#house of bols

[chappellrroan]

sometimes you need to stoop down to other peoples' level

[saanjhghafa]

Mera inner child tabhi heal hoga jab mujhe yahan jane ko milega

[kyuala]

HE TOLD US HE'D BE BACK!! YOU CAN'T BURY THE LEFT WING IN THIS COUNTRY

[townpostin]

AJSU Party Stages "Halla Bol" Protest at JNAC Office

12-Point Demand Charter Presented to Address Local Issues Demonstration highlights concerns over land, housing, and public services in Jamshedpur. JAMSHEDPUR – The AJSU Party organized a "Halla Bol" demonstration at the Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee (JNAC) office on Friday, presenting a comprehensive list of demands to the Deputy Municipal Commissioner. "The government’s policies are failing…

[shortansweet]

Why are all my friends dads the same like frikin assholes

[dsc4]

cedric is developing his baking skill rn bc of his overachiever trait (🙄). but, since he was cooking next to his husband bol, cedric wanted to impress him. cedric failed. but! his failure endeared bol. bol is like “my malewife is suffering so bad omg </3 i gotta cheer him up <3” but it kinda looks like he’s making fun of him.

meanwhile bol’s excellent quality garden salad was just born a couple minutes ago and has to watch this exchange like “right in front of my me?”

[mysticalblizzardcolor]

Hari Bol - Gaurav Aery | Tanshree Sharma | Hare Krishna | Chapter 2 | Pr...

[iactuallykissedsharawheeler]

⭑⌗ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒 + 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✶ let's go ahead and clear that idea that ellie wouldn't be like. immediately obsessed with you and giving you secret discounts on the weed.

✶ she met you five seconds ago and she was like. why would she ever pay for anything?? she's literally my reason for breathing?? (ok babe 😭) so you're getting that stuff for lowest price she can possibly make it. and if you flirt a little?? she's wondering why she's not just handing you the bag for free.

✶ when you guys get closer, she notices you're kinda into pink so when she sees pink papers???? she's SLAMMING that card, best believe. when you're freaking and like HOWD YOU GET THIS she's trying to pretend to be all cool like oh idk just found 'em and thought it'd be funny but if you like 'em you can have them ... i guess 😒

✶ if you're a little inexperienced with it she's a little protective and is like oh i don't think you should try that this one's way better and gives it to you on the house like?? you're trying to pay for it and she's like noooo it's for you just take it even though that was some of her good weed and she never gives that out. but you're nice and sweet and her bestest customer so who is she to charge you??

✶ when y'all are closer she literally just starts buying shit for you. you're like oh my gosh this bracelet is literally so pretty and next time you come over she's like so.. guess what and there's the bracelet in a box under two pretty pre-rolls (that she's also not letting you pay for btw)

✶ n you're so worried about breaking her bank when she does it but she's literally living lavish because she's everyone's dealer and no one with weed isn't getting it from her. (charismatic queen tbh)

✶ plus if you think this is gonna kill her wallet just wait until you guys start actually dating. she's not even waiting for you to ask for shit, she's telling you to put your cart on public so she can surprise you all the time.

✶ you're like babe how am i gonna pay you back and she's like just .. be pretty for me, yeah? 's not hard for you at all. (just flustered myself give me a minute)

✶ and some random things i just think she'd do:

✶ texting you high out of her mind about dinosaur facts because she just knows too much and needs to get it out immediately (she's such a nerd I love it 😭)

✶ trying to shotgun with you but she sees your face lookin' all pretty n dazed, chokes on the smoke, and just simply never does it after that. (give her a week, she'll be back)

✶ reading a shit ton of sci-fi. she compulsively reads savage starlight all the time but she's actually obsessed with the whole genre n can't exist without it atp (she DEFINITELY owns a few space cowboy books and before meeting you she would always imagine she was the lead guy with the hot love interest who was definitely some kind of alien. don't question it.)

✶ if you're a plushie girlie (me fr) she's ALWAYS buying you plushies. but she always buys one that matches yours for herself so you guys are "always together" or something. idk she's a little bit of a loser.

✶ she's so bad at keeping up with skincare but now she just weaponises that and makes you do it for her. literally rolling her eyes and pouting if you do yours without her, mumbling shit like "oh yeah, just forget about ellie, huh? that's what they all do" until you're like babe what??? 😭

✶ also i know that everyone says this but she really does own some weird ass shirts 😭😭 she'll get high and buy weird shit like that shirt that just says tomatoes it's so wild going through her closet lmaoo

✶ and because of her high shopping she also has some weird ass bongs like. seriously. there's a an astronaut one with octopus legs for sure, i can feel it.

✶ high ellie tweets>> she's actually so out of pocket sometimes 😭 some of her greatest hits would probs be

✶ also she was so nervous around you and wouldn't look you in the eye for too long because she didn't wanna scare you but then she got a little bold when she found out you liked girls and then was just straight up cocky when she realised you liked her, too (that blunt flick when dina said she wanted her to kiss her .. yeah that ellie)

✶ she's just the bestest, silliest, nerdiest girl ever and the best girlfriend literally anyone could ask for 💞💞

hey guys back with another banger hope you guys enjoyed make sure to like follow and subscribe‼️ no but seriously give me opinions because i love hearing you guys have little convos and the reposts are always so wild 😭😭 thank you new jersey, and goodnight (also don't look at the tags im shy) as alwaysss creds to @ cafekitsune bc these dividers are so mf cute

[what-even-is-thiss]

In the elder scrolls iv oblivion you generally have to go to the Daedra. You have to seek out their shrines to get their quests, you have to ask to talk to them and put work into it, you have to head to the shivering isles of your own volition. The Daedra are all over the place but Merunes Dagon trying to break into the physical world is the only one trying to butt his way into anything.

In the elder scrolls v Skyrim you’re just going about your business when you come across an orb by accident and Meridia is like hey I’ve got homework for you and then you just try to save an island of people from an evil dragon man and Hermaeus Mora is like hey you’re my new toy Dragonborn help me kill a random old man and then you help a guy inspect an abandoned house and Molag Bol is like hey I’m in this house also you’re in a cage now go kill someone for me and

[davidtennan-t]

'What I Missed'

'The Doctor ponders how much of his best friends life he missed whilst looking through family photos - and it hurts.'

Another feely Fourteen fic, set a couple of weeks after the Giggle so expect lots of angst! Can also be read on AO3

Words: 2,139

-

It was rather hectic in the Temple-Noble household.

Shaun was making supper, trying to stave off a very adamant Sylvia, who had told him three times in the last five minutes that more salt was a must for the vegan mince.

Donna was making sure Wilf didn’t over-prune the apple tree which needed cut back to stop the apples from falling into the neighbour's yard.

Rose was dipping in and out of the kitchen, having set the table amidst the mad rush and decided to take ten minutes to play a game the Doctor had downloaded onto her phone – a game supposedly from 2046.

The Doctor himself was sat alone in the quiet living room, hunched over a photo album Wilf had let him borrow for the day.

The cup of tea he’d made for himself an hour ago was now stone cold, forgotten on the coffee table. Instead, the Doctor was completely engrossed in the pictures stuck onto the smooth sheets of paper, some of them labelled, while others were harder to identify.

It had started as a nice, quaint distraction from the chaos in the kitchen - he’d only been settled in the house for two weeks, still finding his place while learning to accept his new life.

Now, however, the Doctor found his chest was growing tight, and he was finding it hard to stop his mind from spinning, as he looked through all the photos of Shaun, Donna and Rose. It was delightful to see Rose growing up in the photos, thrilling to see the achievements of the family… but it hurt. 

It hurt in a way he rarely let himself feel hurt. Every page he turned, there was the smiling face of the best friend he'd lost. 

Time was one thing he did have now, but the photos screamed to him – look how much you missed.

Eyes glazed with wetness, completely oblivious to the world around him, the Doctor missed the approaching footsteps.

Shaun appeared, as happy and cheerful as always at the living room door. He didn’t knock, and instead cleared his throat with a smile.

“Supper’s nearly ready – my famous ‘Spaggy Bol’, as the kids call it,” Shaun announced with his very favourite pair of oven mitts slotted on his hands.

“The kids don’t call it that, Dad,” Rose uttered as she passed her father by the living room door, abandoning the game to brave the kitchen. Shaun wasn’t too pressed by the information, focusing on the Doctor once again, despite still hearing Sylvia’s comments about salt from the kitchen.

“Doctor?” Shaun prodded gently – not to hurry the Doctor, but rather to ease him out of this quiet, distracted trance he could sense.

As if only realising he was sat in the middle of a house with other people, the Doctor suddenly acknowledged Shaun, glancing to the door over the top of his glasses.

It was clear the other man had missed his initial announcement, and Shaun smiled. “Supper?”

“Oh,” the Doctor replied, “sorry, yeah, I’ll be through in a tic.”

“No worries, just come through whenever you’re ready,” Shaun assured, and both men shared a quick smile before Shaun disappeared towards the hectic kitchen.

Alone again, the Doctors gaze shifted back to the page of photos on his lap, vision a little blurry. All the distant noise faded around him as his fingers traced over a photo of Donna and Rose, on what seemed to be her first day of secondary school.

How much had he missed? A lot, clearly. Humans did so much growing in such little time.

The heaviness gripping his hearts grew tenfold, as he saw a photo of a very tired looking Donna in a hospital bed, with Rose in her arms.

For her, 15 years had passed… for him, thousands, if not millions. Yet the raw wound of losing Donna sat as fresh as could be. A wound now seeping with sadness over missing so much.

Her life had continued, which was all he’d wanted for her, no matter how much it stung. He could still feel his fingers pressing against her temples as she begged for him to stop all those years ago in the console room of his ship.

Don’t make me go back… Doctor, please! No, please, no… no!

“Brainbox?”

Unlike Shaun’s voice, Donna’s voice cut through the silence like a balloon unexpectedly popping. The Doctor jumped and tensed all in one, the album nearly falling from his lap as he abruptly straightened up.

Thousands of years of being followed, stalked, hunted… Donna saw it all in her best friends’ movements, like that of a rescue dog who took time to settle, but was easily spooked.

“Hey, no need to jump a mile, it’s only me,” she reassured him. The Doctor, a tad embarrassed, rushed to close the book. Donna smiled – even if the Doctor had only been living with them for two weeks, she was so proud of Shaun for quickly picking up on when the Time Lord needed somebody. That was why she was there.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to react like that,” the Doctor clarified, “still getting used to a house, a home, people, rooms… y’know.”

Donna promptly joined the Doctor at the sofa, sitting just beside him while trying to catch a glance at what album he was looking through. Before she could ask, the Doctor was already trying to blurt out an excuse as to why he hadn’t joined them in the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean to keep you all waiting… well, didn’t realise it was… I was just-”

The nervous mumbling made Donna extend out her hand to find the Doctors, gently intertwining their fingers together and squeezing, until he stopped tripping over his words, and grew quiet with a sigh.

He didn’t like being a bumbling mess in front of anyone, but in the past few weeks, he’d found himself doing it more and more. Normally, he had the option to run away, brush off an awkward situation by tinkering with the TARDIS, or ignore a question that required him to express his feelings a little too much.

Now, it wasn’t so easy. He wasn’t in the TARDIS… he was in a living room, a house, surrounded by people.

“It’s okay, there’s no rush,” Donna said, “is this the album Grandad gave you this morning?”

There was a tear on his cheek. Donna didn’t say anything as the Doctor nodded in reply, and she simply squeezed his hand again.

What was bothering him?

Donna reached to lift the cover of the album up, revealing the first page of pictures. Immediately, it was clear which album it was – a family album, one Wilf always kept close by.

“Haven’t looked through this one in a while, myself,” Donna pondered, “I might have to borrow it off you later.”

A silence followed.

It only lasted seconds, because Donna didn’t want the Doctor to suffer in silence any longer.

“What’s wrong, Spaceman?” Donna asked gently. She kept his hand securely in hers, sure she could feel him trembling.

A heavy sigh.

No chance of running away now.

The Doctor took the album and leaned forward to place it gently on the coffee table. Then, he took his glasses from his face with a deep sniff, still oblivious to the tear on his cheek.

“I never really realised how much I missed,” the Doctor said, talking through a lump in his throat, “I know I come and go. I know I don’t often stay in one place for long, and, well, let’s be honest I do jump in and out of everybody’s lives. But all of this is different. You’ve had a child, had a life – and I’m so grateful for that. I just wish I could have been there.”

“Been there for what?” she questioned quietly, shuffling a little closer to the Time Lord.

“Everything…  you and your life. Rose being born, watching her growing up… being there for you. I feel the worst friend in the world.”

Donna smiled sadly. “I know,” she replied.

The Doctor turned his gaze to Donna quickly, having not expected an understanding answer. “You do?”

“Yes, I do, Dumbo… you don’t rekindle with an old friend – your best friend, after fifteen years and not think about all the things you’ve missed in their life. It was all I could think about that first night we brought you home.”

“You make me sound like a stray you picked up on the side of the road,” the Doctor sniffed, trying to find some humour. Donna chuckled, but didn’t want the conversation to divert.

She knew her Spaceman a little too well.

“Getting my memories back was brilliant, but the loneliness and pain I felt… knowing you’d been through all of that without me. It hurt me, y’know. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ve experienced so much happiness in all that time, even if I missed you every day. Without knowing what I was missing.”

The Doctor swallowed and opened his mouth to speak – Donna noticed his lower lip wobbling.

“I did what I did all those years ago to keep you safe,” the Doctor continued, “so you could have this life… and somehow, well, selfishly… I’m sad I missed it.”

The Doctor didn’t like to bring up erasing her memories. He saw Donna’s expression change - however, Donna felt no malice or sadness, no anger or regret.

Instead, she was grateful he was talking to her.

“Spaceman, it’s okay,” Donna whispered, letting go of his hand, but only so she could reach up to wipe away the tear still lingering on his stubbly cheek, “as much as it hurt to forget you, I’m so grateful for the life I have now. Shaun, Rose… you.”

The Doctor didn’t realise his hand was reaching up to keep Donna’s on his cheek, closing his eyes as he let the conjured grief seep from his hearts.

“I can never get that time back… I-I can never hold Rose as a baby, see her grow up, w-watch you become a m-mother-”

His voice was breaking. Donna stroked his cheek with her thumb and shushed him ever so motherly. It was hard to keep her own emotion at bay, realising how guilty the Doctor felt for missing out on her life. All those people he knew and travelled with, it was no wonder he held so much guilt. 

“Listen - you can be here now, for everything that’s still to come,” Donna assured, as if it were the most exciting prospect – because it was, “all the silly, mundane little days you never got to experience, all the fun days out, the lie-ins, the shopping, watching movies, game nights. We’re doing it now. You’re here, and I’m here. We’re together.”

Something about her reassurance made the Doctor feel instantly better. They weren't apart anymore... they were:

“Together,” he repeated quietly, almost reassuring himself that it was true.

Donna nodded silently.

Yes, he’d missed important life events, missed a lot of Donna’s life, his niece’s life… but he had a chance to be there now, to be part of their lives. Regenerating on that clifftop, he never could have predicted that two weeks later, he’d be where he was now. That was a good thing, Wilf had told him. Life was boring without surprises.

When the Doctor sort of smiled, but was clearly too overwhelmed to say anything, Donna moved her hand from his face and wrapped it around his waist. They’d hugged so many times, but each time still felt like the first.

“Come here, you big dunce,” she encouraged softly when she felt a bit of resistance, but eventually, the Doctor turned his skinny frame around and wrapped his arms around Donna, “if there’s one thing we can make up for from all that time apart, it’s hugs.”

The Doctor closed his eyes and really, truly settled into the embrace. His throat was untightening, and his eyes were a little less glazed. He sighed, but this time, it was nowhere near as heavy.

“I love you,” he uttered, as if it were the most simple phrase in existence. He wanted... no, needed her to know.

It was Donna's turn to feel her barriers breaking. She was glad her face was hidden, as tears formed and the shock of hearing those words settled. 

"I love you too, you... big, soft idiot." 

Donna rubbed his back with a smile. After a moment, they let go of each other. Donna quickly rushed to wipe the wetness from her eyes and then placed her hands on her knees. 

“Right, come on… we have some ‘Spaggy Bol’ to eat. Together.”

“That we do, Donna," the Doctor nodded, the crows feet deepening at the corner of his eyes as he smiled appreciatively at his best friend, "that we do.”

[orgasming-caterpillar]

Dancing On Your Heartstrings

Chapter 1

Ranveer POV

"Ranveer Kashyap. Sweet name, by the way."

Ranveer turned to face the boy －the eternally exhausting, exasperating boy－ and said, "Hindi bol le, angrez ki aulad."

Raghav put down his coke and feigned hurt, placing a hand above his heart. "Aap mujhe aisa kaise keh sakte hain?" he said in a dramatically British accent. 

For the nth time that day, Ranveer sighed. Why did he ever think this could work out? No- Why did the principal think this could work out. He and Raghav could never work together. The boy was simply too… draining. He was a goddamned vampire dressed in neon jackets that sucked your life force out of you. Two days with him and Ranveer was already thinking of getting a prescription of migraine meds. 

"The competition is in two weeks, Raghav. And we haven't even choreographed yet!" 

Raghav, however, didn't seem the slightest bit pressed. "So? We can choreograph in two days, practice for ten days, rehearse on the last two days. Easy."

Ranveer wanted to grab him by the neck and shove his face into chullu bhar paani. "Easy? Easy!? Easy hogi meri chappal. Tu do minute cooperate to kar. Main akela thodi kar lunga ham dono ka dance choreograph?"

"Arey bas, yaar. Chill kar na thoda. See, main kathak se related kuch choreograph karta hu, tu hip hop jaisa kuch dhundh. Dono ke genres intermix to karke kuch dynamic banate hai."

"Dynamic to apna ban jayega. Pata bhi hai BCPA ki team ne kab ki preparations shuru kar di? Aur tune aaj ka pura din waste karwa diya. Na kuch kiya na karne diya," Ranveer grumbled, shoving his feet into his shoes. He shouldered his bag and walked out of the practice room. After waiting for a while, he noticed Raghav was still in the room. "Chaliye, maharaj. Mujhe is room ko lock karke warden ko keys bhi deni hai."

Raghav was rooted in his place. This guy was just one weird thing after another. His coffee-brown curls really looked like a bird's nest after a whole another day of goofing around and doing no real practice. His face had a thoughtful expression, eyes squinting, gazing into the distance. "Oye!" Ranveer called out to him. Then, he seemed to come back to his senses. 

For some reason, there was a slight tint of redness on his cheeks. Perhaps from exhaustion. Maybe being stupid did make you tired, Ranveer had thought idiots never ran out of energy. 

"Listen," Raghav called out. Ranveer quirked up an eyebrow. "You want to practise right? Come to my house. I don't have any siblings, to koi pareshan bhi nahi karega. We can look up dance moves and choreograph together."

Ranveer wanted to refuse, but when he actually considered it, it wasn't that bad of an idea. Begrudgingly, he replied, "Okay."

Raghav flashed him a grin, showing his pretty teeth that Ranveer was always so tempted to break. 

Once again, Ranveer sighed. "Ab maharaj baahar aayenge ya aapke liye paalki bulai jaae?"

• • • 

It was five pm when the bell to the patil household rang.

"Aati hu!" chimed in a woman's voice from inside the house. Not long after, the door opened. 

It was Mrs Patil, Raghav's mother, probably. She looked at him, head to toe, from his sleek black hair, to the slight stubble on the dark skin of his face. Shit, should he have shaved? Was she judging him? He was already going mad overthinking. But then Mrs Patil tilted her head and asked, "Ranveer?" 

Oh, she has never seen me before. That's why. Ranveer smiled and nodded, earning a warm smile from Mrs Patil too. She had benevolent-looking eyes and deep dimples. So that's where Raghav got them from. Ranveer had always thought he got them from his father, since he looked so much like the man. 

"Arey, andar aao na, beta. Raghav told me you would come today. Do you want chai?"

Ranveer took the corner seat of the sofa and looked around. Mrs Patil hadn't waited for his answer and was already pouring a cup of chai for him. "Thank you," he said and took the cup she handed him.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, beta. Raghav bhi aata hi hoga."

With that, she disappeared into the kitchen. Ranveer sipped on his chai and cursed himself for not asking her for her name. Now he'll have to be stuck calling her "Mrs Patil" or "Aunty".

Thought the word aunty wouldn't suit her. Despite her age, she had the sort of radiance in her that many women seemed to lack. Until now, Ranveer couldn't place a name on it, but now he realised that he had seen the same untiring energy in Raghav. He had only met Raghav's father, because he also taught at their college. So he had connected all the dots about him to his father and filled in the blank spaces, the things he didn't know about them, with his imagination. 

It had been easy, both him and his father were equally energetic. Though the teacher knew how to keep a class in check, and Raghav didn't even know how to keep himself in check.

But now he realised, Raghav was much more like his mother than his father. In only a few seconds, his mother had made Ranveer recall Raghav so many times you'd think he was in love with him, thinking of him every few seconds and all.

Ranveer pushed the intrusive thought out of his mind. Phew, his mind could be a weird place. Especially when he was drinking chai with this much masala. He was pretty sure he was tasting mulethi, and he'd never had mulethi in chai before. Weird, weird family and their weird, weird chai habits. 

He was finished with his cup when the door sprung open. Raghav, who didn't even have the common sense of not calling someone to his home when he's not even at home himself, grinned at him and threw his bag beside him. "I'll go wash my face. You can wait for me in my room."

Ranveer went to put his cup in the kitchen sink, but he couldn't stop the heat in his cheeks from seeing the grin on Raghav's face. One look at him and Ranveer's own brain betrayed him, replaying that same intrusive thought for some reason. 

Weird. 

[treason-and-plot]

Saffron comes back downstairs just as Connor and Jared are re-entering the living room.

“Hey, Jar,” she says. “How was the movie?”

“Okay, I guess,” says Jared.

“Jared saw a strange person outside when he got home so we just went to check out if he was still there,” says Connor. “It looks like he’s gone now, though.” 

“What do you mean? “says Saffron. ”What was he doing?”

“He was standing on the other side of the road opposite the house. Jared said it looked like he was texting,” says Connor. He looks intently at Saffron’s face as he speaks. Her forehead wrinkles slightly and she sticks out her bottom lip in a quizzical expression. Then she shrugs and turns to her brother. Connor finds her self-possession is to be both admirable and disconcerting.

“Are you hungry, Jar?” she says. “We’ve got leftover spag bol.”

“Nah, I’m good,” says Jared. “Darren’s mother took us to Macca’s on the way home.”

“Okay,” says Saffron. “Well, Connor and I have some more studying to do. You ready to continue, Connor?”

“Sure,” he says. Jared goes upstairs to his room. After another hour of revising exchange rates and the macroeconomic effects of currency fluctuations, Saffron says she’s getting tired. It’s now past 11 pm. Connor is starting to get a headache, but the thought of going home to his empty house makes his mood darken. His mind turns to what Wes and Laura might be doing right now, and the edges of his mind grow darker still. Saffron hasn’t received any more texts. He wonders if her married man is lurking in the hydrangeas that frame the driveway, ready to pounce on him as he gets in his car. He thinks not. If he is married, then he’s a coward, too lacking in backbone to leave a bad marriage. There’s no way he’d have the courage to confront Connor. Connor feels frustrated with Saffron for getting involved with such a loser, but ultimately it’s her life, her decisions. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want to discuss her love life with him, and he has to respect that.

“Are you going to be at the library tomorrow?” he asks her.

“Yeah, probably,” she says, with her customary off-handedness.

“Can we study together again?”    

“Fine. I’ll probably be there around lunch time.”

“You can give me my book back tomorrow, then,” says Connor.  

“Okay,” says Saffron. She walks him to the door, and on impulse he kisses her on the cheek.

“What was that for?” she says, making a face.

“I just wanted to say thanks for listening to me tonight,” he says.

“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?" she says, but he notices that she stays standing in the open doorway watching him until he backs out of the driveway, and even gives him a wave as he drives away.  

[novankenn]

Winner Takes All

@lar-mx asked @howlingday -- "dumb idea 2, nora dies for a pancake… she comes back a week later telling jaune that he has to play a poker game against god or else they will both die (in nora's case again), jaune tries to lose but the lady of fortune shouts: (I didn't keep you alive so you would surrender to that bitch (the god of light))."

I'M SO SORRY!!! I CAN'T RESIST!!!

/==/

Jaune stood in the small cemetery that was part of Beacon's grounds. A quiet and peaceful place reserved for those students that didn't have a family to take possession of their remains.

Jaune: *sniffling* Nora, how could you leave us? Ren is just not himself anymore... and Pyrrha has lost her smile... it's just so senseless... a pancake... it shouldn't have...

Nora: JAUNE-JAUNE!

Jaune whips about and sees a slightly pale Nora looking at him with a bright smile.

Jaune: *VERY UNMANLY SCREAM OF TERROR*

Nora: Why is everyone doing that?

Jaune: No... Nora? How? You're...

Nora: Yeah, yeah. I'm dead... or was!

Jaune: Was?

Nora: I... well... um...

Jaune: *eyes narrow* What did you do?

Nora: I convinced an otherworldly being to resurrect me... yeah, just that, only that?

Jaune: *raises an eyebrow while crossing his arms over his chest* Really?

Nora: Really.

Jaune: What's the catch?

Nora: Someone has to play them in a game to make this stick!

Jaune: Is that it? *sees that Nora is fidgeting* Nora...

Nora: Well the thing is...

Jaune: I'm waiting.

Nora: Someone has to play and WIN to grant me my complete resurrection... but if they lose...

Jaune: If they lose...

Nora: They also die? *unleashes a Ruby-esque set of Puppy-Dog eyes* I'm sorry?

Jaune: *sighing and shaking his head* Nora... which being is it?

Nora: It's... hey, you're taking this whole thing rather well, the scream not withstanding. How is that possible? Pyrrha fainted and Ren just... sat there, ignoring me.

Jaune: This is not the first time...

Nora: What now?

Jaune: Nothing. So which entity is it?

Nora: The Brother of Light.

Jaune: Okay... wait! Did you just come to me because Pyr and Ren wouldn't do it?

Nora: Well... I did say Pyr-Pyr fainted, and well Rennie is not in a good place.

Jaune: So I'm your THIRD choice.

Nora: Sorry.

Jaune: Fine. When is this supposed to happen?

Nora: You'll do it?

Jaune: Of course. To get you back, I would do just about anything.

Nora: That's SO sweet of you!

Jaune: So wh...

Brother of Light (BoL): How about now... Mr Arc.

Jaune: *sighs and shakes his head* Fine.

Jaune (With Nora hovering at his shoulder) : B4

BoL: *grumbling* Hit... you sunk my battleship.

Jaune: Well that's it, I won so....

BoL: Best of THREE!

Jaune/Nora: That wasn't the...

BoL: BEST. OF. THREE.

Jaune snorts and gives the Brother of Light the stink-eye, while Nora pouts.

BoL: *Looking at his hand, showing a pair of queens and a pair of nines* I call *pushes all his chips into the centre of the table*

Jaune sighs, and pulls out of his stack just enough to cover the bet.

BoL: Read 'em weep... two pair, queen's high.

Jaune: Not bad... *Jaune lays down his hand* Full house... Aces over Kings.

BoL: How?

Jaune: Just lucky... now that's two wins to one...

BoL: BEST OF FIVE!

Nora/Jaune: What? No!

BoL: Are you...

????: That's enough of that. You lost... pay up.

BoL: Fate? What are you... NO! That's cheating!

Fate: Cheating? Who me? Why would I do such a thing? Just because the Arc's are descendants...

BoL: But she... she...

Fate: You made the deal...

BoL: Fine *crosses his arms over his chest and pouts*

Nora: Is it over? Do I get to stay alive?

Fate: Yes my dear. My beloved Jaune has won you.

Nora: Thank you! *Hugs Jaune and places a kiss on his cheek* Thank You! I get to live again! I can be with Renn....

Fate: Ah Ah Ah. That's not how it works.

Nora: What?

Jaune: No... no... no... I don't need...

Fate: Hush now, dear. You see Ms Valkyrie, or can I call you Nora? I would prefer Nora, as you'll be part of the family soon.

Nora: Say what now?

Fate: Jaune won you back from the after-life... do you contest that?

Jaune: No.

Fate: And do you understand the implications of such an action?

Nora: Umm... no?

Fate: It's like this...

Jaune: *cutting off Fate* It's like this... I won so I now own your soul, which means you are mine until the...

Nora: Jaune?

Fate: Tell her.

Jaune: We are bonded together... *sighs and rubs the back of his neck* ... until the end of time.

Nora: What? How? I don't...

Fate: You and Jaune are now ... for the lack of a better term or concept... husband and wife... in the cosmic sense... didn't Jaune warn you?

Nora: I... *eyes narrow* No he didn't.

Jaune: Oops... My Bad?

(To Be Continued?)

[givemea-dam-break]

fic idea: George x Reader where Georgie has been so overworked recently and goes out on a case with Lockwood & Lucy so while they’re out reader cleans up the house as much as possible and does chores and bakes cookies to show appreciation for everything George does for the house <3

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute yes!!! once again, this isn't overly long, mostly because i'm still working myself out of a writing slump, but i hope you enjoy!

warnings: none words: 965 taglist: @neewtmas @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @gotlostinfiction @waitingforthesunrise @mirrorballdickinson @mischiefmanaged71 @magicandmaybe @wellgoslowly gn reader

For You - George Karim

By no means are you a good cook when it comes to dinnertime at thirty-five Portland Row, but you’re a hell of a good baker.

The smell of freshly baked cookies is still strong when you hear George trudge through the front door with his trademark huffs and scuffling footsteps. You’re still plating them up when he finds his way into the kitchen, covered in what looks like soot and ectoplasm burns on his thick jacket. You have to ignore the way his hair falls over his forehead in such an endearing way to be able to function.

“What happened to you?” you ask with a laugh.

“The ghost’s source was in the house’s very old, very dirty chimney,” he grumbles, tearing his jacket off. “Typical, huh? What’s that you’ve made? Smells good.”

With a grin, you turn and show him the plate of cookies. “For you,” you say. “Well, for Lockwood and Lucy, too, but if they’re all gone by the time those two get back then they don’t need to know.”

There’s a moment where George is silent, looking at the cookies as if they hold some otherworldly secrets, but then he wipes his glasses on his shirt and glances around the room. Apparently, he notices the lack of dirty dishes, rings made from mugs and glasses on the counter, and the absence of a perpetual burnt toast smell, because he nods in appreciation.

“You’ve cleaned up, too. Is that why you didn’t want to go on any cases tonight?”

“Surprise?” You place the cookies down on the table and wiggle your hands dramatically, which earns of huff of a laugh in return. “There was so much that needed done, so I thought I’d get it sorted. Especially since you’ve been working yourself so hard.”

“I haven’t been –“

“Georgie,” you say, “yes, you have. You’re out of the house by nine most mornings now to get down to the Archives, and you’re not back until right before dinner. And, believe me, I appreciate all of the work you’re doing, but I can’t take much more of Lockwood’s spag-bol. Either way, just wanted to show you that I’m grateful for you.”

Already, you can feel your face growing a little warm. What kind of friend cleans a whole house and bakes cookies just to say thank you? A good one, maybe. Or maybe not. You’re not entirely sure what constitutes as being a friend or what is more at this point.

“I washed your dirty clothes, too. They’re on your bed along with some of those pens you lost a few weeks ago. I found them stuffed between the cushions of the sofa. Oh, and –“

His hand reaches forward slightly, and your words come to a stop.

“Am I rambling?”

There’s a little shadow of a smile on his lips. “Yeah.”

And then his hand is on your face, fingers brushing your cheek so softly they almost feel like feathers. Your heart ceases all functions, and your breath stops short. He’s looking at you so tenderly that you fear you might implode.

When his fingers pull away, there’s a faint white dusting along the tips. “You had flour on your face.”

Immediately, your hand reaches up to your cheek to brush away any remaining flour, and George laughs, reaching over again to get the last little bit. Can he feel how hot your skin is right now? You’re not entirely sure of whether it’s from embarrassment or the fact that George Karim has just touched you so nonchalantly without knowing how much it sends your heart racing.

“Thank you,” he says, dusting his hand off. He shuffles back a small step. “You really didn’t have to. Especially not at two in the morning.”

You shrug to try and seem indifferent, but it comes off a little more clunky than you had intended. You are pretty tired, to be fair. “No fuss. I got bored. Besides, I had this recipe sitting around and I know it’s one of your favourites.”

There’s a faint glimmer in his eyes then. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. You told me ages ago, and it’s not something I would forget.”

He gives you a very George smile then – one that looks outwardly quite awkward, but you know is genuinely happy from the way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. It makes your heart soar and your head feel a little light.

“You know you’re the best right?” he says as he plucks a biscuit off the plate. “Lockwood might pay my wage, but you’re an angel.”

The words take you by shock, mostly because it’s something you never would’ve expected him to say. Usually, he’s far too awkward to compliment you beyond telling you that you’ve done a good job on something or that the jumper you’ve chosen to wear that day is a particularly nice colour, so to hear You’re an angel leave his lips feels like some kind of fever dream.

Are you dreaming? Surely you are. There’s no way that any of this has happened.

But there he is, just a foot or two away, smiling in that unique and entirely enchanting way of his as he breaks his biscuit into small chunks to eat it. There he is, trying to decide whether or not he should keep looking at you or stare down at his shoes with ears that look curiously pink.

“How quickly do you reckon we could eat these before Lucy and Lockwood get back?” you ask.

George’s smile becomes a little bigger. “If we try hard enough, ten minutes.”

He hands a chunk he broke off, and you swear his fingers linger for a little too long to be considered friendly. It makes you grin as you take it.

“Bet.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

okay, this got me thinking; now, imagine with me. dad!tan x italian!mom!reader. mandy (and possibly her brother??) miss papa when he is off to work so he def takes them on trips! the plushies from different places, hello?? maybe the reader comes from the amalfi coast of italy (this is super self-indulgent but ciao, positano💋) and he buys them a lemon stuffie. omg i can see uncle lem losing it if they brought one home for him!! i also wonder whose accent the kids would pick up, tan’s or an italian!reader. okay, enough of my rambling but i could not help it after your fabulous writing had me daydreaming🤍

dad tan save me. save me dad tan

DAD TAN.

he definitely makes use of their passports, and imagine the stamps in them!?? there’d be so many. and right?? the plushie thing is actually so cute

omg imagine that when you all got back from your little trip (lem was at yours house sitting) he is waiting and lingering for tan to give him a gift. doing that thing where he keeps his hands behind his back, peering up and doing that squinty playful face. like he’s eyeing up tans carry on😭😭 maybe when tan pulls out the lemon plushie he says how it was Mandy’s idea (that’s a lie! tan put the idea in his daughters head. AGHH right okay I imagine you’re all in the shop, and tan sees the stuffie and leads Mandy over there and says “reckon we should get uncle lem something?” and he’s hinting at her to pick up the plushie. AND THEN AJAKSJSN you go “you know you can just get your brother a gift from yourself. he’s your brother”) and then lem definitely shouts when he gets the plushie, but in a “AHO” kinda way and he’s buzzing about it

I imagine that the kids will speak with a mixture. maybe you try to speak as much Italian around them as possible bc it’s important for them to know it. but they say things with twangs. so the way tan says certain words, they’ve mimicked and learned his way. but they may say italian words or copy the way you pronounce things (depends on how heavy your accent is) guess it also depends on where they’re raised, but i do think they have quite heavy cockney inflections and a mix of an italian twang. that was a load of waffle😭😭😭 but was trying to make sure I was clear, but that made sense right?

and bc you linked that post in the ask, in that I mentioned how tan makes a mean spag bol. and bc you’re italian you make a traditional, really fucking yummy spaghetti bolognese. and you and tan have these little competitions to see what mandy prefers more. also having debates about whose is better, but both being confident and sure in your own dishes

I WILL NEVER run out of hcs and ideas for dad tangerine 😣 love him so bad

[violets-and-books]

JESPER THOUGHTS TIME BECAUSE IF EVERYONE ELSE CAN DO IT SO CAN I

This is a man who longs to be loved. He longs to be loved and to be allowed to love. This is, genuinely, the first impression of him I got from the books. When Bollinger was revealed as a traitor, Jesper didn't react with anger, as you'd expect from someone who, yknow, had been betrayed. All he said was "Oh, Big Bol... you idiot." And it sounds REGRETFUL. He regretted what Bollinger had done, he regretted being betrayed by someone he saw as his friend. He and Bollinger weren't even that close but he acted so regretful and disappointed

He wants to love. He reaches out so desperately to everyone around him. He reaches out to Kaz so much, everyone's analysed that to death, but he reaches out to EVERYONE. Everything about him is crafted so people will like him. The humour, the flirting, the style, the laid-back personality, it's all a way to present a version of himself that everyone will like. And it takes such a toll on him - we see that with his gambling and his intense self loathing - but he doesn't try to change it. Because he wants people to like him so much

Jesper's childhood was so full of love. His mum loved his dad, his dad loved his mum his mum loved him and his dad loved him. There wasn't a person in that house who didn't feel intensely, completely loved and accepted. Out of all the Crows, Jesper had the healthiest early childhood.

And then his mum died.

And he suddenly didn't feel so loved or accepted anymore. Not because of anything anyone did but because his mum's powers had killed her and her death ripped a huge rift through the family. Colm still loved Jesper but he was afraid for him. Afraid that his zowa would take Jesper from him like it took Aditi from him. So, Jesper learnt to hide that part of himself. He learnt that, in order to be loved, he had to hide parts of himself away. He had to hide his power, the dangerous part of himself, the part his mother had given to him.

Then, when he fell into the Barrel, he had to hide more of himself. I'm fairly certain he was only 15 when he dropped out of uni. He was incredibly young and probably absolutely terrified. And so many of the people around him were strong and apathetic and dangerous. So, again, Jesper learnt and he adapted. He's a master of change, he can create whatever image of himself he wants. He knows how to make people like him.

All because he wants to be loved. Because he wants to love. He trusts and loves people so implicitly, so quickly, he treasures his friends. He loves people so deeply and completely, verging on the edge of blindness. And people just don't give him that love and trust back. He fights for it. Every bullet out of his gun, every quip or insult or fist thrown is because he wants his friends to love him. He wants to be useful and needed and wanted. He's got such a hole in his heart, such a well of emptiness, that he doesn't let anyone see. Because if people know he's weak, if people know he's human, they won't like him anymore. If they know he's more (or less) than the jokes and the empty promises and the easy pick-up lines and the guns and the flash, they won't love him anymore and he will be completely, utterly alone with his thoughts