#how do I wish him happy diwali

[ramayantika]

My dad is calling me and I am crying

[hum-suffer]

We'll see each other again (nevermind the chasm between us) 10

Amar has known Gauri since before they were even born. They shared the same blood, the same parents and the same womb. The nursemaids gossiped about their birth to this day, whispering about how close they are, how Bahu didn't stop crying until he was laid next to Gauri, how Gauri didn't breathe until she was next to Bahu.

They share a bond, profound— beyond anyone's understanding. He feels what she feels and knows it even before she has identified her emotions. He knows what she's thinking and he knows how it's all gonna end in her emotions bubbling. Gauri feels a lot and sometimes, she can't contain her emotions. He's there to hold her together when she cracks with all the untamed emotions inside her.

He's on an excursion, with Bhalla and Gauri, their guards trailing behind them at an unassuming distance. They're disguised, Bhalla having somehow convinced Maa to let him go out to see the Diwali market. She's angry, Amar can tell that even without being her twin.

Her jaw is set— as she's learnt from Amar himself. Her hair is pulled by in a style she rarely favours and he knows an amateur would assume that is a reason of her irritation but Amar knows his sister and knows something as trivial as that wouldn't even hold her attention beyond a couple of minutes. She's wearing an orange saree, complete with red highlights that match her alta— and he knows she hates this combination beyond relief, she's complained about the saree before.

(It was a gift from some lord, an attempt to win Maa's favour. Obviously, a failed attempt.)

"What is the matter with you?" Bhalla asks her finally, when Gauri has stayed silent for the whole of the excursion and is now still silent on the way back. He's easy to anger, but Bhalla has always had the tact of his father— he's never understood women.

(He was different when they were younger. Bhalla used to know everything that made Gauri happy and everything that made her furious. Amar feels an ache in his chest at losing that but he knows that Bhalla feels pressure to do the best among them as he's the eldest. He doesn't have time to tolerate tantrums, in uncle Bijjaldev's words, and he has a lot of responsibilities.

And anyways, who is ever guaranteed to be the same this day and the next? Time changes even the nature of mother earth, what is the nature of man in front of that?)

Amar won't claim to understand anyone he's never met, but he knows his sister to her very bones and soul. It's his one consistency and he's proud of it. I will understand her today and I will understand her when we're both old and frail, he thinks with pride and humility in the same amount. Thank you, Mahadev, for giving me a sister.

Gauri sighs loudly in irritation. "I am fine, Bhalla. Nothing is wrong."

Gauri has always been a good liar. To anyone but Amar and Bhalla. Sometimes, even Maa can't read her lies as well as the brothers do.

Bhalla obviously knows she's lying too. "Do not insult me with lies. Remain petulant if you must, but do not lie to me, Gauri."

Amar sees the minute wince Gauri suppresses and he wants to punch Bhalla for being so impatient with her. He reaches for her hand and gives her wrist a squeeze that is hopefully reassuring. She doesn't show any response to it.

"Gauri." He knows she'll listen to him and sometimes it breaks his heart to have such power over her. He wishes she didn't love him so wholly, he thinks of the day she will marry and move away to whatever place her husband would be in and his heart burns. He will never be able to live in a world where he's away from his sister. "Please, talk to us."

She side eyes Bhalla as she speaks,"Uncle Bijjaldev and his dearest friend, the Kulpurohit, want me to not join in on the Diwali's Lakshmi Pujan."

Amar sees the way Bhalla stiffens. "And why not?"

"Because it will be only a couple of days after I finish my periods," she says, uncaring of the narrowed looks she receives as people overhear her talking about periods to boys. "Apparently, I will be too impure."

Bhalla doesn't speak anything else but looks away at the main objective of the issue being her periods. Amar frowns. "That's absolutely ridiculous, there's nothing impure about you. There can never be anything impure about you!"

"Thank you!" She exclaims, "That's what I've been trying to tell them! Maa asked to meet me today to discuss the same thing and she is seriously considering banning me from the puja because she believes the Rajpurohit."

Amar hears Bhalla groan. "I understand why you're angry, Gauri, but seriously, who can go against the Rajpurohit?"

Something akin to dread trickles down his spine and Amar thinks and oh. No. No. No.

He thinks of Gauri, excluded from the puja and confined to her rooms. Gauri, alone, only with Bhairav and some guards to protect her. Gauri, who already has had an assassination attempt on her. Gauri, who could be killed so goddamn easily away from their eyes. Gauri, who could die. Cease to exist. Amar doesn't think he can imagine a world without her. His sister, half of his heart, his twin, dying. He can't think of the possibility, he can't. Gauri can't die. They can't serve his sister to the assassin on a silver platter, no.

Fuck their notion of made up impurity.

Amar will never lose his sister, not at any cost.

"You don't understand anything, Bhalla," she says heatedly,"Your presence in any ritual hasn't been brought to a question because of your bodily functions! And Rajpurohit is making this up, I know it, there's no way periods are impure, they're the reason people are born!"

"The religious texts do say that women should not get involved in activities during their...problem." Bhalla says, sounding so disinterested that Amar knows he's contradicting Gauri only to distract her from her anger and not because he actually believes the bullshit he's spouting.

Gauri's ears turn red in her anger. "I agree periods are inconvenient enough to be a problem, but saying the word won't make you faint, brother! And the religious texts say that because women need rest in their periods. Do you even know how much my legs, back, stomach and head are aching at this moment? Do you know how nauseous I felt after breakfast today? Do you know my whole body is aching right now and I have these irritating breakouts on my face? The texts say women should not perform stressful tasks, not that they mustn't perform any tasks of import. Yagnas and pujas are stressful because we have to sit in the same position for hours, and because women's bodies are more receptive to energies in their periods and hence also soak up any and all kinds of energies, especially in yagnas, which are literally based on positive and negative energy and enforcement."

"Breathe, you annoyance," Bhalla says, sighing heavily and pulling Gauri closer to hug her sideways. "I understand your perspective and I'm sorry for assuming anything otherwise. Now, do you want a piggyback ride as repayment?"

Gauri thinks about it for a moment but Amar knows she's going to say yes. She hesitates a lot in her path to happiness but she loves the beloved treatment she gets, being their only sister.

She nods finally and all three of them stop in sync. Amar instinctually knows Mama, Bhairavrath and Advaita, their guards, are instantly suspicious. Bhalla hunches down and Gauri hands Amar the money pouch she'd been carrying before hopping onto his back. Amar smiles at the two of them, their grins big and eyes filled with merriment as Gauri winds her dhoti clad legs around Bhalla's waist and laughs loudly, in Bhalla's ear.

"I will throw you off," Bhalla threatens her playfully. They all know he'd never hurt either of them.

He looks at Amar,"What's gotten into you now?"

Amar shakes his head, still thinking about his sister, dead in a room they used to share, blood staining her purple bedsheet.

From Bhalla's back, Gauri raises her eyebrows comically and despite not wanting to, Amar snorts. "Let's go before Mama tells us about how inappropriate behaviour this is."

He doesn't have to, Amar can feel all the questioning stares burning onto the three of them already.

Bhalla begins to speedwalk instantly and Amar chuckles. Gauri looks over her shoulder at Amar, who's a couple paces behind them.

'I love you.' He mouths to her.

'I love you more.' She mouths back, grinning.

He doesn't argue, he knows it's true. No one will ever love him like Gauri does. His heart gets heavier, the thought of parting from her in any way will kill him one day.

But he won't let her die, not as long as lives. As long as Amrendra Bahubali lives, so shall Gauraangi Devi.

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He finds Maa on a swing in the west wing of the palace. He knows she favours the spot, for it is silent and peaceful here. The moon looks wonderful and the stars shine so beautifully that he sometimes doesn't move from this very spot for hours.

"Am I allowed to intrude?" He asks playfully.

Maa turns back to him with a smile that brightens her face and beckons him forward. "Bahu, of course, come. Sit beside me, here." She moves to make space for him and slows the swing down to let him sit.

"Gauri was furious today," he says after a long silence. Maa hums. "Do you believe women in their periods are impure?"

Maa shakes her head. "Never, son. Women are part of Shakti, the reason for the universe, they cannot be impure unless it is in regards to their own karma. However, the council isn't made of men as understanding as you and Bhalla."

"But why are Gauri's periods known to them in the first place?" He asks, miffed at the break in the privacy of his sister,"She has her right to privacy and autonomy."

Maa nods regretfully. "That she does. But Gauri has excruciating periods, like your grandmother. She pretty much cannot do anything for at the very least the first two days of her periods. Her absence makes it obvious."

Amar purses his lips. He will find out the names of these over-interested councilmen later and have a talk with them about just what the hierarchy between the princess and the council is.

"You must let her come to the Puja, Maa. You know how much she likes Diwali. It's her favourite time of the year!"

Maa looks down at her lap, clearly saddened too. "And I want to. But people here are too orthodox and I don't want an unnecessary political fight to ensue with my daughter being at the centre of it. She's bright and mature, but I won't expose her to any kind of backlash, if I can help it."

Wonder fills Amar's heart. Here is Maa, thinking of never letting Gauri face backlash even if she is held as a culprit in Gauri's eyes. And there is Gauri, thinking of never letting Maa face backlash, even if she has to risk her life. Women love so deeply, he thinks, for a moment drowning in the sheer love they carry in their hearts.

But he knows what is the bigger necessity and he doesn't care about orthodox people, he cares to not leave his sister's life to fate and chance.

"Tell them, Maa, if they won't let my sister attend the puja, I won't be there either." His heart is beating wildly in his chest but he knows he will hold his ground. He will never compromise Gauri for anything.

Maa's eyes widen and he feels regret for a moment for causing her strife but it is soon replaced by his love for Gauri.

"Bahu, don't be stubborn. You don't know the things she will hear if she comes to the Puja. I cannot throw every person who slanders her in the dungeons, son and I won't have my daughter crying in Diwali."

"And I won't have my sister feeling ostracised in Diwali, Maa. If they don't want the daughter of their previous King, they won't get the son of their previous King. I mean no disrespect to you, Maa, but I will not leave my sister at any cost." Anxiety flutters in his chest.

(He remembers once choosing Maa about Gauri once, when they were being given separate rooms. He remembers Gauri crying and he acutely knows how unloved she must have felt. He's never going to let her feel so again. Even if there wasn't a threat hanging over her, Amar is never going to leave his sister to misery again. Never again.)

Maa sighs and she suddenly looks so tired, Amar wants to curl up beside her and offer her any comfort he can. But he holds his ground.

Maa shakes her head. A smile slowly blooms on her face. "You are your mother's son." She looks down again, before looking up at him,"You must also realise that I would never let my daughter be isolated from her own rights and family in any condition, Bahu."

"So, Gauri is allowed to attend the puja?"

Maa chuckles as if he said something endearingly amusing. "Yes, Bahu."

Realisation dawns on him.

"You deliberately took their side to see what I would respond with!" Maa shrugs, unashamed of her ploy. Amar shakes his head at her and laughs, throwing his arms around her. "Don't scare me like that again! I don't like fighting with you."

"It's a lesson, Bahu," she says, caressing his hair,"Your Maa or the world around you won't always be correct. But stand your ground. Stay with the truth. Do not ever stray from your duty." He nods dutifully.

When he's finally getting up to leave for his room, Amar looks back at Maa. "Don't worry, Maa. You can't throw everyone who slanders her into the dungeons. But I will cut the tongues of any man who badmouths my sister." Even my uncle. Especially Even the Rajpurohit.

Amar has a simple idea of life: Gauri before everything else.

If his uncle can't accept that truth, he will have to learn to live a bitter life.

Maa gives him a smile that he can't decipher beyond pride and he doesn't care to. He wishes her a good night and leaves, wanting to be the first one to tell Gauri the good news.

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An empty home is never fulfilling.

Bhairav has spent the past years trying to live the way his sister would have wanted him to but it's difficult to keep living when all the goodness of his life is dead.

He hates that he locks the door behind him when he leaves, but as soon as he's back on duty to the palace, all the thoughts of melancholy are locked away. He needs to be at his best if he's ever going to be good enough to protect the princess of Mahishamati and wallowing in unresolved grief really isn't the best way to go about doing that.

Yamuna, the guard who takes the night shift to guard the princess' door gives him a curt nod before leaving. He's given up trying to make conversation with the girl, he knows she doesn't like fruitless conversations.

It's almost an hour later that the princess steps out of the room, dressed in a saree as beautiful as the blue sky and her hair tied in a braid, resting on her shoulder, adorned with pearls.

"Bhairav." She greets him with a slight nod and a smile as they begin walking towards the east wing of the palace, where the princess and the princes have their lessons.

(And isn't that new? Who called him with a nickname last time? How many years has it been? He knows exactly how many years, even days, it's been since someone said his name so tenderly and with affection. The soldier that Katappa made him often peels back like a mask and all he can remember is the child who cursed how powerless he truly was.

"You are my protector and sword, thus, I will be your defender and shield. You shall face no stigma under my service. So I've sworn, and may Mahadev strike me dead if I stray from my oath."

The words echo in his ears and he feels the power thrumming through his veins.)

"My princess." He greets her back, forcing himself to be more alert as they pass the silent hallways. He's even more suspicious of people these days, since the day the princess has revealed that she thinks someone tried to assassinate her.

Katappa would have his head if he said it out loud, but Bhairav already has his suspicions on why anyone would want to kill the princess that is so obviously beloved by the general public.

Since swearing to be her sword, Bhairav has accompanied her to all the donations she has done, to all the temple visits (may they be at midnight), to all the blessings she has received from the common people. He has witnessed it all.

He walks behind her, knows she doesn't particularly like it but he also knows his limits. He's a servant, his place is behind his mistress.

She walks with the power of a Queen.

Bhairav can't help but lament the fact that Mahishamati isn't a Queendom. If it were, Gauraangi Devi would be the best thing that would happen for the state. It's a treacherous idea, but he has enough idea of the characters of this generation of royals to know how emotional Prince Bhallaldev is, how trusting Prince Bahubali is and how loving Princess Gauri is. She is the most immune option of them all.

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Most days, Bhairav can't even fathom the trust his princess shows in him.

They're sitting in a room, him, and the royal twins. Bahubali is undoubtedly displeased by his presence but has accepted it because he knows Bhairav will slit his own throat rather than betray his princess.

"I knew I'd heard of this Satyaveer somewhere," Bahubali said. "He served as a chamber servant to Uncle Bijjaldev, he was the one who was instructed to make my current room liveable when we first separated from the original room."

It's a controversial topic, as far as Bhairav is aware. Everyone knows the storm the princess kicked up when she felt that her bond with her brother was threatened. People often laugh about it, calling it a little girl's tantrum.

(But Bhairav knows how much he craves for such vehement demands. Because no one loves him enough to fight for him. No one knows him enough. No one wants him enough. Anyone who did is dead. Maa, Jijaji, Didi—

Dead.)

(How he wishes someone loved him. Loved him enough to fight for him. Demand for him.)

"If I may, your highness," he says, pulling himself out of his thoughts,"I followed Satyaveer on the days that my princess was ill. He seems to have an affinity for secret passages."

The Princess looks at him sharply. "Which secret passages, exactly, Bhairav?"

"The one beside the statue of Indra dev on the second floor of the west wing, my princess." He's noted down everything about this. He can't even think of failing his princess, she deserves the best to protect her and guard her and Bhairav will not break her trust by letting some cowardly bitch kill her.

The twins share a look. There's a set to the princess' jaw that foretells horror.

"That passage leads to the floor that has a royal suite, used by Uncle Bijjaldev and Maa and the room reserved for the Kulpurohit." Bahubali says. Bhairav narrows his eyes. Rajmata Shivagami Devi would never want the princess dead, that's beyond ridiculous. The woman loves the twins like her own children, she would never let anyone else harm them, let alone plan their assassination.

Oh.

The Princess sucks in a breath. Bahubali shakes his head,"That's ridiculous! Neither Maa nor Uncle would want you dead. The Kulpurohit..?"

The Princess purses her lips. "Uncle wants Bhalla to be the next King. The Kulpurohit has hated me since I first demanded an apology from him for not letting me enter the study rooms on my periods."

"Leave, Bhairavrath." Bahubali says. Bhairav looks at the princess for a moment and she nods at him.

He leaves the room immediately. It's treacherous to think so, but Bhairav thinks his suspicions are only proving correct.

Bijjaldev wanted to be the King but wasn't made one. He wants his blood on the throne. The Princess may not be a contender for the throne but she is the sole power of Bahubali. Without her, Bahubali won't have the same power. He will be loved and liked and adored, he will be courageous and daring and strong, but the power behind the throne won't be wholly his. He wouldn't be able to wield it to his full potential without her.

Hell, from what Bhairav has seen, without the princess, Bahubali would probably give up materialistic things in life. They're both too entangled in their bond to ever survive the death of the other.

Kill one, and the other will instantly be dead.

He keeps his thoughts to himself. Heads have rolled for less.

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What do we think?????

Tagging: @vijayasena @alhad-si-simran @o-merebholebalam

[partlystiles]

Hey uhh. Can you make a part 2 of Barty and reader talking about their dads but this time they meet in the future and hoe reader died? I sort of need some angst

PT 1

barty crouch jr x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with a relative of someone from his past makes Barty's head turn.

Warnings: swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of death.

sorry it's been a while!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dearest Barty,

Enclosed in this letter is an Occamy feather for you! You better like it because I nearly died getting it for you, I had to resort to the mating dance and screeching loudly so it wouldn't attack. They are very aggressive and protective over their eggs, just like I knew but I can't believe I managed to tame one.

Of course I didn't manage to get an egg, but I have a drawing of it in my case that I will bring back to you and tell you all about.

India is so much fun! I've learned Bollywood dancing, visited a lot of the temples, trekked in the Himalayans to get to the Occamy of course. I even came during Diwali and everything is so beautiful!

I wish you were here with me. You'd love the dancing, even if you think you wouldn't, I know it. I'll be home soon, happily back with you. Little Elijah or Eleanor, whichever one it is, has been kicking for their daddy. Misses you almost as much as I do.

I know you had your doubts about me going to India whilst five months pregnant but I've run into no trouble whatsoever, just a little kick here and there but you were there for the first one. It should be about 4 more days until I'm back and I'm so excited!

I'm hoping that everything is okay back home. I know there's been more recent disappearances, even Regulus Black. Poor boy. He was so nice to me, I can't imagine how his brother is feeling. As long as you're safe then I'm happy, very happy.

Four months until our baby comes into the world!

Boat is boarding soon, so I'll go post this letter now. I love you so much! See you soon.

Y/N x

Bartemius Crouch read the letter over and over again. And then again. Until he felt numb inside, numb all over until somebody had to physically force him out of his chair, let alone out of his house. His heart was shattered, crawling back together to try and attach itself again, but it didn't work. Everything just crumpled again, crumpled like the letter in Barty's hand that was stained with blood, tears and sweat.

Multiple times it had been fished out of the garbage, multiple times he had tried to smooth all of the wrinkles back out of the paper so he could read it one more time. Multiple times he had been on the verge of incinerating every inky last word...but he never did. Because he could never ever get rid of her, the thought of her, the knowledge of her. Her and his baby who was never ever birthed.

Little Elijah or Eleanor never met their daddy and their daddy never got to look into the eyes of his child and softly rock them from side to side whilst singing them to sleep. It was a loss greater than anything, but nothing will ever be greater than the loss of his wife. His sun, his moon, his eclipse. Without her, his nights were darkened, his days were lost and Bartemius Crouch Junior withered away in his grand house, wishing his love was still in his arms.

However, a knock at the door interrupted his nightmare of a daydream. A grunt escaped his lips at the sound of it, his hand's grip on his glass of alcohol tightening at the rim as his other hand wiped at his spiked stubble around his chin in an uninterested gleam.

"Go away." Barty raised his voice a little, stumbling up from his dishevelled armchair and letting the rest of the letter from his wife's travel that sat on his lap fall to the wooden floor below him. "No one's home."

As he tried to stumble away again, tipping the last of the alcohol down his throat, he heard his door open anyway. Despite the obvious want of not having someone with him at that current time, he could hear footsteps behind him, entering the grand room with an air of purpose and especially an air of arrogance.

"I said GO AWAY." Barty swivelled around, chucking his glass at the doorway that the person was stood in. They didn't flinch at all, but the glass smashed above the archway and the shattered pieces fell down to the floor. "Fucking...fuckin bitch. Fuckin leave."

"Mr. Crouch, please." The man in the doorway removed his hat from his head, holding it in front of him as he watched the broken man trip around his drawing room, walking to his fireplace. "I'm here to talk about my daughter. I believe you knew her. Her name was Y/N."

At once, Barty paused in his place beside the fireplace, his hand grappled on the mantelpiece as his eyes narrowed into fierce slits at the mention of the name. The man grunted drunkenly again, shaking his head as his hands slapped against the mantelpiece multiple times before he decided to hit his head instead.

"Don't..." He drawled, his voice like gravel scraping against his vocal chords before he looked at the man in the doorway. The man had a shadow cast over his face but the firelight highlighting his nose told Barty that he was a spitting image of his dear Y/N. "Don't act like you fuckin' cared about...about her. I know what you did."

"I-I didn't do anything. My girl ran away when she was 17...I've been trying to find her for years. They led me here."

"Well, you're about a year too late, old man." Barty chuckled darkly, pushing himself away from the fireplace to swipe his bottle of alcohol off of his coffee table, pouring a hefty bit into a new glass. "She's dead."

"I was afraid of that." The man sighed, shaking his head and Barty downed about half of his drink before squinting and facing the man again. This time with more suspicion as he began to wring his hat in his hands. "She always was reckless. Running off, wanting to explore the world when I had a perfectly good job lined up for her at the ministry."

"Maybe she didn't want to be a fucking brainless clone." Barty spat, placing his glass down on the table before running his hands through his growing hair and over his face disappointedly. "And why the hell did it take you five fucking years to go looking for her? Ask anyone, it would've led you to me. You wanna fucking know why?"

"I don't-"

"I was the one who convinced her to run away." He whispered comically, pointing to himself with a crazed laugh as his lover's father straightened up a little at the amusement Barty was taking. "Right after I put a ring on her finger, we ran all the way to fucking Glasglow and got married in a stable. How's that for your precious little girl?"

"You drove my daughter away from me!" The man walked towards Barty, who picked up his glass and downed the rest of the alcohol before turning until he was chest to chest with the man. "She could've had a great life. A great job with a great salary and a great husband with a son and a daughter. You took that from her?"

"You drove her away from you yourself!" Barty stumbled more, but poked a finger onto the man's chest anyway, eyeing his own wand on the table just metres away. "It was her dream to travel the world and that's exactly what I...what I let her do, what I encouraged her to do. She was fucking happy, fuckin' joyful. With me. With my child inside of her. But of course you and your fucking ministry can't leave a man alone for two seconds-"

"You see, she was coming home from India, 5 months pregnant with my baby- and she- and she, she was on the same boat as another Death Eater. I didn't even know the guy that well. You ministry Aurors showed up, and she was caught in the crossfire. She died. My baby died. My whole life was ripped away from me because of YOU. YOU AND YOUR FUCKING- YOU'RE FUCKING..."

"Spit it out, son." The ministry worker said, stepping back from the boy as Barty reached into his pocket and yanked out her goodbye letter, crumpling it again in his hand before he looked back at the man, quivering with rage.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. GO." He shoved his hands out, hitting the man away from him, but the elder one didn't even budge as Barty's weak drunken form pushed and pushed at the body. "GET OUT. SHE WOULDN'T WANT YOU HERE. LEAVE. Fuckin-"

Bartemius reached his hand out, bending down in his pause from slapping his late wife's father to walk over to the coffee table where his wand sat. He picked up his wand, pointing it at the man in front of him who now did stumble backwards at the sight of the crazed man threatening him with his wand. Although it seemed as though Barty couldn't get a clear shot.

"Avada Kedavra." A blinding flash of light and a thud reverberated around the room as Barty was left alone, stumbling again though he didn't bother to pour himself another drink, he just grabbed the bottle and let it slide down his throat. "Fuckin' bitch, freakin' fucker...

... I want my baby."

[hezzabeth]

Revati stormed out into the hot, heavy darkness. Everything was quiet and still, the dead hair dryer was smoking. In the distance, someone was singing. Revati walked towards it, her feet stumbling over tree roots. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting next to a tree.

"I told you to wait at camp," Revati gently scolded him.

"I got bored! Are you ready to go? Mama hates it when I'm late for Apple day Dinner," Bridgadeiro taking her hand.

It was a new vibrant gesture.

One that for a long time Revati never dared wished for.

A gesture that began a few short months ago with a dance.

Bridgadeiro's eyes suddenly widened with surprise and he gasped. A thick plastic cord had sprung from the feel, wrapping itself around his neck.

Three hair dryers remained, and Revati had one more to confront.

"Will you please just let him go? I have a weapon," Revati addressed the darkness.

An older hair dryer appeared, its black cord attached to its base.

"You humans killed my husband, the least I can do is kill yours," the hair dryer said in a lady's voice. Strictly speaking, the appliances didn't actually need electric cords or genders, or spouses for that matter. For a species that despises humans, they did seem to copy them quite a bit.

"He's not my husband!" Revati pointed out. In truth, she wasn't sure what Bridgadeiro was. When she said goodbye to him four years ago at the end of an empty train ride, she was sure she'd never see him again. But then a week or so later, he appeared "just to check up on his tent." This happened quite often, no matter where Revati went. When he wasn't visiting, he sent messages to Revati's bangle, photos of random things he had spotted, such as a butterfly on a garbage bin, sincere questions about what she was up to. Every year, Revati put her foot down and insisted on traveling back to Olde Landon for Diwali, and every year for three years running, Bridgadeiro Bun was waiting at the gates.

One year he had actually, much to everyone's horror, brought the infamous ex-girlfriend, Margarine. She was a short and extraordinarily pretty girl with freckles and Snow White hair. Whenever she stood next to Bridgadeiro, she clung to his arm in a way that showed off her cleavage. They stayed for the entire two-week festival. Margarine kept exclaiming over how "adorable" everything was while also bragging about her family's "modern living orb." She insisted on sleeping with Bridgadeiro in the greenhouse but complained the next morning about how the soil bags hurt her back. It seemed like she was obsessed with getting every single resident's name wrong. Needless to say, everyone was happy when Bridgadeiro arrived alone the next year.

"Then you don't care if I kill him?" the hair dryer asked.

"Of course I care!" Revati protested. Last Diwali, during Lakshmi Pujan, Bridgadeiro had helped her walk up and down Baker Street, handing out firecrackers to all the residents.

"I can't believe you brought these all the way from your space station!" Revati remarked.

"Well, your Nanni said last year she missed being able to say goodbye to your ancestors properly," he said with a small shrug.

"You're far too helpful! Look at everything you've done," Revati remarked, gesturing about. The plants Bridgadeiro had grown on Baker Street were still thriving. Several of Dusk's students were picking winter berries.

"It's not that much, and it's the least I can do," he replied.

"You repaid me for saving your life a long time ago," Revati said, glancing toward him. They were standing so close together their hands were almost touching. When Revati turned her head toward him, she briefly felt one of his cotton candy curls brush against her cheek.

"Oh no, I do all these things because I like you," he replied. The space between them was very close. In the distance, Revati could hear the whoosh and bang of firecrackers.

Revati swung the mace with a practiced, perfect motion, slamming it into the hair dryer. The air filled with beautiful bright sunlight, and the hair dryer collapsed. Bridgadeiro fell to the ground, still gasping desperately.

"Did you... have to kill her?" Bridgadeiro gasped.

"She's an AI machine; they're probably uploading her brain into a new dishwasher as we speak," Revati reassured him.

There was a clanking sound, and the android appeared.

"Good evening, your majesty," Bridgadeiro wheezed.

"I thought you told your pet clown to wait at the tent," the android remarked coldly as Revati helped Bridgadeiro up.

"He got bored," Revati said as Bridgadeiro brushed down the front of his blue-checked shirt.

"No real harm done! Do you want to head back to the tent to get your luggage?" Bridgadeiro asked Revati, who nodded as something twisted in her stomach. Nerves.

In the year 3556, there were exactly four hundred and eighty-seven major religions across the solar system. There were the old classics such as Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. There were the meta religions such as the Lovecraftians who worshiped fictional kings in yellow. There were the cults that worshiped objects such as carrots and shoes. Then there were the historical figure faiths. The Church of Dollyhart. The Temple of Sweet Baby Elvis. One of the largest historical religions was, of course, "Goupism," or as Nanni called it, "That parasite cult."

As far as Revati could tell, Goupism centered around a beautiful lady who long ago stole hundreds of ideologies. Of course, "Goupers" didn't call it that. They called it "mindful integration."

Bridgadeiro wasn't a religious nut. He didn't force people to wear nothing but an assigned color. He also didn't spray people with "psychic vampire" spray. He did, however, have faith. Faith wasn't something Revati really encountered.

"So, this holiday you're taking me to is to celebrate the existence of apples?" Revati confirmed as they stumbled upwards in the dark.

"Apples, ridiculous! In my court, we only attend festivals that are at least a thousand years old," the android remarked, its eyes lighting the way.

"It's to celebrate both apples and the goddess's daughter. It's about how such a simple universal fruit can be used to fulfill so many needs," Bridgadeiro explained to the android.

"I do like apple juice and apple pie," Revati conceded.

"Not to mention apple cider," Bridgadeiro added.

Up ahead, Bridgadeiro's tent shimmered in the dark. When Revati first heard about Bridgadeiro's tent, she was expecting an all-terrain raincoat propped up on a stick. Instead, the tent was a massive blood-red bioluminescent mushroom. As they approached the tent, Bridgadeiro gently pushed aside some of the fungus, creating a small opening. Once they were inside, the fungus sealed behind them. The inside of the tent was filled with sinister red light. A light Revati had long ago gotten used to.

"You know in my court, we have a massive Chocovale festival! We create an entire palace using only the finest Neptunian cocoa," the android declared as Revati grabbed her luggage. Her luggage consisted of a battered backpack stuffed to the top.

"That's nice," Revati replied. It was best to act as polite and dull as possible whenever the android went on one of her "court" rants.

"Never settle for apples when you can have chocolate, my dear," the android replied, and Revati smacked the android with the side of her bag.

"I thought we agreed when I signed my working contract that you would stay out of my personal life!" Revati snapped back.

Four years ago, Revati had been nothing more than an unpaid sidekick. Three years ago, however, when it became obvious that Dityaa did not want to be found, Revati almost went home. Then the android started doing something extraordinary. The android started paying her. Paying her to follow along, changing parts, and polishing metal as they traveled from city to city. Paying her to fight off bandits who were trying to steal the android's eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she paid Revati just to listen. Revati didn't want to think about being a ghost haunting an android for money.

"We did, but your personal life is interfering with your work! We are so close to finding Perdita! Closer than we've ever been! And you're running off to pick apples with your beau," the android snapped.

Revati glared at the android before grabbing Bridagdeiro by shirt and defiantly kissing him.

"My holiday break started twenty minutes ago! If I want to pick apples, I will pick apples," Revati spat back after letting a shocked Bridgadeiro go.

"We don't actually pick the apples on apple day; we did that two weeks ago," Bridgadeiro remarked, touching his lips and looking stunned.

"Really, Revati? You can do so much better than this! Once I find Perdita, I can find you a spouse that rules an entire moon," the android sighed, and Revati folded her arms.

"Maternity droid, open up battery-saving mode," Revati said.

"Don't you dare!" The android shrieked.

"Enter sleep mode until the battery is fully charged," Revati said, and the android slowly made a clicking sound as it powered down.

"Her battery won't start charging until the sun rises, and then we'll have ten hours," Revati said, pulling a small eye dropper out of her pants pocket. Carefully, she squeezed a drop of liquid onto the tent's walls, and they exploded in a cloud of glittery spores. Revati put the eye dropper away and pulled out a small plastic box, using it to scoop up some of the spores.

Revati was going to reluctantly miss the rainforest; it was nice being able to go out at night without freezing to death.

"You kissed me," Bridgadeiro stammered as Revati put the box away.

"I kissed you to prove a point," Revati replied, holding up a hand.

"The last time you did that, you said it was never going to happen again," Bridgadeiro replied, gently grabbing her hand.

Revati stared at it briefly, remembering last Diwali, the fireworks crackling in the sky, Bridgadeiro's hair smelling like lemon and spices.

"Because of Margarine! You kept breaking up and getting back together with her so many times it gave me psychic whiplash," Revati said, snatching her hand away.

"And I told you that night it was done," Bridgadeiro said gently. It was that same gentle voice that so many fell in love with. Everyone adored Bridgadeiro, the way people loved marshmallows and pillows.

"And I told you I'm nobody's second choice," Revati said firmly before scanning the dark, trying to find the track that eventually led to the forest's main town.

The sort of people who loved Revati were the crazy ones who loved ghost peppers and hardback chairs.

"You're not second! I invited you to Apple day," Bridgadeiro said as Revati began to walk down the path, leaving the sleeping android behind.

"Let's just keep going! The town is an hour's walk away," Revati replied.

"Can I hold your hand? You might slip in the dark," Bridgadeiro replied.

"Fine," Revati conceded. In the buzzing insect darkness, someone watched them go.

[rachalixie]

diwali with chan

a/n: happy diwali my lovelies! this is me passing my love on to my fellow desi stays, but of course anyone is welcome to read! if you want to read up more on diwali, please do, it’s a beautiful holiday.

when you wake up, chris is out of bed and the spot next to you is not warm anymore; he’s been gone for a while. you frown, knowing that he needs the sleep and not at all pleased that he woke up early to get a jump start on his work today. 

you’re slow to brush your teeth and wash your face, giving him the opportunity to hear that you’re awake. you’re giving him time to prepare whatever excuse he’s going to use to defend himself before you drag him back to bed for another couple of hours.

you walk quietly through the house though, toes light on the stairs as you creep down. you want to catch him off guard. 

he ends up catching you off guard, though. 

when you find him, he’s cross legged on the floor of the foyer, face and hands stained with colored powder and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. he’s created spirals of gold and silver, dots and flushes of colored rice in between, a perfectly messy melody of powders and diyas forming a pretty mandala right on the floor. he’s doing rangoli?

then it hits you - it’s diwali. 

you take in the scene with a fondness that threatens to tear you open from the inside - you had resolved to forget this holiday, not being able to get enough time off of work to go visit your family. when you would think about seeing your dad and hugging him, or tasting your mom’s home cooked food, your eyes would sting in homesickness. but seeing him here, putting this together for you while he thinks you’re asleep so you have it to wake up to? it means more to you than you can put into words. you feel none of the soreness you thought you would, just a floaty happiness that leaves you light and airy.

“you want to light the candles?” he says, throwing you out of your dazed thoughts and holding up a lighter in his hand. you didn’t know that he had realized you were there, you were too busy taking in his handiwork and the way his hands flowed in the morning light. you smile wide and nod, taking the lighter from him and kneeling, your body pressed against his as you slowly light the diyas.

“you did this all for me?” you ask, meeting his eyes after taking in the final product that he had let you put the finishing touches on. “it looks perfect.”

“not only this,” he says, standing and pulling you up along with him with both hands. “i made some kheer! i don’t know if i made it right, but it tastes kind of like what your mom’s did when she sent it last year.”

if you weren’t already in love with this boy, you sure would be now. 

if you weren’t already in love with this boy, you sure would be now. 

the rest of the day follows in kind; he reveals that he took the day off of work, ready to spend the whole day in your company. you tease each other playfully as you light candles all over the house, in the windows and doorways and outside on the porch steps. he tears up with you when you call your parents to wish them a good holiday. later that night, you’re both curled up on your couch watching kabhi khushi kabhi gham (his choice) when he sits up, almost knocking you over in his excitement. 

“i almost forgot! i bought us sparklers!” he says, voice giddy and eyes bright. “let’s go outside!”

“chris,” you whine, content in your pajamas and warm under a blanket you had both been sharing before he bounced up. “i don’t want to.”

“you have to,” he orders, crossing his arms and pouting in the way he knows you can’t resist. sure enough, you follow through, getting up with an eye roll. you can’t help but laugh at his excitement; even though he’s making you get up, it’s still so sweet how happy he is to do these things for you. 

he leads you into your backyard, onto the small gazebo he built there for you, the perfect view of the sea of stars above you showering you in light from the open top. he hands you a sparkler, lighting his and touching the tip of his to yours so it could light too. 

you have fun making shapes with the crackling lights, taking silly boomerangs of each other to save and look at on a rainy day. in the light of the sparklers in your hands, his face glows bright, eyes shining brighter than the moon above you. he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

“y/n,” he takes your hand once the last sparkler fizzles out, eyes down as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. “i’ve been practicing something, just for you. don’t laugh, okay?”

“chris?” you say, suddenly nervous at his shift from playful to timid. he’s been happy and confident all day - what could he possibly have done that would make him nervous now?

“just, listen.” he says, taking a deep breath. he clears his throat before a soft melody parts from his lips, dancing through the night air to you. “teri nazaron ne dil ka kiya joh hashar, asar yeh hua.”

you drop his hand in shock, pressing both palms to your face instead to hide. you’re beyond overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even made it past one line of this song that you told him you loved, years ago. it doesn’t matter that there’s no music behind his vocals, the raw emotion you hear in his voice backs it just fine. 

“ab in mein hi doob ke ho jaon paar, yehi hai dua,” he continues, gently taking your hands away so he could look right into your eyes. 

you choke out a sob, tears streaming down your face. you’re more overwhelmed than you thought you could ever be, in the best way possible. his pronunciation of the words is perfect, each syllable showing the care that he put into rehearsing this for you. 

“aankhon mein teri, ajab si ajab si adayein hai,” he finishes, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead before tucking you into his chest. 

you realize why you didn’t feel homesick on diwali this year. it’s because he is your home, now. 

—

soft hours

the translation of the song chris sings: your eyes created such a feeling in my heart, that all I wish for now is to drown in them. there’s  something special in your eyes. 

[battinscn]

LUNAR NEW YEAR — theodore nott x f! reader

CONTENT WARNING: none

SUMMARY: it’s the first day of lunar new year and you were going home to celebrate with your family. theodore asks if he can come along and you are more than willing to let him. you are ethereally grateful for his deep interest to know more about you and your culture.

WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 1134 words/ 6 minutes

return to the theodore masterlist here

"HAPPY NEW YEAR y/n!" cho greeted when you walked past her while on your way to the great hall.

"thank you cho, 新年快乐! (happy new year)" you returned the greeting.

"why'd chang wish you happy new year?" theodore asked curiously.

“it’s the new year according to the lunar calendar,” you explained.

“does that have to do with why some students get excused to return home tonight?”

"yeap, i have to go visit my popo’s and have reunion dinner with my family tonight. dumbledore allows students who celebrate different festivities that aren't bank holidays to return home for a bit. like during diwali, the patil sisters get to visit their families as well." you explained.

"can i celebrate lunar new year as well?" your boyfriend asked.

"of course you can. if i'm being honest, my popo had written to me this morning asking if you'd like to have dinner with us tonight but i didn't think you'd bother so i didn't bring it up." you admitted.

"didn't bother? i'd love to celebrate with you and your family."

"really?"

theodore noticed the glint and hope in your eyes.

"yes my love, really."

you got dressed in your qipao while theodore was in a dark crimson dress shirt and black trousers.

you and cho chatted as the three of you walked to hogsmeade. you and her talked about how excited you were for the delicious scran that'd you have tonight.

theodore followed behind the two of you, listening to your conversation.

"hi mum, hi dad!" you gave your parents a hug when you saw them standing next to the changs by the entrance of hogsmeade.

"hello mr and mrs y/l/n, happy new year," theodore hugged your parents as well.

"it's lovely you're celebrating with us this year. y/n's popo's been wanting to meet the boy who's got her little granddaughter all smitten." your mother smiled at your boyfriend.

"okay, that's enough of embarrassing me. let's go now." you whined and your father disapparated all four of you away.

you landed by a small cottage somewhere in surrey.

"here, take these," you passed theodore two mandarin oranges.

"when you visit people's houses during the next 15 days, you greet them and hand the oranges to them as a form of good luck." you informed theodore.

the front door opened, revealing your frail nan dressed in a floral shirt and trousers.

you walked in after your parents.

"婆婆，新年快乐！祝你生体健康! (happy new year grandma! wishing you good health for the new year!)" you placed the oranges in your nan's hands.

"唉，我的宝贝孙子。新年快乐! (my darling granddaughter, happy new year)" your nan kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly.

"婆婆，这是我的男朋友, 西奥多. (this is my boyfriend, theodore)" you gestured to theodore.

"hello popo, xin nian kuai le," theodore tried his best to recite the mandarin greeting.

"hello! hello! 哇宝贝，你的男朋友好帅哦! (your boyfriend is so handsome!)" your nan greeted in her cantonese-chinese accent. she knew basic english phrases, but other than that she spoke mainly cantonese and mandarin.

you giggled at your nan's words, "she called you handsome theo baby."

"oh." theodore blushed pink, "xiexie." (thank you)

ever since you and him started dating a few months ago, you had taught theodore a few conversational phrases.

your grandmother invited all of you to sit by the round dinner table.

there was dishes like pen cai, a cantonese dish, as well as other foods like steamed fish and pork ribs, all cooked by your dear nan.

"吃多一点啊宝贝，你又瘦了. 叫你的男朋友吃多一点， 他也那么瘦。怎么可以保护你? (eat more y/n, you've gotten skinnier since the last time i saw you. have theodore eat more too, how's he supposed to protect you if he doesn't eat?)" your nan piled more food onto your already full bowl of rice because all asian grandmothers were like that.

you took on the role as the translator for the night as your nan wanted to know more about theodore.

after dinner, you sat in the living room having tong sui, a sweet soup, and nian gao, a sticky tapioca pudding that was dipped in an egg batter and fried.

theodore felt like the button to his trousers were about to explode from all the food he had scranned that evening.

the five of you then made your way to the back gardens and watched as your father lit the firecrackers with his wand.

"this is brilliant!" theodore exclaimed as the firecrackers exploded in the air with a loud bang.

you wrapped your arm around theodore's waist while his was looped around your shoulder.

you admired your adorable boyfriend as his eyes lit up from the fireworks, his smile wide, dimples on show.

you then looked around and saw your parents and grandparents, huddled together watching the fireworks as well.

your heart felt warm as you enjoyed the moment of getting to spend chinese new year with the people you loved.

you tiptoed and placed a kiss on theodore's jaw, "i love you," you whispered.

theodore looked down at you, surprised by your sudden affection.

"i love you more," he whispered and kissed your forehead lovingly.

"婆婆给你这封红包，祝你学业进步，青春美丽! (stay beautiful and continue studying hard)" your nan gave you a red packet and two oranges.

you thanked her and moved aside so she could get to theodore.

"she says she loved meeting you she hopes to see you again," you translated to theodore.

"tell her i said thank you for the red packet and for welcoming me to her home."

you bid goodbye to your nan and your parents apparated you and theodore back to hogsmeade. they too gave you and theodore a red packet each.

there, you saw cho and a few other students who had gone home for the evening standing and waiting with filch.

"why do you give red packets during chinese new year?" theodore asked as you walked hand in hand, trailing after filch's lead.

"the norm is that married couples or those who are married give them to singles i guess, as a form of good luck. but my nan gives them to my parents as well so it doesn't really matter." you explained.

when you finally returned to the dungeons, it was close to midnight.

"can we go to your nan’s for dinner everyday? i’d much rather have her cooking than what they serve in the great hall.” theodore joked as he collapsed onto bed.

you dried your hair with your wand and slipped under the duvet with him.

“hey theo baby?” you tapped his shoulder just before his eyes were about to close.

“thank you for wanting to know more about my culture, it means a lot to me.”

“thank you for sharing it with me, i love you so much, and getting the to chance know more about you is something i could never pass up.”

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @harryjamespotterswife @fairydxll @xangel76 @daddysfucktoyslut @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi

[thesleepiesthufflepuff]

🎂 Happy Birthday @crazybutgood!! 🎂

CBG, you are such a light in this fandom. Not only are you an amazing person and friend, but you’re also superbly talented. I’ll never get over how incredible your origami and writing are, and your presence alone is like a warm hug. I think I can speak for all of us in saying that this fandom wouldn’t be the same without you 💗Thank you so much for endlessly going over ideas with me, whipping my fics into shape, and encouraging me in every way. I’m so glad we’ve gotten to know know each other, and I adore our friendship so much 💞

As a little birthday gift, here are a few recs for some of my very favorite works of yours. I hope you have the best day 💜🎈

Fic

★ Just Us | Deamus, G, 226 words

It's just me, Seamus always says–encouragingly, bitterly, disbelievingly, reassuringly—throughout his life with Dean.

★ You Light Me Up | Drarry, G, 1.1k

Draco was excited to celebrate Diwali with Harry for the first time. He especially loved the beautiful henna art that Harry agreed to draw on his hands.

He just wished Harry would draw faster.

★ Language of Love | Drarry, T, 864 words

“Sometimes, I wish you could understand the things I want to say to you, about you, in Hindi or Urdu.”

★ Soar | Cho/Fleur, G, 361 words

Being with Fleur felt like flying.

Fic & Art

★ Heart on Your Sleeve | Drarry, T, 5k

Draco’s finally returned to England after fleeing to France when he was turned into a vampire. Pansy and Blaise try to drag Draco's moping ass out of Malfoy Manor, but he’s still reluctant while doing so. Until he stumbles upon Potter’s cafe.

★ Green Heart | Drarry, G, 899 words

Seeing Draco’s dexterity with his hands, Draco’s father lets him pursue various Arts for him to develop his skills, including origami. Ensuring Draco strives to practice and excel, his father provides him with an endless supply of ordinary and magical papers. One special type changes colour depending on one’s mood when touched, making for an interesting folding process. A curious Draco tries it out.

Art & Fic Recs

★ Origami fic rec (onbeinganangel) 

★  Origami fic rec (orange-peony)

★ Origami fic rec (InnerLilith)

★  Origami fic rec (softlystarstruck)

★  Author appreciation origami rec: Baz

★  Origami advent masterlist

★  Appreciation Post (thedrarrylibrarian)

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hiii Jalebi🧚.. *bounding at you with love and well wishes 💕💕*

Hope this ask finds you in great health and happiness 💛

Late night bug in my brain 🧠 : how cool would it have been if Payal was the one who noticed arshi's chemistry for the first time!? During payash's marriage??😯😍

Or if she found out about the "contract" marriage before Khushi does😱? Or about Shyam's fake will papers?

I mean there's a very slight chance of this happening but imagine if anyyy of these things happening! There's a lot of potential for payash's quality screen space with actual story moving with them.

If she did indeed find out about their 6 month arrangement, how do you think things would go? Would arshi have the time and space to learn the truth and make up to eachother?

Omg I'd kill to see a protective payal once more after the "bahu-ficaton" of the Gupta sisters.. what are your thoughts 🤯🤓

I thought you'd like the idea, but if you've already answered anything like this, please tag them, I'd love to read them.

Yours,

💃.

Hello love 🌸

Thank you for the love *bundling up the hugs and sending it right back at you *

Hope you’re doing well too!

Ok the whole show would’ve been cooler if Akash and Payal had more depths because:

1. Contributed more to the IPK. world (the more prominence surroundings and side characters have, the richer the world becomes)

2. Payal plays a strong role in Khushi’s life and a character who greatly impacts Khushi’s life!

3. Akash and Payal were a foil to Arnav and Khushi (something the show only used in two places, the new year and honeymoon and both scenes were amazing)

My answers on Payal largely comes from the character we saw in the first 200 episodes. The protective sister and practical lover. If she was ready to break her marriage again to expose a truth, you can imagine the lengths she’d go if she learned about the circumstances of Khushi’s marriage. Payal wouldn’t actively take decisions for it’s not her story nor is she developed as a parallel lead like Gunjan in Miley jab hum tum. Rather she would be a non villainous antagonist.

Why antagonist? Well an antagonist’s goal is opposite from the protagonists’ and since Payal wouldn’t want arshi together but arshi would, so she’d be a compelling antagonist because she’d care immensely for Khushi and dislike Arnav.

And Khushi would be torn between the sister she loves and the man she loves.

And it would be wonderfully complicated because Arnav hasn’t ever confessed his love and has barely even started treating her right. So on what grounds would Khushi fight for her unrequited (to her) love for Arnav versus the very strong, loyal and unflinching love for the sister who always had her back?

Ultimately it would be the conflict between Arnav-Khushi and it would’ve been interesting to watch Cause Arnav has led a lot of the relationship on his assumptions so would our guy be able to step out from that and be vulnerable enough to say the right things? Who knows. Would’ve been interesting indeed.

(I reckon Payal was aware Khushi held a different place for Arnav from Diwali but chose to not bring it up - you see her noticing that Khushi has a special sweet box for him and even asking if Arnav left after dropping her home. But seeing Khushi’s distress Payal never raises the matter.)

Keep searching Payal in my Tumblr, you should get anything related to her in my blog then :)

Love love love,

- Jalebi

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

Birthday countdown

Linumi- festival

Linumi, to me kinda sounds like the word "illuminate", so what better way than to dedicate this prompt to the festival of lights. I realized that a lot of work had been put into Halloween ATLA/LOK around this time of year, so I wanted to switch it up a bit. I have had the opportunity to celebrate Diwali a few times over the years, and it has always left me feeling warm and happy. So after some research and recollection, here I am. This will be set in my post-Chaos AU. Happy late Diwali to all you patakas🪔✨

"You look beautiful, Linny." Bumi smirked as he entered the room.

"I know." She answered, grinning uncharacteristically at the mirror.

Bumi beamed at his wife as he watched her glide a set of bangles (that he made sure to match with her betrothal necklace) down her wrist. An advantage of already being dressed for the evening was the opportunity to watch Lin get ready- an activity he enjoyed whether it was her uniform or something more special, like today. In doing so, the new master airbender noticed an uneven pleat that ran from her waist all the way down to her ankles. A simple fold should do the trick, he thought.

Unprompted, he walked closer to her and knelt down to adjust the cotton cloth. Lin smiled in his direction through the mirror, "What are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to fix this- it's not-" The man struggled, frazzled, that when he corrected one pleat, the next one fell apart, and when he corrected that one, the one after that fell too.

Lin looked down and chuckled. It had only been a few months into married life, but spirits, if she didn't wish she had been with this goof sooner.

"There." Bumi smiled at her hips, satisfied with himself.

Lin bent down slightly, gesturing to pull him up by his shoulders while Bumi took his own sweet time standing up, kissing at her navel, her waist, her collar bones, and then her cheek. Lin was pursing her lips by the time he reached out to kiss her nose when Bumi mumbled, "Missed a spot!" against her skin. He swept her up in his arms to pull her closer and nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck, his beard catalyzing the response he wanted to incite.

"Bumi!" Lin giggled. He took that as his cue to gracefully move his mouth onto hers.

"I love you so much." He whispered against her lips.

Lin laughed and gave his lips a quick peck, "Let's go downstairs, we still need to light the diyas, get the lanterns ready for the kids-"

"I just want to be a good host.." Lin pouted.

"Relax, Linny," He blinked at her, "It's the first time we're having people over since the house has been done. They'll cut us some slack if everything isn't perfect." He gave her a cheeky smile.

"Nah, I think you're just happy to see everyone after so long." Bumi offered.

"You know you're the only person I'm going to admit that to, right?" Lin smirked.

"I know," He beamed proudly, "Besides, even if I did tell anyone, they wouldn't believe me."

"Come on now, Bumi." Lin chortled as she tried shaking the man to drag him out of their room and down the stairs. Lin was firing away instructions while Bumi admired just how bright their home was. Strings of lights ran all across the walls, ceilings and railings of the stairs. The smell of incense, coupled with the delicious confections and flowers filled Bumi's heart with glee.

Once they reached the living room, Bumi decided to halt her, "Lin, again, this doesn't have to be perfect-"

She was starting to walk away and a loose metallic piece from her bangle caught itself in Bumi's apparel, yanking her back towards him.

Bumi stifled a laugh and smirked while watching Lin delicately untangle the metal with her bending, taking care not to tear the cloth on his sleeve.

"Weren't you the one fixing the imperfections on my own outfit upstairs not five minutes ago?" The metalbender looked into his eyes once she was done.

"Yeah, but that's different.." He looked away.

"How is that any different?" Lin placed her fingers on his cheek to make him face her.

"Because our house is well decorated, but what makes it a home isn't all this, it's you. You make it perfect. Because you're perfect to me. You adorn this outfit, you make it beautiful- not the way round. So if there's a silly pleat threatening to defy the beauty of perfection that your virtue is, I will fix it." He leaned down to press his forehead against hers.

For a moment they closed their eyes, exhaled, and relaxed against each other.

"I love you so much, Bumi."

But before the airbender could respond, they heard a familiar bellowing sound descending towards their home. The couple pulled away and smiled. Their guests were. This, was perfect, they decided.

"I'll bring the sweets," Lin started walking towards the kitchen.

"I'll get the door." Bumi adjusted the scarf around his neck.

Lin looked around the house on her way. They had indeed spared no expense in embellishing it up. No matter how many diyas, rangolis, lights or lanterns they had hung up, nothing made her life brighter than he did.

So before he got to the door, she called out to him.

"Bumi, you're the light of my life." She gushed as he turned around.

"And you, Linny, you're my hot firecracker." He winked.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Family Prayer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Buttercup and Diwali are not things that go together. So even though Katniss dosen't like him much, she and Peeta try to make things easier for Buttercup on that day. [submitted by @everlurked​]

Rating: Fluffy G

Author’s Note: This is a story about Diwali and wouldn’t have been possible without @cadsingh77​ who spent weeks allowing me to ask all sorts of questions about Diwali and what it means to her. I patterned it on her descriptions. She read it, as well, to make sure there were no cultural faux pas. I apologize if there is anything amiss. Also, I’m remiss if I do not mention @norbertsmom​ who at the eleventh hour betaed this story. She’s my rock my bestie, and I would be nothing without her.

__________

Peeta glanced at his suit in the closet. His hands shook. 

In a few hours he was going to meet the family of the love of his life. 

He looked at the phone in his hands. He was lying in bed researching everything Diwali. His girlfriend Katniss had gone over the topic. She explained that just as sunset happens an elaborate puja, a prayer ceremony is done in a temple to begin the holiday. But to most Trinidadians or Trinis, as she called herself, like her family, they said little personal prayers in front of Laxmi, Saraswati and Ganesh and then they would light the diyas, little clay lamps, that they were going to placed in all of the rooms of the house. 

Katniss made it all sound so simple. Diwali was a celebration of light. A victory over darkness. A day to wear new clothing, beautiful jewelry, sing, dance, pray, and light diyas. Katniss said any other guests would arrive after the prayers and they would have a ton of food and everyone would eat and hang out, kids would light sparklers, and there would be singing and dancing too. 

Curious, Peeta watched every Bollywood movie on Netflix. Movies, however, never really explained everything. He put the phone down. He had to  be honest with himself; Katniss’ assurances aside, he was a fish out of water no matter what he did. He was going to meet the most important people in Katniss’s life, her family.

In contrast, his parents were Dan and Cindy from Port Jefferson, Long Island. They owned a bakery near the ferry. They were dull people, they were like the parents of Ian Miller from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But a lot colder and more dysfunctional, dressed in tans and beiges. Peeta constantly questioned why they would own a bakery that matched the color of bland. They never veered from the menu. Never introduced a new seasonal baked good. Peeta was stuck in that rut until he met Katniss and his entire world changed and color was introduced into his life.

Katniss was the electric jolt that kickstarted his dull heart to life. 

The first time he tasted roti, the buttery tasting flat bread he literally cried. 

From the pictures that Katniss shared of her family, he could tell they were a riot of awesomeness. 

Katniss and her parents hailed from Trinidad and Tobago. Her family moved to Long Island from Germany. Her father was an engineer and physicist. He worked at the superconductor in Germany and then came to Long Island so that he could work on a project at Brookhaven National Laboratory. Her mother worked at Stony Brook University. She ran the nursing department. 

Peeta and Katniss both attended Stony Brook University. He was on his way to a yoga class and she was in her Pink boxing class. From the glass covered room Peeta watched her hit the punching bag like Joe Fraser, and he was a goner. Peeta had a thing for strong women. His first middle school girlfriend bossed him and made him carry her books to and from class and he was a sucker for her, but she broke his heart. She told him she was only using him to get to his older brother Ryan. Peeta battled so much darkness in his life and what he needed was to chase the darkness away and to let the light into his heart. But he couldn’t deny he liked strong women. 

There was something about a strong alpha woman who knew how to get things done, unlike his mother who was passive aggressive, and banged the pots in the kitchen and slammed refrigerator doors. 

He sighed as he worried about tomorrow. He googled Diwali’s greetings and butchered the language as he tried to speak in Hindi. 

Peeta sighed heavily.

Katniss’s mother invited him over the phone. She wanted him to come over before the prayers began. It was an honor because he was Katniss’ boyfriend, someone she chose despite her father trying to get her to date the son of a friend of his. Katniss put her figurative foot down and claimed she was dating Peeta. Her father didn’t want to meet him, but he knew of him. 

So the pressure was on to be perfect. He didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing, especially in front of her family. His hands shook, this was important. He wanted to make a good impression on Katniss’ family, even if her father didn’t like him or the idea of him. Peeta wanted them to like him because, truth be told, his own family didn’t like him. 

Peeta loved his family, but ever since he was little, he knew he didn’t fit into the landscape of his family. He was labeled as the emotional one. He was too irreverent for them. Peeta liked color. He loved to paint. He enjoyed the change in seasons where his family loved one season, summer, because they generated the most money then. 

His family liked one or two flavors. Peeta loved all flavors, spicy ones, bold ones, subtle ones. They hated that he was always pushing to change the menu at the bakery. His childhood room was always the one his parents never showed off, because as a teen he painted the walls of his room every shade of orange. Peeta knew they sighed in relief when he decided to stay in the dorms at Stony Brook. His football scholarship allowed him to have that opportunity. He trained hard, studied hard, and loved hard. 

“Katniss,” her name escaped his lips like fervent prayer and a wish. He loved her, was consumed by her, and he was so overly happy that she invited him to meet her family for Diwali. And now he had so much pent up energy he couldn’t sleep. 

His teammates made fun of him, because he got a goofy lopsided I-got-my-hippopotamus-at-Christmas type grin, whenever Peeta thought of Katniss. He closed his eyes picturing her olive skin, thick straight dark hair braided into a rope, small pert nose, and silvery eyes that were breathtaking. Though it wasn’t her physical parts that made him fall in love. It was the woman who lay beneath the surface.

What made him sit up and take notice of Katniss after he saw her box, and he was out of the yoga room, was that there was a blonde girl at the gym working out. There were these idiots guys making fun of her, calling that poor girl fat, just because she was full figured. Katniss walked straight up to the guys and gave them a scowl full of fire and brimstone, called the girl hot and told her that if she were gay she’d do her in an instant. Then she told the guys that they could jackknife themselves off the roof of the building. Peeta had never seen anything sexier in his life. Katniss was full of fire and she was resplendent more so than the sun. 

His phone buzzed drawing him away from his memories as the message came in.

KATNISS: Why are you still up?

Peeta grinned, his phone betrayed him. In some phones a little dot showed up next to the person when they were on their phone. Katniss must have noticed. 

PEETA: Stalk much.

KATNISS: LOL

Peeta could see those three little dots moving as she wrote a reply. 

For the most part Katniss wasn’t a talker. Unless she was passionate about the topic and then she was a chatterbox.

KATNISS: FUNNY. Seriously, tomorrow is going to be a long day. You need to sleep.

PEETA: Because tomorrow I am going to meet your family.

Peeta could see her rolling her eyes even through the phone.

KATNISS: You don’t have to be nervous. 

PEETA: If you tell me all I have to do is be myself, I swear I am going to come dressed as Buddy the Elf.

KATNISS: Dork.

PEETA: Yes, but I’m your dork.

KATNISS: They’re going to love you.

Peeta sighed. 

PEETA: This is important. I want to make a good impression. Your family is important to you and given that my family…

Peeta sighed. He’d brought Katniss to the bakery to meet his family because they didn’t have time for him. His father was pleasant. His mother, however, spoke loudly and slowly as if Katniss didn’t speak English. Katniss spoke various languages and was extremely intelligent. Her mother wanted her to be a doctor, but Katniss had a passion for the environment. Her major was environmental studies, with a minor in geology. She was brilliant and he felt like the dumb jock.

KATNISS: Your family is fine, well except for Ryan. Someone needs to examine him.

Peeta chuckled. His brother Rye stared at Katniss as if she was Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation all rolled up into one. He then proceeded to flirt with Katniss, by using every campy movie line known to mankind. In typical Rye fashion because he’d done it before to their other brother Lyle. Unfortunately in that instance the girl in question dumped Lyle to go out with Rye. 

He sighed. That was his dysfunctional family. Family gatherings were uncomfortable events. They weren’t exactly nice to one another.

PEETA: I have no excuse for my brother.

Peeta decided to follow his text with a self deprecating joke. A truth, his family thought him the odd one in the family. 

PEETA: But Ryan isn’t the bad apple. I’m not sure you know this, but I am the black sheep of the family.

KATNISS: You mean the sexy one.

A grin spread on his face at her compliment. 

Katniss’ family was conservative, and by extent, so was Katniss. He respected her boundaries and her values.  Family was everything to her and he loved her because of it, Katniss would lay her life on the line for her family. 

PEETA: Have I told you today how much I love you.

KATNISS: No, but I do love to hear you say it.

Peeta pressed the little microphone and recorded his voice, which sounded rougher to his ears than normal.

PEETA: (a voice email) I love you Katniss. I love your mind. I love your kindness. I love how you always talk about your sister Prim. I love the way you adore your dad. I love the way you look up to your mother. I think you are the most beautiful soul. And I am nervous because if you are wonderful, then your family has to be just as great.

He meant every word. 

They’d been dating for the last few months, but they’d been friends for two years. They weren’t easy years because of their schedules in school and the fact that her father had a mild heart attack right after they met. Peeta put himself in the friend zone because that’s what Katniss needed. He didn’t want her to feel pressure to feel romantic toward him when her dad, the most important man in her life, was ill. 

In the end, the bonds of friendship grew to a love so sweet and pure, that it shined out of her silver eyes. The first time she realized the love she held for him was more than friendship left him breathless, like stepping into a world filled with brilliant colors, light and joy. 

KATNISS: (a voice email) I love you too.

Her voice was breathy and filled with her heartfelt emotion.

Peeta couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

KATNISS: Now as for tomorrow, don’t worry. When they see what a great guy you are, they will love you.

Peeta sighed.

KATNISS: NOW GO TO SLEEP, MELLARK!

PEETA:  Yes ma’am.

He grinned and would have followed her directions, but instead he stood from his bed and went into his suite kitchen. He needed to bake. It was the only thing he knew that would calm him down. He decided to make chocolate using the vegetarian items he purchased in the store. Come the morning he would make the Laddoos he planned to bring with him. In Hindi they were called Laddu but in Trinidad they were known as Laddoo.

Making the chocolate eased his nerves, so he actually got some sleep. In the morning, he showered and set to work on making the Laddoos. By three o’clock he was done, and all he had to do was wrap up the presents. Taking a red ribbon, he tied each box the way he’d done so many times at the bakery. 

His suitemates were gone. No doubt causing trouble somewhere on campus, which gave Peeta the time he needed to get ready. He took out his new suit. Even though Katniss told him he could wear a nice pair of slacks and shirt, Peeta bought a suit that was on sale for the special occasion. 

Taking a deep breath he took the small presents he had for her family. They weren’t necessary, but he wanted to make a good impression. He gathered up the Laddoos, the chocolate, the flowers - marigolds he sourced at the local home depot, and the paintings he made of her family made from the memory of the pictures she’d shown him. 

He drove, heading to the Everdeen home in Mount Sinai. The cottage-like house looked like something out of a movie or TV show: warm, inviting, like a real home, one filled with love, and not pretend.

As he walked up, he could hear laughter, genuine laughter, followed by singing and joy. Running a hand through his blond wavy locks he took a deep breath. “Okay Mellark, just be yourself,” he whispered, as he stood in front of the door.  

He raised his hand to knock on the door and his breath caught at the man standing there looking more like a navy seal instead of a physicist. This was Katniss’ dad. His chrome eyes were hard and they took him apart, much the way a defensive end could read a play and pick it apart while holding their defense line.  

“Happy Diwali.” Peeta tried to say confidently but his voice cracked. He could feel himself sweating.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “You are Peeta Mellark.”

Peeta nodded.

“Rahul!” A statuesque woman with blonde hair and pale blue eyes swatted Katniss’ father’s arm. He watched her sneak around him, dressed in a traditional red sari with gold thread. “Please behave.” Mrs. Everdeen quietly gave her husband a look. Her golden bangles clinked as she placed her hand dramatically on her hip. Peeta was glad Katniss had gone over the different fashions. He studied each one because he would do anything for Katniss. 

Peeta watched as her father’s hard analytical eyes softened the moment he beheld Katniss’ mother. Peeta could see how Katniss’ parents were a unit of one. They were in love and either one would fight the shadows and all of the evil in the world for their other half.  “Anjali.”

“I am Katniss’ mother, this is her father,” her pale eyes sparkled. “Please come in, we were waiting for your arrival. Come in,” she ushered him.

The home was two stories, to the left a halfway with rooms, to the right a living room, dining area, and a den to the far back. The house was decorated with warm rich colors, but everything was tied around the family, as pictures dotted the walls. There were lights everywhere hanging from the walls, the clay diya’s sat on the mantel.  Peeta stood in front of a picture of Katniss on her father’s shoulders, her twin braids flowing, her eyes crinkled in pure happiness. 

“Ohhhh you’re cute,” a younger, but deeper voice than Katniss’ said with impish mischief. 

Primrose took after Katniss’ mother, with the flaxen hair and the pale blue eyes.  Katniss explained that her mother was of British descent, while her father’s family, although sporting a European name, was from India. His great-grandparents came to Trinidad, fell in love with the island and stayed. 

Her mother walked away from her very wealthy family back in Trinidad to marry Katniss’ father. It was a little like they were the original Romeo and Julliet. 

His parents got together because his dad knocked up his mom.

“Primrose!” Mrs. Everdeen admonished. 

“What,” Prim said. Her pale blue eyes were inquisitive as she walked around him. The way Katniss talked about her sister, Peeta had expected a little kid, but Prim was as tall as he was. Her loose  pajama-like trousers that narrowed at her ankles, called shalwar, swooshed around as she made her round. Her red kameez, a flowing tunic with intricate gold patterns reminded Peeta of the pattern Mrs. Everdeen wore on her sari.

Prim was everything Katniss was not. She was a bold bright bubbly girl, who at this moment was making sure he was the real deal and not some mindless jerk. He stood, letting her because it was important that her family liked him. He wanted to be accepted. He felt his face flame up under the scrutiny. 

“I understand why my boring sister is constantly sighing.”

Peeta grinned, then he said, “Oh these are for you.” He gave them the presents. The flowers, the chocolate, and the sweetened chickpea Laddoos he made by hand for them.

“Oh these are fragrant, where did you purchase them?”

“He made them.” The soft voice that came behind him made his heart rate triple.

Peeta turned around and there stood Katniss wearing an emerald green lenghas. She had explained what it looked like, but at this moment, his brain that was always filled with words was momentarily empty, vanquished by her beauty. He swallowed, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes darted from the perfection of her face with those silvery eyes that captivated him, and the peek of dark hair that was hidden by the sari. 

Katniss held a shiny brass plate, she called a Tarrier, but in Hindi it was known as a Thali, containing coconut, almonds, and other sweets. Katniss told him the plate belonged to her great-grandmother Veronica. When her mother married her father, her great-grandmother gave it to her insisting it should go to her first born. He swore for a second he could see a miniature Katniss with his eyes staring up at him and holding the Tarrier. 

“He made them?” Primrose asked, Peeta could hear the intense curiosity in her sister’s voice. 

“His family are bakers, and Peeta is an amazing cook.”

“Really,” her father said, and his voice, the way he said that one word snapped Peeta out of his hazy fog. 

“Ah,” he nervously said. “I made her cheese buns,” Peeta felt the heat rising from his neck and caused those red splotches that his brothers made fun of. 

“Cheese buns,” her father repeated. 

“When you were in the hospital, daddy,” her eyes did not hide the pain of recalling those days. “Peeta noticed I wasn’t eating and cajoled me into eating cheese buns,” Katniss words were so soft. “He was the friend I leaned on for support when…” her voice trailed.

Peeta watched her father’s face take a look of adoring tenderness at his eldest, and when his eyes turned to Peeta they weren’t as frosty as they had been. 

“He even took me to temple to pray,” Katniss whispered.

“In Selden?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Katniss quietly said.

“Rahul,” Katniss’ mother chided. She cupped his cheeks, “Such a nice young man. Did you make the chocolate as well?” 

Peeta nodded, his eyes went back to her father. He couldn’t mess this up. 

Her mother smiled serenely, then her eyes lit with happiness as if she made a startling connection. “Oh! Pundit Sharma was right; they were destined in the stars.”

“Star crossed lovers just like you and mom,” Prim said. 

Her father cut his eyes away. 

“Oh my, these chocolates….” Prim moaned. 

“Primrose!” Her mother admonished. 

“What, he said they were for us,” Prim shrugged, plopping a chocolate in her mouth. “I’d say he’s golden. So what does a cheese bun taste like?” 

“Primrose, really, must you think only of your stomach?” Katniss shook her head. 

“Girls,” their father said in a stern tone of voice. “It’s near sunset. Upstairs with the lot of you. I swear corralling a dozen baby ducks would be easier.” 

The women headed upstairs. Peeta wasn’t sure, but her father swept a hand for him to follow him upstairs.

Peeta wasn’t sure what he was expecting, hopefully like something out of Khabi Kushi Khabi Gham. They had a small altar where he watched all of the women present the offerings and began to bow their heads. He stood behind quietly observing, but when Katniss began to pray it was like a song and her words that he didn’t understand wrapped around his heart and his lashes fluttered closed and a single tear fell down his face. Song after song her voice combined with that of her father, her mother and sister caused him to realize just how much he wanted to be part of this family, to be loved and accepted. 

He too prayed for a family to want him, to be needed. 

Peeta was so wrapped up in the moment when it was over he opened his eyes to find her mother standing before him with trembling lips, and watery blue eyes.

“Bend down son,” her father said with warmth in his voice. “She’s going to honor you by putting the sindoor on your forehead.” He pointed to his forehead, though his eyes had completely lost the frost. They were filled with admiration and the same warmth he had in his voice. Her father looked at Katniss and nodded as if giving her his blessings. 

Unsure if what he had just seen was real, his eyes went to Katniss,  but Prim said, “Go ahead Peeta, my father has just fallen for you too.” Her voice squeaked with that enthusiasm only a teenager could have. She wiped the tears from her face as well. 

Peeta bent down slightly. Mrs. Everdeen’s hand slipped to the Tarrier and with her ring finger she pressed it into the red dust Katniss’ father called sindoor.

The press of her finger was light. “When my daughter marries you. You will sprinkle this sindor over the part in her hair to symbolize her marriage to you.”

Peeta’s eyes flew to her father who nodded. “Welcome to the family son.” He clasped his back and said. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Peeta couldn’t help but grin. He gazed at Katniss who came to him, her smile shy. He was going to follow them, but katniss put her hand on his, then stepped up and placed a small peck on his cheek. Then winked sassily. “I told you they would love you.” 

And like that, his prayers were answered; he now had a family. 

Years later, when he stood in the same position watching his little girl singing the puja, holding the brass tarrier, alongside Katniss. Just as in that memory from years ago he listened to Katniss voice blend with their daughter. Their voices blended in with his father-in-law Rahul, Primrose and her soon to be fiancé. Peeta was grateful that his prayers were answered, the darkness was swept away and light filled his soul.  And he was granted the family he always wanted.

[joyfulhopelox]

Thank you for listening to Ranjha :) I am glad you liked the song. This ask might be all over the place because I want reply to each part of your answer😅 I have posted the poem but I might take it down. Would you like to read it? 👉👈

Thank you for the fic recs! I'll definitely check them out when I can. Diwali is really a beautiful festival, as for the helping bit, I guess it depends? Some of us volunteer, while the others distribute clothes, food and give money to orphanages or slum areas, we also give sweets and an extra amount to the people who work for us.

And I'll stay hydrated and not overwork :) Thank you 💙

I am glad you'd still like to keep in touch after the event as well ☺️

And ooh, you have a cat?! I love cats so so much. What's her/his name?

And writing and snacking are some of my guilty pleasures too, I'd say reading fanfics is one as well (also watching random Indian dramas but shh)

And it's fine for you to not respond immediately, take care of yourself ❤️

-🎄 secret santa anon

Hello 🎄 secret santa anon! How are you? No need to thank me I am more than happy to listen to new music! And i really liked it! It is ok my answer will be similar, all over the place! But i dislike leaving something unresponded to. Please do share your poem! I would love to read! I want to say do not take it down, but if you feel uncomfortable about something so personal then I understand, but I feel like if you want to take it down because you think it is not enough, please do not do that 💜 be confident it is your work and you put time in it. It is worth everything! 💜

I hope you enjoy these recs! I do not have that many saved but I remember a lot of what i read mainly because i find very little time to read so when i do i read what i have on my looooong list. It's not getting smaller as everyone keeps writing amazing things.

I really wish I knew more about it, but I am reading on it at the moment, as i realised i had little knowledge outside of what my friends have told me, and i know sometimes the way people celebrate can be individual? Oh that is incredibly nice, are you happy volunteering? It sounds like you do, what will you be doing this year?

Please reach out whenever! I am more than happy to chat, I hope i have not given the opposite impression! That would make me sad if i did :( I do have a cat! His name is Nugget (or alternatives Bugget, Chicken Fillet) he is a black cat, and he is a 2 year old baby throwing a tantrum. But he is cute and I love him. Do you have any pets?

Ohhhh i support writing and snacking and the watching of random Indian dramas definitely stan! What are you watching at the moment?

Sorry for the long reply! Take care of yourself hope you have an amazing week! 💜

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 01.12.20 lb

ishani like this grubby-pawed bitch took control of the whole place the second you were gone, but dadi’s like okkkkkkk hold your horses, that’s not the whole truth. she did what she was supposed to. what you would have done if you were here.

V looking left-right like he’s watching a tennis match, listening to the devil and angel on his shoulders lol.

hein???? maut ke 40th day? i thought he said 16 days in the last ep???? 16 days for the ghaav to fill and what not in that convo kabir and him had....... HOW LONG HAVE Y’ALL BEEN STANDING HERE HAVING THIS SCENE???????????????

anyway, bhai is really calling her out for getting all ready to become suhaagan again not 40 days after he went missing. body tak nahi mili thi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

dadi again coming to her defense again. thank god. warna madam toh mooh nahi kholti, aur khadi khadi beizzati sehti rehti, from a dude who as far as she knows isn’t even her real husband.

shoulder devil is back to add some more mirch masala to story.

lol kabir’s bhaiyya waale feelings for ishani are long-dead and gone. he’s like “isse chhodke bohut badi galti kardi. current mein jhulas ke marr gayi hoti toh aaj itna mooh nahi phaadti” hahahahahahaha. little sisters, huh, kabir???? a real pain, amirite?????

lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooo ishani’s like GHOOOOOOOOOOOORTA KYA HAI BEYYYY???? ASLKAJDSALKDJLAKJS WHEN I SAY I LOVE THIS GIRL THE FUCKING MOST IN THIS SHOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!

riddhima is very happy to hear ishani proclaim from danke ki chottttt pe ki meraaaaa vansh bhaiiiiiii, iss ghar ka asli haqqdaaar waapas aa gaya hai!!!!!

lmaoooooooooooooooooooooo chachi is like oh god ishani agli class humari lagayegiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. LORDDDDDD I WISH.

but nope, she’s on her fave topic “we hate riddhima” so she’s gonna be on this soapbox for a while now.

ishani said riddhima has a “sharp brain” and lmao ok. yeah sure, her brain as sharp as a fucking bowling ball. i’ve seen pillows and goldfish bowls that are sharper than riddhima’s fucking brain. she’s a member of the rare and exclusive smooth brain club. no thoughts, this bitch empty, yeeeeeeeeeeeet.

ishani continues to bitch bitch bitch and V ka paara bad raha haiiiiii. death glare getting more and more intense.

oh dang!!!!!!!!!!!

LMAO RIDDHIMA’S DUMB ASS IS LIKE “WOW, GOOD JOB VIHAAN, TUM WAISE HI REACT KAR RAHE HO JAISE VANSH KARTA!” MAN I CAN’T WITH HOW GODDAMN STOOOOPID SHE IS ANYMORE.

LOL WHUTTTT???? ARE THEY GONNA FIGHT WITH THESE FLAMING HAVAN KUND LAKDIIIIIS???? HAHAHAHA.

the bloodlust in riddhima’s eyes is a biggggggg mood, lol. i too would like to see these two fight again. preferably shirtless. 

damnit kabir decided to be the bigger man and throw the stick back into the havan kund.

blah blah he’s like sautela hi sahi, you’re still my brother. i don’t want you to misunderstand me. i left no stone unturned looking for your body. and i was gonna leave the city. but riddhima thought i should take on the responsibilities of this house.

riddhima and V’s reactions to this bs, lmao.

anyway, he’s like now you’re back, it’s best i leave. i’m going to take something that’s precious to me, it’s my right.

lol pls. he’d murder this Mummy in a fucking heartbeat for a hissa of this riyaasat.

LMAO ISSKI KHUSHI TOH DEKHOOOOO. I LOVE IT.

Mummy like kabir tfffff you doing, this is not our plan!!!!!! aunty, learn to cut your losses. honestly. this is why y’all don’t win.

“ruko!!!!!!!!!!!”

manhooson ka reaction.

LMAO ISHANI’S REACTION. SHE’S HONESTLY THE MOST RELATABLE PERSON HERE.

“tumhe nahi lagta ki tum mujhse bohut hi keemti cheez cheen ke lee jaa rahe ho???”

Mummy like yesssssss, my time to shine, time for Mamta Overload Acting.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA.

lol riddhima and ishani’s reactions, while dadi is closing her eyes in horror at his bad manners.

RIDDHIMA’S DUMBASS IS STILL LIKE, I DIDN’T TELL VIHAAN THIS IS VANSH’S SAAFA, THEN HOW DID HE KNOW????????????

“thank you. jo mera hai, woh mera hi rahega.”

bwahahahahahahahahahahaha ghazabbbbbb beizzati.

riddhima has never been this turned on in her lifeeeeee.

OH HO. NOW I GET THAT ANON WHO WAS CUSSING OUT DADIIIII. OUFFFFFFFF YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR DADIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

V ka baahari face is:

but his internal face is:

same as wifey and sis, lol.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh dadi’s laying on the emotional blackmail thickkkkkkk ki are you really my vansh, my vansh always kept his relationships close no matter how much tension blah blah. fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk.

“dushmani bohut nibhaa li. ab rishtey nibhaatey hain.”

MMMMHMMMMM YEAH I’D LIKE TO SEE Y’ALL BE RISHTA’D WITH EACH OTHER. SEAL THIS DEAL WITH A KISS, BOYSSSSSS!!!!!

ok fine a hug will do too.

LMAO THE MURDER LOOKS ON BOTH SIDES I LOVE THESE PETTY ASSHOLES SO MUCH.

aslkjdlaskjdlaskjdlaskjdlaksjdlkjasldkjlaskdjlaskjdlsakdlaskldjlas time for kabir to get an angre of his own (mishra?????) coz V is fully threatening to destroyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy him where he stands.

bwahahahahahaha that sweet as pie smile. butter wouldn’t melt in this mouth.

riddhima like ugh, ok anyway, time to carry out predetermined maafi kaaryakram.

lmao she’s telling vihaan ki mere vansh ka dil bohutttttt bada tha, aur woh hota toh mujhe maaf kar deta, and his face hahahahahahahaha:

‘yeah, not anymore, b. that was before you betrayed me and made me jump off a cliff, all for that chomu ex of yours.’

hahahahahahahahahahahaha he’s gone off-script. going super duper hard on the dhokaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

omggggggggggggg he’s going into details ki dadi just told you to marry him secure your future, she wouldn’t have expected you to say yes AND THIS IDIOT GIRL IS LIKE HAS VIHAAN BEING WATCHING THE HOUSE FROM BEFORE????????? THE THOUGHT THAT HE’S VANSH STILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL HASN’T CROSSED HER PEA SIZED BRAIN. HONESTLY I CANNOT WITH HER ANYMORE.

lol she’s hissing “yeh kyaaaaa naatak laga rakha hai????” par bhai toh apne alag hi trip par hain. character mein ghussnaa isse hi kehte hain, riddhima. good thing daniel day-lewis has already retired, coz this one reallllllly coming for his spot with the intenseeeee method acting.

dadi is like beta plssssssssssssss, but ishani and chachi are piling on riddhima. love them messy bitches.

ALSO OH MY GOD HE’S GIVING HER THIS VERYYYYYYYYYYYYY VANSH-Y LOOK AND SHE STILL HASN’T GOTTEN IT WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?

“i want a divorce.”

even kabir is scandalized at the turn of events!!!!!!!!!!!

but lmao, ishani’s reaction is best, as usual.

HE WENT UPSTAIRS AND PACKED A SUITCASE FOR HER AND THREW IT AND RIDDHIMA STILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL IS WONDERING HOW DOES HE KNOW SO MANY DETAILS THAT I DIDN’T TELL HIM?!?!!?!?!?!?! re deva uthaaaaa le mujheeeeeeeeeeee.

“jab tak divorce nahi ho jaata, tum outhouse mein rahogi.”

inke liye toh diwali waapas aa gayi saal mein doosri baar.

dadi is trying to intervene and lmao ishani is emotionally blackmailing her saying don’t increase bhai ka darddddddd by opposing him this time.

“kabhi nahi socha tha ki tum aisa kuch karoge. apni maa ki kasam khaayi thi tumne.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA V YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUU

lmao waise bhi maa toh already marr chuki hai, jhoooti kasam khaane se kaunsa dobara marr jaati?

trollololololololololol ghar se get outhouse kar diyaaaa (only my fellow mallus gonna get this joke.)

nanad is here to help. “itna haq toh mera bhi banta haina!”

PEHLI BAAR ISS MANHOOS KE HARKATON PE HASSI AUR PYAAR AAYA HAI. GOOOOOOD JOB, V2.0!!!!! KEEEEEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!!!!!!!

[wishingitwerewolfstar]

bravery and other obscenities

my @wolfstar-secret-santa gift for @smartass-mee, hope you like it!!

Remus was going to be late for class.

Admittedly, so was Sirius, but this was both less rare and less consequential. All a professor had to do was glance at Sirius' smile and his last name on the roster before suddenly their stack of detention slips was mysteriously missing and it was 'Well, I suppose it won't happen again, will it?' even though it had happened before and all involved and observing parties knew it most certainly would happen again.

Remus, on the other hand, would be scrubbing cauldrons until the house elves began to make breakfast the next morning.

All because Sirius had insisted on going the long way, through the left wing, for no reason apparent to Remus.

He wasn't as mad about it as he would have liked to be though.

Honest, he kept trying to be mad, because his education was important, as was his time, and he wanted to care about lecture even if some things (like the odd fullness in his chest and the every movement Sirius' thumb made against the back of Remus' hand) loomed larger in his mind.

It was new, so new, and yet it felt ancient. It felt like Remus had had Sirius’ heart forever, probably because, if he's honest with himself, Sirius had had Remus’ heart forever, long before their fumbled confessions and kisses in the pumpkin patch the month before.

So when Sirius took the long way, Remus followed.

Sirius stepped closer and pressed a kiss to Remus' cheek, lingering and firm and warm.

Remus froze and almost fought the blush off his cheeks before remembering he didn’t have to anymore. He had other options now, like, for example, guiding Sirius’ chin with the ends of his fingers until they were properly kissing, and resting a hand on his waist while he was at it. 

Finally, Remus pulled away because he did have some level of concern for tardiness. He was definitely going to get detention but that didn’t mean he had to miss the whole lecture. Sirius only smiled at him with somewhat labored breathing and shakily pointed up above them.

“Sorry, Moony, there was some mistletoe. Nothing to be done for it.”

Remus nodded with a certain lightness between his lungs as he pretended not to see Sirius slip his wand back into his pocket and hurried them off to class. 

James had brought some of his lights from Diwali back out and arranged them around their room, and Remus had set his grandfather’s menorah out on his dresser, Peter was decorating a tree he very proudly reported he cut down himself (with the help of his wand) from the Forbidden Forest (and subsequently magically shrunk down to a manageable size). It was an impressive bit of magic, if perhaps not an impressive feat of manual labor. Sirius had announced that he was in charge of “the ambiance” when it came to decor, which apparently meant covering absolutely every possible surface in ribbon or garland, no matter how many times James complained of the loose bits of evergreen in his shoes. 

It also, apparently, meant hanging mistletoe directly over Remus’ bed.

“I wish I could help you Moony, but it’s just absolutely necessary for the decor.” Sirius explained as he changed into his pajamas for the night, “If I move it anywhere else, it’ll mess with the energy flow, and it could potentially ruin Christmas. And Hannakuh. And Solstice and all of the above. The spirit of the holiday season rests on the precise placement of this mistletoe. You wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, would you?”

“I don’t suppose I would,” said Remus, trying to be subtle about his disappointment when the brief period between Sirius’ uniform and his pajama shirt came to an end.

“Then it’s settled,” Sirius nodded with an air of self-importance before making a huge show of tripping over what appeared to be thin air and sticking a shaky landing which just so happened to be under the mistletoe.

An innocent face and a few steps later, Sirius got what he wanted, and stepped away some time later thoroughly kissed. 

"Truly unfortunate, to be sure," Sirius said, swaying from side to side a bit as if in a cartoon, "but it's strictly necessary for the good of mankind."

Remus nodded, "Whatever you say, baby."

Then he walked away smiling, with his back to the sounds of Sirius slowly dying where he'd left him.

Wednesday night after Sirius had finished helping Remus with his testosterone shot like usual, they stood in the empty dorm, with an awkward distance between them neither knew how to cross. 

Sirius ran his hands through his hair, a habit he’d picked up from James, “Do you, um, maybe want to go for a walk?”

Remus blinked, “A walk?”

“Yeah.”

Remus racked his brain for the last time someone had asked him to simply go for a walk, not a game of pick up quidditch or a snowball fight or quick few hexes at whatever Slytherins might be lurking around the dungeons. “Have you been spending too much time in dog form?”

“No, I just. You know. Thought it would be nice to go for a walk. Or not, if you don’t want to. We could go to the astronomy tower though. Or anywhere! Or nowhere! It’s all fine with me, honestly,” Sirius’ cheeks were terribly pink and he’d quite suddenly lost the ability to hold eye contact. Oh, Remus realized like the first breath above the surface of the Black Lake, he’s as nervous as I am.

“Pads, it’s fine, let’s go for a walk. We’ll go to the astronomy tower.”

Sirius laughed in a poor attempt to the relieved exhale he let out, “Cool. But we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“Noted. Now are you coming?” Remus held out his hand and Sirius, with a sheepish blush, gratefully took it. 

The astronomy tower was frightfully cold at that time of year, so Remus quickly summoned a blanket and wrapped it around their shoulders once they’d squeezed in next to each other on a windowsill, legs dangling off the side of the tower. Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, and concentrated very hard as he whispered a few different spells, one hand gripping the edge of the blanket and the other his wand. After a few minutes, two mugs of hot chocolate came gently floating up the steps and over towards the windowsill to join them. 

Remus felt a sudden wave of emotions surge up, a mix of affection and the certain amount of attraction Sirius’ natural skill with magic always evoked in Remus.

“Did you know,” Remus took a sip from his mug, far too hot but worth the burned tongue, “that you’re perfect?”

Sirius grinned, “Yes, actually, yes I did.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Merlin, your ego.”

“One of the most attractive things about me, I’d say.”

“You are deeply mistaken.”

“Oh yeah? What would you say is more attractive?” With a smug smile, Sirius leaned in.

Remus leaned out, but he was smiling too, “I’m not playing this game.”

“I think it would be beneficial for you. Get it off your chest.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

Sirius paused a moment and softly nodded, “When we leave for break tomorrow?”

“Mhm”

Sirius turned his eyes to the Forbidden Forest sprawling out in front of them, and Remus took the opportunity to stare openly at Sirius’s profile, feeling safe and yet terrified, protected and protective. This would be Sirius’ first holiday with the Potters, and it stirred up all sorts of tender emotions in Remus, pride, relief, gentle concern about the undoubted mixed feelings Sirus would have but try to deny, and the overwhelming urge to simply hold him, hidden away in bed and comforted until the week was over, though he knew he couldn’t.

“We’ll only be gone a week.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But I’ll miss you too.”

One day, Remus thought, that will not feel like a relief. One day, I will trust that without him having to say it. In return, he said, “Why, do you like me or something? How embarrassing for you.”

Sirius laughed and leaned his head on the stone of the window. Remus gently worried after him. Sirius was so external, so loud about the way he felt usually, that these quiet moments were a language Remus was still trying to learn. He couldn’t quite tell if Sirius was okay, and was about to give in and just ask when Sirius whispered, “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Being happy.”

Remus paused a moment and softly nodded, “Yeah, Pads, it is.”

“I think I like it.”

Remus breathed in, and then out, and he thought about being Gryffindor, and therefore brave, and how that sometimes meant loving good things that might leave someday, “I think I like it too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Remus, after great internal debate, rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius took a deep breath and Remus felt him reach to touch his wand briefly. 

“Oh, huh, look at that,” Sirius whispered in a terribly shaky voice, “Seems we sat under some mistletoe. Funny how we didn’t notice it before.”

“That is funny.”

“Yeah well, I guess it’s pretty easy to get distracted when you’re hanging around with me. I mean, why look at the ceiling when you could be looking at this-”

Remus kissed him. 

When he pulled away, Sirius closed the distance again. Something about this made Remus want to run laps around the castle, but he pulled away again, more softly this time, resting his forehead against Sirius’ as he whispered, “Sirius?”

Sirius had his eyes closed still and pressed his nose against Remus’, “Mhm?”

“Look at me.”

“Gladly.”

Remus nearly felt Sirius’ eyelashes against his face and suddenly Sirius’ eyes, open and trusting, meeting his, offering their full attention, proved to be too much, so Remus lost his train of thought for a moment and had to chase it down again.

When he finally found it, Remus said, “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me.”

Sirius blinked, as if this Remus had said something ridiculous, as if this was a radical concept. “I don’t?”

“You don’t. Not anymore. Not-” Remus hesitated, thinking once again about bravery and other obscenities, “Not ever again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s-” Sirius, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words, and Remus was trying very very hard to keep his newfound confidence afloat until Sirius said, “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

Sirius tucked his wand back in his pocket and brought his hand up to rest on Remus’ cheek, “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They stayed there, in each other’s space, with Sirius running his thumb over Remus’ cheekbone, and for perhaps the first time in a month it was not even a little bit awkward. They were on the same page, and it was decidedly quite a pleasant page to be on.

“Hey Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Remus smiled, already leaning in, “I’d like that.”

[spookyscarykittycat]

our grandparents are really special to all of us and i understand how hard this diwali must be but i hope that wherever your dada is he's doing well and is safe! i usually like to pretend the stars are my love (dead) ones when mess them i just look up and pour my heart out to them and it helps if u ,you know ever want to talk to him...

I think I will wish to talk with him, I will definitely keep that in mind... and thank you for the lovely words! This diwali is a bit hard, but I am pulling myself through! Thanks for this! Happy Diwali honey!

[salmankhanholics]

★  Stylist Ashley Rebello decodes Salman Khan’s Diwali look: It’s festive and bright that would make people say, oh W-O-W!

Nov 14, 2020

The festive vibes have finally knocked on the doors of the Bollywood stars and most of them are flooding the internet with glimpses of their Diwali 2020 celebration. One of them is the superstar Salman Khan who just proved that he doesn’t need fireworks to light up everyone’s social media timeline.

The ‘Dabangg’ actor shared his all-new Diwali look featuring a humble kurta-pyjama as he wrote, “Wishing all a v Happy Diwali n a prosperous new year ... stay safe Styled by @ashley_rebello.”

While the picture is currently sending netizens into a frenzy, ETimes got in touch with the celebrity stylist, Ashley Rebellowho happily decoded the look for us. Excerpts:

Can you please decode Salman Khan’s ethnic ensemble for Diwali 2020 Salman wore a pure silk kurta with block print over a burn rent double dye fabric. It featured a simple collar with cuffs at the wrist, paired with mehendi green pyjamas. What was Salman's plan for his Diwali 2020 look? He never asks me. It’s always me who just decides what to give him, so if it’s good or bad, it’s me to be blamed. Be it for Eid or Diwali, his looks go viral whatever I put up. I wanted to do it a little different, this time I got a designer from Jaipur, Maayera. She got an exclusive fabric dyed for me and I had told her what colour and print I wanted. I told her the kind of stitching and the style of the kurta would go with it. So, in all, it had to be festive, bright and something that when everybody would see, and be like 'Oh wow, refreshing!' How much time did it take to curate the exclusive kurta? It took about a week to finish off the entire making process, including the printing. Luckily the designer works with a lot of people from Rajasthan who are out of employment opportunities. We try to get them to print fabrics using traditional techniques to help them in terms of their skills, art, and labour. It’s like giving back to them this Diwali.

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Killer Queen: Chapter 8 - Scandal

Summary: Life is easy when things go your way. I know this from experience. I also know that that can disappear in an instant and that you have to be able to rely on your friends. Luckily my name is Arabella Ruth White and I’m the fifth marauder. But I want to show you the girl behind the mask. It takes a lot of work to be this fabulous, darling.

A/N: If I got any information about Diwali incorrect, please let me know so I can change it. I'm not Hindu and all of my research was done online and I dread to think how reliable that actually is. Also, happy late Diwali since it wasn't that long ago. That's a lie but let me have this, please.

Drunk Ruth is the funniest thing I've written in a while also more writers need to try writing drunk narrators for their stories because some wack shit comes out of that. Bonus points if alcohol is not featured in the scene at all. Double bonus points if you're writing in the third person. Extra double bonus points if the narrator almost reveals important events that haven't happened yet (could be used as a plot device). The drunkenness was definitely not inspired by the amount of Echo Falls I had last night.

Me?? Including my feminist shit in my stories?? More likely than you think. Please don't start arguing over abortion in the comments though, please. Thank you kindly. I just felt the need to yeet in my opinions about it after all the shit that happened in the USA. 

Sorry for not updating for about six months. It is a bit ridiculous, I know, but oh well. Half-term ended up being a lot busier than anticipated and I had a lot of writer's block and procrastination when I finally got around to writing this. And I did my research and Diwali actually fell on Sirius's birthday in 1975. You would not believe how happy I was about that. If you caught the Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference I love you. The title for this chapter came from Queen's 1989 album, The Miracle. 

Word Count: 3.2k+ (hopefully that makes up for the delay)

Inspiration: You Can’t Make Me Love You by -FromEden- on Wattpad, All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 on AO3, The Boy Who Killed God by @sirius-black-killed-god 

Warning(s): talk of pregnancy and abortion, underage drinking (although it’s in the UK so it’s fine lmao), swearing

Tag List: @bhmay @briarrose26 @bijoukitty

Ask to be on my tag list! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s). The full list is in my bio. Also let me know if you’re on my tag list already but you only want to be on it for a specific fandom(s) I won’t be offended if you ask as long as you’re polite about it tehe.

Never before had Diwali fell on and around Sirius's birthday. James had joked about it many a time in the past but the look on his face when he discovered the date of the next new moon in Astronomy was one of surprise and amusement. This meant Sirius's usual birthday celebrations - a.k.a. a ridiculous party - would have to be slightly altered. Not that the birthday boy minded an awful lot. He was rather fond of the traditions involved and his face lit up like the diyas themselves. The day before had been spent creating Rangoli patterns on the floor of their room, Kingsley thankfully not minding as it was part of James's culture. Also, as it had been a Hogsmede weekend, we spent the majority of the day following James around so he could buy new things for the Hindu new year. And also to get Sirius's birthday presents when he was too distracted by the games in Zonko's. 

James's parents had sent a huge box fall of diyas, all varying in colour and size, that had required four owls to carry. Along with it was a lovely heartfelt letter to all of us, reminding to stay safe and revise and all that, but to also have fun with whatever we were getting up to. James definitely teared up at one point but he remained in denial. Silly billy.

Now, after knowing James for a good four years, my knowledge of Hinduism was rather extensive, if I do say so myself. So according to James, Diwali lasts for five days with different festivities on each day. This year, it had started on Halloween so as soon as we returned from our epic prank, we quickly set up with the help of a spell or two and then let James do his thing. The same pattern repeated until now, which was the fourth day of the celebrations and James's favourite day, in his not-so-humble opinion.

Last night had been spent by setting off as many fireworks as we could possibly do, using the fact that it was Diwali to our advantage. They couldn't exactly tell us off for celebrating a festival, right? 

Today was the first day of the Hindu New Year so, of course, we had stayed up last night to welcome it properly. This meant we were all a little tired, especially since we woke up a little earlier too.

The night to come appeared to be rather busy so, while Peter went to get some breakfast for us all, we set up the new diyas, cleared the ones that had burned out last night and fixed the slightly smudged rangoli patterns. Once James had declared everything good enough for tonight - which, as you can imagine, took quite some time - we headed down for our first lesson of the day.

Fucking Herbology.

Sirius did, on many occasions throughout that lesson claim that since it was his birthday, he legally didn't have to be there because he was "Sirius McFucking Black and no man can tell me what to do from this day forward".

Unfortunately for him, Professor Sprout was no man and in fact a very angry woman who "will still give you detention Mr Black if you continue with that language in my classroom".

Suddenly, a petite, barn owl flew in the classroom with a letter in its beak. This could only mean one thing: an escape route. I rapidly tapped on the arms of the boys, not once taking my eyes off of the owl, "Teacher owl, teacher owl, teacher owl, teacher owl."

They all snapped their heads up to look at said owl, who was now perched on Sprout's desk. The teacher took the note - the owl took its leave - and she read it carefully, squinting. A look of both gratitude and distaste made its way onto her face. Definitely for one of us, then. The boys seemed to think the same as I was met with excitement and intrigued looks when I turned to them.

"White!" Sprout's voice boomed throughout the greenhouse, holding up the letter. Groans of disappointment rippled throughout the class and people started going back to their work. She handed me the letter and I opened it without haste.

Dear Miss White,

Please go to my office right away. This is a matter of urgency. You are not in trouble but this does, however, concern your family.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore.

P.S. I have been rather fond of chocolate frogs lately.

Now, unsurprisingly, I had received enough of these notes in the past to know that the whole chocolate frog thing was just a hint for the password. Not very subtle but oh well. The matter at hand was obviously what the fuck this was about. I wasn't in trouble for starters which was, quite frankly, weird. A million possibilities ran through my mind as to what this could be about. It involved my family and was serious. Did someone die? Merlin forbid it but at the current state of the wizarding world, I couldn't help but consider it. It was certainly a possibility, as much as I wished it wasn't.

"What does it say then?" James asked in an extremely disheartened tone.

"I need to go and see ye olde Dumbledore. Doesn't say why," I started packing up my stuff to leave.

"Someone's in trouble!" Sirius said in a sing-song voice that made me want to punch him in the face.

"No, it clearly says I'm not in trouble, you dickhead!" I yelled as I smugly strolled out of the greenhouse.

"Bitch!"

"Twat!"

"Prick!"

"Wanker!" I ran out as quickly as I could after that, leaving Sirius to get into trouble with Sprout. That was my birthday present for him. I practically sprinted to Dumbledore's office, every cell in my body bursting with curiosity. Once I arrived, I pretty much fell into his office from pure exhaustion. Exercise and I were not on good terms. I picked myself up from my mostly ungraceful entrance to see two people already sitting opposite the headteacher. 

"Ah, Arabella, glad to see you received my note. Take a seat," Dumbledore greeted me and gestured to the chair closest to me. I cautiously took it and only then did I get to finally see who I had the pleasure of having this meeting with. None other than the Head Girl and Boy. Or otherwise known as my cousin and her boyfriend. Melanie and Filip. The golden students of Hogwarts. Everybody idolised them and for good reason. Seemingly perfect, they were the Athena and Apollo of our school. Smart but not bookworms. Kind but not pushovers. Beautiful but not vain. So it was no surprise to anyone when the titles they held were bestowed upon them. I, for one, did not believe in soulmates but Melanie and Filip came pretty damn close. Melanie was the daughter of my mother's twin sister. Two years older than me although I think I had corrupted her more than she had me. The type of cousin that you only saw once in a blue moon but when you did, all hell broke loose and you had the time of your lives. I knew very little of Filip but his reputation of being an all-around nice guy preceded him for miles. Their presence was some form of comfort to me because I couldn't possibly be in trouble if they were here too.

"May I ask what this is about?" I looked around the room for it had fallen silent. Melanie uncharacteristically refused to look at anything other than her lap. Filip was gazing off into the distance as if he was a model. Dumbledore was just being Dumbledore so no changes there, not that I expected any.

"Melanie, would you like to explain?" the headmaster asked to which the girl in question frantically shook her head.

"I can't," her voice, no louder than a whisper, broke halfway through. My heart instantly dropped, this couldn't possibly be good. She was usually so strong, so independent. I didn't recall ever seeing her cry so this must be a big deal. Filip grasped her hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Filip?" Dumbledore tried a different strategy. 

Clearly struggling with his words, he ended up just murmuring, "Melanie's pregnant."

And so it seemed that even the finest china you had ever seen could be chipped. Misfortune would always be lurking somewhere in the shadows, ready to strike at any given moment. Nobody was ever safe from it, not even the few angels who walked among us. Out of all of my friends, Melanie would be one of the last I would suspect of being pregnant. This list of friends included my male friends so that was saying something. 

But at the same time, who was I to judge her? It wasn't as if I was a virgin either. That ship sailed a long time ago. She was allowed to do whatever (and whoever, if you know what I mean) she wanted. Providing she wanted this to happen. Not the baby but the cause of it. Some people can be absolute twats sometimes but if the father was indeed Filip, surely that wasn't the case.

Regardless of how it occurred, they now had to work out what they were going to do about it. Would they be expelled? Arrested? They were both 17 and therefore adults in the wizarding world. They would be fine, right?

"Ari?" Melanie spoke up, audibly calmer than before and much more like the Melanie I knew and loved, "Say something please."

Only then did I realise that my rather extensive thought track meant that I had not yet said anything. "Sorry, I just- what are you planning to do about it?" That was my top priority for I needed to know how to support her. I couldn't care less about her decision but I did care about her.

"Wait, you're not mad?" relief visibly flooded every cell in her body like a waterfall. I hated that she had been expecting anger and disgust when I would never be like that towards her, even if I wanted to.

"Darling, of course, I'm not mad! These things happen, OK? I just need to know what you want to do about it."

She bit her lip and exchanged a quick glance with Filip, who had been gradually relaxing since I had first spoken, "We're not sure just yet if I'm honest. I was wondering what you had to say on the matter?"

"I will support you no matter what," I answered truthfully, "You want to have the baby? You have the baby! I will be that aunt who corrupts it as much as possible and you know it. But if you're not ready then just abort it! No one will hate you if you do, it's just a fetus the size of a grain of rice for crying out loud! It's entirely up to you, my dear."

"Well said," Melanie smiled slightly. Dumbledore cleared his throat and we all turned to him.

"Just as Arabella kindly put it, you do indeed have the choice. The baby won't be due until August and, seeing as you will no longer be at Hogwarts by then and will both be 18, you hold the right to keep it."

A long, rather awkward silence ensued, which was understandable given the situation. Melanie's glazed eyes told me she was deep in thought but a small, impatient part of me just wanted to break her from her trance, shake her up and down and yell at her to make a decision. I told myself to shut the fuck up because this was a huge decision to make and could potentially affect the rest of her life. Regardless of her choice, this would become something that would certainly loom over everything for a while at least. Besides, it was easy for me to tell her to hurry up because I wasn't going to be the one to raise the damn child. Or children. Twins were common in our family. Luke and Rhea for example. And my mum and Melanie's mum too.

"I'm going to keep it," Melanie whispered. I almost missed it due to the voices inside my head. I still didn't believe it.

"Really?" I asked, sounding a lot more incredulous than I intended.

"Yeah, I, sorry, we," she squeezed Filip's hand back, "We always knew we would have kids after Hogwarts, so why not get a head start?"

I had to admit she made a valid point and, if the look on Filip's face was anything to go by, this baby would grow up having two loving parents. Though, I couldn't ignore my instincts screaming at me to stop her, to tell her that this was a bad idea, to tell her that this wasn't going to go according to plan because nothing ever does. Even while I watched Dumbledore promise to hide the pregnancy. Even while I watched their faces of glee at the realisation that they were going to be parents. Even while I said my goodbyes and left the office. Even then I stayed silent. Because who was I to try and control my cousin's body?

*********

The second lessons ended for the day, Minnie collected James so she could take him to the Mandir in Edinburgh, as worship and seeing family was an important part of Diwali. He wouldn't be back until after dinner so we spent the time 'studying' to get Remus off of our backs and then set up for the party later on. Without Sirius looking of course. Although I must say getting him to bugger off for a while was easier than expected and may or may not have involved an extreme game of fetch. Let's just say that Snivellus wasn't all that pleased to find me lobbing his beloved textbook down the stairs.

All of the stairs.

Personally, I found it hilarious but Lily had a slight difference of opinion. Even when I tried to defend myself and call it my other birthday present to Sirius.

Regardless, it got one of my crackhead friends out of my hair for a while. We managed to hang banners from the ceiling, enchant a disco ball to whizz around like a not-as-dangerous bludger and cast a spell that meant glitter would just hover in the air to give the common room a glitzy feel to it.

Perfect for Sirius's sixteenth birthday. Although that concept alone was a little hard to comprehend. The fact that he had the mental age of a six-year-old was seriously convincing me that his birth certificate was wrong. That would explain a lot except he was still a fucking tall bastard. Although seen as I was only five feet one, everyone was tall compared to me. Apart from Alice, the fucking midget. She may or may not be only half an inch shorter than me but that half an inch made all the difference ('That half an inch made all the difference': title of Marlene's sex tape). 

Moving on, the party itself started at around 9 so as to give everyone enough time to get ready. In that time, I managed to throw on a silver glittery jumpsuit with flowy legs and matching heels, do my hair and makeup and put on my accessories; all of which take longer than you first expect. An animated look was painted onto Sirius's face when we gave him permission to open his eyes and see what we had definitely put effort into creating for him. 'Permission' seems like a strong word until you learn that we had to hex his eyes shut to prevent premature peeking. We know him too well.

We had David Bowie records blasting from my poor record player all night, and while I tried to sneak in a couple of Queen ones every now and then, James just reprimanded me, saying that "it should be up to the birthday boy" and that "I would get my turn in a few weeks anyway". To which I did what I do best and sulked next to the drinks table by myself, thinking of ways to piss James off that I would almost certainly forget by the time I was sober. I was coming up with ways to fuck up the wanker's beloved broom while having a few gulps of what I believed was firewhiskey, when Remus approached me, tension oozing from every part of him. He grabbed the rest of my drink, downed it all in one go without a trace of a grimace, before turning to me and huffing deeply.

"What's up, buttercup?" Okay, so I might not have been entirely sober enough to deal with can-and-will-kill-you-if-you-do-so-much-as-breathe Remus but I'd be damned if I didn't give it a good go. Besides he wouldn't dare murder me. He loves me but he's bloody terrified at the same time, the same goes for pretty much everyone now I think about it. 

Okay back to the issue at hand. Remus just gave me one of those looks that pierces your soul so sharply that you have to look down to make sure you haven't just been stabbed. Once I got past that armour of I-know-your-entire-life-story-and-I-would-sell-it-for-half-a-pizza-and-a-milkshake, I found a look of such hopelessness that I found myself unwillingly sobering up slightly, "Darling, what's going on?" I leaned in, knowing full well that he was going to be as quiet as possible with his reply. God, I know too much about these crackheads.

Of course, I was right with this assumption as he mumbled, "I got into a fight with Idania," he looked at me with a sorrow that I wasn't used to seeing in any of my friends, let alone at a party.

But I could only see red because I don't care you the fuck you are if you hurt any of my friends then you better fucking pray for your life. Jaw visibly clenched, voice dangerously quiet, "Where is she?" My temper was inches away from bubbling over when he didn't respond, "Where the fuck is she, Remus?"

I made to move, tunnel vision without even knowing what happened, but he grabbed my arm first, an iron grip from years of stopping me from launching punches at certain people, "No, Ruth. I wouldn't let you even if I knew where she was." He stared at me in a way that was scarily reminiscent of McGonagall and I knew I couldn't just leave him like that.

"What happened then?" I was trying my hardest to calm down and decided that my best shot was to drink some more.

"She saw some of my scars and asked where I got them from and I wouldn't say and it just escalated from there. What was I supposed to say? There's nothing you can say in that situation that won't worry her," he sighed and gulped another drink down.

I furrowed my brows, concentrating on thinking of a solution, though nothing came to mind. He had a point after all, what do you say when that happens? It all comes down to violence in one way or another and you can never not stress someone out with a cause of pain. "She'll come round if she's worth keeping."

A tiny flicker of hope danced in his eyes, minuscule but still there, "I hope to Merlin you're right."

"Honey, same," I pushed a cup of something into his hand and grabbed one for myself," But for now, we can get pissed off our asses and worry about this tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Oh fuck yes."