#milk with honey to keep the misery away

[blondeaxolotl]

Felt like drawing Lizzy, and Grell since you can't have the lady without her trusty butler

[katsukikitten]

look y'all don't ask how I got here but here we are

Sako Kota

He's easy to spot, tall, middle part, blonde hair that fades into black at the tips, late twenties, handsome.

He comes in every week, usually mid week, when it's dead and you're bored to tears. So it's not as if your eyes could wander anywhere else and he doesn't make it easy.

Sitting down in the same booth everytime, closer to the back, both the entrance and the exit behind the counter are best seen from his spot. Plus the advantage of watching through the giant window while being concealed by the tint that keeps the sun from baking you alive.

He dresses nicely, adorned in turtlenecks no matter the season, even now as the cicadas cry out of misery, begging the sun for relief, his throat is shielded by a thin fold of fabric. The sleeves are three quartered as he takes off his light long jacket and tucks it into his booth. Glancing at an expensive watch to check the time. It's the only glamorous thing about him, the rest of his clothes are always form fitting and simple, paired with well worn but unscuffed boots. As if he buffs and polishes them.

He's ordered his usual and the sweet of the week to go, even though he always sits inside. You're sure it's so no one will bother him when it's time to collect his dishes.

Today it is an early gray tea cake and his normal latte. One you could make with your eyes closed, regular milk steamed, regular milk foam, only one shot of espresso so it isn't too bitter and when you have it, three pumps of gomme syrup. You've noticed he prefers it over simple syrup. You wonder if the gum arabic really does make the drink silky smooth like your boss says. You've made his drink for yourself once or twice after he's left but you always felt weird about trying it as you stared into the bubbles of the foam. Felt almost creepy as you dump out your one daily free beverage over some guy you barely knew.

Maybe it was because you knew he never noticed you the way you did him.

Anytime you'd call his name he seemed to look right through you or worse, glare down his nose at you, eyes focused on the white container in your hands that held his sweet caffeinated nectar and the white box with his treat neatly wrapped up.

“Sako?” You call out almost as a question as if he weren't the only other living soul in the cafe aside from you while your lazy coworker hid away out back. His cake neatly packaged on colored paper to make the gray of the cake and white of the soft creme pop under the cellophane window. His drink in your palm as you reach out to hand it to him over the counter.

Rough calloused fingers brush over yours and stupidly you feel your heart race. Honey brown eyes like molten amber glaring down at you from the contact. Sticky is his gaze as he keeps eye contact and this time he isn't looking through you.

He's looking right at you.

His face neither softens nor sours, stays in that bitchy expression of disgust that you think he wears as a mask to shield away some other part of him. Still it stings, feels embarrassing to be under the weight of his scrutiny.

Mortifying as you pull your hand away and realize what you've done on his cup where you normally write a name.

You'd been day dreaming, thinking of the kanji in his name, “help” or “assistant” and “fox.” The idea of it made you giggle as you must have absent-mindedly drew a little chibi fox with a clipboard and glasses before the espresso machine whined for attention leaving you to forget all about your little drawing.

Cold sweat drips down your nape as you wait for your coworker to come back from his ages long smoke. Jittery as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other before he finally returned, shoving your way towards the back with nothing more than a hissed “restroom” in hopes you're out of sight before Sako can see your drawn stupidity that he may take for an insult. Rushing into the sweltering heat of the ally, groaning as you fist your apron and try to fight back tears you hadn't realized were welling behind long lashes.

Instead you miss his scoff as that heavy gaze cuts over the lines of black sharpie. The ink stark against the white paper cup that he turns slightly so he can see it better. The chibi fox in black and white, clipboard perched between its paws and round glasses sitting atop his smiling snout.

You'd even given the little fox a turtle neck, it makes his lips twitch upward.

It's a shame really, a damn shame that you missed how soft his face gets when he smiles.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

"I don't want to sleep without you".

An excerpt from a WIP.

What you need to know: The team (Castle, Beckett, Lanie, Esposito, Ryan and Jenny) head to Castle's place in the Hamptons for a weekend getaway. Early Caskett, their relationship is still a secret and so they are trying to "play it cool" but still taking every available opportunity to sneak 'moments'. Also, Beckett is sharing a room with Lanie for the weekend.

In the scene immediately before this one, Castle and Beckett managed to sneak to the beach for a midnight stroll. They come to the obvious conclusion that Beckett should sneak into Castle's room for the night but upon returning to the house, Ryan and Jenny are in the kitchen and so their plans are foiled. So Castle is a little pouty...

Enjoy! :)

The Ryan's and their midnight honey milk - while objectively adorable - were the bane of his existence right now.

He had been so close - so freaking close - to getting exactly what he had been craving all day long. But, alas, poor planning and the Ryan's with their bad timing and stupid honey milk had burst that little bubble.

He returned to his room; wired and worked up, definitely in no state to even be considering going to sleep. So, he did the only thing he could think of: pulled out his laptop and let his imagination run wild on the blank page, saving his beloved Nikki and Rook from the misery of the abrupt ending he had suffered tonight.

Writing did absolutely nothing to ease the tension that coiled in his core.

He had known this weekend would be tough; to have to keep away from Kate, to have to sleep alone, to have to act like they were nothing more than friends when he was being haunted by the memories of the last time he was here, just two short weeks ago: the two of them all alone, free to kiss and to touch and to explore the boundaries of their new relationship with no fear of the outside world's judgements.

He loved his friends, loved the time they all spent together, but boy was he regretting inviting them all this weekend.

Three soft taps on his bedroom door pulled him from his thoughts and immediately simmered the pent up frustration he felt. He placed his laptop on the end of the bed, pulled himself from the cosy cocoon of pillows he had nestled into and made his way across the room.

When he pulled open the door he wasn't surprised to see her - who else would it be at almost 2 o'clock in the morning? - but given their near-miss in the kitchen not that long ago, he definitely hadn't been expecting her.

He poked his head out of the room, looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one was around. He grabbed her gently by the elbow and pulled her into his room, closing the door behind them.

"They've gone back to bed," she assured him with a smile.

He didn't say anything, barely even acknowledged she had said anything before he cupped her face, pulled her close and pressed his mouth to hers.

His hands made their way to her waist. Unable to resist the feel of her, he toyed with the worn cotton of her sleep shirt, slipping his fingers under the hem. Her skin was like silk, soft under the warmth of his touch. Needing more, he pressed his palm flat against her torso and allowed them to glide up her ribs.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked, mouth still pressed to hers, breaking away from their kiss only because his lungs begged for more air.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, wrists crossed behind his head.

"I thought you might be lonely," she said with a casual shrug. She looked to the side, her eyes landing on his bed. "It's an awfully big bed for one person."

She looked back at him, her eyes locked on to the deep ocean blue of his.

"You are more than welcome to keep me company." He pressed his lips to hers; a soft, sweet kiss. "But what about Lanie?"

She pulled back and narrowed her eyes. "What about Lanie?"

"What happens in the morning when she wakes up and you're not there?"

Kate smiled her reassurances. "She's a smart girl, I'm sure she can put two and two together."

"Yeah..." Castle's words faded as his brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean, isn't that kind of exactly that you were worried about?"

"I'll deal with that tomorrow. I just- I don't want to sleep without you," she admitted in a soft whisper.

He smiled, pulled his hands from under her shirt and shook his head slightly. "Me neither."

[m1ckeyb3rry]

KIRA’ S HERE 💪 W/ AN UPDATE

okay sooooooo i went to the gym today 🥳 so i normally do 3 incline for the treadmill and thought that i could handle going from 3 to 10 😭 stupid ik, 🫠 my legs are so sore and I’m slowly gonna build up now 😭 normally i would but i was feeling like extra awesome so….

I did weights too! Which I normally don’t do pretty proud of myself :D I did sets of squats + Russian twists w/ weights- then I did that 3 sets of one glute machine :) gotta grow that bootie 💪

And I did stretch 😌

And also pretty proud that i ordered this green drink w/ like spinach n shit ?? I hate greens so much omg- I honestly have the pallet of a toddler 🫠😭 It was pretty good though??? and I had wings for lunch ! I wanted a sandwich but im tryna stay away from carbs rn😭

Well this was my official first day of the rest of my life and came to tell you 😽

hope you don’t mind me slipping in ur asks every now and then :3

HIII OMG YAYY UPDATE TIME!!

HAHA yess it’s def tough working up to it…when i first started i would only spend a couple of minutes at the 12 incline and the rest at 6-8ish?? doing it kind of in intervals where you disperse shorter bursts of the higher incline with a majority at a more comfortable incline might help you progress to being consistent at the higher incline quicker because it lets your body adjust without pushing it too hard 🤔 tbh there’s still days when i only go up to the 15 incline for like the first 5-10 mins and then spend the rest of my cardio time in like the 8-10 range so i can answer emails or asks on my phone because lowkey the treadmill is kinda boring sometimes 😭

AHHH I’M SO PROUD LOOK AT YOU GOOO you will be a weightlifting pro in no time 🤩 LMAOAOA omg that’s so real though glutes forever (side note but for the longest time my mother would get rdls [as in romanian deadlifts] confused with bbls so she’d be like “did you do your bbls at the gym today ☺️” and i’d just be like “well…close enough…they ARE building that area so 🤷🏻‍♀️” HAHA it’s actually insane though what working out your glutes will do for you!! it’ll help w incline walking too everything is so interconnected it’s crazy)

HOORAY stretching ftw hehe it’s my favorite part of my workout…idk if you’ve heard that one tik tok sound where that guy goes “it’s like a reward” but that’s literally my mindset 😩 like okay if i can do one more set of squats then i can go do yoga 🤩

THAT SOUNDS YUMMYYY and dw you’re not alone i am such a picky eater too but in weird ways??? like i can’t stand blueberries on their own but i can’t eat yogurt if i don’t put blueberries in it 😓 (another side note but a more relevant one…greek yogurt is like the number one post gym snack because it has sm protein without being super heavy!! i always put chia seeds flax seeds fruit and occasionally honey in mine but you can kinda experiment w what you like…provided you’re not allergic to milk or smth ofc) honestly i think a lot of it also comes down to preparation so even if you don’t like a food in one way (like spinach in a salad for example) you might like it prepared in a diff way (ex a smoothie) ☝🏻 sometimes we must be creative in order to get our nutrients in LOLOL worst comes to worst there’s no shame in busting out the blender 🤩

I HOPE IT DIDN’T FEEL TOO HORRIBLE OR RESTRICTIVE OR ANYTHING!! just remember everything in moderation even things that people are like “no if you eat this you will never lose weight blah blah” because that’s not actually true HAHA you can eat anything and lose weight — no food is inherently bad it’s just how you view it!! ofc some have more nutrients and keep you full for longer so that’s always good to consider but i remember when i was really trying to lose weight i would leave a little buffer so i could eat takis every night 😭 and i still lost weight even w that SO it is possible and def losing weight shouldn’t be a cause of misery or make you feel like you can’t eat anything at all!! there’s 100% a balance between choosing a healthier option and sometimes just realizing it’s okay to indulge every now and again too 🤫 especially because eating in moderation instead of cutting out completely is the best way to avoid binge eating!!

OMG PLEASE ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO DROP ASKS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING whether it’s abt the gym or fandoms (as i’m sure you can tell i’m in quite a few myself 😰) or real life or wtvr 💖 i loveee talking to people HAHA truly the best part of tumblr is how interactive it is!!

[sehtoast]

Give Me Your Rage - All of You is Left to Love Ch8 (Depowered Homelander x OC)

Chapter Directory

1.5k words

Summary: Mirrorlander works Homelander into a rage, ensuing aggression and panic attack from which Ben helps bring him down. Barely any plot, just good ol hurt/comfort

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

He tried to keep himself occupied. Tried his best to ignore the whispering in his mind.

TV would drown it out, he thought. Maybe a movie– or the news. Seeing the chaos in the world to make his own feel less suffocating.

All it did was fuel the fire.

VNN showed a livestream of Ben addressing a crowd in regards to another supe filling a seat in The Seven. His little spider stood there, spouting off line after line of corporate sludge, winning the hearts of millions with his emotive mask lenses and honeyed words.

Used to be you up there. You used to matter like that.

His brows furrowed. A shake of the head, praying to will it away.

Now look at you. Just some useless fuckin’ slob spending every day on the couch.

Hands covering his ears in vain.

Wasting away… Sucking down all that fucking milk. Wonder how that bug of yours even looks at you, hm?

No…

The tirade was never ending, dragging on until the sound of a window shutting pulled him just far enough out of his own mind.

Benjamin was home.

The man of the hour! The voice lilted. You really let him take everything from you, huh…

“I’m back!” Ben called from the bedroom. His greeting was followed by the sound of the sink.

Benjamin’s routine upon arriving home... Announce himself. Run his head under the bathroom faucet to fix his mask-flattened hair. Phone on the charger. Supersuit stripped away. Regular clothes on.

Just enough time for the voice in John’s mind to run absolutely rampant.

He stole your life.

Stole the world’s love.

Made you into his fucking house pet!

John, toeing the line of falling into a frenzy, rushed into the kitchen to avoid Ben as his little spider started to make his way from the bedroom.

Took everything from you.

“Hey, hun?”

His voice grew closer.

Used you up.

“No…” John hissed. “No, no, no…”

A shuffling of footsteps.

Now you’re nothing… and he has it all.

“John?”

Make him pay. Do it!

His body moved before he could stop it. As if he’d gone numb to everything but the pain and rage building within.

His fist connected with Ben’s jaw, knocking his little spider’s head to the side. His hand ached from the impact, but he was already mid swing with the other before he could realize it.

Ben caught his fist with ease. He said nothing, just… pulled Homelander into an embrace. Tight, but not crushing.

John fought, at first. Tried his hardest to rip out of Ben's hold, to continue his assault, but those arms around his upper body held him firm until the grunts and growls he didn’t even know he was making turned to tears.

“Fuck!” He roared, giving one last struggle against Ben’s hold. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck…”

“It’s okay.” Ben cooed. “Give me your rage…”

He choked on a particularly harsh sob, reaching up to clench his head and rip at the shortness of his hair in helpless agony.

Ben unfurled Homelander’s grip with ease.

“Give me what you can’t hold anymore.”

His arms wrapped around Benjamin with all the strength he could muster, gripping and squeezing as though letting go would be the end of him.

The end of them.

What has he done?

Words spilled from his lips, apologies falling over one another as he sank to his knees. Benjamin followed him down, positioning to hold him comfortably. A leg over his, arms wrapped around his shoulders, chin resting atop of his head.

Somehow, the tenderness of his lover’s touch made it all hurt even more. His sobs became more guttural, rocking him to his core. A tsunami of pain, of shame and misery, regret…

Here he was, attacking the last person in the world that gave a shit about him. Driving away the only person in the world to ever show him real love. His Benjamin.

He was trying to hurt his Benjamin.

His chest heaved erratically with breaths that wouldn’t come.

Ben began to rock him, a hand trailing to rest just above his heart.

Each exhale was interrupted by a reflexive breath in, the two stifling each other until John felt dizzy. His panic escalated quickly with each failed gasp.

"I- I c-can't b-brea-athe!”

Ben used his grip to spin Homelander, turning his love to rest against him, back to chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen John have a panic attack, but this was certainly one of the worst to date.

"Feel me, baby. Feel my chest." Ben spoke firm and calm, his hands at John's shoulders to steady him against the lurches of his cries. “I need you to breathe like me…”

Homelander gripped Ben's thighs, chest heaving with breaths that only further robbed his lungs of air. Every breath stifled by a spasming diaphragm.

"Eyes closed. Focus... Breathe like me." Ben took a deep inhale, letting his chest push against John's arched back. Reaching up to run his fingers through Homelander’s hair. “You’ve got this. It’s gonna be okay.”

Homelander clenched his eyes shut and forced in a ragged breath, exhaling just as shakily. Head thrown back against Ben's shoulder, body rigid as he fought desperately to control himself.

"That's it," Ben whispered, hands still holding him steady. "In…" he took another exaggerated breath. "Then out…"

They repeated this way for some time until the iron grip at Ben’s thighs loosened and the sound of desperate gasps faded into unsteady breaths mimicking his own.

A shaky hand rose from his leg, and Ben grasped it. A kiss pressed to Homelander’s hand.

"It's okay…"

"It's not…" Homelander countered weakly. "I hit you."

"You did." Tone soft, forgiving. A hint of a chuckle to soften any other edges. Ben leaned to rest his chin on John's shoulder. It didn't hurt– but telling Homelander that would only reopen another wound. "Are you okay?"

Homelander scoffed in disbelief, another round of tears stinging at his eyes. The hand still at his little spider's thigh gripped again.

"I hurt you, and you're asking me if I'm okay." A sniffle, then a beat of silence.

"I hit you…"

Wouldn't be the first time, is what Ben wanted to add. He recalled an instance of being tackled out of the sky and thrown onto a roof, but that was… another lifetime, now.

John clutched Ben's hand firm to his chest. The rise and fall of it still unsteady, but far more calm than earlier.

"I forgive you," Benjamin whispered into his ear. The next part, barely even a breath from his lips- but something that needed to be acknowledged. Something Ben knew without having to be told. Because, why else?

"He's been loud lately, hasn't he?"

Ben hadn't been home much in the past few weeks. Too many events, too many instances of violent crime stopped dead in its tracks by the web-head, damage control and paperwork.

Too little time with John.

Who else would keep him company?

Homelander sucked in a breath and held it, nodding furiously as he tried to keep himself together.

"I'm sorry, baby…" Ben cooed, his fingers traveling to trail through John's hair.

They stayed like that, seated on the floor of the kitchen, holding on to each other for some time. Ben’s fingers massaged Homelander’s scalp, and sometimes deviated from their trail to thumb at his cheekbone instead.

John’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, fatigue setting in now that the rage had left him. Eventually, he felt those strong arms loop behind his back and under his knees, and he was lifted from the floor.

Ben laid Homelander on their unmade bed and tucked him in. Pressed a kiss to his brow.

John made a small sound of protest, thinking that his little spider was walking away to leave him, so Benjamin simply climbed overtop of him and made his way under the blankets. Within seconds, Homelander moved to rest his head upon Ben's chest, nuzzling into him with a defeated sigh.

“I'm calling off tomorrow." Ben declaread. "Maybe the next day, too…No, definitely the next day."

"I'd… really like that," Homelander replied, sleep lacing his voice.

Ben’s fingers danced through Homelander’s hair as he soothed him. He wasn’t one to hold back on vocalizing his emotions to John, but Ben waited until he was asleep to speak.

“You’re my world…” He whispered. “No matter what happens, no matter how crazy things may get… I’m gonna stick with you. Gonna watch you come out on the other side of this change victorious.”

His hand moved to Homelander’s cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in circles. Ben looked at him contemplatively and felt his heart swell.

“You’ve never stopped giving me those damn butterflies…”

[nnb17]

AMAZING TIPS FOR AMAVASYA

To rid any house of chaos, mental tension and misery – thoroughly clean each nook and corner of the house – throw away the waste and get rid of any useless items, in the house – light a with mustard oil lamp in the home temple and near Tulsi plant

For wealth benefits ,hoist a yellow ,triangular flag atop a Lord Vishnu temple – is such a way that it continuously flutters – you shall have amazing wealth benefits – but it should be kept in mind that the flag should be permanently placed – if need be ,it should be changed from time to time.

Never pluck, Tulsi leaves [Basil] or the leaves of the ‘Bail Tree’ [Wood- apple tree] on Amavasya – if they have to be offered on the deity, ensure that you pluck them a day before

Pouring a spoon of milk on the earth, will help you get rid of hurdles, stopping the progress and every day wok. Also if barley is washed in milk and flown down in running water, then fate will always favor you.

To subdue the ill-effects of Saturn [Shani Dev] – every Amavasya ,offer mustard oil ,black ‘urad dal’ [black pulses],an iron piece ,black cloth , and a blue flower to the deity and chant the Vedic mantra of Lord Saturn – 101 times – “OM NILANJANSAMABHAS RAVIPUTRA YAMAGRAJAM . CHAYAMARTANDSAMBHUT NAMAMI SANESHCHARAM” –

Every Amavasya, offer five different kinds of fruits to a cow – the atmosphere at home shall always remain auspicious and happy.

Feeding wheat flour balls, to the fishes on Amavasya, bestow upon a person, his ancestors blessings and the blessings of the gods – issues / obstructions pertaining to incoming wealth, are also nullified.

If there is a person who is chronically ill – wake up before sunrise, post your bath – pull a strand of thread from any clothing, worn by the patient – with some additional cotton , make a wick of this strand of thread and cotton and dip it in a lamp filled with mustard oil – light this lamp and place it in front of an idol of Lord Hanuman and chant the ‘Hanuman Chalisa’ –

Take a fresh lemon and cut it into four halves – throw each half in each direction – i.e four halves in four direction –issues pertaining to unemployment shall be finished – please ensure, that you stand on a crossroad with four directions and also it has to be done secretly.

On the Amavasya night , take 8 almonds and 8 ‘kaajal’ boxes, tie them in a black cloth – and keep them in a box filled with red vermillion powder – very soon ,you shall be rid of financial problems.Change it every amavasya.

Feed a Brahmin on Amavasya. This shall keep the ancestors happy – obstacles shall be removed and there shall be no dearth of prosperity – and the house-hold shall be immune to the ‘evil-eye’ and other forms of black magic.

For gaining the blessings of the ancestors and getting freedom from the malefic effects of ‘pitr-dosh’ – pouring water ,milk, gangajal ,black sesame seeds ,sugar, rice all mixed together , in the roots of a ‘Peepal tree’, and offer flowers and the sacred thread ,chanting ;”OM NAMO BHAGWATEY VASUDEVAYE NAMAH” and circumbulating the tree, seven times .

The ancestors should be offered water on ever Amavasya – the right way of offering water is – In a copper vessel, water, mixed with gangajal , raw milk ,sesame seeds , barley ,Tulsi leaves, a grass blade , honey and a white flower – should be offered – facing the south direction , calling out – TAPRAANTAYAMI , TAPRAANTAYAMI , TAPRAANTAYAMI – thrice – the water should be poured out along the side of the thumb in to a vessel below – this does provide contentment to the ancestors – Remember to pour the collected water into some plant – do not throw this water any where in the house or outside – it should only be poured in to the roots of a plant.

According to the ‘Shastras’, the ancestors visit their homes, every Amavasya – so every person should donate to charity – as much as he can afford. Keeping a meal under a ‘Babool Tree’ [Acacia Tree] in the name of the ancestors also pleases them.

Ancestors have a special liking for ‘Kheer’ – [sweet porridge of rice and milk] – every Amavasya, preparing kheer and offering it to a Brahmin with his meals begets one of a thousand virtues. In the evenings, keeping a small portion of the ‘kheer under the ‘Peepal tree’, in the evening, helps in removing instability, from one’s life.

To avoid sudden mishaps and tame the enemies, can be fulfilled, by feeding a black dog, a chapatti smeared with mustard oil.

Install a Horse Shoe [of a black horse] on the top of the main door, on Amavasya; the open end should face the ceiling or above/up, if it is in your house; if, it is at the workplace, then the open end should face the floor or below/down – this saves one from the ‘evil-eye’ and stability of finances and happiness is ensured.

On Amavasya never start a, fresh business, journey, transaction, or any auspicious work.

Sai Numerology,

Neetu N Bhansali

[alokastrology1]

What is the importance of Satyanarayan Puja?

Satyanarayan Puja can pull a person out of sorrows and suffering during the present Kalyug, also known as the ‘Age of Downfall’ or the final stage of the Yug cycle in Hinduism. It offers several advantages that improve a person’s physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

Know what is the story of Satyanarayan Puja? Get an online astrology consultation by the world-renowned Astrologer Mr. Alok Khandelwal.

Satya Narayan is a manifestation of Narayan, also known as Lord Vishnu, and is regarded as the embodiment of truth. All Hindus who wish to fulfill their goals worship Him and worshipping Him offers relief from their afflictions. To be effective, the Puja must be conducted in a specified manner and according to religious traditions.

Satyanarayan Puja's Advantages

It takes away sadness and misery.

It bestows wealth, prosperity, and abundance.

Blessed with offspring and a healthy child.

A marriage that is harmonious.

Victory in all endeavors and against all adversaries.

The Science of Satyanarayan Puja.

Satya implies truthfulness; Similarly, the Mool Mantra, or fundamental prayer, in Sikhism consists of five words: Ekonkar, Satnam, Kartapurkh, Nirbhau, Nirvair, which reflect the Sikh belief in one God, Truth, God’s Creative Power, Fearlessness, and Compassion.

Satya is the core notion of all dharmas. It means that anything we think, do, and say is the same and that all of our sensory organs are in sync. To practice Satya, we do Satyanarayan Katha, which implies that we don’t tell a falsehood on that day. It is often conducted on the day of the full moon, which influences water retention in our bodies. The full moon also has an impact on our thoughts and emotions, frequently shrouding them in chaos and ups and downs. This heightens our negative element, which we aim to counteract by fasting on this day and seeking heavenly benefits.

It is a day when we cleanse ourselves by not uttering falsehoods, refrain from nonverbal communication, and refrain from complaining or keeping grudges. We must be nice and kind to one another, distributing food and presents to everybody. We draw positive energy by cleansing with Holy Water and adopting Panchamrit, which regulates the pitta dosha in our bodies. It is a one-day purification of the body, a transition from rajasic and tamasic existence to satvic existence, to a parasympathetic condition.

When should Satyanarayan Puja be performed?

This Puja can be conducted on the Sankranti of each month, or whenever the sun’s passage occurs. Each month’s Full Moon is determined by the lunar position.

This Puja requires the following materials:

Satya Narayan idol or picture

Incense or a lamp

Rangoli

Mandap, banana tree, and mango leaves

Vermillion

Spreadable raw rice

Yellow fabric with rickrack

Kumkum, sandalwood paste

Flowers and fruits

Prasad is made with wheat powder and other ingredients. If Havan is conducted, materials for PanchamritWooden pieces

How to Carry Out This Puja

Take a bath beforehand. Keep in mind that you must fast till the Puja is over. Because this Puja must be conducted with a pure mind and body, you must swear, ‘O Lord Satya Narayan, I am conducting this ritual with complete dedication and attention to accept your blessings.’

Clean the puja area and add a colorful rangoli to it. Make a mandap by tying banana plants in the corners and laying down the yellow fabric as an aasan. The rick should then be poured onto the cloth, and a Kalash filled with water should be placed on top of the rice. Place another cloth on top of the Satya Narayana deity or picture. You may make the Mandal out of whatever material you can afford. Panchamrit’s offer (the five nectars – milk, curd, ghee, sugar, and honey).

Read Also:- How does Rahu help you defeat your enemies?

The following is the procedure for doing the Puja:

Sankalpam: Inform the Lord that you are conducting this Puja to fulfill your wishes or aspirations, and ask for His blessing to complete it successfully.

Begin by worshipping Lord Ganesha and asking Him to provide you the fortitude to complete this Puja without difficulty. Click here to discover more about Ganapati Yagna. Prarthana: Chant the Gayatri Mantra and ask the Lord for permission to do this mighty Puja. Pranayama and Sankalpam: These are the practices of cleansing your breath and making a pledge to appease Lord Ganesha. Kalash Puja entails presenting an invitation to worship Lord Satya Narayan, who is represented by the Kalash. Ganapati Pancha Loka Puja: Pray to Ganesha, Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, and Parvati, the Lords of the Five Worlds. Navagraha Puja: Invite all the planets by politely invoking their names and offering akshadai (made of rice and Haldi) and flowers. Invoke the planets for their blessings in order to carry out this Puja. Invite and adore Lord Indra and the other Lords of the eight directions at the Indradi Ashtadikpala Puja. Satyanarayana Puja: Praise the Lord by placing flowers on His feet. Establish Pran Pratishtha, which is the practice of infusing a heavenly object with ‘prana,’ or life power, by singing His 108 names and placing flowers at His feet. Then, holding flowers in your hands, ask the Lord to grant your requests and bless your family with wealth and abundance.

(Optional) Yagna:

You can prepare the Havan Kund once you have prayed to Lord Satya Narayan. While presenting wooden pieces and putting ghee to the fire, chant the Lord’s name. 

Lord Satya Narayan can be worshipped by people of any caste or creed, and he can be attended by individuals of any age or gender. The Puja can be done in the evening or throughout the day. It is critical to remember that after worshipping the Lord, the offering of ghee, sugar, wheat, and banana must be distributed. On this day, one must also listen to Satya Narayan’s narrative and conclude the Puja by performing Lord Satya Narayan Arti, after which one can feast and rejoice.

Read Also:- Is Mars responsible for my anger? Part 2

[tsotc]

charon is a character who can never rest whose work is never done and whose will is controlled by another. it's a product of pre amaurotine times who should be dead and isn't because death is lonely and the aetherial sea will always need a Shepard and now more than ever it is alone and should be dead but never will be. it is seen as kind and understanding and selfless and it loves you but it cannot do anything more than watch because it is so tied to the sea and its obligations.

desire is hungry and she is hunger and she is starved. a void sent fostering what little fucked up aether she could find of charon to make a feast out of and she is hungry. and she is hungry so hungry but she is keeping the corpse warm. She is what keeps the body alive and functional. she is what keeps the idea of phitsamai wongsuwan alive. and she will eat hyr in hyr entirety but she will not let hyr die until she has ripened and aged like a fine wine, like a steak. and she wants for hyr freedom. desire has watched phitsamai grovel and throw hyrself away at the hands of others to be neat and convinent and she tells herself that her want for phit to experience rage and grief and self actualisation is for the sake of the meal but it's not and she knows its not.

forgiven obedience is that need to please and to be small and to be kind by bending yourself over backwards until you snap and you break because then you will be loved. obedience is literally only here until desire decides his aether has sated her and because she likes watching him interact with phitsamai. he got absorbed on the first after trying to understand and subsequently consume phitsamai's fucking abysmal aether and now that lizard looks like garfield lamp to yshtola. obedience is the comfort in misery and he will not last.

and phit is just a body with kindness and love. sy has ALWAYS loved you but has been dead since the day sy was born, for every day sy has been alive and until the day sy is eaten and erased from existence. Sy bathes in milk and lavender and honey to sate the sins of the body. sy obsesses over the skin and the scales and the hair so nobody picks up on it because sy is fundementally wrong and you shouldn't talk with the dead even when they offer to craddle your face with their soft and tender embrace, even when they kiss away your tears and throw themselves upon the hearth to fix you. Sy is deeply, deeply neurotic about all of this and does not have a reason to believe that sy is anything other than a puppet for things greater than hyrself but despite that, despite the horrors, hyr soul needs to be kind or else it ceases to be. sy's so determined to be the will of another, the scalpel's blade weilded by the surgeon desire to cut the infection and save you, that sy has all but forgotten how to be human. but it doesnt matter because, and i will say it again, sy adores you.

phit's lore is so self indulgent and stupid but it makes sense TO ME!!!! three states of self and the body. the platonic ideal of a person through charon. the hunger and bloodlust through desire. the grief and the longing through forgiven obedience. the bpd and also the memory issues through the body of phitsamai. im biting hyr horns and throwinf hyr against a wall

[atlafan]

a/n: hola!! So, I’m posting the first 7K here since this is just one long one-shot. I hope y’all will join patreon to continue reading the rest of the story. I worked really hard on this one, and for whatever reason I feel like this is some of my best writing. Enjoy!

Words in total: 38K

Warnings: 

TW - mentions of abortion/planned parenthood

Some angst, mostly just two people being idiots

Smut - slight daddy!kink, slight soft dom

Being the new kid in school is never easy. When you’re in elementary school, it’s exciting. Everyone wants to know you and be your friend, but in middle school…the kids judged you on day one. Orla Murphy and her family moved to Boston halfway through fifth grade. It would have been one thing if it was summer, she’d be able to slide in undetected. She could just pretend she was from a different elementary school and be done with it. But no, her father got offered a new job in the big city that he couldn’t turn down. Orla’s an only child, so it wasn’t even like she could mope and complain with a sibling. It was just her and her parents, and even though her mother was a bit more sympathetic to her daughter’s misery, it didn’t make Orla feel better. 

So, here she is, on her first day of school on February 1st standing in front of a classroom of kids she doesn’t know, being forced to introduce herself and where she’s from.

“Go on, Orla, tell us a little about yourself.” The teacher says with a warm smile.

“Um…I’m Orla Murphy, I just moved here from Vermont. I’m from a small town where the whole school is the size of this classroom.” She looks down at her snow boots before looking up at the teacher.

“Wow, this’ll be quite the adjustment. What do you like to do for fun?”

“I draw and listen to music. I play Barbies, um…that’s all I can think of right now.”

“That’s fine, thank you, Orla. You can have a seat now.”

Orla goes back to where she was sitting before she got called up to introduce herself to her home room. She slumps down into her seat and listens to the morning announcements. The bell rings and it’s off to math. The class goes across the hall to the other teacher.

By the time lunch rolls around, Orla isn’t feeling much better about her new school. She had brought lunch, and wasn’t sure who to sit with. Her class has two assigned tables, but she doesn’t want to take anyone’s usual seat. She contemplates going to eat in the bathroom until someone taps her on the shoulder.

“You can sit with me and my friends, if you want.”

She turns around to look at a boy with a mess of chocolate brown curls on his head, a pair of round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and braces gracing his smile.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Orla blushes and follows him to one of the tables.

“I’m one of the few people that brings lunch too, everyone should be over soon. I’m Harry by the way.”

“Hi.” She says shyly.

“What kind of a name is Orla?” He asks, biting into his apple after they sit down.

“It’s Irish…”

“Cool! Does it mean anything.”

“Golden princess, or something like that, I don’t really know. My dad’s Irish and I guess his grandmother’s name was Orla so they named me after her.”

“That’s really cool. My mom just liked the name Harry, and now that’s my name.” He shrugs. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No.” She says, and pulls her sandwich out of her lunchbox. “Do you?”

“Mhm, I’ve got three older brothers, I’m the youngest. My oldest brother is a senior in high school, isn’t that cool? He’s going to college next year.”

“Does he drive you places?”

“Yeah! And sometimes he lets me sit in the front seat without my mom knowing. He’s the best.”

Orla felt like she was finally starting to open up, but Harry’s friends joined their table and took over the conversation. They acknowledged her, but didn’t make any effort to pull her back into the conversation. Harry noticed this and didn’t like it. She excuses herself a few minutes before the bell rings to go use the bathroom. There’s a study block after lunch where all of the kids in class could get a jump on homework, or read.

“Okay, everyone!” Mrs. Sampson, the teacher, cheers. “We’ve got a very special treat today. It’s Harry’s birthday, and his mom sent him in with cupcakes for the whole class!” Harry stands up and smiles as Mrs. Sampson places a birthday crown on his head. “Harry, would you like to pick someone to help you pass out the cupcakes?”

“Sure.” He nods and looks around the room. Many kids raise their hands with excitement. He spots Orla looking out the window with her chin resting on her fist. “I pick…Orla!”

Her attention snaps over to Harry while everyone looks at her. She stands up and walks over to him and takes a tray of cupcakes to help pass them out. Once everyone has their cupcakes, and a carton of milk supplied by Mrs. Sampson, the kids are allowed to sit with their friends and chat. Soon, some of the girls start talking with Orla, and it helps her feel more welcome.

By the end of the day, all of the kids are dismissed to go to their lockers and grab their backpacks before getting into their bus lines or go wait for their parents to pick them up. Orla sees Harry at his locker and she works up the courage to go talk to him.

“Hey, um, why’d you pick me earlier?” She asks him.

“Huh? Oh…I don’t know, I didn’t like that my friends were ignoring you at lunch. So, I just thought if you passed out the cupcakes with me more people would talk to you.” He rubs the back of his neck and grabs a card out of his locker. “Listen, I’m having a birthday party this weekend at Roller World, you should come.” He hands her the invitation. “The whole class is coming, it’ll be fun.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll ask my parents…thanks, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles. “Are you taking the bus home?”

“Yeah.”

“What number?”

“Eleven.”

“That’s my bus! You weren’t on it this morning.” He closes his locker and they start making their way to the auditorium where the bus lines are.

“Yeah, my mom wanted to drop me off this morning to walk me into the office so I could get my schedule and stuff.”

“Cool, where do you live?”

“I’m the second to last house on the left of Langston Ave…number twenty-four.”

“You can’t be serious. That’s literally right across the street from where I live! I was wondering who moved into that house. I’m number twenty-seven.”

“Whoa, that’s freaky.” Orla blinks.

“Well, at least you know you have a friend close by. We can wait at the bus stop in the mornings together if you want.” The two go into their line and wait as the teacher on duty keeps them at bay. “Do you wanna sit together?”

“That’s okay, I’m sure you have other friends you usually sit with.”

“Yeah, but none of them are new and exciting.” He scoffs. “Unless…uh, if you don’t wanna sit with me that’s totally fine.”

“No, I do! I just didn’t want you to think you had to offer.” She blushes.

“You’re funny, you know that?” He gives her shoulder a nudge with his hand, and the teacher lets the kids know they can go to their bus.

Orla follows Harry outside and onto bus eleven. He grabs a seat in the middle of the bus and sits down. Orla sits down next to him and smiles. The two talk the whole way home. Harry listens as Orla explains what her dad does for work and why they had to move.

“You’re gonna like living closer to the city, I think. It’s really fun to ride the trains and stuff.” Harry tells her.

They get to their stop and make their way off the bus. Orla’s mom is waiting outside on their front steps for her with a smile on her face.

“Um, thanks for being so nice to me today.” Orla says to Harry.

“You don’t have to thank me. Don’t forget to ask your parents about coming to my party on Saturday, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“See you tomorrow.” Harry smiles before crossing the street to his house.

“There she is! How was your day? Was that a new friend?” Orla’s mom gives her a big hug and kiss.

“Mum, stop!” She pushes her mother off of her and they both go into the house. “I got invited to a party on Saturday, can I go?” She hands her mother the invitation Harry had given her.

“Sure! I think I can make this work. I knew you’d make friends right away.”

“I didn’t make friends, I just made one. His name is Harry.” Orla sits down at the kitchen island while her mom makes up an after school snack for her.

“One is still good, Honey. I know this move hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m so proud of you for making it through your first day.” Mrs. Murphy sets down some peanut butter covered celery sticks in front of Orla. “Were your teachers nice?”

“Mhm, Mrs. Simmons is my homeroom teacher, and she’s my English and Social Studies teacher. Mrs. Rayburn is my math and science teacher from across the hall. We had a study block after lunch and we had cupcakes cause it’s Harry’s birthday. Tomorrow we have art after lunch.”

“That’ll be fun.” Mrs. Murphy smiles. “Wait until Dad gets home, he’ll be so happy to hear how your first day went.”

//

On Saturday, Orla takes a deep breath as she walks into the roller rink. Her mother is right behind her making sure she gets in safely. Orla grips the gift bag with Harry’s present in it as they walk further in.

“There they are.” Orla says to her mom, and they make their way over to the other kids and their parents.

“Orla, you made it!” Harry beams and gives her a high five. “Put that down, we can go get your skates.” He tugs her along to the counter while Mrs. Murphy says hello to Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

“Hi, Monique Murphy, I’m Orla’s mum.” She shakes both of their hands.

“You just moved in across the street, right?” Mrs. Styles says. “We’ve been meaning to come over to introduce ourselves.”

“No worries, I’m sure you’ve been busy putting all of this together. Your son has been so sweet to Orla these past few days.”

“We’ve always taught him to treat others with kindness. Um, is your husband at home, or is it just you two in that darling cape house?” Mrs. Styles asks.

“Oh, Shawn’s doing some unpacking for me. I work from home, and I needed him to put my desk back together and all that.”

While Mrs. Murphy gets acquainted with the other adults, Harry helps Orla lace up her skates. Many of the other kids say hello to her, but mostly keep to their established friend groups.

“Have you ever roller skated before?” Harry asks her as he helps her stand up.

“No.” She wobbles and latches onto his shoulders. “Maybe I should just sit this out. I don’t wanna slow anyone down.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes Orla’s hand to help her get to the rink entrance.

“Come on, Harry! We’re gonna race!” One of the boys says.

“In a minute, I’m hanging with Orla right now.” He looks back at Orla as they both get onto the rink. “Okay, so you’re gonna glide right and left.” He spins around to take her hands, and starts slowly skating backwards. Orla looks at him with wide eyes. “I play ice hockey.”

“Oh, cool.” She swallows, and grips his hands as she follows his movements.

“There you go, you’re doing it!” Harry cheers her on. The DJ announces that cosmic skating is about to begin, and the rink goes pitch black. Neon lights turn on around the rink and everyone starts cheering. “Think you’ve got the hang of it so I can skate beside you?”

“Yeah, but you can go with your other friends. I don’t want you to think you have to babysit me.”

“I don’t think that.” He moves beside her and takes one of her hands. “It’ll just be easier to guide you like this.”

Orla ends up having a fun time with Harry, and she even warms up to some of the other kids. She learns that Logan, Owen, and Matt are Harry’s three best friends. Logan takes Orla’s other hand at one point and helps her skate a little faster with them. She laughs with all of them and gets the hang of skating on her own. Eventually it’s time for pizza, cake, and presents. Orla sits next to Sammy and Frida, two of the girls she was getting friendlier with in class. Harry starts opening his gifts. He gets some action figures, a new Bruins jersey, skate laces, and then he gets to Orla’s gift. From the few days Orla had spent getting to know Harry, she had learned that science was one of his favorite subjects. So, she got him a make your own volcano kit.

“Wow!” He exclaims as he pulls the kit out of the bag. “This is so cool! Thanks, Orla!” He smiles at her.

“You’re welcome.” She says back quietly.

After they eat, the kids go back for a few more rounds on the rink. Others go off to play in the arcade area. Kids start getting picked up by their parents, and Mrs. Murphy lets Orla know it’s time to go.

“I’m really glad you came.” Harry tells her.

“Me too, thanks for inviting me. Um, see you on Monday?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulls something out of his pocket. “I won these at the arcade, they’re just rubber bracelets, but I don’t need two of them. Do you want one?” He holds up the red rubber bracelet that has Roller World imprinted into it.

“Sure, thanks.” Orla takes the bracelet and slides it onto her wrist. She watches as Harry puts his own on.

From that day on, Harry and Orla were the best of friends. They did everything together. She’d go to his hockey games, and he’d invite her over to do homework after school. In the summer time they’d go swimming in his pool, and Mr. Murphy would grill them up some burgers. By the time eighth grade hit, the teasing started. Their friends told them to just kiss already, and they’d ask why they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. Orla didn’t like Harry like that, as cute as he was. He was just her friend, and she liked it that way. Did they go to the eighth grade dance together and have a conjoined end of middle school party? Sure, but that’s what friends do.

High school is an entirely different ball game. They lived closer to the high school, so they didn’t need to take the bus. Harry and Orla would walk together every morning. They were put into different homerooms because of their last names, but they had many classes together. They were able to choose their seats so they made sure to sit together whenever they could. They had the same lunch period with their friends, so it was easy enough to get through the day. Orla tried out for the girls’ volleyball team, and she got on, so Harry would make sure to go to her matches. He made it onto the varsity hockey team, so Orla continued to go to his games as well. Again, people continued to ask if they were dating. This was mostly because Harry got more handsome by the day and girls were starting to express their crushes. Orla was pretty in her own right, but she was too shy to even look to see if anyone was looking back at her.

They went to school dances as a group, but they always danced to slow songs together. The summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school, the duo got jobs working at a retirement community restaurant that only hired high school students as servers. This meant new friends, and new people to hang out with after work. Most nights someone would host a fire in their backyard, and most nights this led to making stupid decisions. Orla and Harry didn’t drink, but they did smoke weed every once in a while.

“I don’t wanna smell like it, my parents would freak out.” Orla says to her friend who’s about to pass the joint to her.

“We could shotgun it.” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I can inhale it and pass it to your mouth.” He smirks.

“Oh…” She furrows her brows. Harry isn’t paying attention to the interaction between Orla and Trevor, the sixteen-year-old boy who Orla secretly had a crush on. “Wouldn’t that be like kissing?” She giggles.

“Maybe, would that be a bad thing? If I kissed you?”

“You wanna kiss me?” Orla asks, but before she can get an answer, Harry’s hand finds her shoulder.

“My dad’s here, we need to go.” He says into her ear.

“Oh, um, okay.” Orla stands up.

“If you wanna stay longer, I can drive you home.” Trevor says.

“You’ve been smoking.” Harry says, stepping in front of Orla. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He takes Orla’s hand and tugs her along.

“Harry, where’s your dad’s car?” Orla asks when they get to the front of the house.

“He’s not here, I just said that so Trevor would leave you alone. We’re only a block away from home, let’s just walk.”

“Trevor wasn’t bothering me though.” Orla says to him as they start walking.

“Well, he was bothering me.”

“Why?”

“He was pressuring you into taking a hit off his joint.”

“No he wasn’t. And since when do you care if I want to smoke? It’s not like it would have been my first time.”

“I have some edibles in my room, we can have those.”

“Harry, you ruined something that could have been really special.”

“Yeah? Like what?” He huffs, walking slightly ahead of her.

“Trevor was going to kiss me, and I really like him.” Harry stops short and turns around to look at her. “And you know that would have been my first kiss, so…it would have been special.”

“You wanted your first kiss to be with a guy you would taste like weed in front of a ton of our friends?”

“No one was watching us.” She looks down.

“Why do you like him?”

“Because he’s cute and funny, and he always helps me buss my tables at work.”

“Is that all it takes?” Harry scoffs.

“What’s your problem? You flirt with girls all the time, you know.”

“Girls flirt with me, and news flash, I haven’t kissed anyone either. It’s not like I’m being hypocritical.” He rolls his eyes and starts walking again. Orla crosses her arms over her chest and follows behind him in silence. They don’t say another word to each other until they get to their street, and Orla starts to walk away from him towards her house. “Where are you going? I thought you were sleeping over.”

“Think I’d rather just be alone right now. I’m too annoyed to spend another second around you tonight.”

“You’re being a baby.” He follows her across the street and they both stop at the front of her walkway.

“And you’re being a jerk.”

“Why would you want your first kiss to be with someone who’s just trying to get into your pants?”

“He’s not like that.”

“Yes he is! I heard him, okay? I heard Trevor talking to Eric at the dish drop off. He…he has some bet with him that by before summer is over you two will have gone all the way.”

“You’re lying.” Orla’s eyes start to water.

“I’m not, why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know!” Orla sprints off into her house. Harry sighs heavily and goes to his own house.

Mr. and Mrs. Murphy have already gone to bed, so Orla’s quiet as she makes her way up to her room. She washes her face and brushes her teeth before getting into her pajamas. She sits on her bed with her laptop so she can watch TV to calm down. About twenty minutes later, Harry’s climbing in through her window. She looks over at him with a pout and puffy eyes. He doesn’t say anything to her, all he does is cup her jaw and press his lips to her. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. Before she can even do anything Harry steps back from her.

“Now we’ve both had our first kiss.” He mutters, cheeks a deep shade of red. “I care about you, and you care about me…so it’s special.”

“Oh…well…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He goes back over to her window, ready to climb back down. “Date whoever you want…just trust me about Trevor, okay?” With that he leaves.

She touches her fingertips to her lips and flops back into her pillows. Her first kiss was just with her very best friend, what could be better?

//

“Logan asked you to junior prom!?” Harry shrieks when Orla tells him after school.

“Shh, yes. I told him I had to talk with you first.”

“Well, do you want to go with him?”

“Not if it’s going to put you in a pissy mood.” She smirks.

“Do you…like Logan? Do you think he’d be a more fun date?”

“It’s not that I think he’d be more fun, but…you know he and I make out sometimes, it’d be nice to go with someone that I could be a little more intimate with. Besides, you have a crush on Josie, why don’t you ask her?”

“Because we go to every dance together.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Go with Logan, it’s fine. As long as you and I still take separate pictures together.”

“Of course! Oh, thank you, Harry!” She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. She’s about to walk away from him to go tell Logan, but he wraps his hand around her wrist. She furrows her brows as she look at him.

“But for senior prom, let it be known now, no matter what, you’re mine.” He’s as serious as a heart attack. For some reason, Orla’s mouth feels incredibly dry. She nods in understanding and Harry lets her go. “Go on, go tell your lover boy.”

Orla runs off to go find Logan, and Harry rolls his eyes. He ends up going to junior prom with Josie, who was overjoyed when Harry asked her to go with him. They all have a good time, and they end up having a big sleepover party in Owen’s basement. The lights are dim, and the air is a little smokey. People are drinking, others are staying sober, no one is pressuring anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Harry can’t help but glance over at Orla every once in a while. She’s sitting on Logan’s lap in a hoodie and joggers, but her hair and makeup are still all done up. They’re kissing and giggling, and Harry feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Frida shouts. Everyone gets into a circle on the floor, and they use a glass soda bottle to spin. Owen spins first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare?” Owne smirks at his friend.

“Dare.” Harry says confidently. Frida whispers something into Owen’s ear and he nods.

“I dare you to go into the closet with Orla for eleven minutes in heaven.”

Everyone falls silent. Harry and Orla look at each other, and then they both look at Logan and Josie.

“It’s not like they’re going to do anything. I say go for it.” Logan shrugs.

“This is so stupid.” Harry huffs and stands up. Orla follows behind him and goes into the closet.

“Timer starts now! We’ll let you out when it goes off!” Owen yells to them as he turns the music up.

Harry and Orla both cross their arms over their chests as they stand face to face in the cramped closet. They don’t say anything at first, but Harry breaks the silence.

“I think this is, like, the gazillionth time someone has dared us to do this.” He shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.” She sighs. “I’m so glad no one knows we were each other’s first kisses, they’d die if they found out.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Did you have fun with Logan tonight?”

“Mhm.” She smiles. “What about you and Josie?”

“She’s nice enough, I’m not really sure why I was crushing on her so hard for. She’s not really my type.”

“That’s too bad, I’m sorry.” Orla frowns. “I didn’t think you really had a type.”

“Well, I do.” He snaps. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t think I do.”

“Why do you like Logan?”

“He’s always been sweet to me. I think he’s cute, he helps me with my history homework. And he’s a good kisser.” She grins.

“Is that all you’ve done together? Just kiss?”

“Yeah, I would have told you if something more happened.”

“So…no second base?”

“Has he groped my boobs? No, I’m not ready for something like that yet.” She laughs.

“I thought second was, uh, blow jobs.”

“I thought that was third.”

“No, third is fucking.”

“Then what’s home plate?”

“Being in a relationship.” Harry laughs, and so does Orla.

“That’s fucked up.” She shakes her head.

“Do you think you’ll get to any of that with Logan?”

“I don’t know to be honest. I’m not really worried about it. I’m just going with the flow with him. Why do you care so much? I know he’s one of your oldest friends, but-“

“That’s not why I care. I just…” He steps a little closer to her and tucks some loose curls behind her ear. “I know how sentimental you get about things, and I’d kill him if he ever did something to hurt you.”

She looks up at him. She can feel his minty breath fanning over her skin.

“You can’t be my first for everything, Harry.” She says quietly.

“Why not?” He whispers. He’s just about to lean in when the door swings open.

“So? Did anything happen?” Frida asks excitedly.

“Nope, sorry to disappoint you all yet again.” Orla says, and brushes by all of them to go grab some water.

Harry walks out of the closet, and they all continue their game. When they finish, they all go back to just hanging out. Orla takes her place back in Logan’s lap.

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” He whispers to her.

“To do what?” She whispers back.

“You know.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Logan, I’m really only into kissing right now. I don’t want to do anything else.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to kiss in private, though?”

“We do that in your car all the time.” She laughs. “I’m having fun with everyone right now.”

“You just don’t wanna sneak off because Harry’s here.”

“That’s not true.” She frowns. “I just know what I’m personally not ready for. I…I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Orla stands up and grabs her sleeping bag and pillow.

“What, you’re not going to sleep next to me now?”

“I never was.” She throws her things down next to Harry, and buries her face into her pillow.

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing her back.

“Why is every guy a jerk? Like, why is sex the only thing on your pea sized brains.”

“Because our brains are pea sized.” Harry smirks. “We don’t have room to think about anything else. Did Logan try to pull a move?”

“Sort of. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere more private, and I said no, and he said I was only saying no because you’re here, but that’s not the case at all. I just don’t wanna go further than kissing, and he couldn’t comprehend that.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, I think that’ll just make it worse. It’s not like we were dating, it doesn’t matter. I just…do you think Josie will care if I sleep next to you?”

“Oh, her mom picked her up.”

“When?”

“Like an hour ago…after I politely declined a hand job from her.”

The two burst out laughing and get into their respective sleeping bags. Orla cuddles up to Harry’s side and he throws an arm around her. For the first time in a while, Harry’s able to fall asleep with ease.

//

The pair ended up going to the same college for undergrad, of course. No one expected them to go to different schools. However, their majors were vastly different. Orla wanted to be a Physical Education teacher, and Harry wanted to be a pediatric surgeon. So, while Orla was in her education courses, Harry was balls deep in biology, anatomy, chemistry, and calculus. Harry was assigned a roommate at random, another pre-med student; his name is Neil. And Orla ended up rooming with another girl from their high school who she didn’t know that well, but she figured it would be better than rooming with a stranger; her name is Katie.

During their freshman move-in, Harry got his shit settled and then went to help Orla. Their families all went out for lunch, and then it was just the two of them. Luckily, they were put in the same dorm, Harry would just be down the hall from her. Katie was an education major too, but her concentration was in social studies. Her and Orla would have a few basic education courses together before breaking off into their respective concentrations. She made it onto the women’s volleyball team, and Harry decided he’d just play intramural hockey when the season rolled around so he could focus on his classes.

Harry would go to all of his Orla’s home matches. As things got busier during the semester, they weren’t able to see each other as much during the day. They made up for it at night in the library or in their dorm rooms. The two had grown comfortable with one another over the years, so Orla had no problem just hanging out in a sports bra and spandex shorts around Harry, and he had no problem just wearing his boxers around her. One night, Harry was hanging out in Orla’s room while Katie was at work. They were laying in bed watching a movie. Orla was wearing one of Harry’s old Bruins shirts and a pair of cotton panties. Her phone keeps buzzing, and Harry’s just about had enough. He pauses the movie and sits up to grab her phone.

“Harry!”

“I’m muting your fucking volleyball group chat. I’m getting sensory overload from all of the buzzing…” He furrows his brows at the screen. “Why are they all asking you if you asked me something yet?” He looks up at her. “What do you have to ask me?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” She snatches her phone from him. “They’re stupid.”

“If it’s stupid then just tell me what it is.”

“Can we just watch the movie?”

“Give me your phone, I need to know.”

“No.” She hugs her phone close to her chest.

“Orla, just tell me what it is!”

“No!”

“Give me your phone!”

“No!”

Harry and Orla start wrestling on her bed. She’s not wearing a bra so sticking the phone down her shirt won’t work. She does the next best thing and shoved it down the front of her underwear. Harry pins her down by holding down her wrists.

“That’s not fair.” He says.

“It’s my phone.” She tries to wriggle out from underneath him, but he’s stronger than her. The phone buzzes again, and she grunts. “Harry, just let it go.”

“I’m literally not going to be able to sleep unless you tell me.” The phone buzzes three times in a row. Harry watches as Orla bites down on her bottom lip and looks away from him. “Oh my god, is that buzzing against your clit?” He laughs.

“Harry!”

“You did this to yourself.” He presses down against her to keep the phone even closer to where it’s effecting her. “Just ask me whatever it is and I’ll let you go.”

“You’re such an asshole!” She wraps her legs around his waist to try to flip them over, but her legs just aren’t strong enough. The phone buzzes again and she groans. “What are you gonna do, make me come you sick fuck?” She starts laughing from how absurd this whole thing is.

“I’m not the one who shoved my phone down my underpants.” He laughs. “Just tell me.”

“No.” Three more buzzes. “Fuck.” Harry’s eyes widen as he looks down at her, and she gasps. “Are you hard?!”

“No! I…my dick twitched!”

“Why?!”

“Because you’re moaning!”

“Harry, I swear to god if-“

The door opens and Kate comes in. She stops short when she sees Harry on top of Orla.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Her cheeks heat up.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Orla shouts as Harry scrambles to get off of her. She takes her phone out of her underwear and takes a deep breath. “He was trying to read my texts and we started wrestling.”

“Right…” Katie puts her things down and grabs her shower caddie. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I should be back in about thirty minutes.”

“We weren’t doing anything.” Harry says.

“Mhm.” Katie scoffs and leaves the room.

“Will you go to my volleyball formal with me next weekend?” Orla says to Harry.

“What? Is that what you had to ask me?”

“Yes.”

“Orla, why were you making such a big deal about this?”

“Because the girls were making it seem like the formal is a big deal and…I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Of course I’ll go with you to your formal. It’s just one night, it’s not a big deal. I’m doing well in my classes, I’m not worried.”

“You got so stressed your cried two weeks ago.”

“I was overwhelmed during midterms, you know I have test anxiety.” He hops off her bed. “Don’t sweat it, okay? Just text me the details.” He yawns. “I’m headed up to bed.”

“Gonna go rub one out?” She smirks.

“No.” He blushes. “I’m gonna go play video games with Neil. Have fun masturbating with your phone.”

“Don’t need it. I have stronger devices.” She grins.

“Yeah? Need help using them?” He teases.

“Get out!” She laughs and throws a pillow at him.

Harry blows her a kiss before he leaves and she blows one back. When Katie comes back in after her shower, Orla’s put herself to sleep. Well, actually she’s watching TV on her phone with her earbuds in because she doesn’t want to listen to Katie give her shit about Harry.

The night of the formal, Orla wears a simple little black dress that’s also strapless. She slips on a pair of black flats as well. Katie helps her get her hair up into a cute messy bun on the top of her head while Orla does her makeup. (Orla had Katie help her flatiron her hair to tame it a bit. She usually loves her curls, but she’s been experimenting with different looks.) Around 10PM there’s a knock on their door.

“Come in!” Orla shouts.

“Ready to go?” Harry asks and nearly chokes on his tongue when he sees Orla. “Wow, you look really nice.”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Orla rolls her eyes.

“Want me to take your pic in front of the tapestry?” Katie asks.

“Yes, please.” Orla smiles and hands her the phone. She poses with Harry for a few pictures, and then they head out.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harry asks her on their way to the volleyball house.

“Nah, we won’t be out for long.”

They make their way into the house about ten minutes later. There’s a table set up like a bar for everyone to make their own drinks at. Harry sticks with beer while Orla goes for a rum and coke.

“Hey, O.” Ben smiles at her. Ben was a junior on the men’s volleyball team, and he’s very cute. “Saw you on defense at your last match, you looked great out there.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks heat up, and she takes a sip from her cup.

“You come here with anyone?”

“Just my friend Harry.”

“Friend, huh?” He grins.

“Mhm.” She nods and takes a step closer. “He’s off talking to Chloe and Heather.”

“Not very nice to leave his date unattended.” He steps a little closer to her. “Especially when she looks so gorgeous.”

“Ben.” She giggles and gives him a playful push.

“You guys had one hell of a season. Aren’t you only one of, like, three freshmen to start this year?”

“Yeah, something like that.” She smiles.

“Gotta look out for the short ones I guess.”

“We’re pretty sneaky.”

An hour or so passes, and Harry can’t find Orla anywhere. He’s starting to get worried so he ventures through the house to see if maybe she went to the bathroom. She’s not in the one in the main hallway, so he goes upstairs.

“Where the fuck did she go?” He says to himself. He had been in the volleyball house plenty of times for various parties, so he had a good lay of the land. He goes to the larger bathroom, and opens the door.

“Ah, oh my god, B-Ben.” Orla’s head rolls back, allowing Ben to kiss on her neck. There she was, sitting up on the bathroom counter with Ben’s fingers knuckle deep inside of her.

“Orla?” Harry says.

“Dude, get out of here!” Ben shouts.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

Harry’s face flushes and he shuts the door immediately. He quickly goes down the stairs and weaves through the crazy amount of people in the house. He had been buzzed, but what he just saw totally sobered him up.

“Harry!” Orla shouts after him, but he doesn’t stop, he needs fresh air. “Harry, wait!” He pushes the front door open and sucks in a deep breath. “Harry! Oof!” She rams into his back and stumbles backwards.

“Get someone to walk you home, I can’t even look at you.”

“I thought he locked the door! And to be fair you didn’t knock.”

“I couldn’t find you for over an hour, excuse me for worrying about you.” He scoffs and turns to look at her.

“I was dancing with Ben and then we went upstairs, I’m sorry. I should have texted you.”

“Since when do you let random guys finger fuck you in bathrooms?”

“Um, Ben’s not a random guy. I’ve known since school started, what the fuck? I…I’ve been fingered before.”

“What? By who?” He shakes his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I told Frida.” She rubs her arms up and down. “It’s as far as I’ve gone, and I’ve never taken my clothes off to have it happen…”

“Did you do anything to him?”

“I gave him a hand job.”

“Was that your first time doing that?”

“No.”

“Oh my god!” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Are you going to tell me you haven’t done things? I’ve heard rumors, you know?”

“I’ve dry humped, that’s about it. No one’s ever seen my dick.”

“No one’s ever seen my vagina, not that that’s any of your business. There are certain things I don’t want to talk about with you, can’t you understand that?”

“I understand, I understand perfectly fine.” He goes to say something else, but he just shakes his head. “Come on, you look like you’re freezing.”

“That’s because I am.”

After that night, Harry let out his inner manwhore. During the spring semester, he fucked so many girls he lost track of their names. He didn’t tell Orla a single thing. He fucked all summer long without saying a word to her about it. When Orla first had sex the following school year, she slept with the same guy for the entire fall semester. It didn’t end well, though, which led to her crying into Harry’s chest for over an hour. That night they both opened up about everything, and agreed that keeping things to themselves wasn’t a good idea.

//

Undergrad flew by. Orla passed all of her certifications, and even found a job teaching phys ed at the high school level. She’d have all summer to work her ass off to save up some money and build her savings before starting fresh at her new school in the fall. Harry got accepted into all of the med schools he applied to, and was having trouble deciding.

“NYU is offering me the most amount of money…” He tells Orla one night.

“If…if you go there then you’ll probably end up working at a New York hospital.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you heard back from Harvard Medical yet?”

“No, and at this rate I bet I’m not getting in. Besides, they’re known for offering shit grants. My parents can’t afford to help. All of their money went to their lawyers.” Harry rolls his eyes.

After Harry’s freshman year, his parents told him they were getting divorced. His three older brothers had long since moved out, and with Harry gone his parents realized they just weren’t right for each other anymore. He didn’t take it well. This may have led to him fucking a lot that summer, and the absurd amount of tattoos he got.

“Then I guess…I guess you’re going to NYU.” Orla swallows. “You should do it, it makes the most sense, and you’ll get a great education.”

“Harry!” Mrs. Styles shouts from downstairs. “You got a large letter from BUSM!”

“Holy shit, I forgot I applied there.” Harry says, and the two race downstairs. Harry rips open the large envelope and gasps. “Oh my god! I was accepted in to BUSM’s MD program. Holy fuck, they partner with Boston Medical Center for their surgical residencies.” He looks at his mom, then Orla.

“Are they offering you any money?” Orla asks.

“Orla, um…do you mind if Harry and I go over this together? I’m going to need to FaceTime his father to discuss everything.”

“Oh, sure! Yeah, this is a big family moment. Come by later if you want, H.” She smiles and leaves.

“They’re offering me a decent amount of aid, Mum.” Harry says as he reads over the letter.

“Honey…don’t you want to get out of Boston? NYU could be a great experience for you.”

“Mum, BUSM is a prestigious medical school. Why would you want me so far away?”

“I don’t want you far away, I just want you to have some life experience, meet new people.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to stay here just because you don’t want to leave Orla.”

“That’s not why I want to stay.” Her mother gives him a look. “Okay, maybe I want to stay closer so I don’t have to be far away from her. Can you blame me? We’ve been best friends since the fifth grade. I couldn’t imagine only seeing her once every few months, and then I’d probably have to move out there full time, and she’s only certified to teach in Mass.”

“Honey, you’ve never had a stable girlfriend. Maybe being away from Orla could help you do that.”

“I just haven’t met anyone, it’s not her fault.”

“You’ve liked her since the day you met.” She laughs, astonished at his ignorance.

“No, I’m not one of those guys that’s only friends with a girl because he wants to date her.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t say that’s why you were friends. I just think if something was going to happen between you two it would have happened already. So, stop wasting your time waiting for her.”

“I’m not waiting for her to do anything. She’s my best friend, and she’s always going to be my best friend. BUSM makes more cost-effective sense. Think of how expensive the hole in the wall apartment I’d be living in in New York would be. I could definitely find a better priced place here, or I could commute for a bit to save money.”

“If you’d rather go to BUSM, then go. But make sure you’re doing it for yourself and not just to stay close to Orla.”

“I’d say it’s about 80/20.” He smirks, earning him a swat to the arm from his mother. “I’m kidding! It’s more like 60/40.”

“Jesus Christ, go call your father and let him know the good news.” She sighs.

//

Flash forward to present day – eight years later. The pair are twenty-eight; Harry is an attending pediatric surgeon at Boston Medical Center, making absolute bank, and Orla is at her third high school in six years because budgets keep cutting funding, which means P.E. teachers aren’t exactly in high demand. She lives in a small one-bedroom apartment, she’s constantly exhausted, and she wishes she had chosen any other profession. She coaches the girls’ volleyball team for extra money, and works at a bar on weekends and in the summer.

Harry and Orla are still the best of friends. They’ve made it through a lot of ups and downs. Through it all they’ve always had each other. He’s currently seeing a girl named Bailey that he met at a bar near work. Orla is going through a dry spell, but she’s not dwelling on it.

The school year had just ended, thank god, and she has Sunday through Tuesday off from the bar. Orla takes some time to go through her wardrobe and get rid of any dingy leggings or tee shirts. She has a strict budget for clothes because she’s constantly having to replace her athletic wear. She’s chilling on the couch Tuesday evening watching Property Brothers: Forever Home when she hears the jingle of keys on the other side of her door.

[READ THE REST ON PATREON]

[milkiane]

radio silence

pairings: fred weasley x fem!reader

warnings: character death, panic attacks, grief, mental breakdowns, tell me if i missed anything.

word count: 1676

note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGST for @love-peachh’s writing challenge

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!”

beep. beep. beep.

a long excruciating silence was the only thing surrounding your dark and gloomy room after that. you sighed, turning the dials to give it another call.

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!"

it doesn’t make any sense. nothing makes sense.

you should really change your answering machine, because it doesn’t make any sense anymore. it’s not fred and y/n weasley’s fellytone anymore. it’s just y/n weasley’s telephone now.

but it’s the only way you could hear his voice again.

you sniffed. click, click, click.

“hello there! you’ve reached fred and y/n weasley’s fellyto--”

“fred, it’s called a telephone,”

“--fellytone. unfortunately, we can’t come to the phone right now, so leave us a message after the beep!”

it’s been five months. five months without fred. five months without the light of your life.

it’s ridiculous, honestly. how you still haven’t moved on from what had happened.

fred always told you how he admired you for being strong. you knew that he would be disappointed if he was watching you right now, how the love of his life is nothing but a tiny ball of misery.

so you took a bath and cleaned yourself up, making sure to spray an extra amount of perfume that fred loves. loved.

you shook your head, walking towards your mirror. you plastered on a smile. because today is a brand new day, you aren’t going to walk around with your head down. you aren’t going to feel so blue today. for him.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

it faltered away. clenching your jaw, you stared into your reflection.

how can you be such a selfish person? how can you still manage to smile when you’re alive and fred is not?

you took a shaky breath, placing a hand on the mirror. you touched it ever so lightly, letting your fingertips caress the cold surface before smashing the glass. you broke down, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you sobbed on the heap of the floors, shards of glass prickling your skin.

i’m sorry, freddie, maybe next time.

you brought the cups with you when you made your way towards the living room. one was a cup of coffee with the right amount of milk, and the other one was a cup of tea with a spoonful of honey and a cube of sugar.

you placed the cup of tea on the table’s coaster, making yourself comfortable on your couch.

you took a sip of your coffee, watching the steam of the unattended cup of tea slowly rise. looking around your silent house, your eyes stopped on the muggle radio fred had bought the time you went on a date in muggle london.

you set down your warm drink down on the coffee table. slowly dragging yourself towards the device. you held it in your hands, trying to turn it on as you sat back on the couch.

“and we'll build this love from the ground up,

for worse or for better,

and I will be all you need,”

you gasped, tears welling in your eyes the moment the music enveloped you. your hands shakily tried to turn off the radio.

of all the songs that could play, they chose to play your song. the song you and fred would always slow dance to.

when your trembling fiddles did nothing to stop the noise, you whimpered, dropping it on the carpeted floor. your hands immediately finding home by covering your ears, whispering a chorus of no’s and stop’s to yourself.

and as if sensing that you were in distress, george apparated in with a pop, inviting himself in for his usual visit.

he ran towards you immediately, trying to figure out what was triggering your attacks. you were already doing so well. you haven’t had any attacks or meltdowns for a few weeks now.

“what’s wrong, y/n?” george asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

“turn it off,” you whispered, “please turn it off.”

george looked around, his gaze falling onto the radio. truthfully, he didn’t know how it worked. it wasn’t like the old one his dad owned, so he just twisted and turned every button there is, consequently making the music grow louder than before.

you cried, frustration and anguish taking over you as you snatched it off his hands and threw it against the wall.

realizing what you did, you sobbed, rushing over the broken pieces, “no, no, i’m sorry,” you looked at the frozen man in your living room, “fix it george, please,”

snapping out of his state, he walked towards you, trying to remember the simple spell to repair the broken apparatus, “i-”

“george, please, i’m sorry,” you continued to weep beside him, tears still falling down stubbornly no matter how many times you’ve tried to wipe them away.

he sighed in exasperation, “give me a moment, y/n,”

once he remembered what the spell was, he immediately placed the radio away. george looked at you in sadness, fishing out the emergency draught.

“no, george,” you shook your head, retreating backward until your back was against the wall, “no, we don’t- i don’t need that anymore,”

george’s heart broke as he watched you gasp out for air, tears relentlessly falling down your cheeks, “shh, please don’t cry, y/n,”

he immediately tackled you on the floor, wrapping an arm around you to prevent you from thrashing around as he forced the draught down your throat.

george waited a few moments for you to calm down and let the potion do its work. he thought you were okay now, you were doing so well.

he sighed, carrying your body towards your bedroom.

george was seated on the sofa near your bed. fred thought it was necessary for the room, though it hasn’t really been used until now. he was reading one of your books when you woke up.

“it’s our anniversary today,” you murmured, your voice raspy from your breakdown and from just waking up. george looked at you, but your eyes were focused on the calendar affixed on the wall.

NOVEMBER 20th.

george stayed quiet, so you continued to speak, your words still being slurred from the effects of the potion, “i wish i could fix my calendar, y’know? because there’s no more freddie, meaning there’s no more anniversary.”

he sat beside you on the bed, letting you sob on his shoulder, offering silent company.

“i’m so exhausted, george,” you cried, clutching his sweater, “i can’t keep playing pretend. i can’t- i can’t,”

“shh, it’s alright,” truthfully, george doesn’t know what else to do, he doesn’t know what else to say, not when he’s going through the same pain you’re feeling.

“he’s always in my mind. i can see him everywhere. everything reminds me of him, and how it used to be and it hurts,” you cried, “it hurts and i just want the pain to stop, just make it stop, georgie,”

george was crying by now, his body shaking as he held yours, “i wish i could, y/n, i really do,”

when you were certain that george was already sleeping somewhat peacefully in the guest room, you sneaked out of your own with your blanket wrapped around you.

you turned the lamp on once you’ve reached the living room. sitting down, you composed yourself, trying to convince yourself that you wouldn’t cry again, for him.

with a last shaky breath, you grabbed the radio. you turned it on and gently lowered the volume.

settling it down on the mahogany coffee table, you steadied yourself on the couch, letting the smooth melody coming out from the device shroud you.

the lyrics of the familiar song going from one ear and out the other, tears yet again blurring your vision.

you and fred have been stuck in your kitchen, trying to bake a cake for molly. your flour-covered fingers tracing through each word of the recipe book, “hey fred, can you grab the-- ergh,”

fred laughed as he smeared the frosting on your nose.

you scoffed, dipping a finger in and smearing it from his nose down his lips. you smiled up at him, stepping onto your tiptoes as you gave his frosted lips a peck.

the both of you smiled through the kiss, “i guess the frosting is perfect now, no?”

“when we have a child, can we name them after constellations?” fred asked, still running his hand through your hair, “or at least their second name will be named after a constellation?”

you smiled, “of course, freddie,”

“after the war, we’ll start our own family,” he beamed, “i mean, we’ve got the house already. all we need now is our ginger babies.”

“are you sure they’ll be gingers?” you laughed, turning to look at your husband.

“us, weasleys, we’ve got the strongest genes, ‘course they’ll be gingers.” he boasted, flexing his arms to prove his point.

“we’re going to make it out here together, alright?” fred whispered, his forehead on yours, “we’ve got a whole new future out there waiting for us,”

“i love you, freddie,” you mumbled, pulling him into a kiss.

“i love you, too, darling,” he said, kissing your forehead before pulling away, “i’ll see you later,”

click, click, click.

radio silence. you sniffed, carefully setting down the device.

radio silence. the only deafening noise you could hear after turning off the radio.

radio silence. the only deafening noise you could hear in the house which was once filled with love and laughter.

radio silence. the only thing you’ve faced after losing the love of your life.

radio silence. because fred weasley brought all your happiness and lightheartedness with him when he… radio silence.

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @buckysbeloved @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

golden trio taglist: @bromelain-blessednereid @oldschoolkiddo @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @eunoniaa @acosmis-t @georgeweasleysbabe @gaycatlord-stuff @cedrics-grave @dracosgoodgirl @hufflepufflesbianthings @magicalxdaydream

[heavywithourbabies]

Ten pounds, One week

She couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned (well as best as she could) and tried everything she could think of to put her mind at ease but she just couldn’t sleep. It was too much. All of it was too much. Her whole body was aching and sore, the slightest movement causing more discomfort. Even in their bed, the place she loved most, the mattress was an unforgiving rock to her body. The pillows far too soft without any support. Even the body pillow felt stiff and rigid against her. “10 pounds” she thought, over and over again. “10 pounds”. Then the other thought came. The one she was trying so hard to keep away. The one that caused her the most frightful heart racing anxiety she had ever felt. One more week. The baby kicked slightly and she whimpered. Rubbing her aching belly to try and sooth him, but it only prompted more movement under her taut flesh. Her husband snored next to her and she was on the verge of tears. Her whole body felt like a prison at this point. Completely trapped in this cumbersome and awkwardly huge body, she couldn’t find any relief. It all was too much. It hurt too much. She took a deep breath in and told herself it would be over soon. That this would all be worth it. She closed her eyes and tried to drift off but then the baby kicked again. Hard. She couldn’t help but moan in pain as the thought struck her again. “10 pounds. One week.” The baby kicked her again almost in her cervix and she cried out, unable to hold back the tears which had been building almost all night.

           He woke up next to her, hearing her sobs. He was still half asleep but knew the sound of his wife in pain, and it broke his heart. He turned to her back in bed and started rubbing it. “Baby” he said “What’s wrong?”

           She buried her face deeper in the pillow and cried harder. He kept rubbing her back and cuddled up close to her, her bare skin hot to the touch. “Honey, please. Tell me.” He said with genuine concern and love for her.

           “It’s everything” she said between cries. “It’s everything that’s happened to me, it’s what’s going to happen, it’s what’s happening…” He gently put his hand on her shoulder. “Baby, please, I don’t understand what you’re saying – “he began before she looked at him with tears running down her face. She swallowed and started to say “it’s the – “but then the baby kicked her again, or perhaps punch was the better word since he was upside down. She yelped and threw the blankets back to expose herself.

           “It’s THIS!!” She cried, looking at her body.

            She had always had a bit of an hourglass figure with well-rounded curves and even with a few extra pounds she was attractive but the pregnancy had taken that from her. In her mind she felt altered. Helpless in this state. Almost mutated……into this. Her hips flared in pain as she turned on her back and tried to sit up against the pillows. They had separated a bit and the awful weight of it all wore down on her pelvis. She felt as if a bowling ball was sitting right atop of her vagina. Which was also aching and taken from her in the pregnancy. In her mind it used to be a small cute thing with pretty floral lips that she could spread and play with. Now it was thick and fatty. Meaty and big. Her lips bulged out, deep and dark, and she couldn’t stand to wear underwear anymore as the hamburger that was her crotch would constantly leak and ruin everything. It was obscene to her. Her most private feminine parts exaggerated into cartoonish proportions. Her thighs ached from carrying all the extra weight and her ass…. she had always been proud of it being big and she knew her husband loved it but now it was huge and plump. Something anyone could notice and stare at. Her breasts once a double d had swollen twice their size. Small stretch marks adorned the underside of them and veins could be seen under the thick flesh. They became heavy and hurt. Aching with milk for the baby. Her areolas were dinner plates now, dark and huge. Her nipples stood painfully erect as drops of milk throbbed out of their ducts. All of her womanly curves distorted and blown up. But the worst…. The worst was her belly. It hung low as the baby dropped recently and was almost hanging off her wide hips. The belly dominated her, huge and unforgivingly heavy. It was dense and packed so full with her huge 10-pound baby in her swollen womb. The skin was pulled painfully taut and hurt all the time, while the heavy weight made it throb. In the beginning and middle of pregnancy she had loved her “bump” but now…. It was like she was just arms legs and tits attached to a giant sphere. Angry red stretch marks laid claim to her belly flesh and her belly button jutted out. That even hurt. Her belly button hurt.

           “Look at me” she wailed. “look what’s happened to me!” Her husband could tell by her tone she had obviously let herself spiral out in her thoughts. He would need to do something.” I’m a huge circus freak now!” she cried.

           “Well you are a bit bigger than a house” he said with a smile hoping to get her to laugh.

She wasn’t having it.

           “I’m bigger than a house.” She started up again with fresh tears in her eyes. “I’m bigger than a beached whale. Look at my body. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being inside of all…. THIS!” She patted her belly for emphasis and as she did her breasts began to openly leak. “Oh God…… even my tits…. it hurts….” She heaved her heavy body to the side with her back to her husband and cried big salty tears that blurred her vision.

           He had been staring at her as she went on. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It was slightly embarrassing for him. Here she was in pain and he was- well- he was getting hard. The sight of his wife carrying his baby turned him on like nothing else. All of her beautiful curves were only womanlier and more feminine to him. She was radiant. She was beautiful. She was a fertility goddess made real. He rubbed her back softly as she cried while the sight of her big heart shaped ass made him ache for her.

           “The baby is 10 pounds.” She sniffled. “10 pounds. How am I supposed to push that out in a week? What will I look like after that? Even worse? Feel even worse? I’ll just be hanging skin and a floppy belly with ugly stretch marks and- “

           She stopped as she felt his big warm hands go from her back to her aching breasts. He was fondling them gently. But it hurt. He grazed a leaking nipple and tugged on it slightly and she let out a hiss of pain. “Don’t” She said. He returned his fingers to her nipples and lightly grazed them, playing with them slowly in circular motions. They felt raw to his touch. “Don’t, please – “She began again and then felt him pressing his hardness against her soft ass.

           “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked as he started to grind himself against her backside. “Do you have any clue how sexy you are like this?”

           “Please, I know you’re lying – “She was about to let defeat wash over her and then her husband pulled open her thighs and without checking with her, drove himself in. She couldn’t help but cry out. Her fat, swollen pussy was already wet from being so pregnant and he took full advantage.

           “I want you to stop thinking about yourself like that.” He said “in fact, I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again.” His grip on her breast tightened forcing her to spurt out milk and then his hand was climbing up her slender neck. The strong fingers wrapping around her throat. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” he asked as he slowly thrusted into her. His grip around her neck tightened. “Don’t ever talk like that.”

            Despite her misery, she felt herself opening up to him. Felt herself grow slicker to his driving in and out. “yes” she said in a small voice.

            He thrusted in as deep and as hard as could and just kept himself rigid there, impaling her on his thick cock. His grip was like iron on her throat. “Say it again” he demanded.

“Yes” She said as best as she could with his hand clamped on her neck and felt herself almost gushing on his cock. The baby kept moving, searching for any spare space inside her belly. “You are the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen carrying this baby.” Her husband said as he started to thrust in faster. Her big ass pressing against him, trying to keep him at bay. “you have never looked sexier than you do right now, big and ripe with my baby.” Despite her large behind, he kept plowing deep in her. There was pain as he went and her body still ached but a warm feeling kept building in her belly. She felt her nipples straining hard as trails of pre-milk made their way down her swollen chest. “You are my fucking fertile sex goddess.”  He said with dominance and she could hear how wet she was stretching around his cock. “I am your- “she tried to speak but the warm feeling was becoming a fire inside her now, rising through her massive swollen belly and to her chest. She felt wave after wave of it hitting her deep in her core. She ached. She hurt. But she also knew he wasn’t lying. His need and desire for her were overwhelming. She felt light again. Almost her old self. If wasn’t lying –

           Her husband started drilling into her faster. His balls hitting her clit as he went.

“If he wasn’t lying -”

           “Tell me what you are!” He whispered hotly in her ear. His lower arm wrapped around her belly protectively.

           “If he wasn’t lying” she thought and felt herself nearing the crest of something good and wonderful. “I am YOUR sex goddess” She gasped. She took his hand on her belly and pressed it tighter so he could feel his baby kicking. The sheets under her chest were soaked now and she felt herself almost drooling between her legs.  “Feel me” She said as she rubbed her belly with her husband. “Feel how big and swollen I am for you.”

           Her husband grunted and she knew he was close. So was she.

“Feel how heavy I am.” She purred. “how heavy I am with him.”

           “Heavy with who” he demanded again in between sharp inhales of breath.

“Heavy with YOUR baby.” She answered in. a husky voice and she felt him go rigid inside of her. Her soft swollen walls could feel his cock throb and twitch deep inside her hot cunt. She felt herself tip over the edge as the first spurt of his warm cum hit her walls. She moaned in ecstasy as her husband, the man she loved, the man who found her sexy no matter what, shot rope after rope of hot cum deep in her core.

           The two stayed locked into place like that for what felt like a long time. Neither of them talking. She almost thought he was asleep when the baby kicked again and she felt his big hand rub the spot of movement, trying to soothe his son. She still worried. She still had the anxiety. Her body still ached and felt wretched. But for the moment, she could take it. And in a week she would meet her baby boy. She thought about the labor and the feeling of finally giving him to her husband to hold and she smiled. “10 pounds. One week” she thought and closed her eyes.

[dulce-pjm]

“f” for effort

word count: 3.6k

genre: fluff 

summary: this feud has gone on far too long. the study room is yours and you no longer care what namjoon has to say about it. 

You’re running for your life. 

At least, that’s really what it looks like. If you weren’t so goddamn fast, bystanders might have stopped to ask if you were safe or needed help. You’re huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf’s elderly grandma as you tear across campus with only one destination in mind. Beads of sweat drip down your forehead and stains are threatening to form in the pits of your shirt but frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. You’ve got a place to be, and fast. 

Said place is your heaven. Your paradise. Your land of milk and honey. Or as a moron would call it, the corner library study room. 

It’s roomy, it’s quiet, almost no one knew it was there. When you had loads of coursework to catch up on (which was often and just so happened to be the case on this Friday night), you sought refuge in your precious study room. During the day, the lighting was beautiful. The windows were massive, letting all of the sun’s rays beam into the cozy room and make you feel warm, bright, awake. At night, when you became especially frustrated, you could always slide your rolling chair over to said big windows and gaze at the stars or stare off into the night. 

No one appreciated that room correctly, not like you did it. 

Which is why you had to stop that little fucker, Namjoon, from stealing it from right under your nose. 

The two of you were only freshmen, but your ongoing feud over the glorious study room was intense enough to have lasted generations. You both were willing to pull out all the stops if that’s what it took to keep the other from making it to the room. You used the cheapest of tricks, flat out sabotaging the other if you felt it necessary. 

You recall one particular time you planted a fake spider (one of his biggest fears, you’d learned) in his backpack before the end of your shared Calc II class, making him let loose a shrill shriek, much to the annoyance of the professor. And while Namjoon was getting lectured on disrupting class and not acting his age, you were waltzing off to the study room, internally flipping him off as you did. The memory makes you chuckle as you heave and sprint. 

It wasn’t that Namjoon had done anything particularly wrong to you. You figured in another context, you might have found him much more bearable, maybe even nice. But something about him just rubbed you the wrong way. 

For one, he was an applied mathematics major. Who the fuck majors in just math? People who want to flex how much smarter they are than you, that’s who. And what did the applied part even mean? You suspected someone just as unbearable as Namjoon had added the word in so that he (because of course it was a man) and all his other mathematician friends could be pretentious, annoying fucks together. 

Secondly, despite being one of the top students in your class, he was a member of a fraternity. How he had time to both outperform everyone else in the STEM program and party it out with the frat brothers every night was beyond you. You’d heard from your senior friend (who also notified you that Namjoon was after your precious study room) that was also part of the brotherhood that Namjoon was on some kind of fraternity-specific scholarship and that was the only reason he joined. That you understood, tuition was no joke. Didn’t make him any less annoying, though. 

And third? Third... Well, you couldn’t think of a third point right now but you’re certain there is one, you know it. You probably couldn’t remember because you were running out of oxygen and dying under the beating sun. 

You’re almost crying tears of joy when you enter the library, head whipping around to search for a particular tall blonde. Luckily, he’s nowhere in sight. 

Your feet scream as they carry you to your safe haven but you can’t even be bothered until-

“Going somewhere?” He strides next to you, his effortless speed-walking easily overtaking your sloppy attempt at a run. Your books are threatening to slip from your arms and you’re fairly certain you lost the sunglasses on top of your head long ago when you came barreling down the bio building stairs. 

“Fuck you, Kim,” you spit harshly. “I came in here first so I get the room.” Your crudeness only makes him laugh maniacally. You curse the little dimples that crease into his cheeks, taking them as an insult to your misery.

“As far as I can see-” He takes advantage of your height difference and takes a massive step in front of you. “-I’m going to get there before you.” As if to tease you further, he spins to face you as he easily surpasses you, approaching the study room and its sign-up sheet with increasing speed. 

If you want to win this round- and you really, really do, not only to get your work done but to rub it in his smug face- you’ll need to play dirty. 

Moments later, Namjoon is picking up the pen, smirking at you as he moves to haphazardly scribble his name into the time slot. But you’re already formulating a plan. Your textbooks were pretty damn heavy, you bet it’d definitely throw him off if you managed to drop them on his toes. Actually, it definitely would, since the idiot was wearing sandals in late October. As you’re taking aim, however, Namjoon’s face falls. 

“The fuck is a board game club?” You freeze, mere steps away from dropping your books on his foot. 

“What?” When he doesn’t explain, you nudge him aside and peer at the sign-up sheet. Lo and behold, there it is. 

From eight p.m. to midnight, the room is booked. By a... board game club. And it’s seven forty-five now, which means you’re shit out of luck. 

“Well, looks like neither of us-”

“This is bullshit.” Namjoon chuckles at your disgusted expression. 

“It’s just a study room, Y/N. I’m sure there’s another free one.”

“Well, I don’t want just any study room, Kim. I want my study room.” He scoffs at your arrogance and (quite unfortunately) follows you as you spin on your heel and take off in the other direction. 

“Well, what are you gonna do about it? Tell off the game club?”

“I’m going to lodge a complaint and get my study room back.” 

“Mhmm.” He trails you incessantly as you march up to the nearest help desk and drop your books in front of the poor employee about to suffer from your wrath. 

“Can I help you?” the sheepish girl asks. She couldn’t be much older than you. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 

“Yes, can you please explain why a-” You raise your fingers for air quotes. “-‘board game club’ has booked a private study room, taking priority over student study time?” The girl is taken aback at your abruptness, clearly not used to being confronted in such a manner. But you weren’t here to waste time by avoiding hurt feelings. 

“I-” She hesitates, looking to the blonde beside you for help, of which he gives none. “I’m not sure what to tell you. The study rooms are first come, first serve.”

“For students,” you emphasize, pressing your palms into the desk and leaning forward. “Not unofficial club gatherings.” Something changes in the girl’s face and she turns away from you and faces her computer, typing something across the keyboard. In just a moment, her entire demeanor has flipped. It seems she’s not interested in entertaining your attitude anymore. 

“Well, looks like the ‘Board Game Club’ is an official, university-sponsored club. Which means they’re just as much entitled to study room time as you are. Actually, more-so, since you didn’t book your room in advance.” She spins her office chair backs towards you. “Sorry.” She shrugs, flashing you an all-too-fake smile. 

“Ugh, fine.” You pile your books back into your arms and roll your eyes, leaving the library altogether. 

And your trail follows you.

“What, you’re just gonna leave? There were other study rooms open!” You scoff, annoyed at his ignorance. 

“Well the other study rooms that are open at this time either smell like ass or have no air conditioning. So that’s a no-go.” Namjoon laughs quietly, agreeing with your sentiment. He’s been stuck in his fair share of poor study rooms before and knows it can ruin the experience. 

“So.... what are you going to do now?” 

You find yourself wondering why he’s still here, talking to you when he should be organizing his own study plan for the night. Further yet, you wonder why you’re entertaining his stupid questions at all. 

“I dunno. Camp out at the campus Starbucks?”

“What? But they close at ten!” You shoot an exasperated look in his direction. 

“And what’s it to you?” You pick up the pace in an effort to shake off your stalker, but much to your annoyance he jumps in front of you, thrusting out his hands before you can take a step further. You nearly collide with his chest. 

“Would you just wait a sec?” Your eyes glide up to meet his as you tap your foot, barely acknowledging you’re listening. “Why don’t you just come back to my place with me?” Your eyes narrow. 

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but-” His eyes widen and he begins frantically shaking his head. You almost smirk. It’s fun watching him squirm. 

“No! That’s not what I meant!” He sighs, wringing his hands. “Most of the fraternity is at this other party so the house will be empty tonight. And quiet. I know that’s why you like the study rooms and it’s the least I can do for you.”

You’re still suspicious. What’s in it for him? He certainly wasn’t just being nice to be nice. There was something else involved. 

“If you knew the house would be empty tonight then why did you try to take the study room?” Namjoon shrugs, grinning mischievously.

“You’re just too fun to tease.”

That remark has you scoffing and brushing past him, not even dignifying him with a response. 

“Wait! Just slow down, would you?” A heavy hand settles on your shoulder and Namjoon is beside you again. You’re about to scream with frustration. 

“What, Namjoon? What could you possibly tell me that will convince me to come study with you?”

He grins sheepishly. 

“I’ll buy you pizza?”

Okay, yeah, you’re a tad ashamed you let your morals slide in exchange for greasy pizza that will wreck your stomach in the morning. But you’re hungry, okay? And the dining hall was already closed and your wallet was empty and it just happened.

And now you were plopped on Namjoon’s bed typing away furiously at your laptop. He’d made a few efforts at light conversation, but he quickly gave up trying to push that boulder when you barely grunted in response to his questions. 

His room was surprisingly nice and organized. The bedsheets were barely wrinkled and the room smelled pleasant despite it being apart of a literal frat house. Though his desk was a mess, littered with math theory books and philosophy papers and historical fiction novels. The books appeared well-loved and cared for, not like they were simply written as required on a syllabus.

He appeared pretty organized, too. The oak-colored round glasses he’d donned after arriving made him look older, more scholarly. And definitely more pretentious. 

You were glad the two of you weren’t doing this at your dorm. Your room was an actual nightmare. Your life might be organized and planned down to the minute, but your bedroom was an entirely different story. 

“So...” Namjoon chews on the end of his pen as he reworks old calculus problems. “Psychology major?” 

Really, trying at the small talk again? Good luck with that. 

You’re about to completely ignore him when it occurs to you that if you don’t talk about your major he will most certainly talk about his. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard him rant and preach about math and its many uses in modern society. So before you end up stuck in that situation, you entertain his question. If it could even be called that. 

“Mhmm.” You bite the bottom of your lip as you contemplate the next line of your essay. You don’t notice Namjoon staring. “I plan to graduate a year early and go straight to med school. Probably open a family practice one day.” Namjoon leans back into his bed frame, nodding in something close to awe. 

“Wow, you really got it that planned out?” 

“Yup,” you reply, popping the ‘p.’ “Since I was fifteen. I only majored in psychology because I think it’s interesting and I’ll look well-rounded when I start applying to med school. I’ll definitely just be a family doctor.”

“Well, you are a great people person...” You finally crack the next line of your paper and type it away, completely missing the joke and subtle jab. 

Ding dong. 

“That the pizza?” It’s the first thing you’ve said to him unprompted since you got here. 

“Think so. I’ll be back.” He heaves himself up from the bed and trots out of the room, right as your phone buzzes. You only spare the screen a passing glance, but upon seeing the notification is a text from your roommate, you immediately open it.

9:18 pm. Yeji: where are you? ive looked for you everywhere >:( 9:22 pm. Yeji: Y/N? pls respond or ill be worried 9:23 pm. Y/N: I thought you were using the room for yourself tonight. Why are you at the library? 9:23 pm. Yeji: suho cancelled :( i came to find you at the library but you aren’t here ? 9:24 pm. Y/N: The study rooms were all taken. Me and Namjoon are studying at his place. 9:24 pm. Yeji: wait, really?!?! 9:24 pm. Yeji: oh my god, FINALLY 9:25 pm. Y/N: ??? 9:27 pm. Y/N: Yeji?? 9:28 pm. Yeji: im just relieved you two are finally owning up to the obvious sexual tension in this stupid feud and banging it out ;)

You choke. Is that what people thought about you? The idea made you want to gag. 

9:29 pm. Y/N: What ?? 9:29 pm. Y/N: NO 9:29 pm. Y/N: That is most definitely NOT what is happening.  9:29 pm. Y/N: That’s disgusting.  9:30 pm. Yeji: aww booooooo 9:30 pm. Yeji: and to think, i was getting my hopes up for you 9:30 pm. Yeji: but seriously tho 9:31 pm. Yeji: whatever dance you two are playing isn’t gonna last long 9:31 pm. Yeji: its obvious you two like each other

With that, you shut the phone off completely and set it face down, suddenly feeling very, very hot. 

Yeji was an idiot. She didn’t know what she was talking about. 

Right?

This argument, this feud, this competition, it was fueled by anger and annoyance and, as much as you hate to say it, pettiness. You couldn’t stand Kim. And he didn’t particularly like you either. There was nothing else going on here. 

Your arguments weren’t flirting. They were arguments. Simple as that. 

But then again, you were sitting in his room. Studying together. Letting him buy you dinner. 

Well, fuck. 

“Pizza delivery!” You scream in fright as he enters the room, making him nearly drop the box full of your precious dinner. 

“Oh my god, fuck, are you okay?” You quickly fan at your cheeks to combat the furnace burning underneath them. 

“Yep! I’m fine! Just don’t scare me like that, for god’s sake.” 

When you meet his eyes, Namjoon looks genuinely apologetic. 

Your heart flutters. This little shit. 

“Well, uh, here’s your pizza.” He slides the box next to your laptop and settles on the opposite side of the bed, returning to his work. 

“You’re not gonna eat?”

“Nah, I ate earlier. And your stomach is growling. I can hear it from over here.” Your eyes bulge. 

Had he cared like this all along? Had you just been too blind to notice it? You were freaking out, your heart rate climaxing and your hands quickly becoming lightly coated in sweat. 

The weight of the past few months hits you like a freight train. 

It’s much too overwhelming. 

You’re suddenly aware of your close proximity. The smell of the room, of him, is overpowering and suffocating. The air is thick and you think you might choke. When did that dimpled grin become so attractive? Just before it immediately pissed you off but now...

You eye his blonde locks, imagining what it’d be like to run your fingers through them before you can stop yourself. The glasses you’d found pretentious somehow make him cute, maybe even endearing. Did you always feel like this?

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or like you might throw up. Please don’t puke on my floor, I’m begging.”

“Fine!” you squeak, whipping your face back to the laptop screen, unwilling to let your eyes move even an inch in his direction. 

Even still, it’s like you can feel his body heat from across the bed, calling you in, taunting you for being the biggest moron you knew. 

You gotta get out of here. 

You finish your essay in record time, just as the clock strikes eleven. You’ve already instructed Yeji to pick you up at eleven-fifteen, and she’s always early. Now all you had to do was ignore the way your heart was beating in your throat and slip away to forget this ever happened. 

After a few days used to succumb to logic, you’d realize this was all a mistake. A misunderstanding. An unnecessary emotional reaction. 

“Well-” You stand, gathering your books in your arms. “I’m off. Thanks for buying me dinner and letting me intrude.” He looks up from his work to you, eyes bleary and exhausted. You hate the way you enjoy how he gives you his full attention and concern. 

“It’s really no problem. Do you want me to walk you home?”

Goddamn, Namjoon. Stop being such a gentleman, would you?

“No. It’s fine. My roommate is picking me up.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies, appearing slightly disappointed. No, he wasn’t disappointed. You’re just crazy and emotionally unstable at the moment. 

You bid him an awkward wave and slowly back out of the room when he calls out for you. 

“Y/N!” You freeze in the hallway as he approaches, noticing how his hair has fallen out of its styled position and hangs loosely rumpled in his face. 

“Yes?” He probably was gonna ask for you to pay for the pizza since he didn’t eat it. Yeah, that seems like a Namjoon thing to do. 

He pauses and grins awkwardly, making your eyes fly to those dimples. He wrings his hands. 

“I- uh-” He breathes out sharply through his nose. “I had a nice time.” You nod, allowing no change in your blank expression. 

“I appreciated the quiet. Thanks.” He sighs, looking as tired as you feel. 

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve been trying to tell you I’m interested in you for a few months now.” Your heart stops and you’re unable to offer a response. “I may have got a bit carried away teasing but, well…’

“What do I need to do to secure another study date with you?”

You’re shocked. Flattered, even. But more than anything, you feel your pride inflating in your chest. You quickly forget that just moments before, you were the one drooling over him and instead bask in the fact that he’s been pining for you this whole time. You feel emboldened.

You give him a half-hearted shrug. Namjoon’s face falls.

“If you want a second date with me, you’ll have to do better than trashy pizza and textbooks.” A smile spreads across the boy’s face as he lets out a laugh that he’s desperately trying to contain. 

You love seeing him flustered. You’re a bit more comfortable admitting that now. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. I’ll work on that.” 

You give him a curt nod as the two of you walk towards the front door. 

“Find me in the corner study room when you come up with something.” You give him a glance over your shoulder as you step out into the night. 

“Yes ma’am,” he shouts back, playfully saluting you. You’re already missing his annoying presence as he closes the door. 

When you collapse into the passenger seat of Yeji’s car, you aren’t listening to her chatter at all. Not that you normally would, but this time there’s not even a chance you don’t tune everything out. 

You know, you think you could make room for Namjoon in your life plan. He was a little shit, sure. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t too. And something tells you that you won’t be getting rid of him so easily anymore. 

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - True love kiss

This is long, this is perfect and I’m dying of fluff right here. Am I using my denial of Endgame in this fic? Yes. Tony, Peter and Morgan as a family was what we deserved. Enjoy!

Plot: “I tricked your little sister telling her Ursula has stolen my voice because I have a massive hangover, and now we have to kiss in order not to break her innocence”

or

Au were Tom works in Disney store, has a massive headache and can’t talk, and now he has lied to a little girl and she wants to get him a ‘true love kiss’; which happens to you, her older sister and Tom’s highschool crush.

“Dude, you look like shit”

Tom raised his head from where it was resting against the counter and gave Harrison the biggest glare of death that he could muster in his condition. The boy just returned a cheeky grin.

“Rough night?”

His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and more than anything at that point, Tom wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, and put him out of his misery. When he had woken up that Sunday morning to his alarm blaring, his first instinct had been to call in sick. But after a few minutes of lazing around buried in blankets, his sense of guilt had kicked in, and with a groan, Tom had dutifully risen from his comfortable position and went in for his shift at the Disney Store.

There were some days when he cursed the fact that he had taken up the offer; so far away from his home, with shift too early in the morning. Normally, he swallowed the whines and put on a fake smile for the excited kids that ran around as soon as it opened. As soon as he closed his eyes again, Tom knew it was one of those days, where he would have to search deep inside the excitement to not to frown to those kids.

Last night, he had had the perfect idea to go to a party. His brother had begged him to go, and since the fucker didn’t have to work next morning, he kept Tom awake until the sun rose. He drank, he had fun and maybe flirted with a blonde – although he wasn’t sure. Then, he threw up in the toilet, drowned in headaches and swallowed the pills for the hangover.

And the worst part of it, was that last night activities involved yelling and laughing, and it had resulted in the morning’s hardship; his voice was practically gone, and all that was left was a pretty sore throat.

Tom let his head flop back against the counter, but raised his hand in a rude gesture for Harrison’s remark.

“Boy, are you grouchy when you’re hungover” he teased. Harrison stood, stretching his arms as prepared to leave, probably heading to his own job at the Nike store on the other side of the mall. “See you later, Tom”

Tom just made some recognition noise from the back of his throat.

The store was fairly quiet for a Sunday, something Tom was thankful for. There were a few kids roaming around, but a quick glance told Tom that his co-worker could more than handle it. Sometimes a break from dealing with customers was nice too. He spent the next couple of hours working at a relaxed pace, stocking shelves and making sure the displays were all neat and tidy.

“Hi, mister!”

At the sound of the sweet voice, Tom looked down to see a young girl standing next to him, giving him a wide toothless smile, and looking as cute as can be. Her hair was tied up in two braids, and she was dressed in a sparkly blue Elsa princess dress; if he had to say, she wasn’t older than four.

Tom smiled warmly at her and waved hello. He then lifted his eyes from the little girl and glanced around, frowning slightly when he noticed she was alone.

“Mommy and daddy are next door buying some diapers for our new baby brother, with my big big sister” she explained when she saw Tom’s questioning gaze. “They said we could wait here until they are finished. My big brother is over there looking at the Star Wars toys”

Tom looked over to where the girl was pointing, and sure enough there was a boy about sever, busy looking excited over the new Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set.

“Mommy said I can pick a toy for the new baby” the girl continued. “Can you help me get that Olaf? It’s too high and I can’t reach it”

Tom smiled and grabbed the plushie toy that the little girl was pointing at. His muscles screamed at him when he stretched his arm, but he didn’t mind; from the corner of his eye, he could see the little girl bouncing up and down. The smile on her face became even wider once he passed it to her, and she hugged the snowman to her chest. Tom chuckled soundlessly, and brought a hand to his throat. Maybe it was time for another glass of warm milk. Sure on the café down wouldn’t care.

“Thanks, mister!”

Swallowing down the hurt from being called mister for the second time one a day, Tom grinned and gave her a thumbs up. The girl’s expressions suddenly became concerned and she looked at him inquisitively. She tilted her hear slightly and a little furrow between her eyebrows formed as she stared at him intensely.

“Can’t you talk?”

Tom’s lips twitched and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He couldn’t tell to a little girl that he couldn’t talk because he had screamed every bit of the songs of last night, and that, combined with cheap vodka, wasn’t a good choice. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his throat, shaking his head. The girl’s eyes widened.

“But why can’t you talk?”

Probably, if her parents would have been around she would have been scolded for asking such a question. But they weren’t, and Tom thought there wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying the attention that kid was willing to give him

Quickly, he took his notepad that was sitting by the cash register and wrote something down. He held it out to the little girl. She glanced at it, frowning cutely when she couldn’t make out any of the words he had written. Like if they were in a TV show, the girl closed her eyes tightly and yelled out for his brother. Tom almost jumped on his place from the strength and volume of that little girl voice.

A boy with short brown hair and a pout made its way where Tom was.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Peter!” the girl turned around, shoving the paper to his brother’s hands. “He can’t talk! Something is wrong! Can you read what he wrote?”

“My name is Tom” the boy read it out loud, giving Tom a weird glance. He looked then to his sister, who was looking at him as if he was reading the secret to immortality. “I can’t speak because – uh, because Ursula the sea, witch? Stole my voice, but I’m happy to assist you”

Morgan let out a gasp and, if possible, her eyes widened even more. She clutched Olaf even tighter to her chest, looking devastated at Tom’s predicament. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look quite as convinced, looking at Tom doubtfully. Still, he didn’t say anything.

“I know how we can get your voice back!” Morgan tugged on Tom’s hand, and smiled brightly at him. “We need – We need to find your true love! You need true love’s kiss!”

“I don’t think that would work, Morgan” Peter announced. He didn’t sound too convinced, but Tom could see that his little mind was trying to work around the lie yet. “How do we even know Ursula is real? We’ve never seen her”

“Of course it would work. It worked with Ariel!” Morgan began pulling Tom around, giving a hard glare to his brother. “Ursula is very tricky. She could be hiding in plain sight and you would never know! Do you have a true love, Tom?”

Honestly, the boy was having more fun than at the party last night. Tom shook his head and allowed the girl to begin dragging him around the store, stopping after taking just a few steps. He watched as Morgan surveyed their surrounded, Peter watching too even if he tried to hide it. There weren’t much people on the store, just two couples and their children.

“We are going to find your true love. Everyone has one!” Morgan seemed convinced; and his brother didn’t seem to need much more, since he had a excited smile too.

“Maybe we can go to the food court!” Peter chimed in, now completely caught up in the situation. “There’s always lots of people there!”

The idea of the two children leaving the store with him made him pale. As harmless as he thought his little joke was in the beginning, he clearly hadn’t thought things through. If he was seen with two kids on the mall, if the parents saw him with their kids, he could be in so much trouble he didn’t want to think off. Even if the kids hand bright expressions on their faced, Tom thought it wouldn’t hurt to force his voice one more time to avoid being fired.

Before he could cough out the rawness of his throat, another voice appeared.

“Morgan! Peter! Time to leave!” a man’s voice echoed through the shop, and Tom let out a relieved breath. Both kids looked extremely disappointed as their father appeared and beckoned them towards him. “We’re gonna grab some lunch – your mother is already waiting for us at the food court with Y/N”

The siblings looked at each other with glee, and Morgan let go of Tom’s hand to run to his father.

“Daddy! Daddy, Tom has to come with us! We need to find his true love!”

The man, who had dark sunglasses on and the same brown eyes than his kids, gave Tom a confused look. And Tom understood; kids brought home stray cats or dogs, not full grown men to look for their love. However, the man didn’t seem to react in a scandalous way, just tightened his tie and let his son speak.

“Ursula stole his voice” Peter added. “We have to help him get it back!”

“Please, daddy! Can he come? Can he come?” Morgan jumped up and down, begging. Cooper walked forwards too, and started to fill the man’s cheeks, covered by a black goatee with kisses.

“Morg, honey” the man began slowly, pushing his kids away. “Uh, this boy had to work, he can’t just up and leave. He has responsibilities here. What do we day about responsible, Pete?”

“That it’s important” Peter answered, pouting.

The man gave a whole speech that had Tom with wide eyes; even if he wasn’t specially tall, or strong, he held a determination in his voice that he hadn’t heard in anyone. After promising that Tom would be okay without a voice for another week, since they would come back just for him, the kids left with their father. Both of them gave Tom a big hug and promised a thousand times that they would come back.

That kind of innocence was pure, and if a five minute interaction could help them to keep that innocence even longer; well, Tom was willing to promise them back that he could wait.

After all, what could it hurt?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ninety minutes later, Tom was feeling a lot better. His headache was gone – courtesy of Harrison, who had taken pity of him and given him some Advil and a nice, streaming mug of tea, which helped to sooth his throat. His voice was even starting to come back, albeit it was accompanied with a slight rasp. All in all, he felt like a normal functioning human being.

The store had slowed down in activity even more; the bright and sunny day was then dark and with ominous rain clouds rolling in. Tom was almost sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go home before he had to shower in cold water when it started to rain.

Pounding footsteps were suddenly heard echoing from the hallway, and Tom looked up just in time to see Peter appearing at the front entrance. Peter spotted him and squealed with excitement, whipping around to wave.

“He’s still here, Morgan! I see him!”

“Hurry up, Y/N!”

At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Tom rounded the corner of the cashier desk and frowned. Behind him, he could hear Harrison, who was lazily hanging around, begin to snicker as he watched. He already knew what had happened with the kids, and after a whole lot of teasing, Tom had regretted telling him.

Just then, Morgan appeared in his line of vision, pulling a young woman behind her by the hand. You just looked confused as you struggled with your shopping bags and the purse, all while trying to keep Morgan from running off without you. The second the little ball of energy saw Tom, she let go of your hand and went running up to him. Blinking the upcoming embarrassment, Tom bent down to one knee so that he could be at eye level with Morgan.

“Hi Tom!” Morgan greeted enthusiastically. “We thought – we thought that if you couldn’t go and find your true love we could bring her to you! This is my sister, Y/N, and she can be your true love!”

As you stepped closer to him, Tom looked up – and felt his mouth go dry. His stomach fluttered when he recognized you. You had never talked in person, but it was hard not to notice when Y/N Stark walked into the room. You had shared a couple of classes together back in highschool, and Tom sat directly behind you in your biology class. He wasn’t that much of a genius, but thanks to you he passed all the classes; and it was really a miracle, because young Tom spent all his time staring at you.

He could almost remember the stuttering when you talked, the burning heat on his cheeks and how sad he was when he learned that you had moved away. Now that he thought about that, he had already met Peter as a baby, and your father a couple of times. How could he forget his forever crush?

“Didn’t you guys want to go to the arcade?” you asked, your voice sweet and gentle as he remembered. “It’s on the other side of the mall”

“Y/N” Peter talked “We have to ask you something really important”

Panic filled Tom. He desperately wracked his brain, trying to come up with a way to stop the kids before they could embarrass him to the next decade.

“Can you be Tom’s true love?” Morgan and Peter asked at the same time, slightly unrhythmical.

For the second time that day, Tom wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, never to be seen again. His cheeks turned red and his ears pink, and he wanted to bash his head against the counter.

“W-what?” you asked. Your gaze landed on him and he could see the recognition flashing through your eyes. The smile that appeared on your face made the whole situation more embarrassment. “Tom! It had been ages since I saw you!”

Tom nodded dumbly.

“Y/N!” Morgan stamped her foot impatiently and your attention landed on your little sister once more. “This is really important!”

“Ursula might come back, Y/N!” Peter backed up. Tom wasn’t sure who was more invested in the story, if the big brother or the little sister. “Can you be his true love or not? He doesn’t have all day!”

“Who the f -uh, who is Ursula?” you gave a confused glance to Tom, who was still kneeling on the ground frozen because I could fucking faint.

“The evil sea witch” Morgan rolled her eyes, slumping her shoulders as if you were the most annoying thing in her short life. She showed you the pad of paper with Tom’s note written on it. “Remember, Y/N? She stole Ariel’s voice. And now she took Tom’s voice, and the only way to get it back is if he finds his true love!”

Tom could hear Harrison laughing his ass off on the background. His friend for sure knew who you were, as Tom couldn’t stop talking about you even years after you left, so the situation was hilarious for the blonde. Meanwhile, Tom was feeling everything moving in a slow motion, the headache back and his palms sweaty. He had the prettiest girl he could think of in front of him, with a note that confirmed his implication on the true love thing. If you slapped him and called him a creep, he wouldn’t blame you.

But the smile didn’t fell from your lips, it just transformed into a little laugh. You tried to cover it up with a cough and brought your hand to your mouth. Tom could see the happy shine in your eyes, the same he had enjoyed when he was in highschool and made you laugh. Even if it wasn’t going as bad as it could, Tom was sure he wouldn’t be calling you to meet up, as much as it hurt him; more like changing cities and avoiding you like the plague. Forger ever mucking up the courage to ask you on a date.

“Yeah, I can” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he started at you in disbelief as you smirked down at him. Your hair was shorter, your features more mature and you were a bit taller; but he felt like he was all over that nervous boy that followed you through the corridors in hopes of you noticing him.

“Really?!” Morgan squealed, her wide toothless smile lit up her entire face.

“Only because you ask me and because you’re gonna eat all your veggies tonight” you tapped both of your siblings’ noses and laughed when a defeated sigh left their mouth. Then, you looked down at Tom and raised a brow. “Tom is going to have to stand up, though”

There was no way you could be serous about that. There was no way his crush from highschool, who he hadn’t seen in years, was asking him to stand up to kiss him. Not Harrison, who had stopped laughing behind Tom and was looking at the scene with wide eyes. Not your siblings, who were waiting for him to move. No, you were talking to Tom and Tom was having a heart attack.

“Tom, come on!” Peter urged him, tugging on his sleeve. For such a small boy, your brother was strong.

The whole thing was more than a little weird, but Tom wasn’t that stupid to deny the opportunity that it presented. And if there was one thing that could be said about Tom, was that he was fucking in love with you he never backed down. Even if it was going to blow up in his face.

Up close, he was able to notice the little details that he otherwise would have missed. You smelled so good that he had to stop himself from sniffling. Your eyes were brighter, and your hair was the same colour he remembered. He looked to the small mole that he had found years ago, and it was in the same place; so were the wrinkles around your eyes and the dimple on your cheek. You tucked your hair behind your ear, and Tom could see himself studying the last history test on his bed, his mother knocking on the door to see if everything was alright and hearing her giggling when Tom stuttered.

“You really have to make it a special kiss” Morgan instructed, dead serious. “Like the kind of kisses that daddy gives mommy sometimes. A real true love’s kiss!”

“Alright” you nodded, stepping closer.

Gently, you grasped the lapels of his store vest and pulled him even closer, so that your bodies touched each other. Tom leaned in automatically, his head dropping and your lips slanting together. It wasn’t as hard as he thought, as his arms wrapped around your waist and you kissed him once, twice, three times. It wasn’t the first time he had been kissed, but without a doubt, it was easily the best kiss of his life.

Your body felt warm against him, or maybe it was the nerves, and he realized that you fitted perfectly together. Your noses didn’t touch, your hand seemed to belong to the back of his neck and even the heights were perfect for each other. Tom was about to melt in the ground, when you teared apart.

He seemed them to see the two kids looking at you with wide eyes and mouth open, Harrison on his side vision with the phone on his ear and whispering-talking excitedly. You blushing and tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket, looking down.

“Now try talking, Tom!” Morgan said, her voice sounding impossibly loud in the empty store. Tom had never been so thankful that there were no customers around.

“Uh” Tom ran a hand through his head, floundering for words.

Tom let his eyes go back to you, and your gazes met. He tuned out the kids urging him to talk, and cherished how you didn’t look ready to run off and call the police on him. It wasn’t probably the best way to ask, since you hadn’t seen each other for years and you had kissed because of a shitty tale told to a little girl as an excuse for his hangover.

But, what else could he lose? After all, in fairy tales everyone had a happy ending; and he couldn’t let the two main characters hanging.

“What about a date?”

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[manychocolatefactories]

CatCF Dark Chocolate: Part 1, the Kids

About this version:

This retelling was mostly inspired by the original book, as well as Dahl's first drafts for it. I wanted a more old-fashioned feeling to it: in this setting television is still only present in rich and upper-class houses, the regular people using newspaper and radios to get information. Imagine a mix of 40s and 50s with some touches of 60s thrown in.

You have here 8 Golden Tickets.

  First winner: Augustus Pottle

(Based on Augustus Gloop )

Augustus Pottle is an enormously fat boy, with a head like a ball of dough and a body like a blimp. He bears an uncanny ressemblance to a pig: he has a pink and greasy skin, numerous folds of flesh and chins bulging out of his neck, small greedy eyes, and an upturned and always sniffing nose looking like a snout. All the outfits he wears are always much too tight for him or about to pop (and it doesn't help that he literaly gains weight the minute he eats something). He has two outfits during the story (inspired by the two outfits Quentin Blake drew for him): during his interview he wears a green jacket, brown pants and a turquoise shirt ; and during the tour he wears beige pants, a blue jacket and a white shirt with pink spots. Of course he can never wear his jackets and his shirts are always about to rip.

Eating is not just Augustus hobby and obsession - it is also his career. Augustus is considered a "champion" because he kept winning eating contests: the biggest eater, the fastest eater, the fattest eater... It all comes down to his mother, a thick lady wearing a lot of shiny but ugly jewelery. Mrs. Gloop always tried to find fame and attention, but when her attempts to find it at radio failed, she reported all her dreams on his son: he had inherited from his tall and bearded father a large and stout body. People were amazed at how big and gluttonous the boy was, and Mrs. Gloop thought it was an excellent way to get attention and fame. So she bred him to become the fattest and most gluttonous boy alive, so that everyone would look at him (and at her). It goes so far that Augustus is used to sleep in the dining room - being so full after meals he can't even pass the door to get up to his bedroom.

The excess of greasy and sugary food made his brain fat too, clogging it with blubber, and resulting in him being quite simple-minded. He only now has two thoughts in his brain. The first is "eat, eat, eat", he is a true glutton obsessed with eating and devouring. The second is "I'm a champion, I'm the best, I need to beat everyone else", he sees others as rivals and life as a contest, and his own fatness and gluttony is for him a sign of dominance over other people.

Second winner: Elvira Salt

(Based on Veruca Salt)

I wanted here to get away from the angry, screaming, demanding Veruca Salt, so I create this character.

Just like Veruca, Elvira is a spoiled and filfthy rich girl who thinks she can get everything she wants with money or by asking. But she is not an angry, screaming, bratty child. She rather believes it is natural and normal for her to have everything, or for money to solve every problem. She seems detached from the world. She doesn't think or believe one would say "No" to her, and basically considers the entire world to be a shop with people at her service, or a field from which she can pick flowers without a care.

She looks like a glamorous movie star of old, like Marilyn Monroe, always wearing elegant silk dresses and gloves and wearing fur coats (with furs of lovely and cute animals like guinea pigs, mink, chinchilla or rabbits). In fact, Elvira enjoys only things that are cute, pleasant or elegant. For example give her the biggest pearl in the world - if said pearl is actually ugly she will throw it out without a care. She is a girl that bathes in milk and honey, that has for a snack expensive truffes, foie gras, chocolate and champaign, that doesn't walk but get carried around, and that considers it normal for a young girl to receive as gifts emeralds, rubies, diamonds and other precious jewels. To put it shortly, she lives an extravagant and excentric life.  Always smiling, always happy, always content, she basically lives in a world of luxury where misery, poverty or lack of money does not exist, and as a result actually forgets that other people around hers have needs and desires too. She thinks she is the princess of some sort of fairytales, and the others are just background characters here to serve her story.

For the tour, she wears a candy-pink velvet dress and a "fur" made of clubbed baby seals. As her father... well fun fact, Elvira sepnds so much money her father actually looks like a beggar or a homeless man, because he has no money left for himself - but a beggar with plump and thick wallets in his pockets.

  Third winner: Violet Beauregard

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

The Beauregard parents (who look so similar to each other it is difficult to say who is the father and who is the mother) are competition freaks. They are obsessed with their children being the best, breaking records, being a champion, earning trophies.

However, for their misery, they got Violet. Violet isn't good at sports, neither at school. She doesn't have any talent for anything. She doesn't have any interest or dreams. She is a plain, dull girl wearing plain and dull clothes, with dim eyes and a big mop of hair of an undetermined color. The only thing that stands out is her great, thick, muscular jaw - because her parents, desperate that they were, found a way for her to be a champion. Chewing gum. She spends her time chewing gum, so that would be her talent, isn't it? Her parents worked hard to make chewing a sportive and intellectual talent, making her break unexisting records of gum-chewing, organizing uninteresting chewing contests... They now think that their little girl deserves to be with Olympic champions just for chewing-gum, forgetting how useless and stupid this is.

They also extended her "abilities" to chewing other kind of foods and candies, including chewing chocolate bars: and here she found the Golden Ticket, which was a dream come true for the Beauregard parents, a perfect mediatic exposure! Fun fact: Violet chewed a bit of her Golden Ticket.

   Fourth winner(s): Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck

(Based on Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck)

I wanted to reuse the characters from the deleted "Fudge Mountain" chapter of the book. A lot of this characterization is my own invention: I based myself on the few personnality clues found in the chapter, and for their appearance I used Quentin Blake's illustrations.

Tommy and Wilbur are best friends in the world. They are neighbors, they go to school together, they always share everything (even though they may fight for it first) - this is why when they discovered the fourth Golden Ticket they shared it. However their friendship is filled with a strange sort of disdain, and they really bond over their main hobby: pranking people. They like to do pranks and jokes and to have a good laugh. Unfortunately for everyone else, they are devilish little brats and cruel children, whose definition of a good laugh involves making believe someone's house was robbed, putting someone's dress on fire or pretending their little brother is dead. The worst is hurts or distress people, the better it will be for them. Causing black outs, using dangerous chemical products, hurting their own parents, it is all just a good fun.

The Rice family are the definition of bourgeois and nouveau riche, small shop owners who became extremely wealthy thanks to their trade. As a result they are boasting their money and spending a lot of it: their small house became bloated with numerous architectural additions that don't fit with each other, and they collect cars, having so much they can't even drive them all. Mr. Rice is a tall and very thin man always dressed in expensive but ugly suits and with a thick mustache looking like a caterpillar, while Wilbur is a small dark-haired boy with a round face and a round belly, chubby and flabby. Wilbur is an arrogant, haughty, snobbish boy that is friend with Tommy only because he thinks of him as a sort of "pet" - he is so arrogant that he also disdains his own parents, but Mr. Rice merely thinks Wilbur is being a "good lad", an "energetic boy" or a "little man" and is quite proud of this unruliness.

The Troutbeck family is the opposite of the Rice. They used to be nobility, living in a great manor, but they fell on hard times. Their nobility title not worth anything, money flying by, their family fell into poverty. They still live in their manor, but it is now run-down, dirty and unkept. Mrs. Troutbeck is an obese woman always wearing faded pajamas or worn-out jumpsuits and a thick layer of makeup, and Tommy is a tall and thin boy, skinny, with an angular face covered in moles, beauty marks and freckles. He has spiky strawberry blond hair and always wears tattered ans stained clothes. The Rice parents are hoarding misers, skinflints who refuse to spend and disdain the "show-off" Rice (the same way the Rice disdain the poor and "low" Troutbeck), in fact they only had a kid so he could later work and make money for them, and they encourage him to steal rather than buy things. Tommy is also a rude, violent boy, known to punch and insult all those that displease him - something he inherited from his parents, that also raised him with insults and slaps on the head (no wonder he doesn't have any respect for them).

The two kids have another element cementing their friendship: their love for candies. Wilbur spends his time buying candies to stuff his belly, and Tommy keeps stealing candies from other children, messily devouring them. And it is during one of their sugary feasts that they found the Golden Ticket.

For the tour, Wilbur is wearing a light blue jacket with a red bow tie, and Tommy a navy-blue turtleneck.

   Fifth winner:Michael Themmen-Vry

(Based on Mike Teavee)

This name was a suggestion of ArtMakerProductions, who said I could invent a name whihc would have "T-V" initials. So I created Themmen-Vry, a name based on the names of the two actors who played Mike Teavee.

The Themmen-Vry family is exceedingly rich, grossly rich. But the Themmen-Vry parents are quite pleasant people: the father friendly and affable despite looking like a pigmy hippo, and the mother being an excellent hostess despite not being very bright and quite young. However their sson... it's a different story.

Michael is the oldest of the winners, being near the end of the his teenage years and almost a man. But he stayed stuck to the mental age of a child. Michael adores television, he has several elevision sets in every room of his manor to never miss his favorite shows. And Michael always liked to play, to disguise himself as his heroes. Couple that with very wealthy and very permissive parents, and you get this brat. Michael always plays at some game when he isn't watching television. He has an impressive array of costumes and toys to play with, and when he plays, he truly plays. He forces everyone to get into his roleplay and refer to him by his fictional identities. He forces other people into playing with him - he even kidnaps children from the nearby school to play with him. And he also wants realism to go so far... well let's say he won't be afraid to use a real gun to play a hunter. His parents are so permissive, seeing this as merely "harmless childish fun", that they allowed their manor to be burned down only because Michael wanted to play a firefighter.

No need to also mention you that Michael is a self-centered and disdainful brat that is always the hero of his stories and that uses "playing" as an excuse to bully and insult other people by having them be villains, monsters or preys. Basically he is the ultimate worst RPG player you can think of.

Tall and thin, Michael has long  and thick hair covering his ears and forehead like a helmet, and a face covered in acne. As for his outfits, they change all the time: one time he is dressed as a mad hunter, another time he is a monster-killing alien-king, another time he is a ninja-cowboy from the Far West, and that's when he is not a policeman-Robin Hood.

His outfit for the tour is a vividly colored cosmonaut outfit, and he is armed with a ray gun. Actually a laser gun using real, harmful lasers. He is also one of the few kids allowed to come to th tour without his parents, due to him being old enough.

     Sixth winner: Marvin Prune

(Based on Marvin Prune)

In the original drafts of Roald Dahl, Marvin Prune was a conceited school-obsessed boy that embodied the "all work and no play" mentality, disdaining all childish fun and freedom and rather dedicating himself to harsh studies and strict intellect. I decided to reuse this concept for a new interpretation:

Marvin Prune and his parents (his father, a man with a face like a boiled onio, and his mother, a woman who looks a lot like a donkey) are extremely arrogant and conceited so-called intellectuals. Marvin Prune thinks of himself as superior to everyone else and more intelligent than others because he read a lot of books, learned a lot of things and is an excellent school student. As a result, he thinks that he has all the rights to disdain others, insult them, treat them as complete idiots. But the thing is that Marvin actually has a very poor knowledge of the world and his "intellect" is up to discussion. He has numerous facts wrong - for exemple he thinks sugar comes naturally as a white powder and can't exist under any other forms, or he believes all the ancient Greek artworks were entirely white and that Greeks never used colors. If he gets so many of his facts wrong, it is because he believes simply learning about something is enough to be an expert - for exemple he claims to know all about foreign countries because he read about them in books, but he actually never visited them or met people from said countries.

This arrogance and this quest for "intellectuality" leads the Prunes to worship all that is "antique" "ancient" or "proper" - which results in them only collecting ancient furnitures, putting dust and cobwebs in their house to make it look more ancient, and Marvin wearing outdated outfits, like puff ties or jabots. He also likes to wear glasses, though he doesn't need them - he just thinks wearing glasses makes him look more intelligent. With narrow shoulders and chocolate-colored curls, the most defining trait of Marvin is his nose, which is really big, really long, really pointy and sharp, compared to a shark's fin. He always uses the royal plural "we" instead of "I" because he believes himself to be the most intelligent boy of the country or perhaps the world, and this bloated ego of him actually leads to a darker side of his personnality: he disdains all that is considered childish and worthless, up to the point of destruction. For exemple, he only reads encyclopedia, scientific books and teaching manuals. As for the rest - children book, novels, comic books... he deems them irrelevant and stupid and so wishes to burn all of them. Yep, we have a little book burner here.

Marvin only searched for a Golden Ticket because he wished to learn more about the Wonka Factory and know all of its secrets, as well as to be able to "correct" Wonka - because he is that kind of kid that considers everybody else is doing things wrong, and that he knows how to fix mistakes and improve everything. And he pretends that to find his Golden Ticket he used a lot of calculations, planning and studies, comparing the weather, selling patterns, geography, trafic levels... but in truth he actually got it by pure luck.

   Seventh winner: Bertie Upside

(Based on Bertie Upside)

Bertie Upside actually surprises everyone because he isn't a brat like the other kids. He is a wealthy and rich orphan, but he is kind, healthy, gentle, generous, cute, humble, decent giving money to charity and being very respectful and wise. He sees the best in people, and during the tour he prevents the other kids from breaking the rules or bullying Charlie, deeming him a true "bore". He is basically the perfect kid, that is repeatedly said to have a "heart of gold".

For his physical appearance I based him on Quentin Blake's illustration of Charlie: tall and thin, blond with blue eyes. He always has clothes that match his hair and eyes: light blue jacket and yellow tie for his interview, and golden jacket with light blue shirt for the tour.

   Eighth winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on Charlie Bucket)

This Charlie I based on the original drafts of Roald Dahl, which depicted Charlie as black.

As usual Charlie is a small malnourished boy, all skins and bones, living with his poor family in a shabby and run-down house. His father is a newspaper deliveryman, which is how the Bucket family has a newspaper every morning, and his mother works at a toothpaste factory (like in the 2005 movie). Their job doesn't bring much money, but it is enough to survive. As for the Grandparents you have Grandpa Georges (got his leg cut off after the war, and is always criticizing, insulting and being revolted by the other Golden Ticket winners), Grandma Georgina (can't walk due to the family being too poor to have her hip and knee fixed, she quells and calms her husband's wrath and fury), Grandma Josephine (has a weak heart and can't do a lot of physical activities, but has a wild an insane past, resulting in her often telling stories not suited for kids) and Grandpa Joe (bad arthritis, usually tempers or censors his wife's stories).

Charlie tries to help his family: he makes a bit of money by collecting glass bottles and metallic scraps. As for the food the Bucket family survives with, I wanted to include elements of the "soul food": as a result the daily diet of the Buckets is black-eyed peas, turnips and sweet potatoes. When they have enough money they buy a pork feet or a chicken liver to add meat to their diet, but it is quite rare. Charlie is a little angel of a kid, ever complaining, working hard at school and always sharing what he has with his family.

[incoherentbabblings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Justice - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Characters: Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Kon-El | Conner Kent Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Kissing, Romance, Established Relationship, Tim Drake is Drake (DCU), Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Minor Canonical Character(s), Fluff and Humor, Light Angst Summary:

Expanded scene for Young Justice (2019) #15. Tim and Steph finally get to reunite after the team’s reality hopping adventure, and whilst Tim is keen for Stephanie to be (re)introduced to his friends, Stephanie isn’t sure she belongs.

Tim watched as people piled up the big green monsters into one giant pile of unconsciousness. He was standing on top of his pickup truck; the one Stephanie had apparently driven halfway across America without even a scratch to come meet up with him.

Tim watched as she very awkwardly extracted herself from a conversation with Jackson and Derek, not sure what to say or do, and made a beeline towards Tim. He tried to control his expression as she did so. He wasn’t disappointed in her, but he had hoped she would be able to feel comfortable enough around a bunch of strangers to strike up a friendly conversation or two. At the same time, he understood. Afterall, they hadn’t really gotten their reunion yet. At least, not the one that Steph had teased about wanting.

Tim could see her slight nervousness in the way she held her shoulders as she looked up at him, face hidden under her black mask and purple hood.

“We done? No more bad guys to punch?”

Two days they’d said. Two days and they would find each other.

They’d known it was a promise neither could keep, and things had very understandably gotten out of hand, but still, Tim felt like he had disappointed her.

“We’re done.”

He reached down, tugging her up onto the roof of the truck. She didn’t need the help, but he wanted to see how readily she took his arm.

She did so immediately, without hesitation, a light laugh bubbling out as she was heaved upwards. Stephanie was deceptively light, or maybe Tim was deceptively strong. Regardless, he tugged up until she was able to twist onto the roof on her butt. She then pulled herself up to standing to be level with Tim.

She was smiling under her face cover.

“Can I take off my mask, do you think? Do you trust them all?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “They’re our friends Steph.”

His heart broke a little that she didn’t quite understand it yet. It was a bit of a white lie, but Tim saw no reason why it could not be the truth. They had left Gotham for many reasons, altered timelines being one of many, but another was simply the desire to go new places, meet new people, and have a life outside of the damn Bat for two weeks.

Finding his friends again, finding that safe space... He wanted Steph to find her own place within it. He had mentioned it to Cassie, Kon and Bart on the rare quiet moment during their interdimensional travels. He didn’t want there to be a hard line between his life in Gotham and life with them. He didn’t see the need. Not anymore.

Needless to say that the three of them took his thoughts very well. Yes, the four of them were finally reunited. Enough with the melodrama; be grateful that they could spend time together once more and stretch it out and milk that time for all it was worth. Remember how easily it was taken away?

Besides, it couldn’t do Steph any harm to have friends too, right? Admittedly she was a bit rough around the edges, as socially awkward as she was genuinely kind, but then again it wasn’t like the team were exactly behaving at peak social norms either. Bart alone was surely testament to that, right?

Steph was ignorant to Tim’s musings and continued their conversation.

“Good. Because,” she sang, pulling down her hood and her full-face mask off. “I need to give you that proper greeting, remember? Can’t wait any longer.”

Tim exhaled at the sight of her smile and long blonde hair, but it collapsed when she leaned in, eyes half shut.

“Wait,” he said, jerking back a little.

“What?” Stephanie asked, voice quiet and sad. Worried at the rejection, she put her hands up to rest on his chest. He flinched as she did so, and she felt like crying. “Oh no… Something happened didn’t it? Is it those memories you got back? Was I horrible in them? Because I’m really sorry if I was. I’m a different person now. Literally or metaphorically I dunno but…Or is it something that happened whilst you were away?”

She spoke with such sincerity despite the farcical nature of the statements, that Tim felt the need to put her out of her misery. He grasped her wrists and then intertwined their fingers when she raised her palm from his chest. He squeezed tight, and he saw her tremble.

“It’s not you. I didn’t keep my promise.”

“What?” Her voice shifted from upset at herself to the situation.

“You needed me. We said two days. And I tried but-but…”

Stephanie pouted at being denied affection for such a trivial reason as – as far as she saw it – losing track of time. Tim was punishing himself in that silly head of his, and by extension, it also felt so to Stephanie. She took a deep breath and mellowed out her tone.

“Stuff happens,” she responded firmly. She was not interested in a debate or Tim’s proclivity for self-flagellation. “I know you didn’t deliberately leave me hanging, so why would I resent it? Impulse mentioned reality hopping…”

Her look became worried as she drew the wrong conclusion. The confidence fled her as quickly as it had come. “Was it bad? Trauma? Where did you go? Is that where you got this outfit from because ooft honey –”

“You gave it to me.”

Stephanie paused, then tugged Tim’s hands round to hold her waist.

“I did what?” she scrunched up her eyes and face cutely, shaking her head like she was trying really hard to remember giving Tim a brown superhero suit without a cape and a yellow bat on the belt buckle. “Is it another missing memory? Because it’s so unfair that you have yours and mine are still wibbly wobbly. I’m actually a little peeved about it to be honest.”

“This costume. It was… we were…”

Like she was speaking to a toddler, she squeezed tight and said, “Start at the start. What happened after you got to Metropolis?”

Tim told her.

It was an oddly long story, and yet simultaneously brief. It was chaotic and frantic, and yet the affection with which Tim relayed the adventure with his friends made her chest warm. When he reached the misdirection of Earth Three, Stephanie’s patient and attentive expression turned a little distraught. She didn’t mind having the title of Batwoman, she didn’t mind being a good guy in a world of not good guys, but there was just the fact that…

“But you said everyone on Earth Three was evil? A flip of this earth’s morality.”

“I thought so. But you weren’t. You were good there too.”

This only served to further confuse Stephanie.

“But… but…but!” she gulped in a large pocket of air. “But that would mean this me is evil! Right? Am I evil? All this time we’ve been worrying about crazy bat you –”

“Ouch.”

“—But what if it’s me? You could have stayed and helped her right? But you didn’t. And she gave you that costume as what? A present? Something to remember her by? Oh, that’s romantic and sad. But what if this means that I’m the ticking time bomb? You could have stayed and made a huge difference, right? You could have… turned that whole place upside down and made it better for everyone. From the sounds of it, I’m sure not evil me would have been down to clown... Which, great. Now I’m gonna spend my days thinking that me getting the wrong Starbucks order is going to be my start of darkness or something equally stupid. Your friends will think I’m a lunatic...”

Her eyes darted backwards, looking at the team, chatting and oblivious. Superboy was sitting off to the side, quietly watching as everyone wrapped up their work, Wondergirl and Arrowette were catching up, whilst Impulse spoke to Jinny and Naomi. Stephanie felt abruptly ashamed and as a result shifted, almost trying to hide herself behind Tim.

With a firmness and certainty that reflected Stephanie when she had rebuked his earlier guilt, Tim pressed her cheeks together to make her face scrunch up in a pout

“You… are not evil. You never will be if I have any say in the matter. Think you’re about the least capable of it in Gotham, if not in the world. You pulled me back last month from the brink of being a monster. I’d say I’d do the same for you, but I’ll never have to. You’re not stained by the dark.”

She blinked owlishly. Tim was not often that grand and romantic (though he could be histrionic), so it made her blush to be spoken of so highly. Still, her nagging concern, an uncomfortable tightness in the pit of her belly, remained.

“You could have stayed there,” she insisted. She was holding onto the fact that Tim had returned wearing a costume and a name which had been gifted to him on another earth. A name from his alternate self and a costume from an alternate her. There was something to be dissected there right? What would a psychologist make of that tangle of identity and interpersonal relationships?

He had returned from an earth where motives were selfish, and heroes were rare. He had returned wearing a name that was simultaneously his and yet not, wearing a costume that was not hers to grant. Tim wanted more than anything to make a difference. That world was ripe for his ambition.

Tim did not even seem concerned at such a concept. For once, it seemed he had not even given the matter much thought.

“Sure. Maybe I could have stayed. She would have been happy if I had. That Stephanie didn’t have anyone to help her. She…I think she was very lonely.”

Steph sighed shakily, and Tim held her closer. He knocked his forehead against hers, and her grip went up to cradle his face. They kissed, and Tim heard and felt Stephanie’s right foot pop up.

Finally granted the kiss she had been craving for hours, Tim swallowed the sound of her whimper. Not even remotely ashamed of who could be watching, Stephanie deepened the kiss and moved closer, curving her body against Tim as she tugged at his neck, encouraging him to make it harder.

It had been too long, and Stephanie was sure she was developing a complex regarding Tim, like if she took her eyes off him for three seconds he would – for the third time in a year – be zipped off to another dimension. It was almost funny how much the two of them could apparently not stay joint at the hip as they desired, and Stephanie suspected she may have started developing some bizarre attachment disorder as a result.

Although, it was worth it for moments when they kissed like this. When Tim allowed himself to feel like a seventeen-year-old. Kissing felt good. Kissing Stephanie felt great. She always tasted of cinnamon gum and liked to hold his cheek and tug his hair and she made cute squeaks when he –

No, he couldn’t get too carried away.

Tim ended the kiss with a most content sigh, like his worries had been laid to rest forever (which was false and a lie, but he indulged in it for now), and kept his eyes shut.

“I came back,” he whispered, keeping his forehead on hers and missing how Stephanie looked a little cross eyed from the kiss. “Because I had to get home to you. I promised, even if I couldn’t keep to two days. I had to come home.”

“To me,” Stephanie breathed. Looking at him reverently, she cradled his chin and kissed him again.

“To you,” Tim confirmed. “I missed you, Steph.”

She tugged him closer, making him rest his forehead against her shoulder as she buried a hand in his hair.

“Missed you too, boy wonder.”

They embraced for a moment too long, then Tim pulled back a little to speak into her ear.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Properly. I’m sure Bart did a rush job of it. They already know you, which isn’t fair. You should get to know them again.”

He very distinctly felt her tremble. Fighting monsters, fine. Facing her dad down, fine. Meeting her boyfriend’s friends? Terrifying.

Tim hopped down off the truck, but held out his arms, fully intent on catching her. Stephanie looked around once more. It seemed Wondergirl and Naomi were wandering over to the truck, so she swallowed her fear. She leapt off the car, straight into Tim’s arms. He caught her easily and spun her around twice, making her laugh sharply, until using the momentum he flung her up and off. She landed on her feet with a delighted shriek, and it was with that smile on her face that Cassie reached them.

To Stephanie’s surprise and delight, she was enveloped in a warm hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again. Both of you,” Cassie said. Chin resting on Stephanie’s caped shoulder, Cassie saw Tim’s look of relief and gratitude. “You guys will stick around a bit?” she insisted, raising her eyebrows in a gentle chide.

Stephanie choked on her reply, not sure how to react. Behind her, Tim grimaced. Why was she so reluctant around his friends? Was it because she didn’t want to know them, or because she didn’t feel she had the right too?

“I… I want to,” she said, Tim watching her struggle. “But-but my dad…”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Tim for guidance, and Cassie broke out the hug. Seeing Stephanie’s hand reach back, Tim took it tightly. He could see in her face no disdain or dislike, just insecurity and the realisation that she didn’t know how best to say her father was a pressing issue without seeming like a haughty holier than thou girlfriend.

Paradoxically, Tim relaxed. That angle was much easier to deal with. It simply was that Stephanie was nervous, and unsure of what her place was in the team. They had their memories of each other back. She held no such memories. She felt locked out, and undeserving.

How to make her understand…

“We have one loose end to tie up at our end,” Tim explained. Playing with Steph’s fingers, he had a sudden thought as a solution. “After though, how about the fact that we’re gonna need to see if the place in Rhode Island is still standing? The team should be able to use it again.”

“Huh?”

Cassie chuckled at Steph's confusion, and smiled broadly at the thought of returning to Mount Justice.

“You’ll love it Spoiler. Better than living out the back of a truck, believe me.”

Stephanie seemed bemused, like she had just suspected Cassie of mocking her but also not hearing any genuine insult in the dig at her current living circumstances.

Cassie wasn’t mocking her. She didn’t have a passive aggressive bone in her body and was not capable of being underhand. She was only trying to gently tease, as a friend would do.

Not that Stephanie knew that, but still, Tim’s heart stuttered for her.

Tim kissed Stephanie’s cheek and explained, “It was Young Justice’s home away from home. There’s a whole headquarters up there. An old Justice League site.”

“We appropriated it,” Cassie said. Her eyes were patient and encouraging. Stephanie, meanwhile, still did not understand.

“That’s cool,” she said politely. Tim sighed good naturedly, exasperated at her obtuseness.

“Stephie,” Tim moaned as she burned red from the pet name in front of his friends. He jerked his head at Conner, begging his direct nature to intercede.

“Whu—”

Endlessly patient, Tim stated, “It’s gonna be your home away from home too. If you want it to be. It can be all of ours again.”

She could not reply, as she was then embraced in a bear hug courtesy of Superboy. Cassie smirked, then called for the others to come gather. Tim held onto Stephanie’s fingers, and watched carefully what Conner did and spoke. Tim had seen that melancholy look from earlier as Conner had watched the team.

Tim knew Conner was feeling a little out of place, but he was grateful that he had put it aside to help Tim and welcome Stephanie. Hidden to Stephanie, he mouthed a thank you in Conner’s direction, who responded by wiggling his head in smug satisfaction.

Stephanie remained oblivious, her only thought as she endured the hug was at the blatant display of strength and control that the clone displayed. She grunted when he squeezed the bear hug tighter but found herself smiling all the same. There was only genuine joy and laughter in Conner’s voice as he teased.

“Hey, we finally got the lovebirds in the same room again, huh? It’s been a while, Spoiler, even if Tim says you don’t remember.”

When he set her down, she returned to Tim, holding his hand still. She didn’t understand why Superboy saying such a thing made the pit of nerves in her gut settle, but the warmth that bloomed in her chest made her smile until her cheeks hurt.

“I’m sorry I don’t. Remember, that is.”

Conner shrugged, “Hey, we’re still young. Gotta lifetime to fix that. Or make new memories. Or both.”

Tim’s hand snuck round her waist, and he pressed his cheek to her temple.

“We’ll deal with your dad. Then we’ll go home?”

“Home?” Stephanie asked.

“Second home,” he quantified.

Looking at the friendly faces surrounding the pair of them, Stephanie smiled awkwardly and nodded.

A home away from home sounded…nice.

[timexistsnow]

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 1:  little baby (of mine)

Techno just wanted to make the voices happy.

Techno might have taken his retirement a little too hard. Not that he had gotten depressed or gone insane from the seclusion- no it was a little too late for that-, but perhaps he didn’t need to go so very secluded. Since the moment Phil left after helping him move, no one had come. No visitors, no assassins, no armies, no one.

It was strange, for something like this to be so easy. Maybe a little depressing. No one had stopped him. Don’t be mistaken, Techno didn’t want to have to fight his way out physically, but emotionally, nothing happened. Not that he could blame them.

Yet, here he was, in the tundra, alone. As he stared down at his notebook, Techno realized that he didn’t know what to write. There were no plans. There were no goals. Still, Techno had to do something, or he’d go even more insane. Already, the voices were demanding entertainment.

He could… give them blood. Not in the form of people or anything, but he could still make it work. The Nether always had something to fight. He had been working on his wither collection on the side, there was no better time than now to work on something so mindless. Blood it was.

His trek was short, but the swift transition from frigid to sweltering was a refresher. The pink of his ears turned red with the burn, he was always tempted to get a hat, but his crown wouldn’t work very well. What was a king without his crown.

After wandering around and taking random pathways, he came to a crimson forest. The biome always confused him, the huge pig abominations always made him feel uncomfortable. They were a reminder of how strange Techno was even to a place like the nether.

His ears, finally warmed, perked to a noise, a squeal likely from a piglin pup. He cringed at first but then a smile came to his face: Techno never liked orphans. If its parents were nearby, he could start his outing well. It was settled, time to make an orphan and then kill an orphan. Brutal, perhaps, but they were just mindless mobs and Techno was never squeamish.

Again, a squeal, this one followed by grunts of older piglins and a herd of footsteps. It would be a bloodbath.

There it was, a piglin pup… being chased. And the pup was bleeding and crying, but not for its mother in piglish like the normal ones did. This was just crying out. For anyone. The thing tripped on a shroom, falling to the nether wart ground. When a shield bashed into its snout, it didn’t get back up. The crying stopped.

“We have it, boys! The little thing will be a good subject for us, won’t you?” the villager pulled the piglet to his face, holding him by a hoof. They muzzled him, stopping the squealing. He wanted his momma and papa.

No, not again. Yes, they were mindless mobs, but Techno didn’t care at the moment, the pup needed help. The piglins- they would hurt them- they would take them and hide them away, change them into something horrific!

Sprinting what felt like a chasm of blocks, Techno pulled out his axe- he couldn’t risk the sweeping edge- and struck down each piglin until only the pup remained. They were beginning to wake up, and the tears resumed. Their eyes never opened but they could smell the blood on the axe, they thought it was their turn.

“No, no, little pup, I’m not here to hurt you,” Techno soothed the pup, sheathing his axe. With a closer look, the pup was in bad shape. They were bruised and their snout appeared to be broken with all of the blood and swelling. He… could leave it. But no, that would be wrong, even Techno had some common decency. There was no way that the pup would survive in this state in the Nether. They would have to come home, if just for the night.

The pup must have been exhausted as it only whimpered when Techno scooped it up into his arms. When they came to the portal, the pup finally came to its senses. Wretched squeals and sobs tore from their abused throat, they only cried more as blood seeped from the broken nose and onto Techno’s shirt. Techno couldn’t help but grimace, this wasn’t a good look, they probably through they were being taken away

from his straw shelter that his family had just built. He wanted home, he wanted to sleep in a nice pile of straw for the first time. He wanted his momma’s milk. But the men were dragging him further and further away. Techno couldn’t even squeal with his snout muzzled with rope. It burned against his fair skins, his soft fur tearing out.

and Techno couldn’t just let the piglin go because it would die and he could not let that happen. But it was because he should, as a decent person. So even with the crying, they had to go.

Stepping through the portal made Techno shiver, he always forgot the cold. The little bundle- oh, the little bundle definitely never even knew of the cold. They screamed out and Techno took off his cape, swaddling them up. It seemed to help a bit, little hoof-like hands snuck out the fuzzy mess to pet the red fabric. They were mesmerized by it, their little milky eyes wide in wonder, the crying reduced to sniffles. Techno smiled, at least he wasn’t the only one who appreciated his style.

He almost pulled out a pearl before thinking otherwise, the jolt might be too much for the pup. Don’t judge him for being cautious, he’d never cared for a baby, even less a piglin pup. How to begin the care, he still hadn’t worked out. Just do what you do for yourself, you’re both pigs, anyway. Techno shrugged, that seemed like better than nothing, and if the pup died, well at least he tried. That was all he could do in the end.

Once arriving at his cottage, Techno set them on the carpeted floor, still swaddled in his cloak. Luckily, he always had potions brewed, just in case (even though no one ever came), so he juggled a few healing over to their place on the blue carpet. The clunk startled the pup away from the red fabric, and they shimmied towards the door and then paused. Techno watched as they whimpered at their bare arms now exposed to the cool air of the cottage, they had left the cloak in their panic. Techno smiled and crouched down.

“You can keep this if you want- just for now. I’ve got more,” they shied away at the words, not moving from their spot. Oh, right, piglins don’t speak English. He repeated it in broken piglish, but even then, the pup just stared blankly. Instead, Techno slid his cloak across the floor. Once it touched the piglin pup’s hoof, they squealed hoarsely in joy, finally getting the message.

“There you go,” Techno reached back and unscrewed the cork and slid it to the pup, “Drink this.” A little hand unlatched from the cloak and poked the glass. Techno sighed and mimed drinking.

The crouch was wearing on him so Techno sat down cross-legged like the piglin. He might as well try to look as unthreatening as possible. When his knee bumped one of his potions, Techno debated how many he should give the pup. One would probably be enough, but with a busted snout, he wasn’t sure. Could they even drink a full one without getting sick? Techno cursed himself, he should have thought of that.

Attention going back to the pup, they were… dunking their hand in and sucking it off like honey. Okay, that wasn’t adorable, not at all. Techno was a tough anarchist, he would not be swayed by a child being stupid. At least the swelling was going down, the dark blue turning to a sickly yellow. It must not have been as bad as Techno originally thought, because it didn’t look like it needed setting.

But the blood, that was another story. They looked like they had never been groomed, definitely not bathed. Then again, there wasn’t any water to be bathed in when in the nether, but normal piglins always looked better than this. Why weren’t they groomed? Why were they cast out?

It didn’t matter now, the pup needed a clean, Techno told himself. He wasn’t even going to keep them for more than the night, there was no need for speculation. Even if he wanted to help them for a while, it would be wrong, they would lose their connection to the Nether and natural instincts for survival. At that point, he might as well put them out of their misery- no. Think of the now, not of the later.

Once the pup was done with their drink and had licked their hand… clean he scooped them up. They didn’t struggle much this time, simply snuggling down into the body heat Techno was emitting. Yeah, they definitely needed a shower, the Nether did them no favors.

With a bath running- only a few inches, keep it lukewarm (Phil used to tell Techno how to care for Tommy even if he never took care of Tommy himself) Techno undressed the pup from its ragged clothing and set them in the tub. At first, they sat still, the wetness clearly being a new sensation, but with a single tentative slap of the water, they were having fun. Techno chuckled at the childishness of the pup, he hadn’t seen something so innocent in a while. He’s not tearing up, it’s just… soft, unlike the sharp edges of L’manburg and axes and threats like he was used to.

But the pup needed bathing so there was no time for a crisis. It was an awkward process, the pup (now dubbed a girl) wasn’t the most compliant, she just wanted to play. For a minute he let her, but it got tiring and was late in the day. Techno had things to do.

After getting her freshened up and dried, he realized something: she had no clothes. The rags were still on the floor but that’s all they were: rags. The pup kicked at them, clearly having the same idea. Okay, something else it is. Going through the door of the bathroom and into his bedroom/library, Techno dug around in his chest of clothes. A bed shirt, that could do. Oh, and if he used a small sash he could tie it to be a dress, yes. The pup let him assemble her outfit, more interested in the new softness.

Techno studied his work, tapping his hoof. It was quite temporary but tomorrow he could go to the village and get some baby villager’s clothes. Another noise joined his thoughts, slightly offbeat to his tapping. The pup was tapping her hoof along him, her brow scrunched up in concentration. When he hummed a laugh at her, she shrank away, grabbing up the cloak and covering herself with it again. Oh.

The villagers laughed at his feeble attempts at wiggling out of their grasps, they poked at his fragile skin with their sticks. When the whimpering started, their laughs only became bellows. “It’s a funny little piggy isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Techno knew he had to speed things along or the day would never end. “Okay, pup, I bet you want some food, don’t you?” The pup perked up, eyes going wide and expectant, huh, that was… strange.

His table only ever had one chair, not bothering to take up any more space than what was needed, so the pup sat and Techno stood. Food, food was a thing all creatures ate… what did piglins eat? Pig, of course, think pig. All pigs liked potatoes and carrots, and look at that, Techno was the potato guy. He didn’t have many, most of them were left at the ravine in Pogtopia, but for today, she’d be fine.

Putting a potato in his smoker, he took a moment to study the piglin pup. Again, why? It just didn’t make sense. The pup only stared back, her fidgeting getting more and more intense. He should probably stop. But the question burned into his mind-

“Stop!” she squealed. Now Techno stared, blinked- “Stop!”

The smoker beeped, and Techno jerked around. One breath in, another out. Just get the food, figure it out later. When he peaked back, the pup looked… smug. Piglins don’t do any of that. They get angry, they growl, they definitely don’t speak English and look smug. Perhaps, that would explain some of her treatment.

He pondered this as he plated her food and slid it across the table to the pup. When the pondering switched back to staring, she shrunk down again, eyes going between the potato and Techno’s gaze. “You can eat, I-” Techno wanted to ask so many questions, but, “I’ll… stop.”

She nodded and munched into the potato. Techno adverted his gaze, feeling awkward. His stomach grumbled to the sound of her eating. Instead of going for potatoes, Techno pulled out his golden carrots, setting a few on the table. At the sound of the clunk, the pup oinked around a mouthful. One of her hands released the potato and made grabby hands at the carrot. Oh, gold of course. But, then she would want more, Techno reasoned.

Another oink, sounding more like a piglet than a fierce piglin pup. Techno sighed and scratched through the fur at the back of his head: she was really cute. Damnit. He didn’t even need the voices to know that.

Oink, oink.

“Okay, fine, finish the potato and I’ll give you one,” he caved. She was just so… precious. Techno let out a whimper, she was smiling again, with that stupid smug look.

She began her munching again, all hesitance gone. Techno joined her, snacking on his carrots, making sure to leave one on the table. The carrots were alright, the taste never mattered as much as the fact that he was putting something in his body. At least the shiny-ness entertained the piglin once she got her chubby hands on it.

The cronch cronch of the carrots was the soundtrack to Techno’s spiraling thoughts. Why was she intelligent? Clearly not as in super-genius, but mobs couldn’t pick up languages other than their own, it was part of their nature. The piglin pup wasn’t natural though, that Techno did know.

“What. Want?” she spoke up, her carrot gone. Techno would never get used to that.

Techno hummed at her, shaking his head, “Nothing.”

She- needed a name- mimicked him, shaking her head back. She pointed at him, “Want.”

Techno sighed and decided to indulge her, “You needed help so I did. Simple as that.”

A huff escaped her snout before she startled again, shrinking down and hunching her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I pulled you out of the Nether. Probably should have thought that through more.” Techno was a fool, the poor pup didn’t know what to do with herself. Techno didn’t know what to do with her.

Now it was silence. The weirdest standoff Techno had ever been in, with a child none the less. Thankfully, the pup broke first, yawning wide. Their little tusks poked out, they looked like they had just started coming through. Which meant this pup was very young. And needed naps. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

“Beh-d,” she mouthed out, allowing Techno to pick her up and back to the library.

The blue sheeted bed was almost never used, still made from a few days ago. Techno didn’t like to sleep, and with a sleepy piglin in his arms reminding him of it, he was starting to feel the deprivation now. His yawn joined hers. He sat down and set her next to him by the pillow end.

Patting the bed, he explained, “This is a bed, you sleep on it.” She still looked a little confused and did a weird motion with her hands. It looked like an explosion, but Techno paid it no mind. If his knowledge was correct, baby piglins mostly slept in netherrack caves in groups, a bed would be a foreign experience. To show her he meant no harm, he lied down on his side, his back to the wall. She did the same, picking at the wool blanket she lied on. Techno smiled and tucked her in.

“You,” she demanded, tugging at the blanket stuck under his body weight. Oh, she thought he was going to stay with her. Right as he was about to decline, another “You!” squealed out.

Techno sighed and considered his options. It would make more sense to stay with her, make sure she’s alright through the night. He didn’t want to sleep, but…

He slithered under the blanket, trying to not get amused at the smile that graced the pup. At least she wasn’t crying.

When his eyes started to slip shut, Techo swore that he fought the need to sleep, but the piglin snuggled against his chest and the snore-like oinks were so relaxing. So maybe, he would allow himself to waste one day away. It was nice to not be so isolated for once, he thought. Soon, there were two sets of oink-like snores.