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auggieblogs · 7 months

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From mine to yours | Max Verstappen Instagram au

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Max does not hide his blatant favouritism!!!

Author's note: HAPPY DIWALI TO EVERYONE CELEBRATING!!! I hope all of you are doing good. This smau is a service to all my brown girlies, (and @maxiepinkz) consider it a Diwali gift. Also, my non-brown girles, all of you can read it just for the funnies (I like to think I am hilarious). Anyway, I love you all so much. Happy reading, my loves🤍

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 124,789 others

yourusername Happy Diwali🪔

tagged maxverstappen1

comments:

username parents if I may

username MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A BLACK KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL HSJAHDSG

username me and who

landonorris Diwali is my favourite festival actually

maxverstappen1 We'll send over the leftover sweets Lando, don't worry landonorris good because Oscar was worried oscarpiastri EXCUSE ME WHAT THE ACTUAL- yourusername It's okay Osc, we know it is actually Lando landonorris NUH UH

username Y/N, meri jaan<3 (Y/N my beloved)

username this could be us but you don't even know what is Diwali

username dear god when I get to hell please let me bring Y/N and Max

username Everyone should thank Y/N for getting Max out of his rbr merch bc he looks fucking delicious in that kurta

username Thank you Y/NNN username Thank uuuu, Y/N you're doing god's work username we owe you Y/N😭 yourusername You're welcome my bacchas mwah😘 (You're welcome my babies)

maxverstappen1 I love you kaafi zyada (I love you a lot)

yourusername more than redbull sugar-free? maxverstappen know your limits (yes)

username damn this making me feel a different typa lonley

martingarrix Sick party, sick music and I WON THAT GAME OF CARDS

yourusername Martin puh lease🤚🏼🙄

charles_leclerc I need that party playlist Y/N I'm begging

lewishamilton +1

lilymhe omg me too!!!

yourusername anything for my favourite lady🫶🏼

username Y/N making all the firangis (foreigners) dance on desi music like yessss queen reverse colonisation or something

username ik my goat

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 450,314 others

maxverstappen1 Happy Diwali, from mine to yours❤️🪔

tagged yourusername

comments:

username this is heartwarming awh!!!

username snshsj I love them

sophiekumpen Beautiful, Y/N💕

*liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername*

yourusername Thank you so much, Sophie🥰

username I absolutely adore the Diwali vibes✨

username he posted 6 pics and 3/6 of them is Y/N I AM ON THE FLOOR

username down horrendously

username can you blame him though???

username I genuinely understand.

yourusername I love you, Max. Kaafi zyada. Bohot zyada. HADD SE ZYADA. (I love you, Max. A lot. Like A LOT. Beyond limits)

maxverstappen1 And I love you usse bhi zyada (And I love you more)

yourusername sharm aa gyi mujhe hehe🤭 (I’m blushing)

username Max learning Hindi for Y/N can be something so personal

username his side quests are getting out of hands

username bro probably did it to impress the in-laws

yourusername he knows 3 languages, what’s one more?😼

maxverstappen1 I am a romantic like that actually😊

username pretty pretty

username nahh this mf keeps winning on and off track annoying asf🙄👎🏼 ( I love them so much)

username oh to celebrate Diwali with my white boyfriend😭🙏🏼

username jokes aside, I want to know what max looks like up close with that kurta on

yourusername rishta material fr🤤 (marriageable)

danielricciardo It's the way we all were at the celebration and you managed to post just Y/N.

maxverstappen1 I do not hide my favouritism

username my desi girllll

username Y/N is living all my f1 driver x desi reader fantasies and I love it for her

redbullracing Hopefully we're invited to the Diwali party next year😁

landonorris nahhh no way after the ladoo incident

alexalbon Y/N is going to pull out her hair😭

yourusername uhm I'm actually conflicted tbh.

username WHAT IS THE LADOO INCIDENT?

Diwali, also known as Deepavali, is a Hindu festival celebrated with great enthusiasm across India and various other parts of the world. It symbolizes the victory of light over darkness and good over evil. Diwali typically involves lighting oil lamps or diyas, decorating homes, exchanging gifts, and enjoying festive meals with family and friends. The festival holds cultural, religious, and social significance, promoting the spirit of joy, unity, and hope.

A ladoo (also spelt laddu) is a popular and traditional Indian sweet. It is a round-shaped sweet ball made from various ingredients, including flour, sugar, and ghee (clarified butter). Ladoos are often prepared during festivals, celebrations, and religious occasions in India. They are considered a symbol of good luck and are distributed as a gesture of joy.

Needless to say, it's my favourite time of the year😁

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writingwithfolklore · 6 months

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Creating Fictional Holidays

Happy Holidays everyone!

Like mythology or folklore, holidays can add an extra bit of realism and magic to your fictional worlds, and provide for an interesting setting to portray characters, culture, or even family dynamic.

While you can use real world holidays and adapt them to your worlds, you may also want to create your own! Here’s a few things to consider:

1. What does your holiday celebrate?

Typically, holidays come from historical events or events believed to have happened by religious groups. Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ. Diwali celebrates the victory of light over darkness, or good’s triumph over evil. Passover celebrates Israelites’ escape from slavery. This would be a great chance to delve into the history of your world, and how it forms and influences communities.

Otherwise (and as well as), holidays can be expressions of important cultural values such as community, hard work, or family. The Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos) is the celebration of honoring passed family members, Labour day is held to honour the struggle for unionization by working people. What does your holiday say about the society or community that created it?

2. How has your holiday adapted?

As much as holiday is entrenched in longstanding tradition, there is no escaping modernization and adaption to contemporary norms. As much as Christmas is a religious holiday at its roots, for many, it’s a celebration of family and gift giving. Rather than being a saint, Santa has become the jolly toy-maker separated from religion entirely.

If your holiday began to celebrate say Harvest season, but in modern times ‘harvest season’ is no longer regularly recognized, how does this society continue to celebrate this holiday? Where does tradition and modern standards intersect?

3. How do people perceive the holiday?

Even joyous, wholesome holidays are going to have haters. Just think of Valentines Day coming around every year—there are people who love it, people who hate it, and people who see it as a superficial excuse to fund capitalism and consumer culture. What do the people of your world believe about the holiday, or what groups/communities are invited or left out?

4. What rituals go into celebrating your holiday?

During Christmas, many families bring in a tree, wrap gifts to put under it, and bake cookies for a secret intruder in the night. A ritual is just a way people honour something—it doesn’t necessarily have to be cultish or ‘evil’. What longstanding rituals go into the celebration of your holiday?

Maybe gifts are exchanged, candles are lit, cards are given out, money is donated, certain foods are given up or certain times limit eating (such as fasting), families gather, parties are held, etc. etc. There are thousands of ways people celebrate what’s important to them. Consider how each family or character in your story might take a slightly different spin on the same rituals.

I hope no matter what or how you celebrate this year, you get time to spend with your loved ones <3

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #film #writing advice #holidays #festiveseason #worldbuilding

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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AITA for refusing to buy my friend gold?

I (f/33) have a very good friend (f/39) who is Hindu and an Indian immigrant, and this year she invited me and my wife (33) to celebrate Diwali with her. My wife and I are white canadians and not religious. We’ve been friends with her for almost a decade, but in the last few years have become very close and now she is basically family. We happily accepted.

We brought over food and the stuff to make paper lanterns, and we had a lovely time. The problem came when near the end of the night, when my friend told me that it’s been so long since she had people to celebrate Diwali with, and she was getting excited for presents. I didn’t know Diwali included presents so I hadn’t brought her anything, besides the craft supplies and food, she said that was fine and we could get her something next year.

I asked her what sort of gift she would like, and she said gold was the traditional gift and, I quote “but make sure it’s above 10 karat or it’s basically tin, I’d just throw it away.”

I thought this was a joke at first so I laughed, which made her confused. I explained that I would never give anyone gold as a gift, I’ve never even gotten my wife gold, we couldn’t even afford wedding rings. When she still looked confused I tried to clarify, and asked how much is a gift of gold, traditionally (since I’ve never bought gold, I had no idea how much it would cost.)

She told me a minimum of 500 dollars.

At this point is the behaviour I think might make me an asshole, because I was laughing in complete disbelief very openly. I told her that was completely insane, and I would happily spend every Diwali with her and get her a gift, but there was no way I was buying her 500 dollars worth of gold, ever, especially not if it was a yearly thing.

I know that in India, my friend was of a pretty high caste socially and her family is well off, and here in Canada she is an accountant who owns her own condo, and is looking to buy more property and become a landlord. My wife and I live frugally, we’re blue collar and both from working class families. An average amount I spend on a Christmas or birthday gifts for someone I’m close to would be about 20-50 bucks.

After I’d explained all this to her, I could tell she was disappointed and it had made her sad and confused. Part of me feels bad for laughing at her tradition, especially since she made the effort to include us and has no family here to celebrate with. But it honestly boggles me, and makes me a bit mad, honestly, which I know is unfair since it’s just differences in how we grew up, but I can’t help feeling annoyed and like she’s not seeing her privilege.

This has been compounded by the fact that for Christmas, which we also celebrated with her, she actually gave us gold, worth quite a lot, in the form of a special coin. We’re not the type to display fancy stuff, so it just sits in storage now. But I’m worried she may expect tit-for-tat, even though the only way we could possibly afford to give her gold back in exchange is if we sold what she gave us which we are definitely not supposed to do.

We still hang out constantly and we will continue to do so, she is a for-life friend for a lot of reasons, and I’d love to make her holidays and celebrations special, but this is just a sticking point for me, and I find myself feeling/acting like a prick every time it’s brought up.

So, AITA? Does anyone have suggestions for this situation?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mochinomnoms · 6 months

Note

Hiii! For the Hanahaki event can I request Vil (romantic) with prompt #7? A gender neutral reader would be appreciated, thanks!!

Also if youre up for it maybe prompt #12 with Ace (Platonic) with the reader’s object of affection still being Vil? This prompt with Ace is too funny for me to ignore I just HAVE to sneak him in 😭😭

vil schoenheit, platonic!ace trappola x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, humor, semi enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, sickenly sweet [wc} – 3,458 prompt 7: “I've heard of wearing your heart on your sleeve, but wearing petals in your hair is a whole new level of fashion statement.” prompt 12: "No, I haven't been growing marigolds out of my ass. Why would you even ask that?!” note - writing this was surprisingly hard. but i got it and i think it's very cute, i just hope Vil is mostly in character :skull: also i don't know german so idk if the nickname is an accurate translation! comments loved and appreciated! a floral inconvenience

Marigold: often used during festivals like Diwali and Navratri, marigolds symbolize purity, auspiciousness, and the divine.

You were going to murder him.

“Heyyyyyy Prefect!” Ace gave you a cheeky grin as he held your glass bottle of very expensive salicylic acid serum, balancing it precariously between his fingers. “What about this? Can I take this—whoops!”

“ACE!”

You shrieked as the bottle slipped from his fingers, only to be caught by his other hand, an infuriating grin still on his hand.

“Hehe, relax! I’m just messing around—oh shit!” The bottle slipped again from his fingers as a now panicked Ace scrambled to capture it. “Oop. Got it. It’s fine.”

“Oh my gooooooooood, Ace, I’m going to fucking kill you, give that back!” You snatched the bottle from his hands, giving him a good kick behind the knees as you walked past him.

“Owwwww, Prefect, why are you so mean to me?” Ace pouted as you put your serum back on your desk with the rest of the skincare Vil had gifted everyone at the start of the SDC training. Ace continued whining as he packed his bags to go back to Heartslabyul, being left behind by Deuce who went to get snacks from Sam’s with Epel.

He felt bad that all the food you had was cursed by Vil at the beginning.

“It’s almost like you want me out of your dorm, kinda rude, you know.”

“You know what’s rude?” You smacked down the pillow Ace threw your way as you huffed, “Your face. Ugly ass, you know you had a room next door, how’d all your stuff end up in my room?”

Ace shrugged as he shoved his wrapped up sweater into the now bulky backpack he’d brought over, throwing himself onto your bed and grunting as he bounced on the squeaky frame.

“I don’t know, how’d you burn the Queen of Hearts’s statue—”

“That was you—”

“—the world will never know.”

You rolled you eyes as you laid on your stomach next to him, hugging a spare pillow to your face. Closing your eyes, you sighed as the events of the last few weeks replayed in your head. Between acting as manager for the SDC group, to barely keeping up with classes, to Vil’s overblot, you were utterly exhausted. Speaking of Vil…

“Ah, that’s right, I should check on Vil before he leaves. I wonder if he’s doing okay?”

“With you at his beck and call? Perfectly fine, I guarantee you.” Ace yelped as you smacked his side, giving him a red-faced glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ace turned on his side with a teasing smirk. The kind of smirk he gave you whenever he wanted to fluster and embarrass you in front of your friends and teachers.

“It means whatever you want it to mean. Maybe someone should consider not acting like a little kid with a crush whenever they’re around Vil—owowowowowow—stop hitting me!”

You pounded your fists onto Ace’s sides and back as he tried to roll away from your reach, arms cradling his head in meek protection. He managed to roll off the bed, turning over to look at you briefly to stick his tongue out and politely flip you off. Ace let out a small shriek as you launched off the bed after him, running out of the room into the hall and turning into a goosechase. You could practically hear the yakety sax song playing in your head as the two of you pushed past Jamil and Kalim, the former crying out at you in annoyance.

“Watch it!”

Ace practically threw himself down the stairs, jumping past four whole steps, using the banister to whip him around into the main hallway where he ran into the living room. Finally catching up to him, Ace positioned the coffee table between you two as he continued egging you on.

“Ayeeeeeee, embarrassed Prefect? Gonna throw a fit?” Ace let out a low cackle as you both shifted around the table.

“Gonna throw your ass into the fucking sun, little bitch ass! You got something to say then fucking say it!”

Ace snorted as he pointed behind you. “You’re one to talk, you wanna talk about the marigolds coming from behind you? It’s like you’re growing a garden out of your ass, wanna talk about that?”

“The fuck? I haven't been growing marigolds out of my ass. The hell you’re talking about,” You turned your head to look behind you, still growling at him now with confusion. “Why would you even ask that—WHAT THE FUCK!?”

You hissed as you jumped backwards into the table, the edges jamming into your skin. Behind you had been a long trail of beautiful, shimmering orange flowers. Upon closer inspection, you were pretty sure they were marigolds.

“...Ace, this is your fault.”

“What! Nuh-uh, I’m not the only with flower sickness—”

“The fuck is flower sickness?”

“You know, hanahaki? The love disease? How do you not know what flower sickness is, it’s like basic 8th grade bio—”

“I didn’t go to school here, dumbass!”

Ace’s mouth formed an ‘oh’ shape as he remembered. “Oooooh yeah, I forgot.”

“Forgot what? You little potatoes are acting awfully rowdy so early in the morning.”

You looked up to see Vil standing in the hallway, a bemused Rook behind him inspecting the flowers on the ground. Vil briefly made eye contact with you, both of your sharing a small smile before an irritating, itchy feeling made its way in your throat.

You felt a hand pack your back as you started roughly coughing up several bunches of marigolds into your hands as Ace grimaced.

“I forgot that they’re not from here, so they got no clue about hanahaki…or any other illness…huh it’s kinda a miracle they haven’t gotten sick from something else yet.” Ace hummed, as he leaned down to look at your face.

You made eye contact with your peripheral vision, motioning Ace to lean closer into you and horasely whispered, “Come… closer…”

Confused, Ace obliged, ear up to your lips, giving you the perfect opportunity to sock him straight in the gut. Your dear, beloved friend gagged from the pressure, hands cradling his stomach as he fell to his knees, groaning in pain.

“Y/N…” Vil sighed in exasperation, walking over to give you a gentle flick in your forehead as he chastised you.

“It’s unbecoming of a friend of mine to be so belligerent, do you really have to be so crass with all your friends?”

You clicked your tongue, licking the spit from your lips. “I’m not with you, besides Ace deserves it, you know how he is.”

“Mm-hmm, and how long have you been coughing out the flowers, meine Süße?”

A pleasant warmth flooded your cheeks at the nickname. You choose to ignore the tickling sensation of marigolds growing from the tops of your head, which instead formed into sneezing fits.

“I've heard of wearing your heart on your sleeve, but wearing petals in your hair is a whole new level of fashion statement.” He remarked, leaning down to observe the blooms. “Now, answer my question, meine Süße.”

“Achooo! Ugh,” You sniffled as you replied, “Um, not that long—achoo!—ago, ugh. Just today—”

“Ah! The little trickster started expelling the belles fleurs approximately a month and a half ago!” Rook chirped, a little too happily for your tastes. “Two weeks after we began training for the SDC.”

Vil let out another sigh as you whipped your head to glare at Rook, hissing out, “What. The. Fuck.”

“Excuse me?! Language Y/N!” Vil barked at you, making you flinch and burst into another coughing fit. Noticing this, he softened his voice, though the blonde still sounded angry.

“That’s nearly two months with the flower sickness, have you been taking potions to help with the symptoms?”

You shook your head, clearing your throat. “Ahem, no, uh. I didn’t know that there was medicine for this kinda thing, haaaaa I just figured I was being pranked by someone.”

You heard a snort behind you as Ace stood back up, grumbling, “Of course you would, dumbass.”

“I will actually kill you—”

“You will actually not.” Vil placed a gentle hand on your upper back, guiding you to the front door. “Rook, ensure everyone packs up and cleans their mess by the time we get back, I believe Kalim may still need help packing up.”

“Oui! How kind of you Vil to escort our lovely Trickster to get them a remedy for their affliction!”

Rolling your eyes, you let Vil guide you out of the dorm, calling out to Ace, “Don’t forget to grab the rest of your stuff, it’s still in my room!”

“Okayyy!”

With that, the door shut behind you two as you began a pleasant walk over to what you assumed would be Sam’s shop. A pregnant silence fell over you two as you walked down the pathway leading to main street, having to maneuver past the alchemy building and botanical gardens. You were hyper conscious about his hand that remained on your back, which is when you started another coughing fit.

“Oh you poor dear, did you really have no clue what was going on all this time?” Vil spoke to you in that soft tone that he’d been reserving for you since you first became friends, a few months ago. You’d gone into the Film Research Club interested in working as a stagehand, plus you had a good working knowledge costume design and general clothes repair, which was sorely needed.

It’d been an incredibly rocky acquaintanceship at first, as Vil made subtle, snide remarks on your disheveled appearance, while you shot back with loud, brass comments on his ‘Regina George wannabe’ act. Now, he didn’t know who Regina George was back then, but took offense that a ‘dirty, lumpy potato would have the audacity to insult him’.

He only kept you on in the club because no one ever willingly signed up for backstage work, and you only requested free access to spare cloth and sewing materials to fix your clothes. Vil was also more than happy to point out how scruffy the patches all over your uniforms made you look:

“You certainly fix the part of the ramshackle Prefect, now don’t you?”

Though, looking back on it now, you’re pretty sure he wasn’t aware that everything of yours was either found in Ramshackle’s attic or bought with the meager allowance Crowley gave you. Shortly before finals, Vil found you crying in an isolated part of backstage because another first-year permanently bleached your only jacket during a botched potions class.

“What’s going on back here, practice your scenes upfront with the rest of us, I don’t care how ugly you look crying—Prefect?”

You jumped, scrambling to get back up from the dusty corner you’d shoved yourself into. You awkwardly wiped the tears from your face, wrapping your arms around yourself as you gave Vil a feeble glare.

“What do you want Vil, I already told the others that their costumes wouldn’t be ready yet, if you want me to get stuff done, you gotta stop annoying me—”

“You’ve been crying.” His simple statement shut you up, as he approached you with a firm look on his face.

“…Yeah, stating the obvious much?” you muttered back, finding the scuff marks on the ground very interesting. Vil let out a sigh, reaching into his jacket to take out an off-white, embroidered handkerchief.

“I’m trying to be sympathetic. Ugh, you’re all red and puffy, let me see.” Vil tipped your chin up with his fingertips, gently patting at the tear streaks on your cheeks. “You look worse than normal…is the red bleach stain on your uniform meant to be a fashion statement?”

Pausing at the stuttering breath you took, sniffling, you answered, “No, some dumba—”

“Language”

“—Some jerk,” you drawled, “from my last class messed up his potion, and it got all over me. Stained my only jacket, right when it starts snowing, too.”

Vil raised a brow at you, leaning back once he was satisfied with your dried cheek.

“Only one? Even Ruggie has a few spare uniform jackets from Leona, did you seriously not think ahead to purchase a spare?”

You half-laughed, half-scoffed at his statement.

“You think Crowley gives me enough money to buy another jacket for his bougie ass—I mean, fancy, school? I barely have enough to feed myself and Grim between the roof caving in and the water pipes breaking. The bathroom flooded again last week.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you felt a migraine coming in, unaware of Vil’s growing horror.

“I was lucky enough to find my uniform in the attic, it waaay too big and makes me look homeless, but at least it keeps me warm…now it just looks even more like shit.”

You finally looked up at the blonde, expecting him to lecture you on your foul language. Instead, you were surprised to see Vil’s horrified expression.

“What do you mean, you barely have enough for food?”

It was then that you discovered that no one outside your group of friends were really aware that you were stuck on campus, victim to Crowley’s whims and needs. You know the others in Heartslabyul were faintly aware of your predicament, being from another world and stuck until Crowley found you a way home. Ace and Deuce did their best to help repair things around the dorm, but could only do so much. Savanaclaw and Octavinelle knew of the disarray of your dorm, but based on comments from Leona and Floyd, weren’t aware of just how much you were struggling just to eat and sleep.

Ruggie definitely was, seeing as he occasionally slipped you a spare meat bun or snack that he happened to buy extra of when running errands for Leona. Ruggie was a real one, as long as you didn’t point it out.

Since that day, Vil had sort of taken you under his wing, along with Epel who you hadn’t met yet at the time. You had to give him credit, he wasn’t the villain you’d made him out to be in your head. And Vil admitted, he enjoyed that you were quick on your feet and enjoyed your banter, as long as it was unique to him.

He spared you his previous uniforms that he’d grown out of his freshman and sophomore year, minus the band and vest, watching as you mended the waist and ends to fix your stature. More often than not, especially after hearing that you’d be stuck by yourself during winter break, Vil was sending you care packages with personal hygiene products from brand deals he never took. He’d send fabrics and sewing supplies with sewing patterns. Vil even started buying you breakfast and lunch once back to school, though you refrained from joining him for dinner in Pomefiore.

In exchange, you managed to replicate, with his help, some of the scripts for the more famous musicals from your world. You even told him who Regina George was! He still wasn't fond of the comparison, but did find the musical intriguing. Vil was fascinated by the works of art your world produced, and just slightly enamored in the way you described them with glee and fondness. Still, the exchanges still felt a bit uneven.

You’d once made the joke that he was practically a sugar daddy, just without the sugar. He snapped back, “Well, I’m not stopping you, now am I? I’ve never had a sweet tooth, but you’re more than welcome to give me thanks, meine Süße.”

(You spent that night screaming into your pillow with a red-hot blush while Grim looked on with concern.)

Truly, you two had developed an unlikely friendship, one where you both spoke your minds to the other with no hesitation or fear. Which is why the lack of conversation at the moment was slowly driving you insane.

You sneaked a peek at Vil, taking a sharp breath as your eyes met his own. It seemed that he was watching you with his very lovely, sharp purple eyes. The thought sent a hot flash through you as you sneezed a flurry of petals and pollen.

“Ooof, ugh, this is gonna make my allergies go haywire.”

“Sam will have some potions that will help with the symptoms, though you will have to confront the root of the cause.” Vil slid his hand down to rest in your mid-back, rubbing his thumb against you in a soothing motion, though it cause you to shiver and flush.

“Yeah, okay.” you managed to squeak out, groaning as you felt the tickle of glowing marigolds pop up on your skin and in your hair. “Ummmm, so how do you get rid of, uh, Ace called it hanahaki?”

Vil nodded and opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by the faint screaming of your name. Both of you looked down the path, where you saw Deuce running over to you two, followed by a confused Epel chasing after him.

“PREFECT! PREFECTPREFECTPREFECTPREFECT—”

Yelping as Deuce skidded to a half and grabbed you by your arms, shaking you with intense concern, you managed to reply a stuttered, “W-w-what?”

Deuce paused his shaking to give you a concerned lecture, “You didn’t tell us you had the flower sickness!? Why didn’t you say something, you’ve been running around for SDC all this time—”

“You too—”

“But I’m not sick!” Deuce dug through the paperbag you’d just notice he was holding and shoved a pale pink potion in your hands. “Here! Take this!”

Before you could even touch the bottle, Vil plucked it from a confused Deuce’s hands, studying it with scrutiny.

“Hmm…This is an average allergy relief potion for hay fever, did you actually ask Sam for a hanahaki symptom relief potion, or did you just grab the first thing you saw off the shelf?”

Deuce visibly deflated, opening his mouth to sheepishly reply before Epel interrupted him with a harsh, “I told him to ask, but he got all riled up and started yammerin’—I mean, uh, talking about getting the Prefect help immediately.”

Vil sighed, handing Deuce the potion back and shooed the two away with a wave of his hand.

“Just go back, I’ll handle it, just make sure your messes are all cleaned up before we get back.”

The two replied, “Yes sir!” and continued on their path, waving goodbye to you. Though you could hear Epel mumble to Deuce, “Those are marigolds, right? I think Vil’s favorite flowers are those, you don’t think…”

You slowed down to ponder Epel’s words, remembering what Ace initially called the illness.

“Vil…Ace called it a love sickness…would these flowers related toooo, I don’t know, a hypothetical crush somehow?”

Vil briefly opened his mouth, closing it as he hesitated to speak. You think you could make out a soft blush on his cheeks.

“Yes. Your hypothetical crush must favor marigolds. Can’t say I blame him, I’m fond of them myself…”

The two of you made eye contact, a knowing look in his eye and tone making your heart skip a beat and you look down in embarrassment.

“Oh…I see…” You coughed awkwardly, a few petals flying from your mouth. “So you said there was a way to get to the root cause?”

Vil hummed, stopping at the entrance of Sam’s shop to turn to you with an unreadable expression.

“Yes, as an illness based on love, appropriately the cure is to confess your feelings to the one you’ve found yourself fancying.”

A cold flash went through your body as your stomach dropped. Again. “Oh.” The thought of confessing to Vil made you sick, like you could puke at a drop of a coin at any moment.

“I wish you’d mentioned something sooner, I could’ve helped you…ease into it.” Vil murmured, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. He squished your cheek with a fond look in his eye.

“I know it’s a daunting task…I won’t rush you into it.” Vil moved his hand to brush your hair away, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “When you’re ready to say something, just let me know.”

Leaning back, VIl covered his mouth to hide his amused smirk. Your face was a blazing red as the marigolds grew a trail down your neck and chest. He motioned for you to follow him into the shop, holding the door open as he held a hand out to you. At the moment, you’re having a hard time imagining why he’d only ever been typecast in villain roles, he looked more like an enchanting love interest catered for you specifically.

“For now, I’ll be by your side. I will wait for you, meine Süße.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil shoenheit #twst vil #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #a floral inconvenience #nnbrk

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srbachchan · 7 months

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DAY 5745

Jalsa, Mumbai Nov 9/10, 2023 Thu/Fri 10:52 AM

My love and greetings to all .. 9th was the first day of the celebration of Diwali .. and in all Marathi homes they present 'farala' as in Marathi they say दिवाळी फराळ ..

It is a gifting of lights and diyas, and special eats made in homes .. and the culture and tradition persists and is celebrated in all homes ..

I went to one last night to my dear friends' homes .. Aie, or Ma as they say in Marathi .. welcomes me with the traditional 'tika' on the forehead, rice blessings on the forehead and head, and a 'diya aarti' ..

A blessing, to be given the respect and dignity and love from them all - the elders .. the elders ever bless us all and we live and prosper on their guidance and care and teachings .. EVER !

'Charan Sparsh' चरण स्पर्श .. we touch your feet and seek blessings .. 👣 👣

and in these auspicious settings we live another day .. and another day at work .. for work is the essence of life .. and the love from the 'janta' the eternal blessing ..

may there ever be the run in our lives as well ..

.. and the expressions of wonder and gratitude for all the attention of the audience .. for they are the ones that make the DAY ..

I posted some more images and a warning came titled 'DANG' .. only 30 images allowed to be posted .. so I stop .. but try stopping me from posting them on another post DAY at (i) ..

My love and care to all ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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choicesnovchallenge · 8 months

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This month, I encourage you to create any fanworks of your choice inspired by November holidays, fun facts and even create a birthday gift to the members of the fandom born in November. You can choose the prompt you vibe the most, pair up two or more prompts, combining them with prompts from Choices fandom events and other general prompt lists.

Holidays and Events

National Adoption Month

National Native American Heritage Month

No Shave November

Transgender Awareness Month

01. All Saints' Day / World Vegan Day / National Authors Day

02. Dia de Los Muertos

03. Sandwich Day / Cliché Day

04. Book Lovers Day

05. Bonfire/Fireworks Night / Destiel day (I'm sorry but there's no way I wouldn't include this iconic Tumblr holiday 😅)

08. Cook Something Bold Day

09. World Freedom Day

10. Forget Me Not Day

11. Singles Day

12. Diwali / Chicken Soup For The Soul Day

13. Ides of November (Festival Of Jupiter) / World Kindness Day

16. World Philosophy Day

17. Take A Hike Day

18. National Princess Day

20. Black Awareness Day

22. Music/Musicians Day / Go For A Ride Day

23. Thanksgiving / National Expresso Day

24. Black Friday / Buy Nothing Day

25. International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women

26. National Cake Day

28. French Toast Day

29. Lemon Cream Pie Day

Astronomical events

03. Jupiter at opposition - best day to see Jupiter and its moons (using a telescope)

13. Uranus at opposition - best day to see Uranus (using a telescope)

17-18. Leonids Meteor Shower (visible to the naked eye)

Facts

Birthstones: Topaz and Citrine

Flower: Chrysanthemum

Fruits: Apple, cranberry

Zodiac signs: Scorpio (until 21st) / Sagittarius (starting in Nov 22nd)

Birthday babes

04. whenyourheartskipsabeat

06. deb-1106

11. twinkle-320

16. jamespotterthefirst

17. peonyblossom

29. iaminlovewithtrr

29. katedrakeohd

30. kingliam2019

[gift suggestions]

#playchoices #play choices #choices game #choicesmonthlychallenge #choices fanfic #choices fanart #choices edits #choices moodboards #choicesnovember2023

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ramcharantitties · 7 months

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Diwali

Summary: First Diwali of you and ram.

"Why are you still in your clothes?" A voice boomed from the door, and by the tone, it was a very angry wife of mine. Although I wanted to cross question her, "why don't you take them off?", I knew better and did not utter a word. Maybe we'll do that later tonight anyways. I jumped off the chair in a second and scurried to the bathroom, towel in hand. It's Diwali today. From four in the morning, we have set the fairy lights, spotting dragon flies, then packed the sweets y/n made in the past two days, deep cleaned our house, went to market for last moment shopping, and decorated our house with diya and rangoli. The amount of tea cups lining the sink said enough about our hardwork today. It was around 4 in the evening now, and y/n needed me to get bathed soon so I can go to the temple for an early Pooja, as she sets up the Pooja at our home.

The bath was shivering and cold- November not letting us breath with warmth. Stepping out of the bath, a red kurta and white dhoti with a red lining on it caught my eye. Someone did Diwali shopping for me. And it's shy to say, but the warmth she gives deter a hundred Novembers.

Quickly getting ready, I combed my hair. The red on my cheeks matched one of my clothes, and it was visible in the mirror, hope my wife doesn't catch it. It was almost 4:30, and I knew that if I don't leave now, it's going to be a screaming match. Finding y/n, I saw her in her homely saree with wet hair tied in a towel lock, carrying everything needed to the Pooja in our home. "Get ready first, I'll help you with this when I come back".

She turned around to my voice, the golden skin from sandalwood shining with the golden mangalsutra in orange sunlight. A tint of pink on her cheeks too when she checked me out, up and down. I had to turn around and leave, so she didn't catch me blushing.

It was almost the muhrat of Pooja when I stepped in our home. The sun has started to set and the area was lit up by blinking fairy lights. Blasts of firecrackers were easily heard throughout. I saw our home with white and yellow alternate lights too. Upon entering, Y/n was nowhere to be found near the Pooja, but it was all set and decorated.

Looking for y/n, I realised that I haven't given her Diwali gift- a blue chiffon saree I picked out for her, and that it's our first Diwali together. I called out for her, as she made her way out from our room in a pink saree. Her hair was open and air drying. It was given to her by her family, and she has already worn this twice now.

"Why aren't you wearing anything new?" I led her into the room again opening the side of the cupboard which was reserved for my official clothes. "This is new" she muttered, putting Kohl lines in her eyes. I pulled out the transparent bag which held a beautiful blue saree, laced with white embroidery and deep red design. Her brown eyes caught the sight of it, a breath caught in her throat. She looked expectantly at me. A smile from me was enough for her to pull it from me and rush inside.

About 15 minutes later, y/n came out looking like an apsara. The baby blue insinuated her already pink face. She twirled around giggling. "Do I look good?" I nodded, leaning on the bed frame. It felt good, to see her happy. The childish joy in her eyes and soft smile on her lips. Gazing at her lovingly, it took me a while to realize she wasn't smiling anymore. "We are getting late for Pooja!"

The Pooja went well. We sat down after it, tired from running around the house all day. Busy eating home made sweets, I almost lost the soft touches of her on the saree, her fingertips barely touching the design. She looked content. And that was enough for me to remember how our first Diwali went.

......,...........................

tagging- @budugu @thewinchestergirl1208 @rambheemlove @ramayantika @bishh-kanya @chaanv @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @cursedcursives @hopelessdemonic @nerdreader @bitchy-bi-trash @vijayasena

#ghungru #ram charan #rrr #rrr movie #desi tag #ram x reader #fanfic #ram x wife!reader #rambheem #rrr tarak charan

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hum-suffer · 7 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck their notion of made up impurity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I love you.' He mouths to her.

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

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

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

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Realisation dawns on him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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An empty home is never fulfilling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She walks with the power of a Queen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dead.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill one, and the other will instantly be dead.

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

____________________________________________________

What do we think?????

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

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barbielore · 11 months

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I’m genuinely surprised to know that there are no officially released Mattel products for Barbie that reference Jewish religious or cultural customs. I genuinely would have thought that there would be at least one by now - at least as a part of a collectors series, if nothing else.

This comes as a particular surprise as the creator of Barbie, Ruth Handler, and Barbie’s namesake, Ruth’s daughter Barbara, were Jewish women. In fact, when Saudi Arabia commented on the ban on the sale of Barbie dolls, one of the reasons given for this is that Barbie was Jewish.

Most of the mass market Barbies produced around the December season tend to be marketed as secular “Holiday” Barbies rather than naming Christmas or any other religious celebration.

I think it’s fair to say a lot of these dolls appear Christmas-adjacent, using iconography associated with e.g. Santa, candy canes and Christmas trees.

And there are some that explicitly refer to Christmas or Easter, though typically with a lean to the less religious aspects of the holiday, like gift giving and egg collecting.

And there are Barbies that have been released themed around religious and/or cultural celebrations from around the world - just to name a few, there are Barbies to celebrate Kwanzaa, Diwali, and Dia de los Muertos.

So personally, I think Barbie is overdue for a Jewish culture Barbie - what do you think?

#barbie #Diwali barbie #festivals of the world #Diwali #Kwanzaa Kelly #Kwanzaa #dia de Los muertos barbie #dia de los muertos #Jewish barbie #Ruth handler #holiday barbie #easter style barbie #Christmas morning barbie

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its-opheliasgarden · 2 years

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Amanti del Tramonto | Happy ‘Diwali (Deepavali)’ Followers Gift

Amanti del Tramonto roughly translates to ‘Sunset Lovers’. This one-of-a-kind wedding venue features the best sunsets in all of Tartosa. Do not hesitate to book your Sims upcoming nuptials here, where they can dance the night away under a sky full of stars caressed by the salt water breeze of the ocean.

Lot Type: Wedding Venue Price: §33,048 (cc-free) / §34,261 (cc-lite) Size: 40x20 Location: Baia dell'Amore Beach, Tartosa Packs Used: Island Living, Seasons, City Living, My Wedding Stories, Oasis Courtyard, Toddler Stuff, Romantic Garden, Holiday Play Tested: ❌

Notes: This lot was originally built by @harrie-cc for Maxis. I’ve fully redecorated it to serve all of your Indochine/Desi fusion wedding venue needs. Please enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game. I’ve provided two downloading options: cc-free (102 KB) and cc-lite (3 MB). The cc-free lot has no cc, but I use a lot of game overrides so the Gallery is still flagging it as modded. Thus, you may need to check show cc in the Gallery for it to show up in your Library.

DOWNLOAD (CC-FREE)

DOWNLOAD (CC-LITE)

@maxismatchccworld @emilyccfinds @mmfinds @pancakesrealty (Thank you for sharing!)

EDIT: This has been sitting in my drafts for WAY TOO LONG. Happy to share this finally in honor of Diwali/Deepavali! Funny enough my OG post for this wedding is now being reshared again, lol!

So everyone was so sweet in their comments about this wedding lot I redecorated for Liv and Deeps’ wedding on this main post. Nevertheless, I thought I’d share it with everyone as a gift for you to repurpose for you own Indochine and Desi weddings!

Also for anyone who is curious, the ‘altar’ I built is called the Mandap. It serves as the altar for most Indian weddings. It includes the ‘royal chairs’ for the wedding couple, the side chairs for parents and a pedestal for the religious ceremony.

Enjoy and please tag me if you ever use it in your gameplay/stories, etc.! I’d love to see it in your game!

- d.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 wedding stories #ts4 mm #ts4 maxis match #ts4 wedding venue #ts4 community lot #ts4 builds #ts4 lots #its-opheliasgarden #iog download

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frostironfudge · 2 years

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You Bring Light Into My Life - Andy Barber

Summary: You’re feeling homesick during your favourite holiday from back home, Andy Barber steps in re-lighting the spark.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Desi!Fem!Reader

Warnings: none fluff all the way, andy being a cute lil baby, mutual pining, celebrating diwali, past in italics.

A.N: this is for @elle14-blog1 it’s her diwali gift, plus i’m a sucker for stories of people from different cultures falling in love and celebrating each other’s traditions and making their own, happy diwali to those celebrating!

Word Count: 1.2k

Main Masterlist || AO3

There was something about the festival of lights that enamoured you. The way the fireworks reflected off of the buildings colouring them for once beyond their muted beiges and greys.

You look around the quite neighbourhood from your window, Boston didn’t glow as bright on Diwali as your home country. It was approaching dusk and most apartments had led lights but not just to celebrate the festival.

You look down at the diyas then at the clock, almost time to light them up. You place the lit diyas along the window pane careful to have the flame not touch the walls or the glass.

Gathering the flowers and the electric diyas on a tray you open your front door just as your neighbour opens his own.

“Hey.” He greets, blue eyes moving over your traditional outfit to the tray.

“Diwali correct?” Andy smiles when your eyes widen at him not butchering the pronunciation.

“Yes,” you kneel to place the flowers and the diyas.

“Happy Diwali.” He greets, you smile up at him.

“Happy Diwali.” You greet back, Andy should go, he should because staring at your neighbour for this long seems wrong.

You don’t mind it though, letting him watch you set up the diyas and press the button. The light sputters then goes out. You pout, picking it up has one flower roll away.

Andy bends down his laptop bag casted to the side with his coat. He grabs the flower, then shifts closer to you placing it back to the original place.

“Probably a battery issue?” He murmurs as you sigh frustrated.

“I think the person sold me dummy pieces, these are new batteries.” You explain, setting the device back down.

“Could I take a look?” He holds his hand out, he hasn’t gotten many chances to speak with you.

You both do have a weekly run in in the elevator when you’re just getting done with your twenty four hour shift and he’s returning from his firm and once or twice a month he’d borrow coffee from you for his machine.

You’ve never requested anything from him apart from one time that your lock broke just as you both were making your way from the elevators discussing about the landlord having three dogs but allowing no one else to keep pets.

Andy despite being tired ran to the store and brought back a new lock and a deadbolt. Saved the invoices typed up the application to the landlord to reimburse you and update all the locks in the building.

He even offered to sleep on the couch incase you feel ill at ease. You always thought Andy is handsome but that small offer of caring and being protective it sent your crush into a full blown spiral.

Andy blinks as he removes the battery, thinking over the several chances he has had to speak to you. Maybe even flirt a little, but he never made a move. He wants to so badly.

“Ah okay, the wiring inside is unattached.” He declares seeing the wires half off of the circuitry.

“Great.” You murmur, disappointment lacing your tone.

“I’m sorry.” Andy still holds the diya, your expression tugging at his heart strings.

“No, I, I’m just very homesick and I used to do this back home, decorate with flowers and diyas at the front door. Stupid thing won’t work and I can’t keep flames unattended.” Your eyes fall to his things, “I’m sorry I should let you go—,”

“No, you aren’t taking up my time, the meeting can wait. Is there something I can do to help?” His hand reaches for your forearm, fingers gently wrapping around, warmth seeping to your skin.

Andy can’t see you upset, he knows longing intimately, he knows it’s a part of homesickness.

You chuckle humourlessly, “Andy I’m pretty sure you can’t bring the non bursting fireworks here or have the streets decorated in lanterns and lights, or get this damn diya to work.” You let the diya be there unlit.

He looks into your home at the diyas lighting your window.

“You should get on with your evening, I’ve anyways got to video chat my parents, I’ll see you sometime yeah? Thank you so much for helping.” You quickly ramble, he stands with you.

You reach up, kissing his cheek murmuring another rushed but sincere apology. Your door closes and Andy stands with the diya in his hand and a light bulb going off in his head.

The Diya flickers on and he smiles at probably the good omen.

“Yeah it will work to make her smile.” He says to himself.

Its three to four hours later with your dinner in the microwave rotating even slower than usual that there is a knock on the door.

You frown, going over and looking through the peephole. Andy stands there hands behind his back. Swiftly you open the door.

“Hey.” He greets with a beaming smile that never fails to make you smile.

“Hi Andy.” You chuckle then blink and look down, every few feet are flame diyas till the elevators.

“That is a fire hazard— Andy?” You look up at him and his grin just gets more wider with pink tinged.

“You said you wanted diwali, now I couldn’t exactly bring in fireworks but I found the sparklers and,” he rummages in his pocket.

He brings out the electric diya, all lit up and working properly.

Your eyes begin to brim with tears, leaving the door you wrap your arms around him, “Oh Andy, I don't have the words, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Andy smiles, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. Before he can stop himself he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your arms tighten around his frame, his scent comforting you. The gesture making your heart flutter.

“Wanna meet me downstairs to light the sparklers?” He questions, unwilling to let you go.

“It’s a date.” You look up at him, Andy’s beaming smile lights up your heart as he cups your cheek.

--—-—-—--

two years later.

“Princess?” Andy calls out from near the doorway of the kitchen.

“Yes, baby?” You look up from the arrangement of the diyas you were making.

“Does this look right?” He holds up the dough of the confectionery, it starts sliding to the edge of the bowl.

“Um…” you purse your lips, he looked so hopeful, “its a little runny…” you chuckle when he pouts, standing up to meet him in the kitchen.

“We’re out of flour to counter it…” He sighs but then laughs at your bewildered expression.

“I don’t even want to know how you managed to do that Andrew.” You take the bowl from his hands, trying to inspect what went wrong.

“We’ll just ask mum on the call.” You deem.

“That is the best idea,” he glances outside a smile on his features.

“Its time Princess.” He grabs your hand and leads you to the main door of the house you both now share.

You grab the floral arrangement, from the tray. You admire his excitement, loving him even more for sharing and wanting to participate in your traditions.

Both of you kneel, lighting the one real flame diya together with the electric lighter. Andy then pulls out the very same electric diya from two years ago, he holds it as you press the button the bulb flickers on strongly.

“Happy Diwali, Princess.” He kisses your forehead, both of you placing the diya down.

“Happy Diwali, baby.” You cup his cheeks, pulling him into a kiss.

Completing your tradition with him.

-x-

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