#bottle gourd for grey hair

[kikiutau]

ZENIN NAOYA & ZENIN NAOBITO: Fucking in Sin

Zenin Naoya x reader x Zenin Naobito Content/TW: fem!reader, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, double penetration, threesome, anal, lowkey incest, degradation, dumbification, humiliation, spanking, misogyny, zenin naoya, age gap (reader is in her 20s), breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, cockwarming, cum swallowing, alcohol use Author’s Note: uhhhh… enjoy? Or not. More crack smut if anything. For the ones who are into old man dick. I want to support and encourage all the kinks my customers may have ^^ Divider by @/cafekitsune

The Zenin clan embodied the worst of Jujutsu society. When your previous owners sold you off to the Zenin clan, there were mixed whispers of pity and snobbery. It wasn’t as if you weren’t good enough at your job; Your masters simply could no longer afford as many maids as they used to. You were simply one of the unfortunate ones. Rumor has it that the young master stole money from the family treasury to spend it on alcohol, gambling, and the pretty little whore whom he met at a bar. You’d think that being sold off to the Zenin clan as a woman might be the same as living in hell. But a part of you found it perplexing because Zenin Naobito made you feel… So. Fucking. Good. With him, you felt like you belonged in heaven with every dirty sin the two of you committed on every surface of the Zenin house.

In spite of his grey hairs and prominent wrinkles on his face, he had the stamina of a horny teenager. “Oh fuck—” Your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped, letting out a wanton moan.

The corner of his lips quipped up. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired. Keep bouncing on my cock like the good slut you are.” To encourage you—or was it to tease you—he thrusted his hips up, hitting your sweet spot. Another unabashed moan left your lips as you grinded even harder on his cock. Oh god, he felt absolutely euphoric. None of the men your age can make you feel as good. Instead, you decided to turn to the man whose age matched your grandfather’s. But as they say, with age comes experience. And you guessed that being a jujutsu sorcerer allowed his vitality to remain when it comes to sex. You stuck your tongue out, motioning for a kiss. In response, he spanked you, not giving into your demands. You gasped as your pussy involuntarily pulsed on his length. “You think I’d kiss a whore like you?” he scoffed, reaching for the alcohol bottle arms length away. He poured the sake into his mouth, drinking it as if he was a man suffering from thirst.

Your lips jutted out into a slight pout as you watched him drink from the gourd. A part of you wished you were the alcohol that passed his lips and down his throat. Another part of you wished he’d grip your throat the same way he gripped the neck of the bottle. Your eyes started to water as you watched your lover indulge himself in something that’s not your body. You let out a whimper, catching his attention.

He seemed to have caught on to your neediness, a smirk decorating his face. Looking directly into your eyes, Naobito poured the liquid into his mouth before leaning in. You took that as a sign and locked your lips with his, tasting the strong blends of sweetness and acidity. As the alcohol runs down your throat, you feel his tongue entwining with yours. Feeling lightheaded, you wondered if that was the effect of the sake or if you were simply just drunk from the orgasms your lover gifted you earlier. Whatever it was, you craved for more of it. Licking your lips, you looked up, your eyes meeting Naobito’s once more. Before you could say anything, your ass was met with a harsh spank. “What do you say, you whore?”

“Thank you, master~” Your lips curved upwards. Feeling playful, you leaned in, giving a slight peck on his lips. Before you could move away, his hand held the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His other hand, held onto one of your ass cheeks, moving you on his cock, helping you ride him properly. You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, feeling so full of him.

“Look at you— my sweet little cockwarmer always needing to be filled up. Should I fuck my cum into you, huh? Should I make you bear a Zenin heir?” He pulled out, pushing you onto your back. He watched as your cunt clenched again and again, as if it were trying to find the cock it was squeezing on earlier. Making his way up, he watched your clit: swollen and red. Feeling a tad bit generous today, he gave it the attention it needed, circling the poor neglected thing with his thumb.

You writhed in response, pleads escaping your mouth. “Oh god! Please please please! Please make me a mommy!” you begged. “I’ll be so good. Please give me your cum.”

“Pathetic,” he remarks. He slapped your clit, causing you to gasp in both pain and pleasure. Before he could continue, a third voice rang through the room.

Shit.

Naobito glanced up, noticing the tall young man who happened to walk into them. The man being none other than Zenin Naoya, Naobito’s son and the heir to the Zenin clan. Naoya’s face morphed into one of disgust at seeing his father in the middle of fornicating with one of the maids. To be honest, Naoya didn’t even know that his father’s dick still worked. For all he knew, he thought that Naobito Jr. stayed limp and dry like a wet French fry after inseminating his mother with an heir. He shivered, mentally erasing that thought from his mind.

Naoya then glanced towards you. You were a pretty little thing. You were something he’d fuck if he needed to relieve himself. But you were far from marriage material. You were a peasant. You were already deflowered. You were a nothing more than a fuck toy. He watched your eyes glaze with pleasure. So much pleasure, in fact, you have yet to notice his presence in the room. “You either leave or join. Don’t stand there like an idiot,” Naobito chimed in, slightly annoyed at his son.

To Naoya, it sounded like an invitation. Noticing the prominent bulge in his pants, Naoya rolled his eyes. “Move over, fucking old man.” He impatiently walked towards you, jerking your face toward his erection. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” Facing directly towards his clothed crotch, you reach towards it. You were interrupted with a slap on your wrists. Confused, you glanced up back at him.

“Use your mouth.”

Fuck. Why did you feel yourself getting wetter? Is it even possible to be any wetter than you already are? You glanced back towards Naobito who was slowly jerking his cock with a smirk on his face. Well, he seems to get off to the predicament you were in. Not that you were complaining— nothing turned you on more than pleasing Naobito. You looked back at the young Zenin heir. His face bore an expression of boredom, eyes filled with arrogance. Being a good girl you are, you obliged to his order. Biting the waistband of his pants, you slowly pulled it down til his manhood was freed. Hm… no underwear? How convenient (and a part of you wondered if he really stumbled in by accident).

Size wise, they were about the same which made sense since the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. However, compared to the elder Zenin’s, Naoya’s cock was prettier. His cock was flushed in a lighter pink, pubes trimmed. Looking at his length, your mouth watered. Your thoughts begin to wander as you begin to fantasize how he’d feel in your pussy. Naoya, who seemed to notice your dazed reaction, scoffed. His lips curved upward in satisfaction as if he won some sort of contest. His eyes however, reflected his impatience. Taking notice, you quickly enveloped his cock in your mouth. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your head, shoving the rest of his length into your mouth. A choked sound erupted from your throat, your eyes watering. He used your mouth like a fleshlight, choked sounds and gutteral groans emerging from the two of you. “God, no wonder my father kept you around,” he grunted. He began to thrust into your mouth as he bombarded you with insults like a broken record player. “F-fuck- you were born to be a slutty bimbo. Was my father’s cock not enough to satisfy you? Your greedy pussy wanted more Zenin cock? Tell me, how many more clan members did you offer your slutty cunt to?”

“…Mmhmhmhmh~"

Unable to talk with your mouth filled, only muffled sounds came out. Feeling Naoya’s cock touch your uvula every time he thrusted, your cunt dripped with anticipation and lust, your body liking the rough treatment. Before you could even gather your thoughts, Naoya buried your face into his pubes, releasing white ropes of his cum into your mouth. Salty, thick, hot and so goddamn good. And you found it slightly better than Naobito’s. Perhaps it was due to Naobito’s poor diet and alcoholic tendencies that you found yourself preferring the younger Zenin’s cum. Although, these words will never be spoken out loud. Huffing, Naoya forcefully lifted your chin up. “Open.” Obeying the young master, you displayed the cum decorating the insides of your mouth. He approvingly hummed, gathering the saliva in his mouth before spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow.”

You glanced back at the older Zenin, noticing remnants of his cum on the tatami mats and his robe. The sight seemingly makes you lose all reason (as if you had any in the first place). Unable to ignore the throbbing in your core, you went on all fours, displaying your dripping pussy towards the two Zenins. Wiggling your ass in front of them, you pleaded. “P-please! I need the both of you! J-just touch me!” To prove your point, you spread apart your pussy lips, showing your throbbing clit and clenching holes. “Mmhh~”

Naobito and Naoya's eyes met. Their eyes seem to darken in lust and something akin to wickedness. The father and son pair never seemed to agree on anything until now. But seeing their compliant whore displaying her needy little pussy, made them agree on one thing; they made an unspoken vow to destroy whatever pride left you have. But then again, your pride was long gone the moment you decided to be Naobito’s loyal cockwarmer.

Naoya grabbed one of your ass cheeks before proceeding to spank it. You bite your lips, muffling the moan that arose from your throat. “Look at you,” he yanked your hair, pulling your body towards his chest. He leaned into your ear rasping, “Don’t you feel ashamed? Don’t you have any self respect?”

Before you could answer, Naobito interjected. “Well what do you expect from a lowly little thing? The only thing on her cock drunk mind is getting fucked.” He brushed a piece of hair to the back of your hair. “Isn’t that right sweetheart?” he murmured. You nodded, not trusting your own voice. Fuck, he was so right. You were nothing more than a cock sleeve for the Zenin family. From the moment you had a taste of the pleasures the Zenin family could give you, you have wholeheartedly dedicated your life’s purpose to be an obedient slave to them.

“You’ve been fucked in the ass?” Naoya asked, more so a statement rather than an actual question. With how slutty you acted, he was pretty sure you were already used in both the ass and pussy. Such a shame. To him, you were a girl who whored herself out to men twice—even triple— your age. A pretty little thing like you is sure a good fuck. But in terms of marriage, you had absolutely no value. Your only worth came from your tight cunt and your ability to procreate. By the time you lose your youth and get all dried up, Naoya was sure his father was going to replace you with another young, innocent, virgin plaything. It was only a matter of time.

He circled the ring of your ass, before sinking a finger in as a means to tease you. “O-oh!” Surprised by the intrusion, you squirmed within his arms. “Y-young master! Please—“ You didn’t know what you were begging for exactly. But your cockdrunk mind knew one thing: you wanted more. Seeing the sight of his slut at the mercy of his son, Naobito let out a chuckle. Bending down, Naobito blew onto your sensitive clit.

“Haah… uugh… a-ahh!”

“Now then,” Naobito lazily drawled. “Let’s inspect your pretty cunt.” He pulled apart your pussy lips, pretending to give it slight inspection. Dipping his tongue into your hole, he slurped your juices as if you were his beloved rice wine. Feeling him drag his tongue against your aching walls, made your toes curl. The younger Zenin, moved his attention towards your breasts, kneading it, slapping it, pulling it. Using his fingers, he teasingly pulled on your nipples. Being pleasured by the two Zenin, gave you more than enough stimulation to get close to climaxing.

Naoya, noticing your body tensing, continued to assault your boobs. “Oh? Cumming so soon? Don’t tell me you’re actually getting off to the old fucker,” he laughed. “Feeling good?”

“Mmmmm. Feels so so so good,” you babbled, drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

“Ha! What a dirty bitch!” Naoya exclaimed, collecting the drool to use as lube for your asshole. Just as you were about to cum, Naobito pulled away, leaving you all dazed and confused.

“W-why?” you whined, squirming, tears about to spill over. “Let me cum!”

Unimpressed by your attitude, Naobito slapped your cunt. “Behave.”

Naoya playfully tsked at you, condemning you for your poor choice of words. Without a warning, Naoya lifted your body up as he started to bullied his cock into your tight ass.

“FUCK!” You cursed, causing Naobito to once again reprimand you by slapping your over-abused pussy.

“M’ gonna ruin this tight ass of yours.” Naoya grinned, his eyes reflecting his joyous desire to ruin you. “I’m going to fucking teach you how to be an obedient little slut.” You yelped, grabbing whatever you could get a hold of. In this case, it was Naoya. He kept fucking you, chasing his high, not caring whether or not you reached yours. Feeling your ass tighten on his cock, he pulled out, preferring to finish himself off in his hands than let you have the relief you’ve been seeking for. You fell limp onto Naobito, as you moaned in pain of having your orgasm taken away from you once again. Naoya groaned as he jerked himself off, finishing on your back.

Naobito, finally running out of patience, gave you no reprieve as he rubbed the head of his cock on your pussy. You screeched as you felt him enter. He chuckled at the way you desperately tried to grab onto his robe as a futile attempt to deal with your pleasure. You panted as he began to move his hips. Distracted by Naobito’s cock thrusting into you with a deep force, you didn’t seem to realize that the younger Zenin was right behind you. He held his cock to your rear, stretching your hole once again with his girth.

With the surprise intrusion, you couldn’t help but reach your long needed climax, getting off to the pain and pleasure the Zenins’ provided. Your mouth opened as a silent gasp escapes you with your back arched, head resting back on Naoya’s shoulder.

“You like getting fucked in both holes, huh?” Naoya teased. Looking at the gourd nearby, Naoya grabbed it before pouring the rest of the alcohol contents onto your tongue. Most of it dripped down to the crevices of your breasts and down to where the three of you were connected. Naobito, too pussydrunk to even reprimand his son, bent down to slurp at the remaining sake on your breasts, before choosing to suck on one of your nipples in hopes it'll produce some kind of liquid.

You felt so stretched out, feeling very vein and bump of their cocks. Naobito let your sensitive nipple go with a pop. His eyes wandered to your face, noticing how fucked up you looked with your eyes rolled back and mouth open. God, you looked like an angel to him. The prettiest thing he has ever seen. “Fuck— you’re taking us so well,” he groaned

“Ye— OH! O-oh… Hnnghnn!” Unable to make a complete sentence, the best you could do was wantonly moan like a whore.

In. Out. In. Out. You didn’t know how much more you could take. “Too much, fuck fuck fuck! Nao—“ You cried as you came on their cocks again. Unfortunately for you, the two of them continued to rut into you like animals in the heat, their thick cocks rubbing against your walls.

After God knows how long, Naoya was the first one to finish. “Fuck,” he grunted, stilling his hips as he came into your ass. Being the menace he is, he reached towards your clit, rigorously rubbing it as if you didn’t come already.

“P-PLEASE! N-No more! I-it’s too m-much,” you cried, tears dripping down your face.

Naoya raised his eyebrow. “Oh? But weren’t you begging to come earlier? Please please please. Let me cum,” he mocked. You couldn’t answer since the only sounds you could produce were blubbering whimpers at this point. Naoya continued to play with your clit, much to your dismay. With the extra stimulation, your walls clenched. Naobito let out a deep groan as he felt your wet cunt throb against him. With a curse, he spilled his load inside of you, gifting you with the possibility of more Zenin heirs.

Seemingly done with entertaining himself, Naoya pulled out, watching his cum drip out of your ass all while his father was still plugged into your pussy. He pulled his pants back up, and before leaving, he gave you a quick spank on the ass. Sharing you with his father was less than ideal however, he assumed that it was a better-than-nothing type of situation. Luckily today, his father was in a good mood to share his whore with him. Otherwise, Naoya would’ve been kicked out and been severely reprimanded later on. If he finds you wandering in the estate by yourself another day, he is going to take you for himself next time. And there’s no need for his father to know of his plans.

With Naoya gone, the only thing that could be heard in the room is labored breathing. Naobito held you in his arms as the two of you tried to recover from the high. Feeling his limp cock slowly get hard again, you wiggled your ass, causing him to give you a light smack on your rear.

A light chuckle left you. “Again?”

Naobito smirked at you, a sly grin etching his face. Moving you into a mating press, he playfully thrusts into you.

“Let’s give Naoya a sibling.”

Author's Note: My first fic! Absolutely unhinged LMAO! Anyways, I'm open to asks and thirsts. Please send them my way ♡

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 18

Alright. I hope you're ready for Mihawk! Here is the next part, like promised!

BTW anything that's labeled with Lavender will be more of a Shanks pov! Thanks!

Warnings! None really? Kissing? Mihawk is a jelly boy.

Masterlist

Mihawk arrives at your island three weeks after Shanks has departed. He notices something off the moment he comes within sight of the white sands, observational haki sending shivers down his spine. An awful feeling curdles his stomach, and Dracule curses how slowly his ship reaches the shores of his home.

The warlord flashes to the island, leaving behind the books that he had brought along for your overstuffed bookshelves. Mihawk picks up his pace, arriving at your door far quicker than usual, and barges inside. He stalks through the house, frowning when he does not find you anywhere inside. What he does find however, is an ornate ceramic sake bottle in the shape of a gourd, that Dracule knows he did not gift to you, and it was in far too good of condition for you to have found it on the shore. The bad feeling in his stomach grows to the point that he feels sick, something that he has never felt before.

Mihawk stalks out the backdoor, shoulders slumping in relief when he spies you sitting at the cliffside in the back.

You turn around at his approach, the devil cat glaring at him and hopping off his human’s lap to strut past Mihawk and back inside the house to hide away. Hank greets him like usual, and Mihawk gladly slides his hands into the shaggy grey hair to ground himself. There is tension in the air, and he knows that you are about to say something he isn’t going to like before you can even open your mouth.

“Welcome home, Dracule,” You greet him and go to stand, but your warlord motions you to stay there. He comes and sits beside you on the cliff, thigh pressed against yours, and you easily lean into him, pressing a kiss to his bare chest, “How was your trip?”

Dracule hates all this lead up, but he has missed you terribly and curls his arms around your waist, and buries his face in your hair.

“Uneventful. Too long,” he grumbles quietly, and you snicker and reach up to pet his hair. Mihawk shifts enough that he can turn and bring you in for a sweet kiss. He takes his time, lips a gentle press against your own until he pulls away to kiss your brow, lingering there as you relax against his chest. Mihawk wonders if you can heart how loudly his heart is beating.

“I had visitors while you were away,” You begin and Dracule feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest, nerves eating at him in a way he's not experienced before, and he does not like it. Mihawk can't help the way his grip around you tightens, teeth clenched when he speaks next.

“I know. I could tell before I even made landfall.”

You nod, not minding the way he tightens his hold. You can tell that your admission has upset him because you know how careful the other man has been to keep you safe.

“It was one of the men you told me to be careful about. Red-Haired Shanks,” You finish, and your words are the final nail in the coffin. Mihawk sees nothing but red, furious that the bastard has found the one soft, good thing that Mihawk wanted to keep all to himself. Especially Shanks, the man was a womanizer through and through, and he hated the thought of you spending any time around him. You are speaking before Dracule can get a word in, and he forces himself to listen to your stuttered words.

“Shanks asked if he and his crew could stay on the island for a few days. I said yes, even though I was terrified, but you and Perona are always pushing me to try new things, so I thought that you wouldn't be that upset, but obviously that isn't true. And I'm really sorry, Mihawk,” you are rambling, but you can't help it. You've pulled away to look him in the face, wincing when you see the downturn of his lips and the fierce scowl between his eyes.

“They were all really nice, and he and his crew had so many interesting stories! I promise I didn't drink, I didn't feel comfortable with it because you weren't there, but they were funny and Shanks seemed so kind, so I told them that I wouldn't mind if they came back around.”

Mihawk goes through a lot of different emotions as he listens to you gush to him. It infuriates him that Shanks had wiggled his way so quickly into your good graces, but he felt pride in knowing that He, Dracule, was the first person you thought of when Shanks had shown up. However, he can't help but feel hurt at the knowledge that you invited the redhead back to your island. This was his home, and you knew that.

“I don't like the thought of that beach bum being here when I'm not around. I don't like that he stayed for a week and you didn't phone me at all. Shanks is nothing but a womanizing menace who plans to take you away from me,” Dracule snarls lowly and extracts himself from your grip. He needs to move before he does something he regrets, “I hate the thought of him even looking at you, _.”

Guilt crushes him when he catches sight of the hurt look on his own face when he turns to pace the cliff. He can't be angry at you, not when Dracule knows how kind and humble you are. There wasn't a deceptive bone in your body, and you were a terrible liar. He shouldn't be surprised that you allowed Shanks to stay so long.

Take you away? There was no one in this whole world that would be able to take you away from this gloomy, handsome man.

“I- I'm sorry, Mihawk. I just get so lonely when you and Perona don't come around, and it was so nice to have someone to talk to. It was exciting to have so many people around,” you say, throat thick with emotion and unshed tears. You hated this. Hated that Dracule was so upset that he couldn't even touch you right now.

“I tried to tell Shanks that I didn't think it would be a good idea to be friends with him, but he said that you wouldn't get too upset, and I believed him because he's known you so much longer than I have. I shouldn't have taken his word,” You are crying now, snow gathering around your sitting form and piling up around your legs.

“No you shouldn't have,” Mihawk snaps at you, and you flinch away from his anger. He deflates as soon as he sees the pile of snow that has gathered around you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and then goes to your side, sitting back beside his angel and pulling her close despite the snow.

“I am not angry with you, Dear one,” Dracule begins and takes both of your hands in his own, “But you make me a jealous man, and Shanks doesn't know how to quit.”

He kisses your knuckles, rubbing your hands together between his own to warm up your freezing flesh, “I do not trust him, but I do trust you, and I can't be upset with you for seeking out companionship from someone other than myself and Perona.”

You slump forward, relief coursing through you when Dracule takes your hands, happy that he is finally touching you, “You and Perona have spoiled me with attention. I shouldn't need any more than that.”

Mihawk swears silently to himself and gathers you close, “No, _,” He grasps you by the jaw, turning you up so that he can catch your eyes with his own gaze, “You deserve so much more than what we can give you. If you want the redhead to come back around, I'm not going to stop you from making friends with him. I just don't like it.”

He licks his lips when a thought comes to mind. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for Shanks to have found you. Mihawk would bet his hat that the redhead figured out your past the moment you mentioned your name, Shanks had always been knowledgeable about what goes on in the world after all. Having Shanks in your corner if something were to ever happen would be a boon, not that Dracule wants anything to occur, of course. He'd much rather the redhead just stay away from his Angel, but he knows that he isn’t that lucky.

“If it makes you feel any better, Shanks and his crew swore not to tell anyone about this place. Told me that treasures needed to stay hidden,” You inform him, and while it lessens his worries a little, Dracule doesn't trust the drunk not to slip up, and he really dislikes the thought that Shanks called you his treasure. That term belonged to him.

“Promise to call me next time he shows up. I don't care what time it is,”Mihawk orders softly and then leans in to capture your lips, “I want to know when that bastard comes around.”

You can help but giggle at his miffed tone. Shanks had mentioned that Mihawk could be possessive, but seeing it in action was something else. You hadn't expected such a calm, cool, and collected man to get so upset. You yelp when Dracule pinches your side and finds the man glaring at you for poking fun at him.

You grin, and the tension in the air melts away, “I promise to call you. I should have when he showed up, I didn't think about it.”

Dracule hums and kisses your brow, “Just do it next time, Dear one.”

He pulls you close again, tucking you against his chest, and you snuggle into the possessive hold he has on you. This definitely wasn't the outcome that you had foreseen, but you weren't about to complain. Not when Dracule has reluctantly given you his blessing to stay friends with Shanks. Though you weren't naive enough to know that you weren't out of hot water yet.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax

[parichaytimes]

लौकी से सफेद बाल होंगे काले और गंजेपन से भी मिलेगा निजात, बस ऐसे करें इस्तेमाल

लौकी से सफेद बाल होंगे काले और गंजेपन से भी मिलेगा निजात, बस ऐसे करें इस्तेमाल

Image Source : FREEPIK.COM लौकी से सफेद बाल होंगे काले और गंजेपन से भी मिलेगा निजात, बस ऐसे करें इस्तेमाल हर किसी को बाल काले ही अच्छे लगते हैं लेकिन जब यह बिना बुढ़ापे के ही सफेद होने लगें तो खराब लगता है। वहीं दूसरी और समय से पहले गंजापन का भी शिकार होना अच्छा नहीं लगता है। इसलिए  आपको जानना होगा कि बाल कम उम्र में ही कम और सफेद क्यों हो जाते हैं। जब बालों में मिलेनिन पिगमेंटेशन की कमी हो जाती…

[stwberryshtcake]

Strawberry Shortcake OCs (2003)

Pumpkin Pie:

- He is a few years older than the gang (1-3 years).

- He’s generally referred to as ‘Chef’ or by his full name.

- Pumpkin has an Irish Setter named Gourd.

- Tan skin and black hair, tied up out of his face.

- He wears a pumpkin decal shir, orange pants, and a pumpkin shaped backpack when he’s out and about. When working he wears an orange bandanna on his head, a plain dark purple shirt, black slacks, and an orange chef’s apron.

- Very Tall.

- Sees the other confections/children and is like “I’m your big brother now”.

- Pumpkin will Fight the Purple Pieman and Licorice Whip. Sour Grapes is on thin ice.

- Closest to Huck, Orange Blossom, and Strawberry. Would die for Apple Dumpling.

- Makes various pumpkin and gourd related meals at his little diner called ‘The Gourdan”. It’s shaped like a pumpkin. 

- He lives in an bright orange triangle shaped house, that Peppermint Fizz HATES but can do nothing about.

- Smokes candy cigarettes. 

- Loves cooking and handyman stuff. 

Winterberry Crumble:

- The same age as the others.

- He’s called Winnie for short.

- He has a white cat named Sugar.

- Very pale with short white-blond hair.

-  Winnie, wears white and grey clothing, with winterberries embroidered on the hems. 

- Very slight and is about the height of Huck’s shoulder.

- He writes and illustrates nature guides with help from Huck and the others.

- Sweet yet passive aggressive child.

- Neighbors with Blueberry Muffin, who is his closest friend.

- Winnie gets sick easily and tends to spend a lot of time inside. 

- His house is a very quaint white cottage with a winterberry garden around it.

- he likes Strawberry’s tea.

- Winnie likes drawing and going on short walks, when he’s feeling well.

Elderberry Syrup:

- The same age as the others.

- Her nickname is Ellie

- She has a Betta fish named Rhubarb.

- Light skin and long black hair.

- She is short, barely comes up to Strawberry’s shoulder. 

- Ellie wears dark purples and blacks. 

- Ellie is also nicknamed “The Matron” by the other confections/children, she generally acts as a nurse and has a small clinic by her house.

- Acts much older than she is, sometimes the others forget she’s their age.

- Ellie lives close to the river and often visits with Rainbow Sherbet and Ginger Snap, the latter gets hurt often.

- Does house visits with Winterberry since he can’t really walk long distances.

- Huck brings her Huckleberry Pie as payment, which she devours.

- Her house is shaped like a syrup bottle, while her clinic is more usual looking.

- Ellie likes collecting unusual plates and singing. (She has a nice voice).

Chamomile Tea:

- Two years older than the kids.

- Called Cammie.

- Has a hare named Tippy.

- Sienna skin tone and brown hair.

- Willowy and slender.

- Cammie wears chamomile yellow dresses.

- Grows tea and sells it all over the world. Interacts a lot with Rainbow Sherbet but they aren’t really friends, they’re more business partners.

- Cammie is generally avoided by nearly everyone else, even Strawberry. This is because she is one of life’s antagonists. 

- Deliberately mean and enjoys causing discomfort.

- Cammie is close with Peppermint Fizz, who she’s neighbors with.

- Can only order in at the Gourdon after she bullied Orange Blossom (who was doing delivery as a favor to Pumpkin) to tears. (It was like this).

- Pumpkin only sells to her so she won’t harass anyone else in Strawberryland. She likes his pumpkin soup.

- Her house is a two story house that looks like a tea box. 

- Cammie likes gardening, crocheting, and testing Pumpkin’s near non-existent patience. 

Cranberry Crumb:

- A few months older than the kids but not by much.

- Called C.C. or Crumb. 

- He has a pet pig named Hamlet.

- Medium skin tone and light red hair.

- Sturdy build.

- C.C. wears red overalls and a green t-shirt. He’s very colorblind and usually just wears a black shirt and jeans while running his business.

- Sells various juices and teas in his bar, The Nightshade Berry. Will not sell Cammie’s tea though.

- He hangs out with Angel Cake a lot and also Huck. He mostly gets along with everyone though.

- He Does Not Like Honey Pie Pony.

- C.C. is very dry and sarcastic.

- Like’s Angel’s cakes a lot.

- His Bar is shaped like a juice bottle. His house is a small two room house, painted dark green with red trim.

- C.C. enjoys fishing and building rockets.

[wreckofawriter]

Heartbeat

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Summary: This is based off 'Points Scored' on my fanfic vote. Sirius and others play a game to see who can sleep with reader first.

An: Sorry for not writting!

"Beat that, fuckers!" Sirius exclaimed busting through the door.

Avery and Mulciber were seated, they looked at him with nervous excitement that they couldn't quite describe. 

Sirius then threw a lacy bra onto the table proceeding to bow as the other two boys glanced down at the fabric. 

"Don't tell me that’s-" 

"That's right, Grace Huddleston!" Sirius beamed. 

"No way!" Avery complained, "She wouldn't even come within ten feet of us!" 

"That's because you’re slimy gits, not the smooth and handsome Sirius Black." He grinned enjoying the distraught looks of his associates.

Mulciber rolled his eyes and glanced down at the sheet, "As impressive as that is Black, you’re still losing." 

"What?! How?! She's worth 10 points!" He said completely aghast. 

"Yes, but while you did that I scored Narcissa and Andromeda, both 6 points," Avery smirked.

"My cousins you sick fuck? I thought we agreed on no family?" He growled. 

"Yes, we agreed on no DIRECT family, and since neither of us wants to fuck your brother I'd say we're fine." Mulciber smiled. 

"Fuck you guys," Sirius muttered plopping down onto a chair examine the chart they had made. He was indeed behind Avery by 7 points and only ahead of Mulciber by 3. The game was ending at the end of the month, leaving him only two weeks to pull ahead. This would have been easy if Avery wasn't scoring points fast enough to keep his lead.

"If you actually want a chance to win I say you go for one of the big two." Avery sneered.

There were two names at the bottom of their little chart, each worth 30 points, an amount which would pull Sirius far enough to win. 

The first name scrawled in Mulciber’s not so impressive handwriting read. ‘Lily Evans’. 

Now, of course, Sirius would never go for that one. For one, the thought of sleeping with Evan's made him sick, for another even if he managed to somehow seduce her, James would kill him before he even got his points redeemed. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You guys know that they are impossible." 

"I thought you were the Great Sirius Black?" Mulciber mocked. 

"Or was that all talk?" Avery grinned. 

"Fine." Sirius huffed, "Just don’t come crying for your money back when I win." 

"If you win Black. If." 

"You know what, let's make it more interesting," Sirius smirked, "Since all of us know I'm not gonna go for Evans, how about whoever can sleep with y/l/n first wins? No time limit, just racing against each other. Whoever gets her first wins?" 

Avery and Mulciber glanced at each other. 

"Or are you guys too scared?" Sirius jeered. 

"Fine." Avery agreed "We're in." 

You glared down the girl in front of you, almost begging her to do what you knew she was planning.

“Oops.” Marlen drawled sarcastically pouring the cup of pumpkin juice delicately onto your head.

You didn't flinch, your heart still sustaining its soft, steady beat. You swiped your tongue out onto your lips humming at the taste of the spiced gourde.

Marlen stared at you, you could tell that this was not what she was used to. She was used to girls screaming or bursting into tears. Of course, you did not fulfill these expectations.

“You’re going to regret that Mckinnon.” You murmerd a signature smirk still twitching on your lips.

You saw her eyes flash with fear before darting around and resetting on your own.

“Oh, are you going to write to mommy and daddy about it, they're gonna fix it for you? Or are you gonna break your psycho uncle out of Azkaban and have him kill us?” She smiled sweetly, the sugar that coated everything she did made you want to vomit.

“Don't worry you'll see him in there soon enough.” She giggled; a ridiculously sharp noise.

“Do not ever compare me to my family.” You growled.

“Oooohh, I'm terrified.” She mocked although you could read the truth in her eyes, the truth she would never share with the girls who were crowded around you. 

“You do it again and I won't have to break out my uncle to kill you.” Your voice was so low the girl you were speaking to could hardly hear it.

“Don’t worry I’ll put you where you belong, behind bars.” 

Her smile and the girls laughs only lasted for a short second. 

You heard a loud crunch as your knuckles connected with her nose, a sharp yell of pain echoed through the corridor followed quickly by gasps and screams. 

You hissed at the pain your hand now held, it throbbed lightly, your heartbeat finding itself there.

Sobs then grasped from Marlen’s mouth causing you to scoff, mumbling “Pathetic.” quietly under your breath before you turned to leave. 

"Miss y/l/n!"  McGonagall shouted, her voice inflated with fury. 

"Yes Professor?" You drawled turning to face the women, a bored expression taking your features. 

"I just ran into Miss McKinnon and her nose is broken!" She yelled glaring down at you, it was no secret you were one of her least favorite students. 

"She shouldn't be sticking it in other people's business." You shrugged picking at your nails.

"Are you telling me that you are the one who broke it?" She gasped. 

"Godric, I would have thought you had figured that already." You rolled your eyes. 

"Detention, my room, for a month." She hissed. 

"I'm so sorry, I'm going to have to cancel." You hummed a disappointed look falling upon you. 

"Miss y/l/n detention isn’t something you can just cancel." She scoffed 

"It is when I already have detention with Flitwick." You shrugged. 

"Fine then. Morning detention. I already have a group of students serving then, you will join them." 

"I'm gonna gave to cancel again." You smiled.

"Don't tell me you have more detention." McGonagall sighed.

"No, I'm just not a morning person." You smirked. 

McGonagall sharpened her gaze on you and you just smiled back.

"I expect to see you there Miss y/l/n." 

"Of course." You mocked.

McGonagall turned on her heel mumbling something about the need for discipline and left. 

You did the same continuing towards your common room. You reached the room and was about to whisper the password when a booming voice echoed through the dark corridor. 

"Y/l/n!" 

You turned to be met with a pair of stunning green eyes and floppy blonde hair. A mischievous smile danced in white, tucked neatly behind a pair of pink lips. 

"Avery." You drawled attempting to keep your eyes from rolling. 

"You look stunning as always." He complimented this time nothing could have stopped your eyes from turning in their sockets, "How are you?"

"Better when you weren't here." You sighed.

"Oh come one y/l/n, we're friends." He smiled.

"Just because I have been forced to go to the same social gatherings as you since I was four doesn't mean we're friends." You drawled before mumbling the password and slipping into the common room. 

Avery followed, as persistent as ever, "Good, I never liked the friend zone anyway."

You scoffed, "Well I hope you enjoy the dickwad-who-harasses-me zone." 

"I wouldn't call it harassment." He smirked placing his hand lightly on your waist. 

"I would," you spoke snatching his palm from your skin and twisting it harshly. 

He gasped but continued to smile, "I bet you like it rough in bed." 

You dug your nails into his flesh hearing his hiss in pain, "Speak to me like that again and I break your wrist. Clear?"

"Crystal." He whimpered. 

"Avery!" Another voice called through the common room, "Will you please stop harassing the beautiful girl?" 

You let go of Avery's wrist and turned, this time to see Mulciber. 

Avery through him a sharp glance before backing away from you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, placing his hand on your shoulder and examining you closely. A little too closely. 

"Fine." You shook his hand off your shoulder once and tossed one more icy glare at Avery before ascending to your room.

You groaned wincing as you sat up slowly from your bed, your head pounded. You swore, regretting the small bottle of fire whiskey which now lay empty on your floor. 

You stood slowly, the grey of early morning dulling the colors of your dorm room. You stepped down from your bed, your warm feet cooling on the wooden floor. You glanced out of the window to your left. 

You let your mind sink into the green murky water, you watched something dart by calmly. You wished to stay there forever, watching as the kelp swayed slowly back and forth, part of you wanted to grab the closest thing and smash the glass letting yourself become part of the dark wet. 

You brushed the thought from your head dressing in silence, downing a few painkillers and, sliding on your robes before grabbing the black leather school bag which rested at the end of your bed. 

You exited the room slipping slowly down the stairs before sighing and pushing open the door, greeted by the warmth of the dungeons. You listened to footsteps echo off the walls listening to your heart pound calmly. You let your mind wander, but never too far, you kept it in chains, holding it from dark corners which you wished would fall away.

You accened a stairwell enjoying the soft hum of the changing steps and the murmurs of the portraits which surrounded you. 

You walked a few more steps before pushing open a heavy wooden door to be greeted by five pairs of eyes.

The first you locked with were a deep grey, silver almost seeming to swirl within them. Your mind filled with memories of searches and hiding, pinning and secrets, hearts thumping, blush rising. 

They left your thoughts as quickly as they flooded them. Your heart thumped its usual slow pace, no change taking place.

“Ms. Y/l/n, nice of you to show up.” McGonagall snipped glancing at a clock which read five-o-five. Five minutes late. 

“It was nice of me to show up, you should be thankful.” You spoke back, your headache seeming to remerge. 

You heard a pair of sneakers and felt a glare on you, but you refused to look down at the boys who sat at the tables in front of you. 

“You should be thankful I don't have you expelled.” She wiped.

You nodded and took a seat at one of the tables in the back, you felt the boy's eyes follow you, you could hear whispers being exchanged. 

“Well, I hope you all like paperwork because you will be organizing it for the next three hours,” McGonnagle spoke earning a groan from James who sat in front of you. She waved her wand and papers appeared on each of your desks, most were disciplinary forms. Some papers you didn't quite feel like reading and some were littered with spells and charms. You reached for your wand, only to have it ripped from your hand.

“No magic.” The woman in front of you smirked almost as if she enjoyed your pain. 

“Give me my wand back.” you hissed.

She didn't follow her orders and instead examined the wand with intense criticism, “Hawthorn?” she asked.

You replied with a curt nod. 

“Core?” 

“Dragon heartstring.” You snarled missing the feeling of its rough wood in your hand.

“Very nice.” was all the professor said before setting it gently back onto your desk. “Wand away Potter!” 

You glared at the papers in front of you, the harsh black against pure white hurting your eyes. You leaned your head down hiding your eyes in the crook of your elbow, attempting to stop the pounding of your head by cowering from the light. You slowly let yourself be immersed back into black. 

You stifled a giggle, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you clamped your hand over your mouth. You were enveloped in blackness, the only visible light was sliding through a small sliver at your feet before it spread like a bird’s wings until it stretched too thin and disappeared. 

You felt another giggle rise in your throat. You were tempted to shed the uncomfortable dress you wore, but you didn't want your mother to scold you again. You choked back laughter as footsteps grew louder dress shoes on polished granite sounding loudly in your ears. You could feel a broom handle digging into your back, your heart now thumped so loudly against your rib cage you were sure that the boy outside could hear it, and maybe he could. 

The door whipped open, blinding you with light as you let out a small shriek hiding behind your hands before peaking through them and seeing a deep, swirling grey.

You awoke with a start, your eyes met grey once again and you stifled a light shout. 

“You awake y/l/n?” Sirius asked with a small smirk.

“No.” You answered turning away from the boy. 

He chuckled a dark rich sound, “Well you might want to change that, we’ve got class in four minutes.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled turning back to him. You watched as his eyes sparkled in a godly way, his silky hair falling from behind his ear, his milky skin uninterrupted by blemishes. Your heart thumped its lazy beat, almost bored. 

“You coming?” He asked moving away from you to gather his stuff. You nodded, although you weren't quite sure where you were going.

You gather your things and trailed slowly after the boy who waited for you at the door.

“I've missed you y/l/n, we haven’t spoken in so long.” Sirius spoke and you felt as if you were finally jolted awake. 

“You did?” Your voice was filled with doubt and menace.

“Of course, we were great friends as kids, how could I not?” He smiled at you.

Something changed, your heartbeat stuttered, your breaths quickened and you felt yourself falling, so slowly, like the hero in an action movie, you just hopped cupid had just as terrible aim as the villains always did. 

You struggled to keep your eyelid’s incredible weight up. You felt your mind nod into darkness before you snapped your head back to attention, Flitwick’s high voice echoing in and out of your head. You finally gave up and let your head fall back onto your arm, your hair spilling onto the desk as you let the world disappear behind you. 

You woke in a dark cold room you recognized far too well. The echoing of heels on marble floors ringing in your ears. You could feel the dress you wore scratching the back of your neck as the large earrings poked through you snagged in your hair. You looked across the table and met the face of a tall woman, her smokey black hair pulled into such a tight bun you almost thought it would rip the skin from her scalp. Your small hands grasped a fork, you suddenly felt a sharp hiss of pain and you bit back a whimper glancing at your mother who glared at you her wand clutched under her skirt, ready to perform another act of punishment. You set down the fork you held and grasp the one to its left earning a small nod of approval. 

You glanced to your right to meet the softness of pillowing grey eyes. You felt your heart thump loudly as the small boy reached for your hand under the table, grasping it and giving it a small squeeze. You bite your tongue as false laughter surrounded you, the soft tinkle of silverware hitting china running in the cold dining hall, the chandelier above you sending an icy light through the area. 

Yet you felt warmth on your cheeks and in your hand as the boy next you held you. You wished to tell him, you hoped for him to tell you something in return, but it was secret you knew you would die with because as your mother said, you're ten years old now, you aren't children anymore. You don't have time for feelings. You have obligations to meet. 

You jolted awake groaning slightly as a sharp pain spread from your shin, you glared at the girl next to you who only returned the favor.

Suddenly a voice greeted your ears, it was sharp and high making you cringe.

"Ms. Y/l/n!" Flitwick repeated, although the first attempts to gain your attention went unheard.

"Yes, professor?" You droned.

"What is the answer?" He spoke harshly.

"Ummm," you glanced at the board in hopes of seeing some hints for the riddle you were just handed. None were found, your heart remained calm, it’s beat steady and smooth as it always was.

With slight desperation in your eyes you glanced across the room and found two storms of grey. Your eyes trailed down to his lips which moved slowly, the word they were speaking exaggerated.

"Portus." You spoke suddenly glancing at your teacher, "The answer is Portus."

Flitwick’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing suspiciously. 

Your lips twitched into a cheeky grin, challenging the professor in front of you. 

"That is correct." He spoke slowly.

Your smile widened, you glanced across to Sirius mouthing a thanks. He winked back unfazed.

You felt your heart flip as he looked your way. Its steady beat was interrupted and it was sent into a frenzy as you glanced back down at your hands, laying your head back onto your desk

The next day you awoke with the same sense of dread you seemed to hold every moment you weren't asleep.

You slowly made your way to McGonagall's room, never quite waking, eyes half-lidded.

You came to the same seat you occupied the day before and glared down at the papers in front of you.

You yawned, eyes snapping shut as your mouth widened. When your lids parted again you were met with a cheeky smile.

"Sirius." You greeted lazily.

"I think I'll sit here today." He responded setting his bag down on the opposite side of your table. 

Your heart snapped aggressively, "You can't." 

"Why not?" Sirius asked almost looking hurt, almost.

Your mind went blank, reasons evading you as your head began to ache, "There's no chair." 

"Well, I can change that." He shrugged walking to the table he had occupied the day before grasping the chair it held and dragging it noisily back to his original position.

You winced at the sharp sound the legs emitted on the classroom's floors, "Can't you pick it up?" You growled.

He rolled his eyes playfully lifting the chair above his head and walking back in front of you, "Better?" He asked before dropping in onto the ground.

"No." You pouted slightly.

Sirius' smile widened largely, "You're really cute ya' know."

Your heart leaped uncontrollably.

"You always have been, even when you were little, you were always so adorable." 

You felt your cheeks heat, your breaths becoming irregular, "Shut up." 

"Are you blushing?" He teased bringing his finger up and poking your cheek.

You swatted his hand away biting back a smile, "No."

"Are you sure?" He jeered.

"Positive." You grinned sarcastically.

You attempted to focus on sorting the papers in front of you, but it was practically impossible when you could feel Sirius' eyes boring into you.

You snapped your head upwards, "What?" 

Sirius only smiled back, "You should come to Hogsmeade with me."

"What." You repeated, eyes wide.

"Ya' know, the village with all the shops and things." He explained

"I know what Hogsmeade is you moron." You said back, heart beating irregularly.

"Yeah well you should come, James, Remus, and Peter will be there. And Lily if she gets over the whole poly juice thing." He shrugged.

Your heart slowed back to a normal pace, "What is the poly j?- you know what, I'm not even gonna ask." You cut yourself off.

"So will you come?" He asked voice inflated with hope.

You bit your lip, "I don't know, I mean Lily and I aren't exactly best buds." 

"Come on y/n/n, for me?" Sirius pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a pitiful pout.

You ignored your heartbeat growing loud and sighed, "Fine." 

He let out a little yelp of happiness, earning a glare from McGonagall, "I swear you won’t regret it." 

"I better not." 

As you made your way to your first class your momentary happiness was interrupted by a certain brunette.

"Y/l/n!" Mulciber shouted through the halls running towards you. 

You wondered if you could make a break for it, but before you could decide his hand was on your shoulder spinning you around. 

“Yes, Mulciber?” You asked in a deflated sigh. 

“I saw you weren't at breakfast and I didn’t want you to go hungry.” He smiled holding out a blueberry muffin.

You knitted your brows in confusion reaching out for the muffin, “Umm thanks.” 

“Yeah of course.” He said back, “Do you want me to carry those?” he gestured to the books tucked under your arm. 

“Sure.” You shrugged passing him the books and beginning to nibble on the baked good he brought you. 

“Where are you headed?” he asked trailing behind you as you began to walk down the corridor.

“I’ve got Herbology. You don't have to follow me all the way down to the greenhouses though.” You glanced back over your shoulder eyes narrowed, you were still suspicious of the boy’s actions. 

“It's no problem.” He smiled happily catching up to you. 

You suddenly stopped in your tracks causing the boy to come to a skidding halt, “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” you asked, never one to beat around the bush; your mother always told you it was a sign of weakness to be indirect anyway. 

His face grew a bit red, “Umm, I just, ya know.” 

“I don't know.” You cut in.

“I just think your kinda cute and I don't know, I thought maybe you might finally start paying attention to me.” He spoke scratching the back of his neck, his golden eyes refused to meet yours. 

“You’re lying.” You smirked. “I'm not an idiot Mulciber, I don't know what you’re playing at, but I will find out and you will regret it, you can be sure of that.” 

The boy’s eyes widened he opened his mouth to speak but before he could you had snatched your books back from him and dropped the muffin to the ground, stepping on it as you continue your way to class. 

As the week continued getting out of bed seemed to get easier. Your eyelids lost some of the pounds they seemed to be carrying and your heartbeat never felt the same. It jumped unpredictably, sped to inhuman rates and stopped abruptly. Your thoughts filled with those of black hair and leather jackets. The smell of fresh pine and chocolate clouded your dreams, grey eyes were all that you could see. You wished you had disregarded the schoolgirl crush you had for the eldest Black brother but it only seemed to grow stronger and stronger, from infatuation to true feelings. 

You went to Hogsmeade, despite everything in your body telling you not to, and it wasn't half as bad as you predicted. Lily was shooting you glares - no doubt because of what you did to her dear friend and darling Marlen Mckinnon - but no one else seemed to have a problem with you, although Peter seemed a bit scared of you. 

By the end of the month, you began to look forward to your detention. You got just about nothing done but the conversations with Sirius were endless. You reminisced over the awful dress robes his mother insisted he wore and argued over which quidditch team was superior. You laughed more than you had in far too long. You suddenly felt alive again. It was as if the boy you now fantasized about had finally showed you what existing was for. 

You felt the dew soaking through your robes as it numbed your toes and wet your hands as your fingers danced in the grass. You heard a slight grunt as Sirius plopped into the green beside you, your shoulders brushing as your heartbeat sped. You tore your gaze from the boy beside you and glanced up at the sky.

A small gasp left your mouth as you stared up at the stars in awe. Your lips stayed parted as your eyes traced the heavenly body above you. You just stared. You might have laid there for a minute, for ten, for an hour, you didn't know and you didn't care. You could have stayed, sprawled in that field for the rest of your life as you stared into the stars, tracing the constellations, disappearing into the universe above you. 

“It’s beautiful.” You sighed out in a dreamy haze.

“Not as beautiful as you are.” Sirius commented causing your cheeks to flush as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

“That was a really cheesy line Black.” You smirked, “You sound like you're in some terrible rom-com.”

“You make me feel like I’m in some terrible rom-com.” He sighed, staring at you in a way you couldn't quite comprehend. 

“That was just as bad.” You giggled. 

Sirius disregarded you comment leaning close to you, you could feel your heart pumping uncontrollably. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his breath fanning directly over your nose. 

You nodded slowly and without another warning, his lips were on yours. They brushed your own hesitantly as his hands found your waist. You felt your hands creep up to his hair tugging on it lightly. Sirius released a small moan and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue past his lips as you tasted butterbeer and mint. 

You broke away blushing harshly, your lips swollen, light gasps pulling from you. 

“I think I might be in love with you,” You whispered scared if you raised your voice anymore you would break the spell the two of you had been placed under. 

Sirius only stared back a you and reconnected your lips. 

The next morning you woke with a smile for the first time in ages. You practically leaped out of bed dressing quietly.

“You look dazzling today as usual y/n.” Sirius winked when you arrived at the classroom

“Only for you.” You respond as your heart stuttered in your chest. 

The hours passed in haze and you soon departed to potions. On your way, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on see Avery who had been becoming slowly more and more kind over the past few weeks. 

“Avery. How are you?” You asked continuing to your class. 

“I'm alright.” He shrugged “How about you?” 

“I’m great.” You smiled as the two of you continued to potions. 

Once seated in the class you made a decent effort to pay attention to what Slughorn was speaking about but you couldn't seem to focus on anything, your mind wandered to the texture of Sirius’s lips, the taste he held, the way his hands felt on your waist. 

You glanced to were Avery was seated, seeing a numbered sheet of paper and catching a glimpse of your name at the bottom before it was torn from your view. 

“What is that Avery?” You asked him quietly.

“What was what?” He responded.

“Don't play dumb with me, I am not an idiot.” You hissed, your hand gripping his arm harshly. 

He whimpered sliding the paper over to you hesitantly. 

You opened the parchment your eyes scanning the list of names, but seeing yours on there wasn't what hurt. When you saw another's scrawled at the top your heart stopped. 

“No.” You whimpered, your throat tightening as your world spun. 

You stood abruptly, knocking your knees on the desk in front of you, moving the things on it, one jar falling to the ground and shattering. 

“Ms. y/l/n?” Slughorn asked hesitantly, the entire class watched you in a mixture of fear and curiosity. 

A wrecked sob left your lips tearing from your throat as your eyes welled with tears, “No!” You shrieked a sharp noise that made those around you wince. You darted from the classroom without another word, collapsing into sobs before you could even reach your common room. Your head began to throb as cries tore from your mouth, you could taste salt as you sunk to the ground. 

You slowly regain your footing and stubbled up the stairs, sobs still echoing around you, your throat becoming raw. 

Just as you reached the corridor you were looking for classes were released and students flooded the hallways, you didn't bother with anyone, not caring about one pair of eyes on you. 

When you saw him your heart halted altogether. He was a masterpiece, his hair shining in the light as his teeth flashed a dazzling white. You wanted to tear him open, rip him to shreds.

His gaze met yours and softened. You didn't speak a word to him, snatching his wrist and dragging him away, you didn't pay any mind to his protests as you dragged him into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind you. 

“Y/n/n wh-”

“Thirty points.” You choked out. “I’m worth thirty points.” 

His eyes widened mouth falling open to speak. 

“I’m impressed, Black.” You laughed darkly tears spilling down your cheeks like hot raindrops. “I truly am, you managed to trick me, you managed to seduce the cold-hearted bitch of a Slytherin right?” 

“Y/n, I don't know what to say.” He spoke slowly. 

“Say you love me.” You hiccupped.

“You know I can't do that.” He said as you bit your bottom lip in attempts to keep it from quivering. 

“Then get away from me.” You spat like venom.

He turned and left without another word and you collapsed to the ground, your nails digging into your wrist. 

You lay on the ground for hours, silent tears spilling down your cheeks, wishing your heartbeat would stop forever.  

Part 2

Taglist: @accio-rogers @k3nz-doodl3 @roslea @songforhema @wangmangagavroche

[nikitakamboj]

"Lauki Ka Juice" is good detox juice that should be consumed first thing in the morning. During summer season, lauki (dudhi or ghiya or bottle gourd) is widely available. Because of it's high water content, it is good idea to consume it in the hot summer season. It is rich in dietary fibre, vitamain C, Riboflavin, Zinc, Thiamine, Iron, Magnesium, Manganese etc. Some health benefits of the humble bottle gourd or ‘lauki’: Reduces stress Benefits the heart Helps in weight loss Helps in treating sleeping disorders Prevents premature greying of hair Helps in digestion Benefits the skin #lauki #dudhi #bottlegourd #juicecleanse #juice #detox #juicing #healthylifestyle #coldpressedjuice #vegan #healthyfood #healthyjuice #freshjuice #greenjuice #plantbased #healthyliving #juicingforhealth #weightloss #smoothie #detoxjuice #juicewrld #latvija #foodphotography #foodie #indianfood #food #homemade #foodporn #instafood #foodblogger (at Noida नोएडा) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSvVmV5FvmR/?utm_medium=tumblr

[youropinioncorner]

Bottle Gourd Juice also known as lauki ka Juice are highly rich source of nutrients like potassium and vitamin C. There are enormous health benefits of drinking bottle gourd juice on an empty stomach. Green vegetables and juices are rich source of nutrients and vitamins.Apart from great cooling effect of bottle gourd juice it also keeps your heart, skin, hair ,stomach and overall body healthy. It also helps to keep the blood pressure of the body at optimum level. It also helps to control premature greying of the hair and reduce wrinkles on the face.

[maculategiraffe]

won’t you meet me at the gates to the garden

Little snippet: Nora and the gang, at the Castle, Halloween night. ~1500 words, and a lot of that is quotes from The Canterville Ghost. 

Happy Halloween, my darlings.

They can’t celebrate Halloween the way she remembers it, back in Sanctuary Hills, or before that, when she was a kid.  Dressing up in fancy store-bought costumes, based on TV and movie and radio superheroes: Grognak, the Silver Shroud, Mistress of Mystery.  Nora remembers going as a cat, a cowgirl, a witch, a hippie in thrift-store bell-bottom jeans and a peace sign painted on her cheek.  More nervous than excited, holding out a pillowcase or a pail for a neighbor to drop something into.  

She didn’t like how you weren’t supposed to say please.  Trick or treat, as if you might do something bad to people who didn’t placate you with candy.  She didn’t like that idea as a kid.  Still doesn’t.

Now Shaun’s the only kid around of trick-or-treating age, and he’s not the type to enjoy filling a sack with sugary treats at others’ expense, anyway.  He’d rather run around distributing any available treats to his brothers and sisters, and the other settlers at the Castle.

He’s enough like Nora that he doesn’t much like the idea of disguises, either.  Monsters are too real, these days, to take pleasure in the dressing-up of someone dear and familiar as someone, or something, less so.  

And the dead are-- well, Nora doesn't believe in ghosts, not that way, not seasonally.  If Nate can be here with her, and if there isn't a good reason why he shouldn't be, then he's here a lot more often than once a year.  

(She hopes he isn't.  She hopes he's with Shaun-- their first Shaun-- in heaven.  He believed in heaven, completely.  She's about fifty-fifty.  But if there is one, Nate's definitely there, and she can't imagine whoever's in charge wouldn't let him have his son with him.)

This time of year, she thinks more about the war, the bombs falling.  Ghosts, kind of, but not the fun, spooky kind.

But this year they’ve carved jack-o-lanterns, out of gourds and winter melons, scooping out the seeds to roast with a little salt and a little oil, carving cheerful, jagged-toothed moon faces and setting candles inside.  She was just going to show Shaun how, but then everyone else wanted to join in too.  After tonight-- after a night of bright faces all over the courtyard, grinning and spilling light-- she'll gather the gourds and melons and cook them, so the meat of them doesn't go to waste.  

It's Dee's turn to read aloud tonight, and he’s picked Oscar Wilde's "The Canterville Ghost.”  He’s reading outside instead of in the library, so they can all enjoy the jack-o-lanterns, for the little time they last.  The night's cool, but not cold; her kids curl against each other, for warmth and for love.  Shaun sits in her lap. Hancock's arm rests on her shoulders.  A real lantern, not a jack-o- one, lights the page, and Dee's face, in that spooky, atmospheric campfire way.  Dee has such a great voice for reading.  It's low and gravelly and dramatic as he reads,

"Right in front of him he saw, in the wan moonlight, an old man of terrible aspect. His eyes were as red burning coals; long grey hair fell over his shoulders in matted coils; his garments, which were of antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and from his wrists and ankles hung heavy manacles and rusty gyves.

"'My dear sir,' said Mr. Otis"-- Dee's voice switches registers, turns prim and nasal, so that everyone's laughing even before he goes on-- "'I really must insist on your oiling those chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small bottle of Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely efficacious upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that effect on the wrapper. I shall leave it here for you by the bedroom candles, and will be happy to supply you with more, should you require it.'"

Dee switches back to the dramatic voice to continue, "For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite motionless in natural indignation; then, dashing the bottle violently upon the polished floor, he fled down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and emitting a ghastly green light. Just, however, as he reached the top of the great oak staircase, a door was flung open, two little white-robed figures appeared, and a large pillow whizzed past his head! There was evidently no time to be lost, so, hastily adopting the Fourth dimension of Space as a means of escape, he vanished through the wainscoting, leaned up against a moonbeam to recover his breath, and began to try and realize his position. Never, in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of three hundred years, had he been so grossly insulted."

Shaun is having a fit of the giggles in her lap, struggling to breathe.  Everyone's laughing, as Dee keeps reading, about the family that just refuses to be scared.

"He laughed his most horrible laugh," Dee reads, "till the old vaulted roof rang and rang again, but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a door opened, and Mrs. Otis came out in a light blue dressing-gown. 'I am afraid you are far from well,' she said, 'and have brought you a bottle of Doctor Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you will find it a most excellent remedy.''

"Oh my God," says Victoria, laughing.  "It's Mom!"

Even Dee cracks up at that, and loses his place for a second.  Nora laughs, breathless with happiness, with her family around her, in the darkness that makes the flickering golden light so incredibly lovely.

The story takes a sadder, sweeter turn towards the end, when the daughter of the family befriends the ghost.  Dee's voice goes soft, gentle, when he does her voice: 

"'I am so sorry for you,' she said, 'but my brothers are going back to Eton to-morrow, and then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy you.'

"'It is absurd asking me to behave myself,' he answered, looking round in astonishment at the pretty little girl who had ventured to address him, 'quite absurd. I must rattle my chains, and groan through keyholes, and walk about at night, if that is what you mean. It is my only reason for existing.'

"'It is no reason at all for existing, and you know you have been very wicked.'"

"That sounds like Emily," says Michael, and everyone laughs again, and the story stays funny for a bit, until Dee's voice, his gruff rusty ghost-voice, changes:

"Far away beyond the pine-woods, there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers.

"Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears, and she hid her face in her hands.

"'You mean the Garden of Death,' she whispered.

"'Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is.'"

Nora's eyes are stinging, now.  It's Dee's voice, the tenderness and the pain in it, the yearning.  

He reads on, and little Virginia bravely helps the wicked old ghost be laid to rest, and everyone lives-- or dies-- happily ever after, and everyone is quiet for a bit.  Shaun's asleep, slumped on Nora's arm and chest.

Nora's heart is full, overflowing.  He made me see what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than both.

Max says, "Good stuff.  Good pick, Dee."

Dee shuts the book, as everyone murmurs agreement, and says, "Thanks.  I thought, you know-- I kinda forgot about all that heavy stuff, there at the end."

Cog says, "It was funny.  It was good."

"Thank you, Dee," says Danse gravely.  

Dee waves them off.  "Yeah, OK.  Bedtime.  For people that sleep.  Look, 2.0's already out."

The night rustles and creaks with everyone's rising, flashes as they move through light and dark.  

Nora stays still the longest, Shaun breathing in her lap.  Wondering, or imagining.

She isn’t afraid.  If they're here, the beloved dead, called by her longing, or by the thinness of the veil tonight, then they belong here, just outside this circle, making the dark gentle for the living.

And if they're not-- 

(Emily’s voice, remembered: Sleep is a sweetness, so I hear it said.)

Someday she'll be with them, wherever they are.

But no hurry.

"Here, ma'am," says Michael, reaching down.  "I'll carry Shaun to bed."

She shifts, lifts her smallest son towards her tallest, feels her husband's hand on her back, as Michael lifts Shaun's sleepy weight from her, as she begins to rise.

[bluepenguinstories]

Intention Headaches Chapter Four

Croaking, creaky, doors to heaven or a flash of bright lights reminiscent of a distant city for gambling purposes. Seed or glitter tossed to the audience of bird; dove and pigeon swooped down from above in the guise of hundreds of humans, all ready for a night of party. Sign changed to that of a welcoming invitation, an embrace fulfilled.

Swooners and swingers, uppers and downers. Sitters and stands found their places, some on stages, some in the dimmer recesses. In the middle of it all, a mild-mannered strict enforcer of peace among chaos cleaned glasses.

Some folks, card and dice in hand, bet high stakes; those playing Russian Roulette with a full clip. Some were on their last leg. There was one, solitaire player, alone at a table, with two legs, and mouth full of stake.

She had become without arm nor ornament, having to chew the fat and whatever else was left through the means as one would have at a pie-eating contest; mouth against the table, table against the grain. Although a steak, recent losses also reduced the quality to that of a super rare rather plus ultra.

“How goes your loss of arms?” One privateer sans privacy peeked at two stumps beside a line added.

“Shit's easy 'cept can't afford prosthetic 'til our gang gets a win. Love usin' my mouth, however.”

Sage nod, wisdom as a slow up and down motion.

“Experience any phantom limb?” Phantom crook hovered over, pale and ghastly gourd in hand.

“Don't believe in ghosts.”

Damned nod dawned on hovering attention hoarders.

Toward center:

“I had a wife once,” said old friend to tender of bars.

“I know,” gave a master of tender bars.

Old friend man strolled toward former owner of arms. He relaxed a pat on a shoulder, lest a back be pat.

“One day my story will be told,” he assured more lines added.

“Yeah, and who's gonna tell it, asshole?” She shot back, less with a gun and rather chunks of meat flying from a gaping hole in a face where food at times enters. “'Cause if it's from you, it's not worth hearing about!”

His stature was far from a statue, yet his manner was monumental. Rather chipped shoulder came crashing down, upside on a frown.

“It becomes more clear.”

However, smudged was what entered from behind a hue.

“What do you have against autobiographies? My dear, a automatic biological response toward the self is a circular motion. Jerking, ever forward, sliding sleight of hand marks for a rotary notary.”

Add a shiver to a line. Creep tingled spine.

Behind, vociferous virginal cackle crackled. Stooped stature. One and only entrance, where all else was least expected.

“It has come to my attention that my family of misfits have suffered some losses!” Such an announcement. “No more! I say! We shall overcome this laboratory love, seek shelter from ourselves! Turn inward and a new leaf forward! All who join my gang today gain free drinks on me!”

Thunderous lightning in bottles.

Adeline kept head down, as head above water came skin deep.

“There are two I fear: Sylvie and Virginia.”

To the other Woolfs, howls were deafening. Fangs were spiked in drinks. Yet, when in the presence of a Virginia, her commands were akin to carrying rocks in one's pockets and heading out to sea.

Right on cue, a tunic beat sprung from leaps and bounds of snapping fingers, rickety floorboards, and pickled shoelaces. Such a hall dedicated to tango. Dancers took a new center stage. Pinstripe, tuxedo, tutu, and tunic.

“May I have this dance?” One said to the other.

“No,” other said to one.

The two proceeded to tango. Separately. Creating their own moves. Spun and hiss from the potter's wheel.

“Sing us a song, piano man!” One in the crowd cheered and jeered, a jaunty musk enchanted a nostril torpedo humanoid.

Tune in minor D, flat. Singing in major G, sharp.

“I was born in an institution, so take me to the institution. Hollow out my skull for me, baby.”

Everyone snapped their fingers, sans those without or those with taste buds. Budding tastes abased. Upper right square, centerfold, holy ritualistic loneliness devoured a devout silent speaker.

Muttered, a sufferer. Alone, red wine.

“The church claims to hand out prayers to those in need. The church claims to heal all those with wounds. But how can such wounds be shaved when they come from the hands of one above? How can prayers reach, how can one pray, when one is prey to a praying mantis?”

Her words were a sermon, to and from her alone. All those to see, herself. Though there were two, seeing her.

“Annie, the sharpshooter. Tricky, thick needle. Not one made claim to touch her.”

One of two. Pointer. Point and jeer.

“Sharpshooter or fragile flower?”

Other, drinker. Just as most. Mostly morose.

“Church. We've been over this. Bullets. She knows this.”

“Her mother keeps a keen eye.”

“Of the Sextons?”

“Not one made claim to touch her, but one.”

Turtle and porcupine pawned a torch through a blazing trail, overheard outcrop of silent words.

“Yo, Buddy?”

Turtle had a back, no shell.

“Was that my name?”

“Such a dilemma, that Annie case.”

“Which one?”

Porcupine did a sit, then pointed to a sit, then took a stand. Syd was still on the fence. Respect on a mend.

“I respect women, but what about women who disrespect women?”

Turtle dove, diving down a crown.

“Respect a little less?”

Adeline, minding less of a mind and a little more risky business, less stake for steak, took to munching carpet. Similar texture, less cost.

Decimation, ten of them. Torturous conditions. Smaller and smaller, then lesser and greater than the sum of their tears for fears. Out on the other end, next kareoke session.

“My cue!” Glee, jitter bug and shut-in cough tourist.

As all else, empty, Syd, short for a name forbidden, spoke aloud.

“MOOD CHANGE TONIGHT!” Brought impassioned introduction, then a sing along to a line of lyric. “GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUUUUN!”

Abridged, bridged gaps, two ladies took hands. Unmarried, unbridled, in bridal regalia as regal as larked tongue.

“Why do you date him?” Lustrous loss owner inquired.

“He's harmless. Undangerous man, a safe, sure bet.” She curled over her hair, flexing her neck, sticking it outward in case ladies were to observe. Star tattooed, shoreline above the mantle.

Annie, less drink, more sorrow. Sylvie, more observant, sharp gaze.

“I prefer not to comment.”

“Leader of Sextons, her mother. Weren't the three of us in the same hospital?” Less Victoria, more Virginia mouthed audible.

“I share not her views. We begin and end with being acquainted.”

“Oh, come on, dear,” Sizzled, swizzled nails. Swerved, curly hair. White, silver, grey, painted. Glasses that zoom in and out of frame. “Do we not share our fascinations with death? Look around us, we have all suffered losses. We are dead among the dead. Is that not cause for celebration?”

Silent. Serene. Hostile.

“There are a million reasons to die. There are a million reasons to live. Regardless, we all experience one and the other at one point or another.”

“Hmph. Well, darling. We could talk for days about it.”

“Between nature and nurture, I do not force hands.”

She strode her stroll toward a grassy knoll within inner chambers of a table toward the back, varnished and vanished driftwood matte. Drink, had hand tilted with glass. Knotty bramble ale, crisp to the core of an apple and cider.

“I think I don't want society, but then I think I want society because society wants me to want society,” silver, slivered Syl.

“Societal pressures?” Verge in a woman inquiry.

“More that I don't know what I want if I don't have it. But do I only not want it because it wants me to not want it? And when I want it do I want it because it wants me to want it or is it my own desire? Do I desire to live in a society, or live outside? Do I desire to live, or without?”

Another fucking sip, babes took their places, hips and waist belly dances. Boomed a bounce off another end of another corner, crowd gathered to sharks and gatherers.

“I once knew a man named Dave,” dealer dealt shame.

“Say, pal, y'bought any penises recently?”

“Couldn't afford it. Couldn't win enough missions. Tried going in, trying on different dicks. Saw a penis I liked and asked the register. Clerk clocked me. Caught me and coughed up foul interplay of lessons in lack of funds and lack of missions won. Said come back when gang's more renowned. Screwed up, balls of screws.”

“What about a vagina?”

“Those are in even rarer supplies, mate. Try buyin' pussy and folks say 'our selection is for higher ranks. Come back with a little more, no a lot. Lot and lot of renown. Everyone wants one, those who can fit into one can't afford to have one. Now, them Hemingways, too good, little respect. Ain't know what to do. Men who love men, ain't go for dick, ain't try on pussy. Tell ya what's what?”

“My life's a litter box,” interjected strands of hair attached to a face, earl and mache.

“What, Dave?”

“We talking about cats? Because I own a house full. Over 20.”

“Yes, we know, Dave.”

“Y'know,” sized up undulate leader sliced up with a ruler lines of coke. “People think I do drugs, but I DO NOT DO DRUGS. What especially gets me is when they think I do heroin. No. None in this household. I am a vegan. I AM KOSHER. There are those who would call me a post-modernist, but lemme tell you guys somethin': if you measure out the diameter of a filthy swimming pool, describe the height, length, width, dimension, how clean the pool is and what made up the filth in the pool, in details, y'know what that is? REALISM. The real post-modernism is modernism, if you ask me. If you're too afraid to do a little research, then maybe DON'T GO OUT IN THE FIELD.”

Spread out were the cocaine powder locomotive rollercoaster. Salt or sugar, bitter pickle, all snow white.

“Now, anyone want some? I can't have any, I'm allergic.”

Grime, grit, salami-based muscle, pungent four fingers and a thumb attached to a potato called a palm reached for the flour, only for Dave to slap it away.

“Just so you know, a footnote is an endnote if it's at the end.”

Syl emerged from her drink, still in.

“Problem with Hemingway, when us women are ill, we are seen as the illness. When those men are ill, they are martyrs, brave soldiers. We are sent away to a hospital. To get better. Do we get better? Do we get worse? I think we change, in and out, there is a change, no doubt.” Slow sips.

“I'M JUST A GIRL, THAT'S ALL THAT YOU'LL LET ME BEEEEEE--”

Syd's singing. Unprompted.

Syl laugh. She does on alcohol.

“Do you love him?” Virginal census.

“I think I love love,” first responders. “I think I love loving love. But do I love? I think I would love to.”

“Are you in love?”

“Is love something to you as it is to me? I love love as a being, in or out. Am I being in love? I am loving being.”

Hunched, secrets whispered, lungs scattered. Liquids spilled. Glass intact. Bile of much knotty bramble.

“With me,” virgin of the wolfs. “We have much to discuss in the toilets.”

Two ladies followed the vortex of a single file line toward a horizontal stadium of stalls for all to enter. Few leave 'til close. Moss turns, moss directional, director of dissection, wash basins full of mossy oak. Ultimate of bidets on display, only few take. Most wash, some sign off on air.

Some folk wondered what the house special of the night would be, others wondered who belonged to which gang, or which gang belonged to who. There were those who wondered what constituted ale and bourbon and who owned the bonbons.

“You're probably wondering why I decided to show my face tonight,” leader of a ton of sex, hands spread, pose in a alphabetical T.

Nobody wondered that.

“Have mercy...” Mumbling Annie chit-chattered, tiptoed through tapped toes. No one took notice.

“Our gang has received a mission. Simple one at that. Simple, poetic. Seek out a member of the church,”

Others mumbled. Muttered, even.

“I know some of my children are in the audience tonight. Sippin' on some whine, wine, whinge, chardonnay. I ask: who would be willing to make me proud? My dear husband, perhaps? Or maybe I'll return to the hospital and seek if one of the doctors would be willing to join my family,” toot, tort, ruptured spinal speech, with a hoot and a howl to boot mixed in with something afoul afoot.

Splash spot, stood up was fraught fair-minded resolute, daughter with resolve.

“I'll go.”

Crone critter crept forward, slithered toward child (adult as she were).

“Ah, yes. Annie, my dear daughter,” hands upon Annie's shoulder, only her shoulder. Only her shoulder. Still, a flinch. Nerves before determination. Flushed, relieved, two faces attached to complete figures emerged and heard.

“Knowing how she operates. Disgusting.” Silver leadership spoke up.

“No flame, no phoenix. Speak of passion, yet dejection,” verge in a wolf shared opinion.

“True leaders fight alongside their people, or better yet, be the first to die.”

“At the least, inspire passion.”

“Instead, modifications.”

More shivers, between Sylver (if ever her name), Annie (a face green of gables expressed), or the great wolf.

Outside of it all, smokers smoked in the smokers' lounge.

“Wanna go back inside?” One asked.

“Nah. Hear some of the gang leaders are in there.”

Shackled awe, tight spot for jaw.

“What would they be doing here?”

“As private as they are, leadership have every bit of access to ales and spirits as any of us.”

“Now that I think of it, Ernie's always there.”

“Ah yes, 'blood of a unicorn' kid.”

“Blood of a unicorn?”

“Very same one.”

“Damn. Blood of a unicorn. I've been to the woods once or twice. No unicorns spotted. Rabbit, yes.”

“Rabbit? In the woods?”

“Very live rabbit!”

“Rabbit?”

“Hopped along.”

“Deadass? Rabbit?”

“No, alive rabbit.”

“No way. Those haven't existed for a while.”

“Anyway, we should head back inside. Bar's about to close.”

“Still, a rabbit.”

Some shady men, couple in fact, hand in hand, looking inward. Last drinks ordered: Brisk Bristol bourbon and Tempura Tequila.

Soon after, or not long, rather seconds after counting down the hours, safety in numbers huddled from day-to-day monotony began to rain away as seconds ran dry, as did the barrels.

“My doors will close,” bartender took to announcing, image appearing within every visible area of the distracted establishment. “Get your asses out and have a lovely hunt.”

Hemingway leader set down a sturdy book.

“War is ongoing,” Ernie walked, stuck to a miniscule cycle.

“Yes, my friend,” tip of the bartending hat toward world weary pint.

Other nights, others less dry. For a street of blood, oft wanted is a lick of water.

[tyigoa]

How To Control Hair Loss?

Beautiful hair not only makes you good looking but also reflects your good health. They play a significant role in highlighting your personality and appearance. It is one of the most noticeable parts of the body. And when you start losing your good health then it is a serious matter of concern. It can result in losing your confidence too because beautiful hair boosts up your confidence. There are several factors that can be responsible for hair fall for example illness, stress, change in lifestyle and food, hormonal imbalance, etc. But there is no need to worry because you can reduce your hair fall with some yoga techniques and a healthy diet.

A Healthy Diet Can Boost Up Your Hair Growth:

In the case of hair loss, one should take a properly balanced diet that contains a lot of proteins. Here is a list of healthy food items that will encourage healthy hair growth:

Bottle gourd

Banana

Jaggery

Watermelon

It will not only promote your hair growth but also solve other hair problems and provide nourishment to your hair. Include the above-listed eatables in your diet and see the results.

Some Words Of Advice

Massage your scalp more often to improve blood circulation.

Detangle your hair with your fingers when they are wet instead of using a comb.

Do not provide too much heat to wet hair.

Focus on a good sleep routine. Sleep for a minimum of 6-7 hours every night.

Wash your hair with neem water at least once a week.

Practice Yoga Daily For Better Results

There are some yoga techniques that will improve the blood circulation to the head, maintains scalp hygiene, and solve many hair problems. The yoga techniques that will work effectively are listed below:

Padahastasana

Viparit Karni

Trikonasana

Bhastrika

Nadi Shodhan Pranayam

Hair Mask/Packs For Hair Growth:

There are many options in the market that can enhance hair growth. Hair masks are also one of the effective options that can improve the quality of hair and encourage hair growth. Some effective hair masks and their preparations are mentioned below:

Green Tea

This hair mask is really good and effective for hair roots and follicles and hence increases hair growth.

Constituents:

2 bags of green tea and 1 cup of water.

Procedure:

Boil 2 bags of green tea in 1 cup of water and leave it until it cools down.

Apply the mixture to your hair and rinse thoroughly after an hour.

Use it for 15 days for better results.

Amla Hair Pack

Amla is rich in Vitamin C that nourishes the hair follicles and is very effective in reducing hair loss and premature greying.

Constituents:

2 tbsp amla powder and 2 tbsp lime juice.

Procedure:

Mix amla powder and lime juice and apply to your scalp in the form of a paste.

Do not let the paste dry. Cover your head with a shower cap.

Wash it off.

Onion Juice Wash

Onion has vitamin E, C, and B complex. This promotes thicker, healthy, and shiny hair growth.

Constituents:

½ Onion.

Procedure:

Grind the onion and squeeze out its juice.

Take a piece of cotton and soak it in the onion juice and apply to your scalp.

Massage your scalp and leave it for 30-60 minutes.

Rinse thoroughly.

If you are facing hair problems, instead of lingering on and stressing more over it, start your healthy routine now. Start your yoga practice today and observe the difference.

We, at The Yoga Institute Goa, provides a 200-hour yoga teacher training course

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act X, #28 ~ Jack-O-Lantern (Dean & Sam Winchester)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life, Family, Comedy, Fluff, Autumn

Word Count: 1,393

Pairing: Dean, Reader, Sam

World: Supernatural

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

Life as a Winchester is hard, the bloodline cursed. Death, pain, sorrow… these were the common staples for the three Winchester siblings. There had been a few instances where one of you sought out happiness and normalcy, but it never lasted for long. The life always caught up to you. Still, you never gave up on trying to keep some semblance of normal in your life. The problem? Your older brother, Dean.

“Stop being so uptight,” you huffed, glaring at the eldest.

He glared back, folding his arms over his chest. “We’re not celebrating Halloween, Y/N. We’re here to do a job, not have fun.”

“The world isn’t going to implode from taking one day off,” you scoffed before muttering under your breath. “It’s more likely to implode if you’re actually working.”

“I said no and that’s final.”

“You’re such a jerk!” you slammed your hand on the small wooden table, making it shake. “You won’t even consider what me and Sammy want!”

Dean glanced at the middle child, who shifted before focusing his attention back on his laptop. “Maybe you shouldn’t speak up for others.”

“Traitor,” you muttered to Sam. “Fine. You never listen to what I want! It’s not fair, Dean!”

“Life’s not fair, Y/N.”

“Ugh!” you threw your hands up before stomping out of the motel room the three of you shared. Dean tried to stop you, but Sam shook his head.

Being a Winchester wasn’t easy, but being the youngest Winchester was even harder. Your brothers were super over-protective of you, especially Dean, and they never listened to your opinions or ideas. They never gave you a chance to shine because they were afraid something bad would happen to you.

You slid down the brick wall on the side of the motel, tears blurring your vision as you brought your knees to your chest. Halloween was a special time of year for you because it was the last time that all of you were genuinely happy. It was the last time your dad had smiled at you before he died.

Your body shook with sobs, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin like needles. You took the ring off your finger, holding it so tight against your palm that it was starting to hurt. “Dad I – I miss you so much…”

Dean and Sam shared a look as they hid around the corner, fighting back the urge to run over and comfort you. They knew it would only make you feel worse.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

You stepped into the convenience store, eyes scanning the Halloween decorations with a frown. It wasn’t extravagant or anything, but it was better than not decorating at all. You headed for the back of the store, grabbing a twenty-ounce bottle of your favorite drink before perusing the candy aisle. Most of the packaging was orange and purple, the candy itself shaped like spiders, witches, and pumpkins.

‘Guess this is as soon as its gonna get for me…’ you sighed, grabbing a few pieces of your favorite candy before heading to the register to pay, heading back out into the chilly October afternoon. The sky was covered by light grey clouds, rolling slowly by. Blue peaked out from a few breaks in the clouds. The ground was completely littered with torn leaves in shades of orange and yellow.

The trees were completely bare, mangled branches reaching toward the heavens. For you, that was an almost symbolic sight. You took a large gulp of the icy drink, the plastic bag on your wrist swaying with the movement. The store itself was only a block down from the motel you were staying at, which hadn’t bothered to put up a single decoration for the holiday. Not even a small pumpkin on the front desk.

Across from the motel was a pumpkin patch, which had been nearly picked bare, only a few bright pumpkins littering the path. A couple of people were wandering about, looking for a pumpkin last minute. Your eyes followed two kids, a boy and a girl, running around the path, looking for the perfect pumpkin for them to carve into a Jack-O-Lantern. Their dad followed behind, watching his children with a smile. It made your heart beat painfully in your breast, and you couldn’t help but feel jealous of them.

You slid the key into the motel door and pushed it open. The overwhelming scent of pumpkin spice hit your nostrils. Dean and Sam were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, three pumpkins sitting on the coffee table in front of them. The smell was coming from a candle flickering by the sink.

“We were beginning to worry that you had run away,” Dean joked, but you could see the worry and relief in his green eyes.

Sam smiled at you, patting the empty spot between them. “Come on, we’ve been waiting.”

“Guys…” your eyes teared up, the bag falling from your wrist and onto the ground.

Dean came over, pulling you into his warm embrace, his cheek resting on the top of your head. “I’m sorry for making you so upset. I don’t mean to disregard what you want, I just…”

“I know,” you sniffled, rubbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket. “You’re trying so hard to keep us safe. Our mom, dad, and older brother… I love you so much, Dean, and I really appreciate everything you do for us.” His eyes shined with tears, but he refused to let them fall. You grabbed his hand, tugging him over to the couch. “Let’s make it a competition. Best Jack-O-Lantern wins!”

“And the worst has to buy dinner,” Sam added. “The winner gets to choose what we all eat.”

Dean ruffled your hair, handing you his pocket knife. “Let’s do it!”

With a flick of your wrist, you opened the knife and cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin. Your brothers hesitated, but you stuck your hand straight in, the seeds and guts squishing between your fingers. Your face twisted in concentration and disgust as you cleaned out the insides.

“Done!” you flicked your hand to get the innards off your hand. A seed flew through the air, smacking Sam in the forehead and sticking to his skin. He scowled at you, pulling it from his skin and flicking it back at you. You dodged it with a laugh, smacking your sticky hand against his cheek.

“Gross! Ugh, it got in my mouth!” he spit onto the table, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He was about to say something else when his eyes flickered behind you. With a determined expression, he returned to his pumpkin.

You glanced back at Dean. ‘He’s already started carving?! Shoot!’ you cursed under your breath, slamming the pocket knife into the gourd. ‘I won’t lose!’

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

You stepped out of the shower with a content sigh, drying off and getting changed into some baggy clothes. Sam was sitting on the couch on his laptop, looking for another job, while Dean leaned against the round table, staring at the Jack-O-lanterns on the counter, candles illuminating the patterns carved into them. You hopped up onto the table, your eyes scanning the three.

The pumpkin on the left was Sam’s and he had delicately carved a small pumpkin with a squished face eating a salad. You chuckled at this.

The pumpkin on the right was Dean’s and he had crudely carved an anime girl inhaling a cheeseburger. You facepalmed at this.

The pumpkin in the center was yours and you had carved Dean’s precious impala with three people leaning against it. There were no features or details on the people, they were just shadows, but it was obvious to the three of you who they were.

You leaned your head on Dean’s shoulder with a smile, glancing up at him. “So who won?”

Dean smiled, throwing his arm around your shoulders in a side hug. “I think it’s pretty obvious who won, Y/N.”

Warmth filled you and your smile widened.

Dean’s smile turned into a smug grin. “I did.”

Your mouth hung open in shock as he headed toward the bathroom for his shower.

“Your face,” Sam snorted in laughter, clutching his stomach.

You huffed in annoyance, puffing out your cheeks and folding your arms over your chest as you turned your head away from him. ‘Idiots,’

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

[blog-healthytips]

14 reasons lauki is an incredibly healthy vegetable!

Benefits Of Bottle Gourd Juice

01/14Health benefits of lauki

Regarded as one of the healthiest veggies, bottle gourd or lauki or doodhi in India is a powerhouse of nutrients and health benefits. High on water and rich in vitamins and minerals, bottle gourd is also an effective home remedy for many health issues. So, if you are the one who prefers home remedies over medicines, then this humble green veggie truly deserves space in your kitchen.

02/14Cures constipation

Rich in dietary fibre, bottle gourd is easy to digest and is helpful in curing constipation and even piles. According to Ayurveda, serving it with curd works as an effective remedy.

03/14Promotes weight loss

According to a research, 100 grams of bottle gourd contains 15 calories and is also low in saturated fats and cholesterol. It is packed with dietary fibres and keeps you full for long and thus promotes weight loss.

04/14Ideal thirst quencher

Bottle gourd contains approx 96% of water and that’s the reason it is considered a perfect thirst quencher. It also prevents fatigue, especially during summers.

Check Also : Lauki Ka Juice

05/14 Cures urinary infections

Nothing can beat the benefits of freshly squeezed bottle gourd juice. According to health experts, fresh juice along with some lemon juice is considered one of the best home remedies to treat urinary tract infections. But you should not drink this juice without consulting your doctor.

06/14 Keeps heart healthy

Having a bowl of boiled lauki daily helps in lowering blood cholesterol levels and thus keeps the heart healthy.

07/14Relieves stress

It is rich in ‘choline’– a kind of neurotransmitter that improves the functioning of the brain and thus prevents stress and depression too.

Check Also : Benefits Of Bottle Gourd

08/14 Regulates blood pressure

Rich in sodium, potassium and other essential minerals, bottle gourd in form of a dish or juice helps regulate blood pressure.

09/14Control diabetes

Considered as a wonder food for diabetic people, it has a negligible amount of glucose and sugar-related compounds. It is also very satiating.

10/14Boosts liver

Lauki is also believed to be good for the smooth functioning of liver. It also helps in treating grey hair.

11/ 14 Regulates sleep

Regulates sleep

If you don’t know, massaging scalp with bottle gourd juice and sesame oil mixture is an effective remedy for insomnia.

Check Also : Bottle Gourd Benefits

12/ 14Cures asthma

Cures asthma

Consuming bottle gourd on a daily basis also helps cure bronchitis, cough and asthma infections.

13/ 14 Cures jaundice

Cures jaundice

According to medical science and even Ayurveda, lauki is an effective way to enhance the metabolism of the body of those suffering from jaundice.

14/ 14 Recovers sodium content

Recovers sodium content

If you are an athlete, consuming bottle gourd helps in preventing excessive loss of sodium from the body.

[ziggydageek-blog]

Unlikely Bedfellows

“How the FUCK did you get in here?!” wand gripped, sparks flew from the tip. “Easy now, Sparky…” croaked the skeleton of Sirius Black. His dark matted hair came to the crooks of his arms, where he held his hands up in surrender. “Look; I’ve got no wand on me.” The revelation did little to ease my mind or my posture. Wand up, I repeated the question. “You know, you’re a lot calmer than I had expected,” What should’ve been a grin on a healthier man looked slightly deranged on the gaunt features of the escaped convict. “Oh, so you’ve had this planned??” The words came out more hysterically than I intended. “Actually… yeah..” The same smirk was painted across face. “Unless you’re thinking of ending it all right here, I suggest you lower your wand.. what would Dumbledore say if he knew you were treating a guest so shabbily?” I scoffed, “I’m sure Dumbledore would love to hear your complaint; especially since you’re the reason those dementors are creeping around his castle.” For the first time, Sirius moved. Slowly, his arms dropped to his side keeping eye contact all the while. There was a look in his eyes, daring me to curse him all while knowing I wouldn’t dare. “You’re avoiding the question; how did you get in here? And what are you doing?? Your face is plastered everywhere!!” “Ha!” He barked, “What are you gonna do? Turn me in?” His devil may care attitude, tho highly irritating, drew me in. In spite of my better instinct, I lowered my wand. “It’s not my job to get mixed up in foreign politics,” sliding the wand back in the front of my robes, I joined him, cautiously, at the table Dumbledore and I had so shortly sat at previously. “Well look at you; brains AND beauty..” The amusement was distinguishable. The more he spoke, the less hoarse his voice sounded. I myself still unamused, asked again, “how did you get in here?” The grin faded slightly but didn’t entirely disappear. “Simply put, in an animagus; the dog you’ve been letting in?” Leaning back in the seat he occupied, hands nonchalantly thrown up, he pointed at himself with his extended thumbs. Anger aside, a sense of amazement came over me. “An animagus?? Unregistered, I’m assuming, but none the less that’s some incredibly advanced magic.. I’ve only ever read about cases…” subconsciously I knelt forward on the table. Sensing my excitement, the haunting grin was back in full force. For the first time since wed talked, some life came to his grey eyes; eyes I had become familiar with. “Wanna see?” The amused tone drew me in as much as the actual act I hoped to witness. Unable to contain myself, I nodded. Before my eyes, I watched the man sprout hair; the hair he already had grew coarser and coated his bare skin. In a matter of moments, I had before me Shaggy, the enormous mutt I’d grown accustomed to having in front of my fire place. “Christ almighty…” escaped my lips. In no time, I was again greeted by the frail frame of a once handsome man. He eyed me suspiciously. “Honesty, you’re handling this a lot better than even I anticipated.” Shoulders shrugged, I answered, “As long as you’re unarmed.. you’ve made no attack on me and honestly, selfishly, I’ve had stranger occur in my life. The fact that I’m Aquarius may also have something to do with-” but before I could finish the sentence, a bark came from Sirius, a sound that could’ve been laughter if it lost its biting edge. “An aqueduct, aye?” His bark continued, til he spoke again, “God, they weren’t kidding about you Americans! Still believing in all that star rubbish?” Those grey eyes filled with what looked awfully similar to contempt. “Really? ‘Us Americans’? You should know, astrology has its merits..” paused, my eyes met his and my heart made a strange papilation. Taking a mental note to get that checked out, I continued with, “perhaps if you read your Horoscope more often, you wouldn’t be in such a shit fest, huh? What is it they’re after you for anyways? I’ve heard you escaped their prison hear, which is apparently unheard of.” Emotions flashed across Sirius’s strained face, which ranged from incredulous to offended to slightly amused back to credulous. “How long have you even been here?” he finally asked, the offense in his voice hard to mask.. if he were even trying. In my head I counted before I concluded, “less than a year now? I mean, I hear talk at the bar-” “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t take to heart much of what you hear down there,” he growled, so low on almost thought he had transformed back into dog form. Taken aback, I sat and watched; how he could be so at ease was only proof that it was his natural state. “I escaped, yeah, but I shouldn’t have been in in the first place,” his eyes broke contact. The crumb on the table was seen for but a moment before Sirius snatched it up.

Realizing at once how rude it was not to, i offered him the remainder of my Firewhiskey. “Shit, I’m so sorry, you’re obviously starved! Can I offer you..?“with a wave of my wand, I casted the summoning charm, and brought forth all that my cupboards had to offer. Thankful, Sirius reached for the loaf of bread; unable to wait for a knife , his hands tore chunks off and shoveled them in. Unable to find offense at such behavior, a patience came over me. Between mouthfuls, Sirius gulped the Firewhiskey in a way that would’ve brought tears to my eyes. "You’ll have to forgive me..” I started. “I’m not much of a cook; most of my mealtimes are spent down at the Three Broomsticks..” With a mouthful of bread, Sirius muttered what sounded enough like “I know.” Swallowing hard, he finished, “I’ve bore witness to your daily habits, remember?” That smirk that had started to grow more human and thus more alluring by the moment took over his face. I blushed; of course, he knew more of me than I was even I was aware of. “Oh…” I muttered, then summoned another mug of Firewhiskey myself. This particular bottle was stronger than any other I’d had; the little bit that I’d had with Dumbledore could still be felt and perhaps was part of the reason I hadn’t attacked Sirius. My head felt fuzzy, as though the beginnings of tunnel vision would fall shortly upon me if I wasn’t careful. I could tell by his eased manner, Sirius was starting to feel the effects as well. Unspoken, I refilled his mug. “Raised by muggles?” he asked, having consumed the entire loaf; to his left lay a can of chicken noodle soup. Raising it, he offered it to me to open. Beneath my breathe, I muttered a charm, opening the tip for his consumption. “I’m sorry, and I’d you say ‘muggle’?” Confused, I reflected in the term as he gulped the entire can, cold. “Ahhhhh, that’s right,” he laughed, then went on to say, “you Yanks have another word for em, don’t ya?” Finally, I understood, “OH duh! Yeah, we call em non-maj! Ha, what makes you ask that?” Head nodded toward the mugs, he answered,“ you do little things that others would do by magic; filling those mugs by hand for instance.” Embarrassed, I felt compelled to explain, “America isn’t as large as.. over here. Our purely magical communities are a lot smaller than these and as a result, we’ve had to.. acclimate.. where we could. ‘Whenever possible, always go the non-maj route’ I grew up hearing.” Sirius studied me; his eyes squinted slightly in concentration. Curiosity and the ever present hint of arrogance were exuded from his very person. Finally, he spoke, “You’d be a Ravenclaw if you had gone to Hogswart.” Taken aback, I stuttered, “ughhh thanks.. not too sure if that’s a compliment..?” Chuckling, he leaned back in his seat. “Oh, it’s a compliment; the smart ones all go to Ravenclaw.” I knew from my mother that Ilvermony had four Houses for the student in attendance. I assumed this was what he was getting at. “Gourd avoiding the question,” I answered after another gulp of my drink. The fuzziness in my mind was becoming more pronounced and I took joke to slow it down. His attitude changed minutely, but enough that I senses the shift. “Like i said,” the growl in his voice had an edge of menace and I was at once reminded of the shaggy dog, “I didn’t deserve to be in there.” There was a spark in his eye as he spoke. He too pulled once more from his mug, then continued with, “I spent 12 years in Azkaban for a crime I didn’t committ, against a man I’d rather have died for than betrayed.” The fire in his voice had no competition with the synthetic our mugs held. Enthralled and slightly scared, I decidedly drank the rest of my mug and sat back for what I’d waited the last hour to hear. “What do you know of your father?” He asked fiercely. Gulping, I shook my head fervently. “Little to nothing,” I whispered. “Hmmm,” he scoffed, unamused. “Well, let me fill you in…”

[punchfacefist]

Ima Learns to Cook

          Imara'el Lightsong wasn't one to make decisions lightly. He spent the better part of one day contemplating which hammer would have a better effect on the metal he was turning into a pair of boots for an Orc. The decision was taken out of his hands when one of the other smiths finally snatched one of his two choices away from him. Of course, naturally, the boots came out amazing, which only speaks to Imara'el's pride at the forge. His mind was elsewhere, at present. He made a decision, and of course, he intended to go through with it. All he needed, however, was Istaniel's second opinion.          "You want to learn to cook?" Stan asked, still in disbelief of the choice, "Dare I ask what even brought this on?"          "I think it'd be a good idea to finally learn to cook, is all," Imara'el shrugged, "I mean, it'd be a useful skill now that I'm on my own, and I don't want to just rely on tavern food or pillage enemy supplies for survival. Plus it'd be good to impress a girl with such an ability."          "Oh," Istaniel nodded, finally catching on to Imara'el's intentions, "that's what this is about, isn't it? You want to impress that Chronomancer, what's-her-name."          "Melmoira," Imara'el filled in the name for his brother.          "Trust me, she's not gonna be impressed with you cooking food," Stan tapped the bar with his empty cup and the Troll behind the counter, Gravy, refilled it from a bottle of red-tinted glass. Imara'el leaned onto the bar, staring at the still half-full glass clenched between his fingers with little thought and looked back over to his brother.          "I just think she's right for me, Stan," he said, "she's sweet, she's beautiful, I really like her; and I... I haven't liked a girl since Lariah." Stan finished his drink and gestured Gravy away from refilling his glass.          "That must be hard for you to say, brother," Stan clapped a hand to Ima's shoulder. Ima gave a solemn, silent nod.          "Alright, fine," Stan said finally to alleviate the seriousness, "If you want to cook for Melmoira, go ahead. Go learn. I hear there's a class being held in Bilgewater Harbor. Pretty cheap entrance fee."           In two days, Imara'el had finished filling out the nondisclosure waivers, consent forms, insurance forms, and finally purchased the appropriate class attire (which cost him extra) and stood in the room with eight other such students. Among them, Imara'el gauged, were three orcs, two Goblins, a very feral-looking Troll, a Tauren who seemed just as unsure of himself as Ima, and an Ogre, whose apron hung around his neck more like a bib than an actual apron. They all had their own individual table, and a small stove beside them. The other students talked amongst themselves, the orcs were rowdy, laughing by slapping one another with the flank of raw meat on their tables. The ogre picked up the chef's knife, which was proportionately tiny in his fat fingers, inspecting it, accidentally pricking his finger on it. The Troll crouched atop his table, raw meat in his hands, and tearing at it hungrily.          "All right, all right, settle down, class is in session!" the shout came from the front door, which in walked two new people; one was a Goblin, looking professional in his own chef's coat with gold sewn into the cuffs and collar, with jeweled buttons; and the second being a robust Kul Tiran woman, robust more so in her bosom, she was rosy-cheeked and her hair tied up in a loosening bun, dressed in a blue chef's coat. She swayed once she stood still, Ima deduced from the wine bottle clenched in her hand.          "All right, we'll be your teachers for the next week," the goblin spoke up again, "I'm Gamrod Ronsey, this is Julie Schilde. Welcome to your first class. today we're gonna learn to sear some meat. Locate your flank of meat on the table. If you have already eaten your uncooked slice of meat, we will supply you with another, and if necessary, an escort  to the nearest facility for medical attention, I don't know why you would eat it raw, you're disgustin'." The Troll glanced around sheepishly. "Was 'ungreh," he grumbled. Imara'el followed the directions as they came; set a pan on the stove's single burner, add oil and let it heat until it sizzled. While he did that, he rubbed the meat with mixture of salt and herbs, before slicing it neatly into even strips. The pan was heated, and he placed each one at a time onto the pan. That's what it looked like in his head, anyway. He vigorously applied the rub to the point it tore and mangled the meat into a twisted mess that almost looked like it cried out for the sweet release of death from its horrific existence. It was even less successful with slicing it neatly; he tore chunks off with inelegant knife strokes, hacking at it like his knife was a hammer on metal. He flicked each piece into the over-oiled pan, causing a splash of hot oil onto the hapless Goblin couple beside him. His plate was smoldering, charred black, and tasted like over-seasoned melted rubber, according to Gamrod and Julie. Istaniel laughed when the first day of class was recounted over a drink.          "It's not that funny," Imara'el stubbornly grumbled.          "It kind of is," Stan let the laughter die down after a breath. "You're going back again, right?"          "I'm not giving up on this!" Imara'el pounded a fist onto the counter. "I'm going to be the best damn cook for Melmoira, and she's going to enjoy my food!"          "You know," Stan let a thought occur to him, "I've been told that the Pandaren are really damn good at cooking. Maybe they'd be better teachers?" Ima scoffed. "Not going back to Pandaria," he grunted, "that place is crazy."          The week went by and Imara'el found himself once more in the classroom, surrounded on all sides with the familiar faces from last week, in exception for the feral troll. Gamrod and Julie called attendance, noting the troll, Tekkzam, came down with a case of food poisoning or something of the like. Ima wondered if the fact he was eating raw meat might have been the cause of that.          "Gamrod's class last week seemed to be rather," Julie trailed off a moment in thought, "too advanced. In preparation of the lesson today, we'll make something easier to ascertain certain students' skill level." Ima had a feeling she referred to him in that. Gamrod walked the perimeter of the room, turning corner on his right and stopped at a cabinet in front of him. He fiddled with a set of keys and opened the heavy padlock, swinging the cabinet doors open.          "This here is the ingredients cabinet." Gamrod turned to face the students watching him, "After careful deliberation and, eh, professional advisement, I'm going to open the one cabinet I never allowed any previous students to have access to. In my collective fifteen-and-three-quarter years in food service education, I have never once let any student use this cabinet ever." Julie gave instruction of what ingredients to gather, Ima took his time to let others go first, deciding the two rowdy Orcs gather their items before him.          "Today's dish is a hearty fish soup hailing from a Vrykul fishing village in Northrend," Julie introduced the dish of the lesson.          Ima started following the directions as they came, he dropped a lump of butter into the pot, adding in vegetables and stirring them until they softened.          "Now, add the broth and water," Gamrod directed, going over his papers. Ima looked at the red tin can he took from the cabinet, marked with a skull and crossbones. He pulled off the lid, and a foul smell escaped from the container that made Ima wrinkle his nose in disgust. Gamrod's own nose picked up the smell and looked horrified at Ima as he dumped the liquid contents into the heated pan.          "No, you fool!" Gamrod exclaimed too late, "That's rocket fuel!"          All that remained of the building was a smoldering crater, debris rained well across all of Azshara, some bits as far as the eastern borders of Ashenvale forest, some pieces still have yet to reenter the atmosphere. Imara'el survived by the grace of the Light shielding him from the vaporizing blast. The other students survived, albeit with extensive injury, only for finding cover at the last moment. All that remained of Gamrod were his boots, which were smoking, and his shadow burned into the ground where he last stood. Julie was never found. Istaniel found it absolutely hilarious.          "Come now," a new voice asked from behind Imara'el as he attempted crawling inside the bottle of Silvermoon Port, "why the long face, friend?" Imara'el turned to face the voice, meeting the Pandaren standing behind him. He was clad in exotic designs of jade fabrics, a monk's staff clutched in his right paw, and a dried, bulbous gourd in his other.          "Days have not been good to me," Ima grumbled. The Pandaren leaned his staff against the bar counter, taking a seat beside the downtrodden Blood-Elf and took a swig from his gourd.          "Days do not favor any one person over others," the Pandaren offered some wisdom, "it is what you do with your time during that shapes how it goes." Imara'el scoffed at that. "I've done enough with my time to know I'll never cook." The Pandaren looked over at him, crestfallen now with hearing such a terrible proclamation of defeat.          "Anyone can cook," the Pandaren offered some semblance of reassurance.          "Not me," Imara'el insisted, "I've screwed up so much, I don't think I can ever cook anything edible, so there's no point in trying."          "We all make mistakes," the Pandaren asserted, "so we can learn from them, friend. That is how we grow."          "No one in Kalimdor is going to teach me after what I did," Imara'el sighed.          "Have you tried Pandaria?" the Pandaren suggested, "I know some fine folk at Halfhill with great skill and great patience willing to take on an apprentice." Imara'el looked up, half-drunk, at the grey and white furry face looking over at him on the bar.          "Y'really think so?" he asked. The Pandaren held out a small gold coin, a lotus engraved on one side, and a hearthstone's rune on the other. "Take this to Halfhill," he directed, "And tell them Xumqi Lotusdraught sent you. You will learn, friend, and you will be surprised how much you will learn from them." Imara'el took the coin in his fingers and looked it over. He looked up from the coin, to thank the Pandaren, only to find himself alone in the tavern now.

[juniperpublishers-jojha-blog]

New Trends in International Vegetables and Small Farm Production JUNIPER PUBLISHERS-OPEN ACCESS JOURNAL Of JOJ Horticulture & Arboriculture (JOJHA) Author: Arvazena Clardy Introduction The number of International citizens from Asian, Indian, African, Middle Eastern and Caribbean countries now residing in various locations in the U.S. has grown. These new residents desire their traditional vegetables which are not typically grown in the United States. Vegetable farmers and producers, especially in the southern states are small and struggling to remain viable, they need to create and identify new markets to increase their income. At, Tennessee State University we have been researching these alternative niche vegetables and working with small and limited producers state wide with trying to develop new markets to increase income opportunities. I believe we can bridge this gap for the small producers with growing International Vegetables. Over the past few years, we have been producing various varieties of Lagenaria siceraria “Bottle Gourd”; Momordica charantia “Bitter Melon”; and Praecitrullus fistulosus, “Tinda”. All these vegetables are in Cucurbitaceae family. Bitter Melon, Bottle Gourd and Tinda have been identified to contain herbal/ medicinal properties for assisting with reducing inflammation, reduction of blood pressure, provide anti-anxiety effects and diabetes prevention in some individuals who consumer these vegetables. These vegetables are highly nutritional, tasty and low in calories, which could assist in fighting obesity in America where we presently rank number 1 world-wide in the Top 10 industrialized countries and 9th in the Top 10 of all countries (33.9%) and Tennessee ranks 9th in the nation at 30.8%. In the spring of 2013, we started growing Lagenaria siceraria “Bottle and Calabash Gourds”, Momordica charantia “Bitter Melon” and Praecitrullus fistulosus “Tinda” was added in 2014 to our field test trials for evaluating for growth and production of International vegetable varieties in Tennessee. Tennessee has a large immigrant population from Middle East, Africa, Asia and India, these communities desire fresh vegetables native to their areas. However, the local groceries and markets do not carry these vegetables and in the local International stores consumers don’t know how fresh these vegetables are since the shelf life of these fresh vegetables are very short. Many of these are at the end of their shelf life, when they arrive at these stores. Tennessee small farms as in most of the Southern States are seeing a decline, Tennessee has approximately 68,050 in 2012 according to USDA Censes and 70% of Tennessee small farms had annual sales less than $10,000 according to the Tennessee Department of Agriculture, therefore we see bridging the small farmer with international vegetable sales in Tennessee, as a winwin situation and for other southern states and growers Figure 1. [Click here to view Large Figure 1] Momordica charantia, Bitter Melon (fruit and leaves) has been used as an herbal medicine/supplement in Asia, Africa and India countries. The benefit from Bitter Melon consumption is to relieve diabetes, digestive problems, as a laxative, heart problems, anti-cancer properties, anti-aging, skin infections, regulates blood flow, respiratory diseases, wounds, gout, ulcers, rheumatism and slows hair greying. When consumed in juice or raw form, Bitter Melon can lower blood glucose levels but does not significantly decrease fasting blood glucose levels or A1C, when taken in a capsule or table form (Ooi, Yassin, and Hamid, 2012). However, once the India variety is harvested from the plant, the shelf life is limited to 3 to 5 days. Popular varieties include Chinese and India; the Chinese variety has smooth skin and is not as bitter as the India variety with a bumpy texture. However, from our research the Chinese variety has a longer shelf life on the vine and after harvested is averaging up to a week longer Figure 2. [Click here to view Large Figure 2] Lagenaria siceraria, Bottle Gourd have an exceptional healing health benefits, especially on high blood pressure, heart disease, liver functions, when mixed with lime juice relieves the burning sensation in the urinary passages. Bottle gourd must be cooked before consumption. The juice of bottle gourd is extremely popular for weight loss. This South Asian squash is indeed bottle shaped, light green and long. The flesh inside is spongy and you can also cut it into small pieces and make a curry out of it. Bottle gourd or Lauki is over 90% water therefore, it is easy to digest. Traditional Indian medicine recommends cooked Lauki or bottle gourd for better digestion. It is cooling, calming, diuretic and anti-bilious. Like cranberries, bottle gourd or Lauki supports the urinary system of our body by reducing burning sensation from high acidic urination. It also reduces the chances of urinary infection because it is alkalizing and has a diuretic effect. Bottle gourd contains many vitamins and minerals, such as, calcium, magnesium, phosphorus, Vitamin A, C and folate. Bottle gourd is extremely popular for reducing high blood pressure and keeping your heart healthy and combat excessive thirst in diabetic patients and supports healthy digestion and combats flatulence and combats constipation. In traditional Indian medicine Bottle Gourd was used in the prevention of premature greying of the hair. With a pinch of sea salt it maintains the electrolyte balance in the body and a remedy for diarrhea and reduces liver inflammation Figure 3. [Click here to view Large Figure 3] Praecitrullus fistulosus, also known as Tinda is a famous vegetable of South Asia, known as apple gourd, Indian baby pumpkin and Indian round gourd. Tinda is a light summer vegetable which is low in calories and a great source of thiamine, niacin, riboflavin, fiber, carbohydrates and energy. The health benefits of Tinda; breast and prostate cancer; heart healthy-low calorie and regulates your cholesterol and blood pressure. Tinda can also assist in weight loss and digestion, Tinda is alkaline in nature which regulates digestion and prevents constipation and acid formation in the stomach. Tinda contains carotene which slows down aging symptoms wrinkles, fine lines and remove acne scars and blemishes. (Raw data) 2016 production for field and greenhouse Bitter Melon produced, excluding fruit which was under developed or over developed, was 1,455 and the overall weight was 388.55 pounds/176,243.43 grams from 60 plants outside (30 plants per row) and 24 plants greenhouse (42 India and 42 Chinese varieties, total of 84 plants). The India varieties produces 780 pieces of fruit and the Chinese variety produced 675 pieces of fruit. However, the Chinese variety produced heavier fruit (average 158.008 per grams) over the India variety (average 89.215 per grams). With Bitter Melon priced between $3 and $4.50 a pound from 60 plants a producer would have made between $1,165.65 and $1,748.48, therefore, if a small producer planted around 20 rows, his profit would be close to $18,000, depending on the cost per pound and the limited amount of produce, the profit margin could be quite prosperous. These vegetables are not new to the International communities; they are new to mainstream American citizens and to the vegetable farming/producers. In healthy individuals, those struggling with obesity and in people who are trying to make better food choices, these vegetables could assist in disease prevention, obesity and provide an alternative selection from traditional vegetables. While providing an alternative market to producers to increase their incomes. For more Open Access Journals in Juniper Publishers please click on: https://juniperpublishers.com For more articles in JOJ Horticulture & Arboriculture (JOJHA) please click on: https://juniperpublishers.com/jojha/index.php For more Open Access Journals please click on: https://juniperpublishers.com

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11 Home Remedies for Grey Hair 2019

Hair turns grey when the hair follicles produce less melanin. Melanin is the pigment which gives natural color to your hair. Greying hair is a natural process and happens with aging.

Genetics also play a vital role in the greying of hair. You can’t change your genes but you can certainly postpone early greying with the help of home remedies.

Grey Hair Causes 

Vitamin B12 deficiency

Increased levels of hydrogen peroxide

Low production of melanin

Low levels of catalase

Free radicals in our body

Higher stress levels

Best Home Remedies to Prevent Hair Greying

#1. Amla (Indian Gooseberry) for Grey Hair

Amla is a natural coolant which pacifies the excess pitta (causing premature greying) in the body and thereby reduce greying of hair. Amla also helps renew pigmentation in hair and makes the hair darker and thicker.

The antioxidants in amla play an important role in neutralizing free radicals that can cause hair fall and greying and thereby act as preventive agents.

The phytonutrients and minerals present in the amla increase scalp circulation which strengthens your hair follicles and promotes healthy hair growth making amla an excellent hair tonic.

How to use

Cut 5-6 fresh amla into small pieces

Soak the amla overnight in an iron utensil using 2 glass of water

Strain the water on the next morning

Take 3-4 teaspoon of this water and add to a cup of water (Based on the hair length you can increase the ratio)

Shampoo your hair and then rinse with this amla water (Don’t rinse with plain water again)

Apply 2 times a week for effective results

#2. Black Tea as Home Remedy for Grey Hair

The black tea gives a melanin and keratin boost to your hair which restores the natural pigment of your hair thereby effectively covers your grey hair.

The tannic acid present in black tea darkens your grey hair over a period of time. Similarly, caffeine in black tea stops the production of DTH hormones and prevents hair fall. The more you rinse hair with black tea the more you will see the effect.

How to use

Boil 2 teaspoons black tea leaves in 2 cups of water

Allow the tea leaves simmer for 5 minutes

Pour the solution in a bowl and keep aside to cool

Strain the solution (If your hair is long then transfer the solution in a spray bottle)

Apply the solution on hair and leave for 1 hour (increase the time based on your hair length)

Rinse your hair off with cold water (Don’t shampoo your hair after this)

Apply 2 times a week for effective results

#3. Onion Juice as Home Remedy

The catalase enzyme and the antioxidants in onion juice neutralize hydrogen peroxide and help reverse the effect of premature greying of hair. The antibacterial properties help fight infections of the scalp which in turn helps reduce hair fall.

Onion juice acts as a follicle stimulator when applied to the scalp increases the blood circulation to hair follicles and hence contributes to hair growth.

How to use

Make a juice of 1 small onion, apply on hair root

Leave for 30-40 minutes

Wash your hair with a mild shampoo

Apply twice a week for effective results

Optional: You can also mix coconut oil with onion juice

#4. Curry Leaves with Coconut Oil for Grey Hair

Curry leaves are a rich source of beta-carotene and proteins thus increase hair growth and reduce hair loss. The leaves also contain amino acids and antioxidants which strengthen the hair follicles thereby promote healthy hair growth.

The vitamin B in curry leaves nourish and strengthen the hair roots thereby restore the natural melanin pigment of the hair.

How to use

Boil 1 cup of coconut oil and a handful of fresh curry leaves in a bowl

Remove from flame when you see the formation of dark residue

Strain the oil out and allow the mix to cool

Apply directly onto your scalp and leave for an hour

Wash your hair with a mild shampoo

Apply twice a week and get rid of your grey hair

#5. Shikakai to Prevent Grey Hair

The vitamin C and antioxidants in shikakai helps promote healthy and quick hair growth by giving your scalp a collagen boost. The vitamins also provide necessary micro-nutrients to the hair follicle to nourish hair and grow fast and healthy.

The essential nutrients present in shikakai keeps your hair healthy, prevent breakage and brittleness thereby prevent hair loss. Shikakai is an excellent remedy to regain your hair’s lustrous thickness and length.

How to use

Grind 4-5 shikakai pods finely and add 1/2 cup of curd

Mix them properly and apply on the scalp

Leave for 15 minutes

Wash your hair with a mild shampoo

Apply every alternate day and see the results within a week

#6. Henna as Home Remedy for Grey Hair

Henna’s antibacterial and antifungal properties help maintain scalp health. Henna removes the excess oil from your hair and unclogs the pores.

Henna also balances pH levels of the scalp and thus strengthen hair follicles. Henna is thus helpful in preventing hair loss, improving hair elasticity and promoting healthy hair growth. Henna not only helps in growing hair faster but also improves hair texture.

How to use

Boil 2-3 teaspoons black tea leaves in water

Keep it aside for cooling and then strain the mix

Add 4 teaspoons pure henna powder to the strained water

Add 1 teaspoon lemon juice and 1 teaspoon amla powder

Mix to form a smooth paste (based on the length of hair you can adjust the quantity of amla and henna powder)

Keep the paste overnight for 8 hours

Apply on hair section by section

Leave for 1-5 hours until the paste dries up

Rinse with cold water (don’t apply shampoo immediately)

After 2-3 days you can wash your hair with a mild shampoo

Apply once in a month

#7. Black Sesame Seeds for Grey Hair

The essential fatty acids in sesame seeds such as omega-3, omega-6 and omega-9 promote hair growth. They also promote hair growth by nourishing, conditioning and promoting a healthy scalp.

The antioxidants present in the black sesame seeds can neutralize the effect of free radicals thereby prevent greying of hair. The essential minerals in sesame seeds also prevent greying of hair.

The calcium and manganese in sesame seeds help to keep the scalp healthy and prevent hair loss. Black sesame seeds promote melanocyte activity to produce melanin and thus restore the hair color.

How to use

Eat a tablespoon of black sesame seeds daily.

Follow this for at least 3 months for better results

#8. Sage and Rosemary to Cure Grey Hair

Sage oil increases the blood circulation onto your scalp and improves hair follicle formation thereby promotes healthy hair growth. The antioxidants in sage leaves also help to prevent and reduce the formation of new grey hair.

Rosemary oil has high nutritional value and anti-inflammatory properties which help in nourishing the hair follicles. Which results in increasing the blood supply in the scalp which in turn enhances hair growth.

Also, rosemary oil has the ability to prevent and stop the spread of grey hair. Both Sage and Rosemary used in combination helps prevent greying of hair.

How to use

Boil 2 cups of water and add a handful of sage leaves

Boil further for 2 more minutes

Use the strainer and pour the sage tea in a bowl

Add 3-5 drops of rosemary essential oil in the poured liquid

Allow the mixture to cool and then apply on your hair

Leave for 10 minutes and then rinse with a mild shampoo

Initially apply weekly, once you achieved the desired darkness then use once every two weeks

#9. Blackstrap Molasses

Blackstrap molasses is a rich source of antioxidants which reduces free radicals allowing the hair to grow smoother and longer. The rich vitamin and mineral content of blackstrap molasses improves overall hair health and help with the growth of the hair.

Blackstrap molasses contains copper which help nourish your hair by giving structure to collagen. Which also encourages melanin production that helps in hair pigmentation and thus helps restores hair color.

How to use

Procedure 1: Blackstrap molasses on hair

Rinse your hair with warm water and squeeze out the excess moisture

Apply 1/4 cup of molasses from the scalp to the tip of the hair

Leave for 30 minutes and then rinse with a mild shampoo

Apply 2 times a week

Procedure 2: Consumption of Blackstrap molasses

Consume a teaspoon of molasses every alternate day for few months regularly

#10. Ribbed Gourd

Ribbed gourd or Ridge gourd is one of the most effective home remedy for treating grey hair. Ridge gourd contains enzymes that restore the pigment in the root of the hair. They also help in strengthening your hair roots and thus prevent hair loss.

How to use

Dry 1 cup of the chopped pieces of ribbed gourd out in the sun

Soak the dried pieces in 1 cup of coconut oil for 3-4 days

Later boil the pieces in the coconut oil for 6 minutes

Allow the mixture to cool and strain the oil and collect in a bowl or bottle

Massage your scalp with this oil from root to tips

Leave the oil for 45 minutes and then rinse with a mild shampoo

Apply 2-3 times a week (follow this for 3-4 weeks)

#11. Bhringraj to Prevent Grey Hair

Bhringraj improves the blood circulation to the scalp which ensures nourishment of hair resulting in healthy hair growth. Bhringraj also helps in soothing the scalp and prevents hair fall related to stress.

Bhringraj contains haritaki which helps in restoring your hair color back and stopping premature greying of hair. They also contain hair-vitalising herbs which can prevent premature greying and help in dealing with hair loss.

How to use

Mix 1 teaspoon of Bhringraj, Brahmi, and Amla powder equally in a bowl

Add the appropriate amount of water and make a paste

Apply onto the scalp and leave for 20-30 minutes

Wash your hair with a mild shampoo

Conclusion

The home remedies for grey hair restores the natural hair color, improves overall hair health and delays hair greying.

These remedies don’t bring a sudden change but regular use produces the best results. They are 100% safe and treat the hair without chemicals and additives.

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