(disclaimer: please don't take this as stereotyping this is just for prompts besties)
the lukhnawi lover boi: loves cats would die for cats would kill for cats, will tell their mom about you, rings 👀, pinching their nose bridge, a tight black kurta they can't let go of, makes the best maggi you can think of, raises eyebrows teasingly whenever you give them a compliment, plays gully cricket with kids, *scrunches nose*, can't talk about you without blushing uncontrollably, tapri ki chai™, plays atleast one instrument, pleading puppy face, gifted you jhumkas once hasn't recovered from the precious look on your face yet, will nuzzle in your neck after a hard day, "let's compare hands na"
the bande bula dunga behenchod: old delhi, or as they put it "shahjahanabad hota hai yaar", chicken kadhi ka kurta, scribbled post-it notes with little hearts for you, kulhad koffee go brrrrr, is best friend with the vegetable vendor, kebab dates, *massages jaw very segsy*, black denim, partner & low-key bully, whistles when you check yourself out in an fit, middle finger, pro at dumb charades, calls you their gulab jamun, very politely asks you at 4 in the morning to come with him for a highway ride (you say yes obviously), gives you cute messy pottery mugs, says behenchod a LOT. *loosens tie*, kisses your tears away, will get into a fight with their parents for you
the bhai coolers are way better than acs okay: probably from west india, listens to rag artists makes you listen you raag artists now you love raag artists, runs on terrace dances on terrace type, you have a bandhani chunni, lehriya chunni, malmal chunni at this point you think they're a chunni smuggler, PANI PURI DATES, manically tells pani puri bhaiyya "aur teekha banao maza nai aaya", dozes off in your lap, has a cute pout, rubs his eyes like a schoolboy after waking up, makes fruit salad for you, "my clothes are your clothes only", aloo bhujia enthusiast, makes you rethink life choices when they wink at you, bakes you cupcakes,
the did you put four pleats in the saree or five because like i wanna match: gives you forehead massages, "istg if you say lungi dance is your favourite south indian song one more time even as a joke i will literally break up with you", probably smokes but in a cool vintage poet way, long hugs, *launches themselves into the bed stomach first*, the softest cotton shirts you can think off, leaves rice on balcony for pigeons, park dates, thumb caresses, sleeps on your shoulder on bus rides, will cradle you like a baby after a hard day, bought a gajra for you one day and almost fainted from the smile on your lips, plays uno with you till 2 a.m. looses majestically, *touches toes under the family dinner table*
the thand lag jaayegi tumhe: holds a hand out for you, dirty jokes while almost going to sleep that cause you to snort and literally die from laughing, big fat sibling bully, a yellow light bulb lamp on their desk, braids your hair even if it's not long enough to braid, rogue-ish smile, squishes your face together just because, pastel mufflers, warm hands but cold af feet, loves to play cards, always looses in cards, gently moves your hair out of your eyes, lots of flannel and joggers pants, *cries in can't eat softies without getting a throat itch*, human embodiment "jhatak kar zulf jab tum tauliye se baarishein aazaad karti ho, accha lagta hai", makes you flustered very easily, god complex AND insecure, pakode, palm kisses, wears this watch you gifted him everywhere, "i love you very much jaan but if you eat my oreos again i'll push you off a cliff"
Thinking about the death of subcultures. Like I haven’t seen any goth kids or punks or any obvious subcultural movements in years. And obviously part of that is just cultural change, but when I think of modern subcultures the only thing I can think of are those tiktok alternative people, like egirls, but there isn’t that sense of a real “scene” going on with their own lifestyles and music and events, like lived experience that’s shared. I feel like what we might call modern subcultures are all reduced to mere aesthetics and they’re all mostly online, and they all look way too pretty – their make up is always perfect and their clothes are perfectly aesthetic and there’s none of that deliberate freakishness going on; literally grunginess itself has been commodified. There’s none of the real expression of confusion and anger that came with growing up in a world that you felt on some level was fucked up but you couldn’t express why, so you expressed it by dressing like a freak, by looking kinda deliberately out of place. I want that spirit back because this is what subcultures were about. Let’s bring back real subculture, not the alienated commodified version that’s based on aesthetics and has been reduced to social media, but the kind where you actually go out looking completely unhinged on purpose to disrupt. The kind where you meet other people and feel a sense of empowerment in your willing difference from the mainstream, and by that I mean the kind that is explicitly anticapitalist.
happy samhain
<3333
Everyone: —
Veer: (ง'̀-'́)ง (ง'̀-'́)ง (ง'̀-'́)ง
Saba: *exists*
Veer: ໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७
soo since its teacher's day i decided to text my fav teacher. she used to be my french teacher before she moved to Quebec.(i swear she is literally a ray of sunshine, she changed my life, she is my keating) so i was telling her about how things are dreadful here in Dhaka and that im fliping out over my igcse exams. then she said that she knows whatever the situation is i can handle it and she just instantly lifted my mood. like yes, now im energized. im always in awe of how easily she always makes me feel better. im just so grateful to her. wish there were more teachers who really make a difference.
loose, foot loose, put on your fuckin foot loose, feet, foot feet, dance on your fucking feet
y
a
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everything fawad khan and zayn do are for the girls,the gays, and the desi salon shops thats it
that urge to climb the rooftop of ur house. where does it come from.
a blog: *follows me*
me, an aged monarch lounging on my fur-strewn throne, gesturing for my servant to bring me my monacle: Bring them here! Bring them here, I say. Let me look at them.
guards: *drag the unwitting blog before me*
me, peering intently at the new blog and poking them with my scepter: Is this a real person? Hmm? What have you to say for yourself? What are your fandoms? Your interests? Speak up, these old ears aren’t what they used to be.
guards, tentatively: they do seem to be a real person, sire. We found them in possession of several memes and a fandom rant.
me, subsiding back into my sumptuous furs and waving them away: most extraordinary. It has been an age since there was a real person, but just as well, the dungeons have been overflowing with those tacky pornbots. This newcomer may remain in my domain. Make them welcome. And fetch me a quill! I feel a ficlet coming on…