#Indian mothers

[aahanna]

INDIAN MOMS ARE SO CLEVER !!!!!

They won't share the secret face glow tips throughout our whole life

But as soon as their daughter's marriage is fixed they make you glow like 'Jugnu ' with their secret homemade beauty secrets 💀

[shaadiwish]

Whether our mothers get inspired by Bollywood moms or Bollywood mothers are characterised based on real life mothers.

[valar-did-me-wrong]

My mother starting Rings of Power as a new Tolkien viewer-

Galadriel: THE Lady

Elrond: her Prince boyfriend (elrondriels you are winning)

Gil galad: "I've seen someone wear that dress in _____'s wedding"

Harfoots: kids, all of them

Stranger: grilled chicken man

Halbrand: the titanic guy

Arondir: Shahrukh Khan

(I want you all to know that's the BIGGEST PRAISE you can get for romantic acting here)

Bronwyn: "she can become a Bollywood heroine anyday"

Theo: "he's got your hair from 1st standard" (��)

Durin: royal dwarf

Disa: "gold suits her, she'll look so pretty in our jewellery!"

(long winding discussion on how Disa needs more hair jewellery, definitely a maangtika)

[kibutsulove]

hello all depressed urzai fans

[bonefall]

There's speculation that Floatshimmer's kits are Graysky's, since one of the kits are silver like him, you know, the dude that was made a warrior when she was a kit.

To be fair, Graysky is ridiculously young as well. He might have been described as being ready to be a warrior at the start of ASC, but he was born in Lost Stars and is only a little over a year old at the end of the last arc.

EVERYONE got hit with the Time Travel Beam... in fact. Funfact: RiverClan actually has always had a weird issue with their allegiance cats aging really fast.

Anyway, digressing. If it does pan out to have Graysky as the father...

Eventually I like the idea of Floatshimmer and Graysky being a couple (their names make me think of bright sunshine on a cloudy day, making the waves of the lake twinkle with light), but absolutely not while they're so young. Both of them need at least another year or so.

(At the earliest, have their kits mid-arc, ideally later.)

That said, I'm still willing to shuffle them both a bit to be closer in age. I'm growing interested in the idea that they're like, the cat equivalent of 18 and 19-ish. Young, dumb, impulsive, ended up with kittens looong before they were ready and it's impacting their relationship negatively.

Still deciding, though.

[read-write-thrive]

part 1

“Waiting for the other shoe to drop”, while pessimistic, seemed to be a running theme in Charles Rowland’s life. It wasn’t really a phrase he heard when he was alive, to be fair, but at some point he’d come across it (probably hanging out with too many Americans, but can’t remember for sure) and it felt a little too much accurate. His dad’s come home angry again? Time to wait for the fallout. He’d gotten written up at school for not paying attention? Just a disaster waiting to happen. He goes against his best mate’s advice? There he goes, literally torn from Charles’s arms and back to hell, just as he’d said. Maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but that’s the gist.

The looming anxiety of it all usually slid off of him for the minor stuff, and was otherwise bottled up and shoved far away for the heavier stuff, but regardless he didn’t let it show. Have to keep up appearances and all. He’d only had one real instance of all those emotions blowing up (and he still blames the Night Nurse for all that mess) so he thought he was doing a bang-up job keeping himself together.

That was until his dad died. Yeah, it was rough, and he ended up berating the old man on his death bed, which probably was a shitty thing to do. And yeah, he’d needed a bit of a cry afterwards. So what? Blokes cried sometimes, and he was man enough to admit to his emotions and all that. The girls had done a good job of emphasising that he (and, mostly, Edwin) needed to express their emotions more. That it was healthier to let it out than bottle it all up. Not sure if they still needed healthy habits as ghosts, but it wasn’t hurting anyone. Just a little uncomfortable.

All that to say, it felt like his friends had been treading on eggshells around him ever since his dad died. Which was infuriating, yeah, but also didn’t make sense to him. Especially after he’d already cried—did they expect him to get angry again? To blow up over a dead man? He thought he’d gotten it out of his system just fine, so getting these weird vibes was starting to stress him out more than anything. He’d resolved to bring it up on their next movie night and ask why they were acting funny—didn’t want to mess up a case, after all.

However, he didn’t get the chance before it all came crashing down on his head. Ultimately, Edwin was the messenger.

“Charles, I—“ he took an unnecessary breath, “Have you checked on your mother lately?”

His undead heart went cold, but his default smiley ways were still stuck on, “Not really, why?”

Edwin’s eyes were sad, which was never good. He didn’t emote unless it was serious, “I think you need to visit her. She’s not faring well.”

And so they went. Turns out everyone hadn’t been waiting for Charles to blow up, but rather for his mother to pass and then for him to break down all over again. Edwin had been checking on her daily since his father’s passing, deducing correctly that Charles would be too swept up in the emotions around his dad dying to remember that his mum wasn’t getting any younger.

The girls weren’t free until the evening, but they promised to stay in touch and maybe visit later if they could (particularly if they could figure out how to visit the Hospice without rousing suspicion). And so Edwin and Charles were on their own.

Charles had rushed into the room, as if running at the issue would evade the emotions of it, or as if getting there quickly would reveal it was all a lie—neither of which were true.

Instead, he was face to face with a dying woman with some resemblance to the photo on the mantle in the house he grew up in—his grandmother, or maybe his great grandmother, or some favourite aunt, he couldn’t remember anymore— hair gone fully white, pulled back into a tight bun so as to keep her curls controlled, keeping her gaunt, sleeping face exposed. Unlike that photo, this woman was in a hospital gown, tucked into sterile sheets, with a tube under her nose to help her breathe. Gone were her usually loud and ornate earrings, her bare fingernails stained from years of colour. There was a singular blanket laid across her lap, on top of the sheets, that almost looked more familiar than the woman it covered. It was her, but apparently he hadn’t stopped to just look at her any time recently, if ever. It felt too much like looking at a ghost, as ironic as that felt.

She was awake, but halfway to dozing. There was someone at her side, adjusting the blanket and murmuring reassurances in what was definitely Punjabi. It had been so long since he’d heard it, added to having never properly learned anything besides English under the threat of his father, that he couldn’t make out the words. That realisation left a stinging feeling in his chest.

“A relation of yours?” Edwin asked at a whisper, coming up to stand beside Charles, almost entirely copying his position from that fateful hospital room. It didn’t seem as if either of the room’s living occupants had noticed them.

Charles blindly reached for Edwin’s hand for comfort, not looking away from the scene in front of him and matching his partner’s volume, “No idea. Don’t think I’ve seen them before.”

Edwin hummed, “Perhaps a little too young to have met you. Or someone your mother reconnected with recently—“

“I’m not really in the mood for deductions, love.” Charles said, not unkindly. Everything felt too fragile to be picked apart like that.

“Right. Apologies.” Edwin squeezed his hand and went quiet.

Charles squeezed his hand back in forgiveness, joining in the silence. He kept going back to what the stranger was saying, familiar consonants both soothing and devastating. What kind of a son was he, failing to comfort his dying mother, unable to speak her mother tongue, a stranger to his relatives? His tears were thankfully silent.

It took much longer for his mother to see them than his father. Several days passed, with the mystery relative coming and going more days than not, and the usual nurses and caregivers administering various care. Over time, the boys (the girls couldn’t figure out how to enter the space, but were supportive from their distance) had learned that the stranger’s name was Sangeeta, and she was a niece of his mother’s who’d noticed her steady decline and was the one to take her to hospital and then to hospice care. Charles’s mother had apparently stopped taking care of herself after her husband’s death, and she had refused other care, so at this point all they could do was make her comfortable. Charles spent a whole morning ranting to Edwin about it, how unfair it was that her life was so tied up in his asshole father’s that she wasn’t even trying to live after he was gone. Edwin, the deeply kind person he was, had let Charles rant until he ran out of steam, then gently pointed out that she’d been under the thumb of his father for far longer than Charles was, and that she’d now had to mourn her husband and her only child, which presumably takes a toll. Charles had started crying before Edwin had even finished talking, and Edwin had held him close on the plush sofa for the rest of the day.

It was hard to tell if it was a comfort or not when she finally saw them, but Charles decided that wasn’t important to think about right now, if ever. Right now, his mother could see him for the first time in forty years, and they didn’t know for how much longer. And yet, with all this time to prepare, he still found himself speechless when the time finally came.

“Mere laal,” She beat him to the punch, eyes glazed over but clearly locked on Charles, “I am glad to see you again, beta. It’s been so long.”

Charles let out a shakey breath, “Hi, mum. It’s—well— it’s been longer for you. I’ve visited a few times, over the years.”

She reached out a sinewy hand on a bone-thin arm, and Charles flew to the seat by her side, keeping his focus to make sure his hand stayed solid in her grasp. He vaguely noticed Edwin taking the seat beside him.

“Such a handsome boy. You were so young.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Charles, all anxious energy and nerves, tears of his own threatening to spill, was quick to respond, “It’s alright, mum, I’m alright. No need to cry over me.”

She huffed, “Nonsense. You were the light of my life. Who else should I cry over?”

They were both crying at this point, tears streaming as they sniffled in turns. Edwin laid a careful hand on Charles’s back in a show of comfort.

However, that seemed to give Charles an idea, “No, really mum, it’s okay! See the bloke next to me? His name’s Edwin, and he’s been by my side all these years! He’s the one who first found me, and we’ve been helping people ever since. It’s been aces. Not sad one bit.”

Edwin stiffened at the mention, then all but froze when her eyes turned to him. He knew he looked night and day from Charles, and if he started talking she was bound to find him as abrasive as everyone always did, so why had Charles pointed him out!? If ghosts could sweat, Edwin would be drowning in his nerves.

Her gaze stayed on him for a long moment before she broke the silence, “He’s been good to you? Not like those other boys.”

Edwin wasn’t sure what to do with that, but thankfully Charles was quick on the uptake, “Not like them at all. He’s— he’s the best, mum. None of those tossers could even compare.”

“Because the boys— the ones who—“

Charles gripped her hand, “I know, I know. He’s a genuinely good person, Edwin. I was bad at picking friends in life, but thankfully I chose well with this one.”

His attempt at joking was overlooked completely by her, “Those boys, how could they do that? I knew their families, John Parish’s mother went to your funeral… Such cruel boys…”

“I’m alright, mum, I’m okay.” Charles kept going, smiling even as the tears continued, “It’s all in the past.”

“I should’ve fought harder for you… kept you close… mere laal, taken from me…” She was sobbing, her whole frame shaking with hiccoughs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles took a steadying breath, “You know I couldn’t have stayed in that house, mum. And no one could’ve known those lads would go that far…”

Her sobs were worse for a moment, then stilled suddenly as she fought for oxygen. She coughed weakly.

At that, Charles’s crying intensified, despite all he did to keep himself together. He could tell. He knew what was coming. It was still devastating to see. Edwin pulled him in for a proper side hug, taking care not to jostle his grip on his mum.

This did not go unnoticed, and the dying woman suddenly smiled, as if the devastation was forgotten with the oxygen. She looked back to her son, “I am glad you have been happy, beta. You deserved happiness.”

“I’m happy, I’ve been so happy mum, I promise,” Charles tried to calm himself down, stuck in his reassuring her.

“Mere laal, light of my life, darling boy,” She breathed with difficulty, smile dropping, “Can you forgive me? I failed you…”

Charles’s frame shook with his vigorous nodding, “I forgive you, mum, you did the best you could, I love you so much—“

Her weak smile returned, glinting in the lamplight of the evening room, “Thank you, beta. You were too good for me, for this world…”

“All because of you, I swear it, all thanks to you—“

“Charles.”

“I love you, I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son, I’m could’ve been better, gotten you out of that house—“

“Charles, darling.”

“You deserved better, I love you, I forgive you—“

“My love, the light—“

Edwin was right, a deep blue light had filled the space, illuminating the still body of his mother. Her face was pulled into a slight smile, eyes closed, as if she was having a pleasant dream, even as the tear tracks dried on her cheeks.

“No, no I’m not ready—“ Charles immediately started to protest, gripping onto her hand like a lifeline.

“Charles—“

“I only just got to see her! She only just got free of him! No, no, I won’t—“

Edwin gently but solidly grabbed under Charles’s arms, “I’m sorry my love but we should go—“

Charles was nothing but hysterics by this point, head thudding onto the sheets for a moment before Edwin fully pulled him away. He said more, but Charles was too overwhelmed to process it properly, buzzing in his ears and headache behind his eyes making him feel alive in all the worst ways. Maybe it was just the first time he had cried this hard in his afterlife, or maybe being this close to an active death did something to their physiology—

Everything was a blur as they returned to the flat, Edwin all but carrying him through the mirror so that he wouldn’t get lost on the way. They collapsed onto the sofa, extra large cushions taken up by their ghostly presences. The girls were already there, and joined into the cuddle pile without another word (or perhaps with a few, Charles still wasn’t all there yet). Edwin jostled them all slightly to better position everyone before settling in again, making sure Charles was properly surrounded.

Charles sobbed for a while longer. He wasn’t quite sure for how long, or what day it was, or if he was bothering his friends by taking up their time and space like this. His devastation had seemed to take over his entire being. But, when he did breathe a little easier, when he was finally able to sit up, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. His mom was dead, yes, but so was he, and dying had granted them both freedom from that man, from that house, from the cruelties of the world. And in his death he was surrounded by people who loved him, people who were there for him when he needed them and would still be there for him tomorrow, and the next, and the next. The other shoe had dropped, and it certainly hurt, but thankfully he had people around him to help him through it. He was truly lucky to have them.

~

hope you enjoyed this impromptu series exploring Charles and his parents and grief and loss and all those lovely things. this was inspired by the complicated emotions I have / had after my grandparents passing, and I heavily encourage you to do something similar if you’re ever struggling with these big emotions—therapists and such will say that journaling is where it’s at, but sometimes it’s easier to project onto fictional characters and that’s ok !!! and, just to drive the point home, I want to reiterate that you are loved, and there are people around you who are there to support you, I promise ❤️

also, just to make it abundantly clear, I’m a v white midwestern american and as such have vvv limited knowledge of cultural aspects of Charles’s mom—I did research and tried my best, but if I screwed anything up PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!!! same goes for Britishisms ig but mostly looking for feedback on her Punjabi and her various cultural elements :)

[benjingle]

He has the vibes okag

[oliviaalexandraamores]

[jaimeski]

Ooh, when you were young / You put all your make-up on / Sang a song of Solomon

[aahanna]

"Happy Earth Day!

Today, we celebrate our incredible planet and all its wonders. From the towering mountains to the deep oceans, Earth is our home and our sanctuary.

As we face the challenges of climate change, pollution, and biodiversity loss, it's more important than ever to come together and take action. We must reduce our carbon footprint, conserve our natural resources, and protect our precious wildlife.

Let's make a pledge to live more sustainably, to reduce our waste, and to support renewable energy. Let's plant trees, support eco-friendly policies, and educate ourselves and others about the importance of environmental conservation.

Together, we can make a difference and ensure a healthy, thriving planet for future generations.

[siriusblack-the-third]

Things James Potter Has Said

Moony either you remove your damn shoes before you enter the dorm or I Vanish them. How the fuck are they covered so much dirt, you don't even go near the Quidditch pitch!

Sirius, you will sit down and let me put your hair up in a bun or so help me Gods i will shave it all off. (*smirk* you wouldn't. You love my hair more than I do.)

I swear if Gerard (gryffindor seeker) doesn't get his shit together before the Ravenclaw match I'm going to make him cry with the amount of training I pile on his head.

No, Evans! Irving's Law clearly states that *winds off into the accurate statement of said ridiculously complicated law* and you cannot use 7x² divide the integral of y, that doesn't work here! (He's arguing NEWT Arithmancy with her)

Sirius I'm boorreedddddddd! ... *doe eyes* can we kiss? (Fuck yeah, get over here)

*stares at Sirius* that is a terrible idea... Let's do it.

REMUS! GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!

Peter, you have Charms homework. Play with Lady Charlotte (the dorm cat) after you finish that.

Sirius. No.

Remus. No.

Peter. No.

I am the only one that gives a shit about how clean the dorm is. Nobody else ever helps me. Ingrates, all of you!

Marlene I swear to fuck- just ask them out, shit's sake! (She's pining after Dorcas)

Do you think I can surf down the enchanted staircases without falling off the surfboard? (*Panicked Sirius noises*)

*scoffs* whatever the shit this is, it sure as fuck isn't tea. Fucking British people, don't even know how to make proper chai.

Gods dammit Sirius—

Remus if you don't eat everything on your plate I swear on my family's honour I will hold you down and force feed you like my mother used to do to me.

WHERE IS MY BOX SET OF THE LORD OF THE RINGS?! (Sirius hid it because James wasn't giving him attention. The trick backfired: James completely ignored him. Not for long tho; he wants kisses from Sirius.)

(Peter calls him a jock) James: *gasps in outrage* you take that back! Take that back right the fuck now, I am an out and proud nerd, how dare you—

*purrs like a cat and melts into a puddle of goo when Sirius rubs his hair and neck*

(marauders call him for a prank) nope. Not today, I'm studying. I have got to beat Lily in the Charms test tomorrow, or else I won't be able to show my face for the rest of the week out of sheer embarrassment.

Fuck's sake, Sirius! I look like I've been mauled! How am I supposed to hide the hickeys?!

Taglist:

@narcissa-black-supermacy @the-chaosbringer @in-flvx @padfootastic @gracelesslady23 @mycupofrum @fiendishfyre @prongsfoot-wolfstar @siriuslystarbucks @strwbi-laces @roalinda @manavi-meera

[thefloatingwriter]

🎁 sheaf... perhaps...

for this ask game!!

sheaf donoma, district nine’s female tribute for the 10th annual hunger games

[chai-en-kaadhale]

godawful orv animation

[jayninjago]

[roxiearth]

Latinas are beautiful and loud and crazy and are raised like that by their mothers while desi women are beautiful and have their uniqueness and rights beaten or shunned out of them by their desi mothers

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

the sole and devastating problem with monkey man is that it will literally never be able to push past the people who think the concept of the film disrespects hanuman ji to be exposed in an environment where people see it for more than its name.