and approximately seventeen near-death experiences caused by seonghyeon and keonho being left unsupervised together, the six of you would inevitably gather in the living room. it had become an actual routine; an unspoken rule you’d followed starting at 11:30 pm every night: ‘girl talk time,’ you’d collectively named it, despite the glaring biological fact that only one girl was present in the group. the first time someone pointed that out, james had simply shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘girl talk is a state of mind.’ nobody had questioned it since.
☆
tonight, the room was a canvas of comfortable chaos, everyone scattered around the floor. martin was making hot chocolate. juhoon was folded inside a blanket burrito. keonho was upside down on the sofa for reasons nobody understood. james was sitting beside you, one arm around your waist. you were painting the nails of his other hand a shade that matched yours. seonghyeon was dramatically sighing, which usually meant he had gossip.
“what happened?” martin made the mistake of asking.
immediately he sat up. “oh my god.”
the room collectively perked up like hungry wolves.
“what?”
“what happened.”
“tell us.”
“i walked into studio 7b today,” he started slowly.
“damn.”
the reactions came immediately.
“no way.”
“again?”
“not 7b, damnnn.”
seonghyeon pointed dramatically into the air. “i saw two of our sunbaes holding hands.”
the room exploded.
“who?”
“who?”
“drop the names.”
“i’m not naming names.”
“booooo.”
“boring.”
“you suck, eom.”
“...fine! one of them was niki hyung.”
“i knew it!”
“let’s get it, hyung!”
james grabbed a cushion to settle in, shifting you so that you were in a more comfortable position against him. “continue.”
the next hour consisted entirely of tea—company tea, friend group tea, just about anything.
“i saw one of the new trainees get rejected and she immediately called and told three different people saying she was ‘too busy to date anyway.’”
the room screamed.
“no!”
“dude, that’s hella embarrassing.”
“that’s insane, damn.”
then martin contributed—”i heard one of the dance instructors accidentally called one of the idols by their ex’s name.”
the room nearly collapsed under the weight of the collective uproar. keonho literally rolled off the sofa onto the hardwood floor. you couldn’t breathe from laughing.
“no.”
“no way!”
“oh my god, actually?!”
meanwhile james was crying, or laughing, or both, into your shoulder, his whole body shaking with amusement.
☆
other days, inevitably, the conversation shifted like it always did. from gossip, to life, to feelings, to whatever happened to be bothering someone. tonight the focus was you, because you were curled up under a blanket looking miserable. james noticed first. his hand immediately found yours under the fabric.
“you okay?”
you groaned. “no.”
“what happened?”
“my period.”
instant sympathy radiated from all five boys around you. every single one of them immediately looked concerned, shifting the collective atmosphere instantly. even after knowing about it for so long, they still reacted like you’d been diagnosed with something terminal.
“bad?” juhoon asked slowly.
“so bad.”
“how bad?” seonghyeon chimed in.
“imagine somebody put barbed wire around your organs.”
the room collectively winced and ‘ooof’d.
“and twisted it constantly. again and again.”
“oh.”
“and then ripped it out all at once.”
“what the fuck.”
“and repeat it for a week.”
“that’s actually horrible, what the fuck?”
“every month.”
james looked genuinely upset, pulling you a little closer. “baby.”
“i’m fine,” you muttered.
“you don’t sound fine.” martin nudged your leg with his.
“okay, whatever. i’m not. this world sucks. cramps suck. schedules suck. everything except you guys just sucks.”
the thing was—the boys had spent years learning. not because they had to. because they wanted to. at first they’d been clueless. absolutely hopeless.
now? martin already got up to make your favourite tea. juhoon was looking for heating pads. james was trying his best to gently massage your lower back. keonho was googling foods that helped cramps. seonghyeon looked personally offended at your uterus.
“this is ridiculous,” he said suddenly.
you laughed. “what is?”
“the female body. why does everything hurt you guys?”
“that’s your conclusion and question?”
“yes.”
“you train twelve hours a day and this is what you find unfair?” you laughed.
“absolutely!”
twenty minutes later, you were laying across the sofa with your head in james’ lap, and heating pad on your stomach. the boys surrounded you, just listening to you talk.
“wait,” juhoon interrupted slowly. “so it just hurts for no reason?”
“basically.”
“52 weeks every year?”
“yep.”
the room became silent.
“that's awful.”
“thank you.”
“women are stronger than soldiers. i’d pick military service over even a fraction of what you’re going through any day.”
the rest of them nodded seriously.
“you’re all ridiculous,” you burst out laughing.
☆
another night, it would be completely different, because somebody else would need help. like the time keonho developed a crush, and unfortunately made the mistake of admitting it in front of all of you. the room immediately transformed into an interrogation room.
“who is she?”
“what’s her name?”
“when do james and yn meet her parents?”
“when did this happen?”
keonho looked terrified while you looked absolutely delighted.
“oh we’re doing this?” you grinned, cracking your knuckles.
“we’re doing this.” james high-fived you.
three hours later, the boys were still asking questions, treating your answers like divine knowledge—drifting from keonho’s crush to girls, in general.
“what does it mean if she sends heart emojis?”
“it depends.”
“on what?”
“everything.”
“yn.”
“bro, i’m serious.”
“no wonder we’re confused.”
then, keonho asked the question of the century, “what’s the difference between the red heart and any other coloured heart?”
you nearly choked as the room froze.
“why do you all want to know the emoji differences?”
“because we’re trying to survive. the world is cruel to hopeless boys like us.”
“well, the red heart means she doesn’t really care enough to go through the trouble of finding a different coloured heart, or she just likes the original emoji.”
“that doesn’t help in the slightest.”
“ok, so you want me to stop?—”
“no! go on.”
“what’s the black heart for?” seonghyeon asked curiously.
“she probably hates you, dude,” keonho said helpfully.
“or maybe she’s just a little emo?” martin offered.
☆
the best part was that nobody made fun of anyone, not when it mattered, because somehow those late-night conversations had become the safest place in the dorm—where james asked questions he’d never ask anyone else; where juhoon talked about feeling overwhelmed; where martin admitted he worried too much; where seonghyeon confessed he hated disappointing people; where keonho admitted he got insecure sometimes, and where you could complain about cramps, bad days, weird friendships, awkward situations, and literally anything without being judged. the conversations always started with gossip, and ended with something softer… something important.
☆
the first sign that something was wrong on another night was the fact that the dorm was suspiciously quiet for nine pm. you stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at the five boys sitting around the living room—no video games. no screaming. no martin and seonghyeon arguing over absolutely nothing, just five pairs of eyes looking at you.
“…why are you all looking at me like that?”
martin immediately sat up straighter. “yn.”
“no.”
“i haven’t even asked yet.”
“no.”
“please?”
“no.”
keonho gasped dramatically. “she knows.”
“she always knows,” juhoon sighed.
you narrowed your eyes. “what do you guys want?”
the boys exchanged looks. then james finally blurted out, “they need help. more girl talk.”
you blinked twice. “...what?”
“girl talk,” seonghyeon repeated seriously.
“why? it’s still 9 pm. we have two more hours left.”
“well…”
“why are you asking me right now?”
“because you’re a girl.”
you stared. the boys stared back. you stared harder.
“that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.”
“please,” juhoon said. “we’re struggling.”
“struggling with what?”
“women.”
immediately you turned around. “nope.”
“yn!”
“good luck.”
“yn!”
ten minutes later you were trapped—literally trapped. they’d dragged every cushion and beanbag into the living room and formed what looked like a hostage negotiation circle. you sat in the middle, the boys surrounding you like a group of kindergarten students.
“okay,” you sighed. “what exactly do you need?”
four hands shot up. james sat calmly beside you, his hand gravitating to your waist.
“oh my god.”
“me first,” keonho yelled.
“no.”
“me,” seonghyeon interrupted.
“no.”
“me!” juhoon tried, letting go of his fake nonchalance.
“no.”
martin raised his hand politely. you pointed at him. “yes.”
“sometimes girls say they’re fine.”
“yes.”
“but they’re not fine.”
“yes.”
“how do you know?”
the others immediately nodded, hanging onto your every word.
“a very important question,” one of them added.
“groundbreaking research,” another said.
you rubbed your temples. “okay. usually you can tell from the tone.”
“so if she says she’s fine?”
“mhm.”
“she isn’t fine?”
“exactly.”
“...but she said she was.”
“yes.”
“so she’s not?”
“correct.”
all four boys looked absolutely horrified. “that makes no sense.”
“it makes perfect sense.”
“it literally doesn’t.”
“martin,” you said, turning to look at him. “imagine james says he’s over losing a game of league.”
james immediately scoffed. “baby, i’m always over it.”
“you cried over mario kart two days ago, by the way,” juhoon pointed out helpfully.
“that was different.”
martin’s eyes widened as the realization hit the room.
“oh.”
“ohh.”
“ohhhhh.”
twenty minutes later, the questions somehow got worse.
“what’s the difference between cute and handsome?”
“depends.”
“on what?”
“everything.”
“that’s not an answer.”
“it is.”
“it absolutely isn’t.”
juhoon leaned forward. “okay, okay. if a girl says your outfit is cute.”
“good. but also, which blind girl called your skinny jeans cute?”
“shut up. what if she says you’re handsome?”
“also good, obviously.”
“if she says you’re funny?”
“good. even better.”
“if she says you’re annoying?” the entire group looked at seonghyeon.
you immediately burst out laughing. “why are you all looking at him?”
“because it happens a lot,” martin answered.
“very frequently.”
“almost daily.”
seonghyeon looked deeply offended. “i have fans, okay?”
“you annoy them affectionately,” james clarified.
an hour later, the conversation had completely derailed into late-night… somethings.
“would you rather date someone funny or handsome?” one of them asked.
“funny,” you replied without hesitation
the boys froze.
“what?”
“funny.”
“not handsome?”
“i didn’t say not handsome.”
“then why funny?”
“because if someone’s funny, i can look at them forever.”
the room became suspiciously silent. you looked up from your spot. they were all sitting straighter.
“stop.”
“no one said anything.”
“you’re all thinking something.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
james literally pulled out his notes app, his fingers tapping on the screen. “funny.”
“james, oh my god.” you hid your face in your hands.
“ok, but james is unfunny and ugly. what gives, yn?”
“shut up.”
then somehow the conversation shifted to crushes. you made a mistake—a terrible, catastrophic mistake. because the moment you casually mentioned that most girls usually remember tiny details about people they like, they all exploded again.
“what tiny details?”
“everything.”
“be specific.”
“like favourite drinks, favourite colours, things they mention once—”
they all looked terrified, staring at you like you were a different species. “once?”
“yes.”
“one time?”
“yes.”
“yn.”
“hmm?”
“women are scary.”
“thank you.”
by midnight the boys had learned absolutely nothing, or maybe too much. you couldn’t tell.
they were all sprawled around the living room floor, half asleep. you were resting against the sofa. juhoon was under a blanket. james was lying face-down on the carpet. martin and keonho were arguing quietly in the corner. seonghyeon was sitting beside you. the atmosphere was warm, comfortable, home.
then juhoon suddenly spoke into the quiet room. “can i ask one last question?”
“sure.”
“do girls actually like flowers?”
“of course.”
the boys nodded thoughtfully.
“okay.”
“noted.”
“good information.”
“useful.”
then keonho looked over, his expression serious. “what do girls like most?”
you thought for a second, looking at their tired faces, then smiled. “honestly?”
“yeah.”
“being listened to.”
the room went completely quiet.
“that’s it?”
“pretty much.”
“no secret formula?”
“no.”
“no cheat code?”
“no.”
“no complicated mission?”
“not really, no.”
the boys exchanged looks. then seonghyeon groaned dramatically from his spot. “that’s so much harder.”
you laughed so hard you nearly fell off the sofa, and within seconds the others were laughing too. the sound filled the corners of the messy dorm—loud, chaotic, and comfortable, exactly like every night with your five extremely stupid, extremely lovable boys.
☆
one night, long after everyone should’ve been asleep, you found yourself looking around the room. five sleepy boys. half under blankets, half asleep, still listening to each other, still talking.
james was tracing circles against your hand absentmindedly, martin was yawning, juhoon was asleep sitting up, and keonho was using seonghyeon as a pillow. nobody wanted to go to bed and break the spell of the evening.
“this is probably my favourite part of being in cortis.” you smiled.
the room grew quiet. james looked down at you.
“the fame?”
“no.”
“the money?”
“no.”
“then what?”
you looked around the living room, at your family, at your idiots, and smiled. “just… you guys.”
james kissed the top of your head while the others grinned half-asleep like they’d just won an award. and honestly? maybe they had.
because not everyone got five best friends who wanted to understand every little part of your world—even the parts they’d never experience themselves. and somehow, every night, squeezed together in a messy dorm living room, they made sure you never had to carry any of it alone.
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mr. mackey: the other students have described you as uh...
kyle broflovski: tempestuous?
mr. mackey: uh, "heinous bitch" is the most popular used term, mmkay.
kyle broflovski: *smiles to himself*
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The strange grief that comes with finally getting better. The grief of all the built up anger finally loosening its grip. The grief of all the things you didn’t do and all the things you did do when you were going through something. The grief in knowing. The grief in knowing healing doesn’t give you your lost time back. The grief in knowing that healing is as much a process of loss as it is one of gain. You’re allowed to grieve your healing. As strange as it sounds, getting better often means mourning the version of yourself that had to survive it. But don’t forget that version of you is cheering louder than anyone for your healing. They’re so proud of you. I’m so proud of you.
femboy namgyu ☆☆ @thangyupilled - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
