#Lehenga skirt US

[samkkshopping]

The Perfect Designer Lehenga Outfits for Your Wedding!!

Introduction:

Planning a wedding entails numerous decisions, each crucial in shaping your big day. Among these, selecting the perfect bridal designer lehenga holds a significant place. With the plethora of options available, finding the ideal wedding designer lehenga can be both exciting and overwhelming. From traditional to contemporary designs, each piece reflects elegance and grace, making the bride feel like royalty on her special day. Discover the latest Lehenga Choli Latest Designs and explore our exquisite Bridal Lehenga Designer Collection. Dive into the realm of High Fashion Lehengas for Weddings and uncover the beauty of Custom Made Designer Lehengas for Brides. At Samyakk.com, your ultimate destination for bridal couture, we’re here to make your dream wedding ensemble a reality. Join us as we embark on this journey through the world of Indian Wedding Outfits.

Importance of Choosing the Right Lehenga

Your wedding lehenga is more than just a piece of clothing; it symbolizes tradition, culture, and personal style. Welcome to our blog where we delve into the enchanting world of Wedding Designer Lehengas. From timeless classics to Trendy Lightweight Lehenga Cholis, we’ve got you covered. Discover the latest Lehenga Choli Latest Designs and explore our exquisite Bridal Lehenga Designer Collection. Dive into the realm of High Fashion Lehengas for Weddings and uncover the beauty of Custom Made Designer Lehengas for Brides. At Samyakk.com, your ultimate destination for bridal couture, we’re here to make your dream wedding ensemble a reality. Join us as we embark on this journey through the world of Indian Wedding Outfits.

Factors to Consider When Buying Lehenga Online

In today’s digital age, buying a lehenga online offers convenience and accessibility. However, it’s essential to consider several factors to ensure you make the right choice:

Fabric: Opt for high-quality fabrics like silk, velvet, or georgette that offer both comfort and elegance.

Design and Embellishments: Choose a design that complements your body type and reflects your personal style. Pay attention to intricate embellishments like zari work, embroidery, and stone detailing.

Fit and Comfort: Prioritize comfort without compromising on style. Ensure the lehenga fits you well and allows ease of movement, especially considering the long hours you’ll be wearing it.

Trendy Lightweight Lehenga Choli: The Latest Fashion Statement

Modern brides are leaning towards lightweight lehenga cholis that offer ease of movement without compromising on style. These trendy ensembles feature minimalist designs, delicate embroidery, and breathable fabrics, perfect for brides who prefer comfort without sacrificing elegance.

Exploring Samyakk.com: Your Ultimate Destination for Designer Lehengas

When it comes to finding the perfect bridal lehenga, Samyakk.com emerges as a preferred choice among brides-to-be. Offering a diverse range of designs, impeccable craftsmanship, and personalized services, Samyakk.com ensures a seamless shopping experience for every bride.

Wide Range of Designs

Samyakk.com boasts an extensive collection of bridal designer lehengas, ranging from traditional to contemporary styles. Whether you’re seeking a classic red bridal lehenga or a trendy pastel ensemble, you’ll find a myriad of options to suit your taste and preferences.

Customization Options

At Samyakk.com, customization is key. Brides have the opportunity to personalize their bridal lehengas, from selecting fabrics and colors to incorporating intricate details and embellishments. This bespoke service ensures that every bride receives a unique ensemble that perfectly complements her style and personality.

Bridal Lehenga Designer Collection: Discover the Enchanting World of Bridal Elegance

The significance of selecting the perfect Heavy Work Bridal Lehenga cannot be overstated. Your choice of attire for the most special occasion of your life holds immense importance. Whether you opt for a traditional Zari Embroidered Lehenga or a modern Contemporary Designer Lehenga, it’s essential to find the ideal ensemble that reflects your style and personality. With options ranging from opulent Silk Lehengas for Weddings to lightweight and trendy alternatives like Pastel Wedding Lehengas, the array of choices can be overwhelming. At Samyakk.com, your go-to destination for Online Shopping Lehenga Cholis, you’ll find a diverse selection of options to suit every preference and budget. Whether you’re seeking an Expensive Wedding Lehenga or a Budget-Friendly Designer Lehenga, we’ve got you covered. From the ceremony to the reception, every moment of your wedding festivities deserves a special outfit, be it a Wedding Reception Lehenga, an Engagement Lehenga, or a Sangeet Lehenga. Explore our collection and embark on your journey to finding the perfect bridal ensemble.

Perfect Lehenga Choli for Your Wedding

Enter the realm of bridal elegance, where the quest for the perfect bridal outfit begins online. With weddings being one of life’s most cherished moments, finding the latest collections of bridal lehengas is paramount. Samyakk stands as an ethnic boutique store with over 15 years of experience, offering the finest bridal outfits for this special day.

Our platform serves as a haven for brides of all sizes, including those in search of Plus size wedding lehengas. We celebrate diversity and empower every bride to embrace her unique beauty as she explores our curated collection of flattering designs and styles.

For our international clientele, our seamless Online Lehenga Choli USA shopping experience ensures access to the latest trends and designs, regardless of geographic location. Planning a wedding in the UK? Dive into our elegant Online Wedding Lehengas UK collection, boasting sophisticated silhouettes and meticulous craftsmanship.

Indulge in the convenience of Online Shopping Lehenga Choli Australia, where you can peruse our extensive collection and have your dream ensemble delivered directly to your doorstep. With options for Buy wedding lehengas online COD, the process of acquiring your dream attire is simplified and hassle-free.

Yearning for something truly unique? Our Customized Bridal Lehenga Choli service empowers you to co-create a one-of-a-kind ensemble that perfectly encapsulates your style and personality. From hand-picking fabrics and embellishments to tailoring the fit to your specifications, our dedicated team is committed to bringing your vision to life.

For brides who prioritize both style and comfort, our range of Lightweight Festive Lehenga Cholis is an ideal choice. Crafted from breathable fabrics and featuring understated embellishments, these ensembles are designed to ensure ease of movement while exuding elegance.

At Samyakk.com, we recognize the significance of your wedding day and are dedicated to helping you look and feel your absolute best. Embark on your bridal journey with us today and discover the perfect ensemble that surpasses your expectations.

Custom Made Designer Lehenga for Bride: Adding a Personal Touch

For brides who crave exclusivity, a custom-made designer lehenga is the epitome of luxury. At Samyakk.com, you have the opportunity to collaborate with skilled artisans and designers to create a one-of-a-kind masterpiece that reflects your individual style and personality.

Indian Wedding Outfits: Embracing Tradition with Elegance

Indian wedding outfits hold a special place in every bride’s heart, symbolizing tradition, culture, and heritage. With its rich fabrics, intricate embroidery, and timeless designs, the bridal lehenga captures the essence of Indian craftsmanship and elegance, making it the perfect choice for brides who wish to embrace their cultural roots with grace and sophistication.

Explore Exquisite Designer Lehengas at Samyakk.com’s Online

Welcome to Samyakk.com, your premier Online Boutique Store for exquisite bridal attire! Explore our vast collection of Bridal Lehengas online India, perfect for brides across the globe. From traditional to contemporary styles, we offer a wide range of options to suit every taste and preference. Whether you’re in Bangalore or halfway across the world, our Online Lehengas India selection caters to all.

Indulge in the convenience of Online Shopping Lehenga Choli USA, where you can browse through our latest designs and trends from the comfort of your home. Planning a wedding in the UK? Look no further than our stunning Online Wedding Lehengas UK collection, featuring luxurious fabrics and intricate embellishments.

For our Australian customers, we offer seamless Online Buy Latest Lehenga Choli USA, ensuring you stay ahead of the fashion curve with our trendy designer ensembles. From Trendy Designer Lehenga Choli Online to the Latest Design Festive Lehengas, we have something for every occasion.

As the temperatures rise, embrace the season with our chic Summer Lehengas, crafted from lightweight fabrics and vibrant hues. Planning your reception? Explore our curated selection of Reception Lehenga Online Shopping options, designed to make you the star of the evening.

For your engagement ceremony, make a statement in our elegant Engagement Lehenga Online collection, featuring exquisite craftsmanship and attention to detail. Elevate your wedding day look with our luxurious Silk Lehenga Online Shopping for Wedding options, available in a variety of colors and styles.

For brides who dare to be bold, our Red Lehenga Online for Wedding and Golden Lehenga Online for Wedding collections offer timeless elegance and sophistication. Indulge in luxury with our curated range of Luxury Wedding Lehenga Online India, designed to make you feel like royalty on your special day.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

How long does it take to receive a customized bridal lehenga from Samyakk.com? A: The time frame for receiving a custom-made bridal lehenga depends on various factors, including the complexity of the design and the availability of materials. Our team will provide you with a detailed timeline once your design is finalized.

Can I visit a Samyakk store to try on bridal lehengas before making a purchase? A: Yes, Samyakk has physical stores where you can explore our collection of bridal lehengas and try them on to find the perfect fit. Our experienced staff will be happy to assist you in selecting the right ensemble for your special day.

Does Samyakk offer international shipping for bridal lehengas? A: Yes, we offer international shipping for all our products, including bridal lehengas. Whether you’re located in the USA, UK, Australia, or any other country, you can shop with confidence knowing that your dream bridal ensemble will be delivered to your doorstep with care and precision.

What sets Samyakk apart from other online retailers of bridal lehengas? A: Samyakk stands out for its commitment to quality, craftsmanship, and customer satisfaction. With a diverse range of designs, customization options, and personalized services, we strive to exceed the expectations of every bride and make their wedding dreams a reality.

Can I return or exchange a bridal lehenga purchased from Samyakk.com? A: We understand that selecting the perfect bridal lehenga is a significant decision, and we want you to be completely satisfied with your purchase. If for any reason you’re not happy with your order, you can return or exchange it within our specified return policy guidelines. Please refer to our website for more information on our return and exchange policy.

Conclusion

Your wedding day is a momentous occasion, and your bridal attire plays a pivotal role in making it truly unforgettable. With the wide range of designer lehengas available at Samyakk.com, you can find the perfect ensemble that reflects your unique style, personality, and cultural heritage. From traditional to contemporary designs, each bridal lehenga is a masterpiece of craftsmanship and elegance, ensuring you look and feel like a queen on your special day.

[not-your-asian-fantasy]

The Juggernaut

Barbie’s new Diwali doll has sold out in less than four days.

The $40 doll by Indian fashion designer Anita Dongre came out October 4. Though Barbie has released “Indian” dolls before, this is its first Diwali Barbie.

“In a continued commitment to promoting celebrations of heritage, Barbie is unveiling its first Barbie Diwali doll,” Mattel wrote in a news release. “The Barbie Diwali doll celebrates India’s cultural richness with a worldwide audience.”

Diwali Barbie sports a dark blue Anita Dongre lehenga, golden bangles and jhumka, high heels, and a ponytail. She has no backstory.

Dongre told USA Today that designing the look took over a year. She first envisioned the doll having several outfits. “I wanted to have an entire collection,” she told USA Today. “Should it be a lehenga? Should it be a sari? Should it be a sharara? There’s so much one can do. Indian fashion is just so versatile.”

“This Moonlight Bloom look features a choli top, floral koti vest, and lehenga skirt lush with dahlias, jasmine, and Indian lotus, representing strength and beauty,” Mattel’s site reads. Though note: “The doll comes with a stand…Doll cannot stand alone.”

Last year, American Girl also got in on the Indian American market, America’s fastest-growing and richest demographic. It launched Kavi, a doll who loves Broadway, has a Western and Indian wardrobe, and celebrates Diwali and Holi.

Despite its 2023 blockbuster movie, #Barbie has long faced flak for shaping perceptions of what women should look like.

In 1996, Mattel created its first melanated doll for Indians. She had the same physique as white Barbie and wore a bindi. Yet, the box labeled her pink sari as a two-piece outfit with an optional shawl and noted that Indians don’t use utensils to eat. As Sadaf Ahsan wrote for The Juggernaut: “If you aren’t blonde and blue-eyed, life in plastic isn’t fantastic.”

[toychest321]

Finding information on Jamila wasn't particularly easy, but from what I can gather...

(credit to @eepop-stuffs btw for getting her on my radar!)

Jamila was first released in 2006 by Simba Toys Middle East. According to an article published upon her debut at the 2006 Middle East Toy Fair in Dubai, her prototype initially intended to include fashions representing Turkey, Bangladesh, and Indonesia. However, these concepts never made it to final release, and we unfortunately have no photos of what they would have looked like.

Her initial lineup consisted of four dolls: herself, her male Arabic friend Jamil, her Indian friend Sunayana, and her Egyptian friend Kareema.

The name Jamila means "beautiful", and she seems to have only really been released with one outfit. She wore a black abaya with silver detailing with black shoes, and underneath wore a light blue tanktop with a white pencil skirt. Like her friends Sunayana and Kareema, Jamila has dark hair, brown eyes, and henna on her hands and feet.

(Credit to Bababolond on Flickr for the images)

For those unaware, Henna is a form of body decoration which originated from Africa and the Middle East, used with a natural dye from the Mehendi (lawsonia inermis). It is commonly tied to religious ceremonies such as engagements, weddings, Diwali, and Eid!

For Eid Al-Fitr, Henna would be applied towards the end of Ramadan as a symbol of the earthly delight of being alive. Jamila (and Sunayana if we're to believe they had identical Henna) seems to have eye imagery in hers, which represents protection from evil thoughts or wishes. It's also found on the top of her hands, also symbolizing protection, and on her feet, meant to soothe the nerves.

The name Jamil means "handsome". Jamil was initially released clean-shaven, but it seems later releases gave him facial hair. This might have been around the same time he was changed from Jamila's male friend to her husband, likely because (although opposite-sex friendships aren't explicitly forbidden) certain Muslims worry such friendships might result in inappropriate romantic thoughts. While this doesn't seem to be a unanimous belief across the board (many believing opposite-sex friendships are fine so long as you're careful), it might have caused enough controversy that Simba felt the need to marry the two so there weren't any implications. (Credit to Jan Unwichtig and Bababolond on Flickr for the images)

Ngl tho he is giving me major Kenergy...

Jamil comes with a white Thobe with silver buttons, a white Serwal ( undergarments traditionally worn beneath the Thobe), a white cotton undershirt, a white headscarf known as a Ghutra (tied with a black band called the Egal), black sandals, and a small dagger.

I'm actually not sure why his doll comes with a knife? The closest I could find was the Kirpan: a knife or sword which serves as a reminder to promote justice and protect the weak, mandatory for Amritdhari Sikhs to wear at all times. However, although non-Muslims sometimes confuse the two, Sikhism is a completely separate religion from Islam.

If anyone knows what this knife might be intended to represent, please let me know and I'll reblog an edit to this post!

After they were married, Jamila and Jamil had two children: Asad (meaning "Lion") and Almira (meaning "Princess"), both seen in the first illustration on this post. However, I can only seem to find one doll release for their daughter Almira, and none for Asad. Jamila comes in this playset in her base outfit, while her daughter (who cries when you press her stomach) wears pink pajamas. The playset includes a crib and several plastic accessories, including two hair brushes, a blow drier, and a baby bottle. Not only is this only release for Almira, but this also seems to be the only other release for Jamila aside from her initial core doll.

Sunayana means "woman with lovely eyes". She has long braided black hair, wearing a blue Lehenga Choli with a yellow Dupatta. Like Jamila, she also has henna on her hands and feet. She wears silver bangles, a silver necklace, and what I believe might be a Maang Tikka. Based on her images on the back of the doll boxes, I'm fairly certain she came wearing yellow sandal heels as well!

Honestly she might be one of my favorites of the line, since you sadly don't see many culturally-accurate Indian dolls compared to other ethnic groups. I especially love the use of color, and just how much jewelry she comes with!

Finally we have Jamila's Egyptian friend Kareema, whose name means "generous" or "kind". She has pale pink undergarments painted on beneath her clothes, which I assume Jamila has as well. Weirdly enough, however, she doesn't seem to have Henna like the other two.

Like Sunayana and Jamila she has long black hair, which is kept beneath a white hijab. She wears a long blue overcoat, matching jeans, blue shoes, and a multicolored striped shirt. As far as I can tell, her clothing doesn't seem to have Egyptian cultural roots like Sunayana's has Indian, however her modest style of dress and hijab are common for most Muslim women.

I've been meaning to make this post for at least a full week, and it's nice to finally get to share another beautiful yet obscure Muslim doll! It's a shame this doll didn't have more releases, since I'm honestly curious with the direction the might have taken with her and her friends based on the prior illustration! Regardless, I'm happy I got to share her and her friends with you all :)

Ramadan Kareem!

[boobo13cambridge]

O Re Piya | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: kissing, fingering.

Summary: It’s the day of your brother’s wedding, and you're running late. The main culprit: your handsy husband who can’t seem to control himself seeing you in a lehenga. 

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been MIA for a few weeks because I was dealing with a lot of personal issues. I wrote this sporadically and I really wanted to finish this for you guys. Please leave me feedback, I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

Nazrein bolen duniya bole

(The glances are telling, the world knows)

dil ki zaban haaye dil ki zubaan

(The story of my heart, oh, the story of my heart)

Ishq maange ishq chahe koi toofan

(Love prays, love wishes for a hurricane (to stir the life within))

The sun rose high in the sky, painting the world in a warm and golden glow. The flowers, arranged with care and love, burst into full bloom, their petals as vibrant and colourful as the bride's lehenga. The sun's rays kissed each delicate petal, illuminating their beauty with an ethereal glow.

The gentle breeze danced through the trees, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the delicate rustling of leaves. The birds chirped merrily, their songs adding to the symphony of the day. The sound was a soft and soothing melody, one that filled the air with tranquillity and joy. 

The guests, dressed in their finest attire, basked in the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day, and the groom’s sister was still hidden from the common eye as she struggled to get ready, the emotional toll of the day a huge weigh on her delicate shoulders. Thankfully, her husband was out helping her family to lessen the burden and give her some breathing room to get ready. 

As the young beauty came out of the bathroom leaving behind a cloud of jasmine and oud, her makeup delicately done to match the pink hues of her lehenga and her long black hair flowing down her back in delicate waves, her eyes were immediately drawn to the soft, delicate hues of her lehenga. A vision in light pink, the fabric flowed like a gentle stream, its folds and creases catching the light of the sun in a breathtaking display.

The intricate embroidery, painstakingly crafted by skilled artisans, was a masterpiece of intricate design, with every stitch and bead radiating its own unique brilliance. The shimmering stones, like sparkling stars in the sky, adorned the hem and neckline of the lehenga, casting a soft and iridescent glow.

She carefully slipped into the choli, the bodice fit her like a glove, accentuating her curves. Next, the young woman delicately dragged on the lehenga, the flowing skirt that trailed behind her seemed to float like a soft cloud, dancing around her legs with each step. She felt like one of those Disney princesses that she used to love as a little girl. 

Her eyes caught the reflection in the mirror, and she gasped at the sight before her. The lehenga had transformed her, turning her into a radiant beauty. She reached for the matching dupatta, draping it over her right shoulder and allowing it to cascade down her back and flow in the front in a soft wave.

As she finished getting ready, spraying the perfume her beloved got her, spreading the rich aroma of amber and jasmine around the room,  her very own prince charming entered the room. His dark eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he beheld her beauty.

"Mon amour," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and desire, "you are absolutely stunning. How did I ever get so lucky to have you?"

His hands reached out to caress the delicate fabric of her lehenga, his fingers tracing the intricate embroidery with awe. His gaze lingered on the gentle curve of her waistline, the soft curve of her hips, and the delicate tilt of her plump lips.

A warm blush crept up her cheeks as she closed her eyes and basked in the sweet affection of his touch, savouring the feel of his hands on her skin. “Kylian…arrête. We need to be downstairs, they’re waiting for us.”

"Mmm, bébé. Je suis fou de toi," he murmured, his voice low and husky with lust. "You take my breath away, mon amour. You are like a goddess, come to earth to bless me with your beauty."

She felt her cheeks darken as he whispered words of adoration and love into her ear. Her heart swelled with affection and gratitude for this man who made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Kylian drew her close, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, trailing kisses down her smooth skin each one filled with deep and abiding love that she felt deep in her bones. Her body responded to his touch, her skin igniting with a fire that burned hot and bright. She revelled in the sensation of his hands on her body, leaning into him, his touch igniting her senses and sending her heart racing.

But even as her desire for him grew, she knew they couldn't stay here forever. They needed to join the rest of the family, to celebrate her brother's wedding. People would get suspicious if they didn’t come down, especially as the groom’s older sister, her presence was imperative.

"Kylian, we need to go," she murmured, her voice tinged with reluctance. "Everyone is waiting for us."

The young football star groaned in frustration, his hands tightening around her waist. "Just a few more minutes, ma chérie," he pleaded. "I can't resist you in this lehenga. You look so beautiful."

Despite the minutes ticking away, she smiled at his words, slowly losing the will to push him away. “Kylian, s’il-vous-plaît, we need t-”

Kylian’s lips found hers in a fierce, passionate kiss, cutting her off. The flames of desire and passion that had been building between the two lovers erupted and surrounded them in an inferno. Kylian's hands roamed freely over her body, tracing the curves of her hips and the gentle slope of her breasts. She moaned softly, her body responding to his touch with a fire that burned deep within her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he kissed her hungrily, his hands trying to reach every part of her body with increasing urgency.

She felt his muscles tense under her fingertips as he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed. He lay her down gently, his eyes never leaving her as he hovered over her, his breath hot on her skin. Looking into his eyes, she felt an indescribable emotion pass through her, it was as if every particle in her body was intertwining with her beloved’s. The surge of emotions made her breathless as she gently cradled Kylian’s face in her hands. “Je t’aime si fort, Ky.”

Kylian’s intense gaze softened slightly as he turned slightly to kiss her hand, “Je t’aime, mon coeur. You’re my everything, my complete half. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life.”

His confession brought tears to her eyes. A single drop threatened to fall but he gently wiped it, summarizing in that moment all that he was to her. 

Chalna aahiste ishq naya hai

(Tread carefully as this love is new)

Pehla Yeh Vada Humne Kiya Hai

(This is the first time I've taken a vow)

Uniting their lips in a soft embrace, Kylian gently swiped her bottom lip with his tongue. She obtained her mouth to let him in, as their tongues came together in a passionate dance that sent sparks to her every extremity. As they grew needy, Kylian's hands roamed over her body with an intense hunger, his lips trailing down her neck, pausing to nuzzle against her collarbone. She gasped in pleasure as he continued to explore her body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through her like wildfire.

His fingers found their way to the soft curves of her breasts, and he squeezed them gently, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. “Kylian, more.”

His touch was electric, sending waves of desire through her body. She arched her back, pressing herself into him, eager for more of his touch. Kylian's fingers kneaded her breasts with increasing urgency, his touch growing more intense as he sought to pleasure her. He toyed with her nipples, flicking them with his thumb and forefinger, causing her body to tremble with delight. She moaned his name, her breath coming in short gasps as she surrendered to his touch. 

One of his hands trailed down her lehenga lifting it up with urgency so he could explore wet heat between her soft thighs. His breathing grew ragged as his fingers brushed the soaking lacy fabric. 

“Kylian, we can’t. We have to go,” she protested while pushing herself into his fingers for more friction. “Bébé, let me just make you feel good, oui?” 

He pushed her panties to the side and shoved two fingers in her tight eat as she let out a loud moan. Kylian didn't want to silence her wanting to hear her moan her name in that breathless, needy tone. 

He curved his fingers reaching that spot that had her eyes crossing as she clung to his muscled back, desperate whimpers leaving her painted lips. Kylian buried his face in the valley of her breasts, his tongue leaving a wet sheen that gleamed in the sunlight. 

As the knot in her stomach tightened, Kylian increased his pace, his fingers and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive her to the brink of ecstasy. She clung to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin as she surrendered herself to his touch.

“Ky-Kylian, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum,” she begged as the pleasure was too much.

“Cum, bébé. Cum for me.”

Searing hot pleasure raced through her body, as she exploded, tightening around Kylian’s fingers which were still thrusting at a steady, helping her through her orgasm.

As she came down, her breathing hard and cheeks high with colour, she opened her eyes to Kylian looking down at her with soft eyes as he placed delicate kisses on her face.

“Hi, mon coeur. Enjoy yourself?” he asked cheekily. Giggling she grabbed his cheeks and bit his nose playfully. “You know I did it, you cheeky brat.”

A loud knock on the door made them both freeze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. "Kylian, Y/N, it's time to go! The baraat* is ready!" called out a voice from outside the door.

“Coming!”, she answered slightly panicked. Pushing her husband off and rushing to the mirror. Her lehenga choli was a little crinkled, and her mascara was smudged under her eyes. “Kylian! You ruined my dress and makeup, merde.” 

Rolling his eyes, Kylian came behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her, leaving a quick kiss on her neck. “T’inquiète, mon amour. I’ll help you, you’ll be fine.”

Shaking her head, she realized at that moment that while her beloved was definitely going to get them in trouble, she wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.

End Note:

*Baraat: a celebratory wedding procession that escorts the groom, who is traditionally on horseback, to the site of the wedding.

[scarlet--wiccan]

We're still undoing the damage done by Teen Titans 2003, I think. Jinx is another Indian sorceress from that franchise and they've really only *just* stopped whitewashing her. Starfire with afro-textured hair is still a hit or miss but with black women recently being used as a base for her visually (Zendaya, Rihanna, Anna Diop) it seems to be getting better.

Raven definitely got the worst of it though- she used to wear lehengas and saris all the time with pastel colors and actually looked Indian (Persis Khambatta, the actress she was based on, was relatively light skinned), now she's been claimed by the goth/witchy aesthetic with the purple hair and grey skin. She wears upside down pentagrams. And pants, even though I distinctly remember her hating pants and preferring skirts and dresses. She's unrecognizable- Marvel's taking measures now to fix Wanda, but DC isn't doing the same for Raven. She recently got her classic look back but I have no idea if it's sticking around.

The Jinx character in Teen Titans is so weird. This is on me, because I'm just not as much of a DC reader, but I legit believed that she was a random OC that was intended to be a Scarlet Witch knockoff. Because they give her, like, a reductive version of Wanda's hex power, and she's designed in the same 2000s goth vein as TT Raven and Evo Wanda.

But anyway, yeah, for all its merits, Teen Titans really did a number on a lot of Black and brown characters, and Raven's had it pretty rough for a long time. I was so surprised that the gender-bent version from Teen Justice was actually designed as a South Asian character with darker skin, but I was also completely unsurprised that he immediately started getting lightened and whitewashed.

I'm not totally sure how I feel about Raven's fashion choices. Her traditional clothing is important, but in the current continuity, she's a young adult who, to the extent that she's lived on Earth, mostly grew up in America. So I understand the impulse to make her feel a bit more youthful and contemporary, and I think it's possible for a character to explore different styles, especially alternative fashion, without compromising their culture and ethnicity. Obviously, the first step would be to stop drawing her like a white girl. Or a Monster High doll, for that matter. But I'm not an expert on the character-- sound off if you think I'm wrong, I guess.

[biblioklept-writes]

Delicate

Part 3 to Stargirl and Daydream (Modern!Aemond x Reader)

A/N: This is the final part you guys! I might do something in-universe for this later, but for now this is it. Sorry this is a little rushed, I couldn't find words to write </3

Summary: The Targaryen siblings are in India and who is better travel company than you?

Alternatively, Aemond's siblings fully tease him for his not-so-little crush on you.

Word Count: 3.2 k

Series Masterlist | HOTD Masterlist

When Helaena informed you that she and her brothers had been planning to visit India, you were over the moon with joy. You animatedly told your mom, who offered that they could stay over the boys could crash in one room and Helaena could crash with you. Since Aegon was also coming with them, you refused, saying that they were ultra rich and maybe they wouldn’t like staying in your humble house - which was also partly true. And they were arriving today, in a couple of hours.

You dab the blush onto your cheek, getting ready for a family friend’s wedding. You asked your parents to stop by the hotel they were staying in for a short while before heading over to the wedding, and here you were trying to get your eyeliner right because how could you not be extra at a desi wedding?

Helaena had already landed by the time you left your house in a rush, not attempting to style the dupatta with the black sequined lehenga that you wore. The blouse was short, stopping a little below your boobs in a tube-top-esque fashion and long heavy matching skirt. Your jewellery was of fine white gold and long stone earrings. You even wore a silvery bun cuff on your effortlessly-messy updo.

Your parents waited for you outside of the extravagant hotel as you searched for any platinum blond hair. The silver bangles on your wrist clink as you lift your skirt a little to run to the reception, asking about Helaena. You were out-of-place here in the rich-people place, but presently you didn’t give a fuck.

The receptionist gives you a once over, but is polite enough to guide you to the second floor on the left section. Rooms 2L09-2L12. The cost of one room would be more than the rent of houses out there, you think as you step out of the lift. The floor is polished marble so smooth that you can see yourself reflected.

To your luck, you spotted Aemond first, standing on a fork to your left, and rushed your heart beating in your chest. But Helaena stepped out of the fork too, speaking with the bellboy and you called her name. The siblings turned at the sound of your voice, eyes wide as they took in your appearance. 

You run into Helaena’s open arms and squeeze her. You couldn’t believe that they were right here in the flesh. “Gods, I am so happy to see you!” you squealed. She is dressed in a comfortable yellow tee and shorts, looking very tired but happy.

“Me too!” Helaena said, stepping away. Seemingly had enough of close contact for a month. “You look…”

“Magnificent, per usual.” A smooth voice adds, making you look at the polished marble. “Hi,” he says again, the sound of your name on his tongue sickly sweet. You want to hug him too, but don’t think it would be appropriate in front of his sister.

“Hi, Aemond,” you said, finally finding the courage to look up at him. Today, he’s dressed in a black polo shirt tucked in his khaki trousers. No less formal than the turtleneck and suit you had seen him the other time. His silver hair is half up in a little ponytail. An image of rubbing yourself against him, but force it away.

“Come in,” Helaena holds your wrist and drags you into her suite. “Aemond, you can join us too, just sort that out.”

A ghost of a smile graces Aemond’s features, his one eye half closed. As you entered the magnificent suite. You repeatedly told yourself to not stare. This one suite was bigger than your whole house. And from what you could tell, this was for Helaena alone. It’s good that I didn’t invite them over. “Where are you headed to after this?” Helaena asks, not-so-discreetly eyeing you.

“Oh, a wedding.” You say. “The son of my father’s colleague is getting married.”

“You look like you’ll outshine the bride.” Helaena says.

“Not a chance,” you say. “Honey, there’s no way you can outshine a desi bride, on her own wedding of all places. If it was one of my cousins getting married, I’d have taken you. You should see at least one desi wedding.”

“I’ll be certain to attend yours,” Helaena teases with a suggestive glint in her eyes. 

“Of course,” You grin, not giving into her teasing antics. “I wouldn’t dream of getting married in your absence,”  

“Helaena, where is Aeg- ” A voice that you don’t recognise calls, stopping at the sight of you. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting company.”

“Hello,” you say, looking at the young boy with the signature Targaryen silver hair and purple eyes. He holds a certain innocence and self-confidence and you want to smother him with affection like one of your little cousins. “You must be Daeron,”

“Yeah, wow.” He says, as if he is struggling to find words. “Hi. You must be Y/N.”

You smile, stifling a laugh, but Helaena full on bursts out laughing. “Not you too, Daeron. Didn’t you want to ask her about computer science?”

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Daeron shakes his head, and composes himself. “Hello Y/N, it is great to meet you. People have told me to come talk to you about Computer Science. You seem like the best one out there.”

“That is a big fat lie,” You say. “But I can try to help you with anything. Tell me, what grade are you in?”

“Eleventh Grade, starting after the holidays.” He proudly says. “I still have to fill out my forms though.”

“You can talk later about the boring stuff,” Helaena says. “Come Y/N, tell me what have you been up to? You looked so lovely in the pictures you posted last night.”

“Nothing, actually. I was at home getting bored so I dressed up.” You tell her. “Also, I am currently in a time crunch and have only fifteen minutes before my parents start getting angry at me. We have to be there early so we can leave early.”

“Oh, that’s sad.” Helaena sighs. “I thought you could stay over for tonight, with me. It would be so much fun!”

“I’ll ask my mom about that,” you say, grinning awkwardly. 

“Daeron, take some good pictures of us,” Helaena orders her littlest brother, handing out her phone. “If they are not good, I’ll beat your arse.”

Aemond is running up the stairs as fast as his long legs can to get some time to meet you. He knows you are in a rush and doesn’t want to make you wait, but you are already leaving Helaena’s room and waving her bye as he reaches the fork end. Daeron’s little head peeks out from Helaena’s suite, all shy waving at you. You flash his siblings your beautiful smile and turn, finally facing him.

An endearing blush dusts your cheeks as you spot him, smiling coyly.

“Hello again,” you say. “We didn’t get to speak at all.”

“Let me walk you out,” He offers, eager to spend any moment with you even though he is exhausted. To his eye, you are a glowing goddess, he wants to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, tell you how divine he thinks you are, but he holds back.

“What a gentleman,” you say, “Your mum would be so proud,”

“That’s the goal,” he chuckles softly. “So… you’d remember that I told you Professor Leyland assigned me Indian History as my project topic for this year, do you have any suggestions for a suitable location?”

“Well… it depends on what period of history you want to study.” You explain. “If you are more interested in the Delhi Sultanate and the Mughal Empire, Delhi and Agra would be good places to start. If you want to go back and study ancient civilisation, southern parts of India are favourable. I’d personally like you to go to Jaipur - it has a blend of both the rajput and mughal styles and a widely accessible resource base for your project work. Also, I have never been to Jaipur myself and would love to travel with you.” you winked at him towards the end, earning an endearing blush.

“Well, I must visit Jaipur then,” Aemond says, bumping into your shoulder lightly. “If such pleasant company awaits me,”

You were back at the reception now and hugged Aemond quickly before you left, smiling at him over your shoulder. He stands there, a rare blush colouring his pale cheeks crimson. She smells like the best fruits, he thought. 

“Did you have a good time?” Daeron asks, winking as Aemond returned. 

“Peachy,” Aemond quips, sitting down. He cannot stop smiling, still feeling the remnants of the hug.

“I didn’t think she’d be that beautiful.” Daeron sighs. “I forgot how to speak! Helaena, her pictures don’t do her beauty any justice.”

“Hey folks, what’s going on?” Aegon asks, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame. “I heard your little girlfriend came to see you, Aemond. You speak with her? You’re positively glowing.”

“Oh shut up, Aegon.” Aemond sighs, leaning back against the couch. “You got the pool view room now, did you not? Stop spoiling my mood.”

“The glow of a person in love!” Aegon says in a sing-song voice, swaying like a madman. Daeron joins him too, singing along with him. “The glow of love suits my brother so well. I’m in love - the beautiful, intelligent y/n - has stolen my precious heart and I cannot live without - ”

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Aemond sighs, accepting defeat. He rubs his cold hands over his face in a weak attempt to gain some composure. “Must you torture me like this?”

“I am sure he is not in love yet,” Helaena muses, suggestively looking at them. “He’s not yet seen her play chess… Or the game that she designed.”

“She designed a chess game?!” the three brothers said simultaneously, incredulous.

“It’s a work in progress,” Helaena giggles, looking at their wide eyes. To Aemond she says, “Are you in love now, little brother?”

“I just might be,” He sighs again, falling on the couch. “My sweet Y/N.”

“The glow of a person in love,” all his three siblings repeated in that sing-song voice he loved to loathe. “Someone is falling in love,”

“I hate my life,” he muttered. I love these little shitheads, but I could also kill them.

.

It is now a good four days later that you stand in Helaena’s suite in the extravagant hotel, as she packs the last moment travel supplies - pads, tampons and a whole lot of paper towels and paper soap. You have your own bags ready for the trip - you suggested renting a car for the trip so it would be safer and easier to travel, the distance wasn’t too much and you’d be able to reach the hotel at nearly the same time. Also it was cheaper and you could carry more luggage.

You were surprised that your parents allowed you to go, but then again you were living half-way across the world most of the time, they probably trusted you.

Aemond is helping Aegon pack up, and Daeron sits on the couch outside Helaena’s bedroom, scrolling through his phone. Then in a rush all of you are ready and sitting at the reception with five minutes to spare. Aemond is doing one final check, listing items with the potential to be forgotten - chargers, earphones, phones, notebooks, pens, camera, soap, sanitizer, water bottles, map, google translate, watch, hair ties, comb, skin and hair care pouch, brushes, toothpaste and Aegon.

“You’re such a dad,” you commented, chuckling. 

His pale cheeks turn a beautiful crimson at your chuckle as his siblings also joined in with their snickers. “Well, someone has to be the responsible adult here.” He says in defence. “Daeron is too young, Helaena is probably watching bug videos on her phone, worry isn’t a good look on you and… Aegon.”

“What did I even do?” Aegon puts his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “I don’t do anything and he still treats me like this, you see, Y/N?”

“That is the problem, Aegon,” Aemond sighs. “Anyways. Do we have everything?”

“Yes, Dad,” Daeron exasperatedly sighs. 

The drive to Jaipur was relatively peaceful, the siblings keeping their fights to a minimum. And you got to sit between Helaena and Aemond, gladly leaning in to his chest as you lazily spoke with Helaena. His large hand is on your knee, gently caressing and comforting. He’s so warm - it would be so easy to let everything go and just fall asleep on this human heater.

“Y/N!” Daeron yelled from the front seat. “Helaena told us that you are building a chess game! Tell us about it. What did you use?”

“Oh, just Unity and C#,” you say. At Aegon and Aemond’s confused expressions, you add, “Unity is a game development software. Anywho - it’s not ready to be used yet. There’s many errors and my chess proficiency seems to end there.”

“I am certain Aemond can assist you with that,” Aegon said, sitting in the back seat. “He’s quite the chess prodigy himself.”

“I have never beat him, not even when he was drunk.” Daeron adds.

“Are you?” You cock an eyebrow at Aemond looking up at the rare, easy smile on his face. “I could certainly use that skill set,”

“I’ll be glad to help you,” Aemond says. His heart thumps a little faster under your ear and you can’t help but smile. It was so easy falling into this routine.

.

They had arranged for the stay in another extravagant hotel - it had everything that you could imagine. The toiletries there were more expensive than your entire closet, you were certain of that. Even after your insistence that you get a normal room and not a suite - it cost like your monthly expenditure in King’s Landing - the Targaryen siblings booked you your own suite reassuring you that it wasn’t much. Each time you think that you understand just how filthy rich they are, they pull a tactic like this and it turns out they are even richer. Surely not all of their money was legal, was it?

You spent three days in the Pink City, visiting the Hawa Mahal, the City Palace and a one-day long trip to Amber Palace. Aemond was deeply interested in the history of each place and took down notes, asking you to translate whatever he couldn’t understand. He asked the local guides who were more than eager to explain the old tales to him - now that their pocket was full - and Aemond noted every last word that they said. You took the liberty and recorded the guide, knowing it would certainly be helpful in the future. 

And you took a lot of pictures - so many with Helaena, Aemond, Daeron and even Aegon, who was a lot nicer when not inebriated. Your gallery was full of the targaryen siblings now - most occurring of them being Aemond. You loved your bug girl to death, but the way Aemond made your mind and body react was totally different. When sharing time came, you only shared a few of the shots that you had taken - you didn’t want to seem too weird with copious amounts of pictures that you had of him.

The high walls of Amer Kila and the gorgeous ceilings on the homely interior were in stark contrast to the intimidating stone walls on the outside. You were positively exhausted by walking all day, admiring the centuries old work visiting each room that you were permitted to see. Aemond takes so many pictures - of each room, of you in there, of his siblings - and you secretly click a picture of him. You think it’s endearing how invested he is in the history of this palace, how his one keen eye wanders about the room, drinking in every detail

You think then, he would have been too perfect, so the gods took his eye. It doesn’t matter that to you he is still a divine beauty, a fallen angel - something seraphic about his lilac eye and the sapphire in the other, to the world and himself he is imperfect because he is missing an eye. 

It is way past midnight when you return to Jaipur. You bid everyone goodnight, but linger with Aemond, not giving a fuck about the cleaning lady of the corridor. You are sure that this isn’t the first late-night rendezvous she is witnessing.

Aemond’s good eye scans the hallway, gently wrapping his hand around your wrist as he pulls you to his suite and you stand there in the middle of the massive room with dimmed lights, looking at his ethereal face, admiring the way the Gods have chiselled him - you can tell they took their time crafting this fine specimen of the male species - and you don't hold yourself back as you rise to your toes. Don’t attempt to pull back as he leans down to you, don’t pull back when his warm breath hits your face.

You think he smells like the chocolate he had been sharing with you in the car as his lips are a hair’s breadth away from yours, and wonder if your mouth smells like that.

You don’t stop him when he brings his hands to the sides of your face, holding you delicately as if you are made of glass. You melt when his warm, sweet mouth collides with yours - you think you are dead and in heaven, or in a daze. Your hands grip at his narrow waist, holding him like he is the only person in the world, the only connection that you have to reality. 

You pulled back for a breath, and then a switch seemed to have snapped in place as your mouths collided again - much harsher, tongues fighting and teeth clashing as you were desperate to taste more of him - his beautiful mouth tasting of the chocolate that you had just eaten. You are standing on his feet, his hands now on your waist and yours in his silken hair, tugging at it and he lets out a moan.

Aemond is snapped off his daze by his own moan, and he rests his forehead against yours, panting. “This was the best fucking kiss of my life,” he mutters on your lips.

“Mine too,” you breathe against him. “You’re the best kiss of my life, Aemond.”

The sound of your name on his smooth tongue and breathy voice is enough to send shocks of arousal through your veins, but the both of you hold back, too exhausted from the day and too wrapped up in the feel of each other’s mouth. 

“I want to be yours,” Aemond whispers. “Will you accept me as yours?”

“Only if you take me to be yours,” you say with a smile. 

You try to kiss once more, only to be interrupted by your own giggles. “You’re the prettiest little creature I have ever met,” he confesses.

“Right back at you,” you say, smiling widely. “The prettiest among men,”

“Will you stay here tonight?” He asks, voice small, hesitant. “I just want to sleep beside you.”

“Grab your change of clothes and let’s go to my room.” you whisper-giggle. “Wouldn’t want your siblings and my best friend to think we’re up to no good,”

He doesn’t let you go as he lets out a satisfied hum, gently swaying you both.

.

.

.

Tags:

@depressedperson88 @mrswhitethornbelikov

[girlsgirl06]

WHAT'S YOUR STYLE?

DISCOVER YOUR STYLE!😉

Fashion is very important. Being well dressed makes the personality more beautiful and strong.

The way you dress tells a lot about you. You might have noticed the type of outfits you wear, you feel the same way. For example: When I wear that oversized baggy clothes I feel so cool and become kind of very open and confident. And when I wear beautiful dresses I feel like I'm the princess. So you understand our clothes create a great impact on us and our behaviour.

So dress for not getting attention but to feel confident and pretty. Dress for yourself, not for others. Dress the way you want to.

Now, let's have a look on some of the most trendiest and amazing types of style. Observe each style and find which style matches your vibe☺️

1. CASUAL/ STREET WEAR/CHIC STYLE

Casual/Street style or Chic style is about being a little simple like pair of jeans and top or shirts, like anything that's comfy.

2. DARK FEMININE/FEMME FATALE/ ELEGANT

A Dark Feminine or Femme Fatale is a woman who styles mostly in black, red or dark colours. Her style is so elegant and classy. She often wears backless dresses or Blazers with a pair of heels accessorizing with beautiful jewellery. She dresses like she's the queen.

3. SOFT GIRL/GIRLY GIRL

A Soft girl style is very cute one. She often wears floral dresses or anything of floral print, skirts, a-line dresses etc. She mostly chooses colours like white, pink or pastel light colours. This style is more about being cute and girly. You can also add cute stuff as accessories.

4. TOMBOY

Tomboy style is one of the most savage styles among all. It is all about wearing oversized shirts, tshirts, sweatshirts, hoodies, baggy jeans/trousers accessorizing with caps, beanies, headbands, shoes, chains, studds etc. This style is more about being a cool girl.

5. Y2K

Y2K which is one of the most trendiest styles nowadays is a recreation of 2000's fashion. Wearing dresses and jeans underneath, styling skirts with oversized tees, bell bottoms jeans and accessorizing it as much as possible.

6. COQUETTE

Coquette style includes Ribbons. It is accessorizing ribbon on hairs or on clothes, mini skirts with cute crop tops. This style is very similar to soft girl style.

7. COTTAGE CORE

Cottage core is also similar to soft girl style. Wearing light colour outfits, mostly floral print, accessorizing with bows and pretty necklaces, bracelets, earrings etc. You can add crochet bags, baskets if going on trip, long skirts and cardigans.

8. OFFICE SIREN

Office Siren is also recreation of 2000's style. It is a classy and attractive style. If you wanna be looked up as a classy, elegant, smart and charming woman at office or wherever, you should go with this style.

9. DESI CORE

Desi core is an Indian girl's style. Wearing Indian traditional outfits like kurtis, lehengas, sarees etc. Accessorizing with Indian jewellery like jhumkas(earrings) or bangles etc. I'll make a detailed blog on Desi Core as it's one of the most beautiful styles.

Your style makes you known. Wear more of your style, buy clothes according to your styles. Remember buying expensive clothes is not the point, buying the clothes that matches your vibe and style is more important. But also remember to spice up your personality by switching the styles. So do have more than one style, it will make your personality mysterious and interesting. You can also make a mix of styles to look more stylish and fashionable. For example: You can have that Femme Fatale look with a bit of soft girly style.

You can find the inspo of your style on the best app of all time PINTEREST❤️

I hope I made it easier to find your style. Dress well, Vibe well😉

Thankyou for reading my blog ❤️

[taitropa]

❛ the hardest part is who we are. ❜

The lehenga is the color of bubbling champagne adorned with gems that catch even the smallest light and cast fractals onto the nearest surface. Right now that would be the ceiling of the hotel room and the sparkling orbs thrown across the walls twist and glitter when Inej turns even only a little. The fabric is soft when she runs her hands across the full skirt, a far cry from the cheap imitation material she once wore to entice men who wanted her for only her skin, but she doesn’t feel any safer. Her choli bares more flesh than she is used to. The soft expanse of her midriff is on display from the wings of her ribcage all the way to the band at her hips and she fights not to curl into herself.

Kaz stands beside her with her dupatta in his hands. It perfectly matches the lehenga and she wonders how he managed to steal the whole set but then she probably shouldn’t wonder. This is Kaz after all. Inej fixes her gaze past the dupatta and on the skin of his bare fingers. If she looks at his face, she’s almost positive that she will tumble into the well of emotions that sits simmering within her. She agreed to this job without any fuss and she doesn’t even know why anymore.

“We’re playing a part,” she reminds him because she is also reminding herself. Mostly she is reminding herself. And it’s his plan anyway just like it always is. Inej runs her hands more firmly back down the front of her skirt to reassure herself that her knives are tucked beneath...and also to avoid taking the dupatta yet. It feels even more like taking that plunge than meeting his penetrating gaze and she doesn’t think she can take that leap. For all her courage in past times of fear, she is embarrassed now to be so anxious. “This isn’t who I am.”

🔪 UNREAL UNEARTH.

[dvsconocvdo]

❝ mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

Amrita's style fits her rather colorful and flowery aesthetic. For her dresses and skirts are the most comfortable, so her closet consists almost entirely of those items. She does have two jeans in her closet, but she seldom wears them. Her wardrobe color palette consists of a range of pinks, purples, oranges, blues, and greens. She also owns a variety of neutral toned items. Given the fact that Amrita's arms, shoulders, legs, chest, and back are covered in pretty grotesque scars, she often wears long sleeved shirts to cover them. Whenever she wears a dress or styles a scarf as a shirt, she often has a long sleeve shirt underneath to cover the scars. Even if its summer and there's a heat warning, Amrita will cover her scars. The same can be said when she wears saris or lehengas, she wears thin long sleeve shirts to cover her body. Some times she takes risks such as during the Masquerade Ball where she only covered her scars with make up and hoped the illusions wore off by the time she was home (spoiler alert: they wore off much, much earlier). Other times, she merely wears a crocheted sweater or cardigan over a dress without a shirt underneath.

In terms of accessories, Amrita likes dainty jewelry. Often times she wears gold necklaces, bracelets, bangles, earrings, and rings with resin or pearls as an accent. She supports a few jewelry stores in Etsy that make rather eccentric jewelry based on food items like tea, or based on animals such as squirrels or bird houses. Her wardrobe ends up showcasing her interests and powers quite blatantly. Given that Amrita crochets, she often makes her own purses and carries them around. When Amrita lived in California, she started buying scarfs from thrift stores to use as tops since she could style them in different ways and make her outfits not look as repetitive given her lackluster financial situation. While her closet has grown a bit in size over the years, she still does this. Her wardrobe isn't that big, so she is often seen sporting the same articles of clothing over and over. She learned how to mend some of them, but always has a bit of savings put away for when shirts or scarfs rip beyond repair. Amrita takes exceptional scare of her saris, however, and most of them she's had since she was a teenager.

A lot of Amrita's wardrobe is thrifted. She is often overdressed as she has thrifted prom dresses and shoes and wears them regularly on her day-to-day. Because of this, Amrita is incredibly accustomed to walking in heels even in rough terrain. She doesn't mind dressing down and wearing one of her three pairs of sneakers, however.

Photos and more detailed depiction of her wardrobe can be found in her Pinterest board.

[nyx-is-missing]

IN MY HC JUDE DUARTE, TARYN DUARTE AND VIVI DUARTE ARE HALF DESI.

(And jude and taryn are half latinas)

LET ME COOK, the oficial art we have of jude shows us that she is a dark skinned girl, and the most common fancast for her is a brazillian actress, the scenes are taken from a soup opera that made hude success here.

As a brazillian i am taking this as a opportunity.

It was hcs in general but it grew up to something more, no complains!!

I kinda wanna do a pt2 on the revel..

I imagine the girls childhood, living is a nice neighborhood on the suburbs but going out every weekend to smaller neighborhoods filled with people from their culture.

Eating white people food sometimes to blend out but loving indian and latin food, especially brazillian food: they ate Samosa, curry, the brazillian barbecue, naan, feijoada etc....

The books mentions them eating other asian foods as well, they do that to stay as close to culture as they can.

One of the memories from home they could never forget was when they went all out as a family to enjoy their culture, whether it was a huge birthday party, or a even bigger indian wedding where they would dress in tradicional clothing and wear minor jewelry, or even a simple brazillian barbecue with friends where they would feel the thing all br kids feel while they wait by the pool for their parents to stop dancing and tk put them food, a plate of Rice, and meat with farofa temperada and vinagrete, ofc with a cup of guaraná.

They loved the languages, mostly mixing them up while talking fast so their parents would not understand what they were trying to say to one another, they still do that in faeryland. They loved understanding the music as well.

Abou the music, i picture them having so much fun dancing to the music at parties, learning coreographies or just spinning around to the songs.

I can perfectly see taryn sleeping in a chair late at night at a party (they grew up with noise, developing the ability to sleep anywere was a must) while jude and vivi tired themselfs out with a group of kids or older people learning the dancings and the meaning Behind them.

Carimbó was very common, they loved spinning around with their huge skirts full of colours, moving their bodies with the rithim

The books show us jude snapping and trying to rebel to somethings, i can see her pulling the seamstress aside to request her a bunch of lehengas with the other dresses, a Red one with Gold details, a Black one with Silver details, a water green one, a orange one etc... not even taryn knew about it, it was her secret small rebellion, they didnt take her for one them? Well she didnt either, she was human, a hot blooded human, and she was going to show them that

And after thinking about it for a sec she even asked for some more jewelry to madoc, indian jewelry, he gave her Gold and she went with vivi to the mortal world to buy them, vivi loved it, every second of it.

They came back with tons of jewelry and jude even got her nose pierced, it had the tiniest little Stone that she used to keep the perfuration from closing up, it was easy to cover up until the day of the revel

And she was especially exited when the day finally came

She had the complete package, the red lehenga that complemented her skin, a maangtika she wore with her hair down, for the first time in years, a nath on her nose, jhumkas in her ears, a haath phool in her hands, she even went to the human world to do some henna, she had never been more human in years, and she wasnt hating it.

She went down the stairs of her house feeling great, and the feeling grew at the compliments her family gave her, taryn was a bit on the jealous side but madoc told her not to complain, jude had the idea and made it come true, even after giving up one of the fabrics to make her happy.

Even vivi decided to go this once, she loved little acts of rebellion

Oriana was satisfied to see jude being less... the usual, for once, and even made a small talk about the outfit, jewelry and the meaning.

But a question Vivi ansewered herself:

"Oh, about the nose ring? Some women wore them as a symbol of marital status, but it has various meanings, womanhood, elegance, a sense of rebellion..."

She smiled to jude, eyes glowing as she smiled back

It was going to be fun, and jude couldnt wait for her blood to heat up again.

[fishnets-fingers]

Six Months - Part Twenty Four

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n -  it’s the one with the wedding and the family celebrating diwali (maybe a tryst in the backseat of harry’s range rover). it’s almost the end of november in the story, which means it’s almost time for layla to bid farewell. thank you so much for reading and loving spy!harry. i’ll probably be writing another part very soon with the princess and the spy, so be on the lookout for that. reblog and like as always. have a wonderful weekend. happy reading!

Word Count - 10.6 k

Warnings - fluff, angst, smut (choking, spanking?)

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

“I have hot gossip,” Layla announces when she gets to the table they’ve been assigned to. The sangeeth has been a spectacle and was currently on a momentary pause as the bride and groom had gone to slip into their third outfits for the night. Three outfits changes for a single evening was too much, even by Layla’s standard of a big fat Indian wedding but she wasn’t complaining. Besides, the grander the wedding, the more fun it was for the guests because Tamil weddings barely have time for the bride and groom to take it all in. 

The party didn’t stop with the absence of the bride and groom though. The DJ had invited people onto the dancefloor to give the performing family members a breather. Harry and Layla were the only two at the round table, which was decorated with a centerpiece with overgrown orchids and tealights, and the occupants had abandoned their seats to take part in the festivities. Anne and Earl were chatting away with people who lived on their street, whatever they were talking about seemed spirited from the way the two gesticulated and threw their heads back to laugh. She spares a glance towards Abi and Vasanth swaying on the dance floor to a slowed down version of Unnakul Naane. Vasanth had requested the DJ to pull up their special song, and proceeded to whisk his wife for a dance.

“Lay it on me,” Harry chuckles, turning his body towards her. 

“I just heard from a very credible source, aka Dhruv and Ashwin, that the bride and groom are in the stairwell lighting up a blunt,” she tells him, bending down to shuffle the billowing fabric of her lehenga skirt in place once she’d sat down. “Invitation’s open to us too.”

“I wouldn’t risk getting high and walking into this room.” Harry had a point, the giant banquet hall of the hotel had been turned into a wonderful display of colours with the strobe lights and décor, scent with flowers and a concoction of perfumes, and sounds with high energy beats pounded the bass as members of the family danced and put on a show. 

“Fair point.” 

Ever since Layla professed her love for him - earlier that morning - by the lake, the two were detached from the festivities, preferring to sit back and revel in their feelings. Layla couldn’t tear her eyes away from Harry - in his muted blue grey suit and a mint green shirt that was the perfect amount of see through. She’d even go so far to bet that one else in the room was put together as him whilst also playing with colours. He’d styled his hair to look tousled and it drew more attention to his forest green eyes. 

“You look really nice. Pretty even,” she whispers, running her palm down his thigh.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckles. He catches her hand before it could reach the apex of his thighs and brings it up to his lips, pressing chaste kisses to her knuckles. “Feeling me up every chance you get is a great reminder.”

She kisses the corner of his mouth, a quick peck, reaching up to wipe the berry stain of her lipstick from his skin. “Can’t help it,” she shrugs, with an exaggerated pout.

“You don’t look all that bad, baby,” he teases with a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side. He was captivated the minute he’d saw her in the foyer of the house, bending down to fasten her heels in her lehenga. It was grey and filled with motifs of deers, peacocks, and flowers with colourful thread. She’s left her hair down in loose waves and had parted her bangs in the middle. She’s opted to forgo jewellery other than her giant jimikis that she’d pinned in her hair behind her ear. 

“If you want to get laid tonight, I’d suggest you work on your compliments, idiot. I’d take words like ravishing and enchanted,” she giggles.

“We both know that -”

“Layla,” Pooja interrupts. “I’m heading to the powder room, do you want to-’

“Yes.”

They both walk towards the restroom when an older man approaches the two of them, calling out Pooja’s name. He approaches the two of them engaging in chit chat, directing a warm smile at Layla when Pooja introduces her as a neighbour of her parents’. He talks about motherhood with his hands clasped behind his back, which only pushes his gut out more, making him look rotund. 

“She’s quite chatty, no? Cooed the whole time I had her in my arms,” he tells Pooja.

“Oh yeah. Baby’s been doing that non stop these days. Almost like I gave birth to a pigeon,” she laughs.

“She’s real cute, ya. It’s a good thing she takes after her dad. We were all worried that she was going to end up a கருப்பு குட்டி (dark skinned baby - derogatory) like you.”

Layla’s jaw drops, watching the older man prattle about how she should add some saffron to her milk to help boost her own complexion. Pooja’s face falls but she doesn’t say anything, opting to look down at her shoes.

“Uncle,” Layla interrupts his monologue. “That’s incredibly rude, what you just did. You just insulted her at her own brother sangeeth, dampening her mood. It’s not okay to say whatever thought that pops into your head. Or did you not realise கறுப்பி (blackie) here also has feelings like you. How would you feel if I called you a bald fat man? I’m sure that even if her baby was dark skinned, they would have loved her just as much as they do now. And I think it’s high time you stopped talking like that to anyone.”

“Look, you’re being disrespectful! Apologise-” he starts before Pooja cuts him off.

“I don’t think she was very respectful with what she just said, Uncle. If anyone was being disrespectful here, it’s you. Now, if you could excuse us.” She turns her heel and walks inside the restroom with Layla following behind her after giving the man a dirty look. 

“Can’t believe I just did that. Feels quite liberating. If I can only muster up the nerve to do that with some of my relatives.” Layla shakes off the pent up energy that was still left over from her confrontation. “Shit, I don’t know if I caused any trouble for you,” Layla tells her, pulling out a sheet of tissue and handing it over to Pooja.

“You didn’t. Thank you so much,” she says, with a sniffle. She dabs the tears away from the corner of her eye before they have a chance to stream down her face and ruin her makeup. 

“It’s just a tissue,” Layla chuckles. 

“No, for standing up for me. I can’t believe people calling me கறுப்பி (blackie) affects me even now as a thirty year old. I’ve been called that a lot growing up and I’ve convinced myself that I don’t care. Apparently, I still do.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that does to your self esteem. I don’t get why people are so hung up on colour. We’re all brown, are we not?” 

“True. Colourism fucking stinks.”

Layla agrees, digging out her lipstick from her sling bag. “You know when I was born my dad told me the first thing he did was let out a sigh of relief because I had a lighter skin. I still don’t get how that could be one’s first thought when they look at their child for the first time.”

“The first thought I had when my daughter was born was ‘not again’ because they’d asked me to push again to deliver my placenta.”

“Gross,” Layla laughs, holding up the berry coloured lipstick wand to her lips. “Don’t let people let you feel like you’re less than just because you have more melanin in your skin. If it’s any consolation, I think you’re very hot,” she feels a warmth spread across her cheeks.

“Oh yeah?” Pooja giggles, adjusting her nose ring.

“Have quite the crush on you,” Layla winks.

“Just the confidence booster I needed. Thanks, babe.”

The rest of the night goes by smoothly without any uninvited comments from strangers. Although Layla noticed the Uncle giving her disapproving nods from time to time, which she brushed off easily. Pooja, Ashwin and Dhruv came over and pulled Harry and Layla to the dancefloor and that’s how the rest of the night flew by - dancing to Ranjithame, Thaikelavi, and Thodakkam Mangalyam. Layla’s positive that all the dancing made her burn off all the parottas and okra fry she’d managed to scarf down from the buffet. Anne, Earl, Vasanth and Abi had all joined in for the cha cha slide and let out surprising laughs when Vasanth and Layla raps Ludacris’s part flawlessly when Yeah played. 

It wasn’t long into the night that Abi, Vasanth, Anne and Earl decided to head home leaving Layla and Harry dancing along. Halfway through the dancing, Kadhal Sadugudu pours in through the speakers. The two blush thinking back to the time Harry had gone down on her for the first time as the familiar strums of the guitar reverberates through their heart strings. 

Harry had ducked down to whisper, “Let’s get out of here,” against the shell of Layla’s ear and that’s how the two of them ended up in the emergency stairwell of the hotel, with Harry pressed up against the wall.

Layla is on her tippy toes, her hands ravenously tugging the locks at the back of his head while their tongues swirl around. Harry mewls when she gives him a hard pull, pulling her face even closer to his with the way his palms cradle her cheek. 

“Fuck, need you,” she pants into his mouth as his lips make their jaw down her jaw to that special part in her neck. 

“You’ve got me, Lails. Right here,” he murmurs with honesty, pointing out that she’s had him wrapped around her pinky and that he’s out here in the stairwell ravenously making out. 

“Oh,” she whimpers, as he sucks on the spot near her jugular and she can’t help but rub on his clothed fattening prick to reciprocate the pleasure singing through her veins. 

“Been handsy with me the whole day. That badly gone for me, yeah?” He smirks against the nape of her neck. 

“Yeah. Been super horny all day, I must be ovulating or something.”

He laughs, the boyish one that makes him straighten up and throw his head back as his eyes disappear behind the crinkles in the corner and his dimples flaunt their full glory. 

“What?” She asks, poking his side.

“Ovulating?” He shakes his head, wiping the tears from his eyes with a toothy grin. “You’re so lucky I’m willing to look past your ineptness at dirty talk because I love you. Now come on, let's get out of here.”

////

The windows of his Range Rover were fogging up despite the frigid temperature of the pouring rain outside. Harry had quickly zipped the two of them to the lookout spot in Chapel Hill. The minute he’d turn off the ignition their lips found each other again with a ravenous lust, as they both climbed to the back seat unceremoniously. They’d been whispering dirty promises and exchanging passionate kisses as For Emma, Forever Ago was crooning through the speakers. 

He licks and nips on her chest as Layla fiddles with the small gold hoop in his ear. “I really like this. Makes you look like an arrogant prick,” she remarks as her chuckle cuts off into a surprised gasp when Harry suckles a mark on the plush of her breast.

“Never not insult me when we’re having sex, dickhead,” he laughs, booping her nose. 

“It’s a rite of passage at this point. Like how you call me sweet girl.”

“I do not call you sweet girl only during sex,” he says with faux defensiveness, swooping her now shoulder length hair away from her neck.

“Ow!” Layla flinches with the tug at her earlobe, hands coming to detangle the hair that had knotted itself in her earring.

“Fuck. Sorry, baby. I didn’t-” Harry begins, his deft fingers help her get her hair out of the way before she rips some of it off.

“No, I should have taken them out the second I got in the car. Not very practical,” she remarks, taking off the giant jimikis and tossing them on the passenger seat. She sighs in relief when she massages her angry red lobes, shoulders sagging. “Now where were we,” she smirks, hands looping around his neck, nuzzling her nose against his.

It doesn’t take long until Layla’s lipstick is smeared all over Harry’s mouth with each heated kiss. Fading berry stained tattoos haphazardly trailed down his unbuttoned chest. They’d both managed to maneuver her poofy skirt and tossed it on the dashboard right next to his trousers and briefs. Layla pumped her fist around his throbbing dick in a tantalising pace that made him blurt out a bead of precum. “Love feeling you get hard in my hands,” she says, swirling the bead around his ruddy pink head as his chest heaves in wanton. 

He grunts when the tips of her fingers tease his frenulum, wrapping his fist around her hair tugging it back as her boobs press right up against his face. “Sit on my face. Sit on my face, Lails,” he murmurs, voice hoarse with arousal.

“Later.” She tells him, searing an ardent kiss on his mouth, as desire voraciously spreads through her body. “Want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” His fingers dance against her engorged clit, making her choke out a breath.

Even under the dim yellow light from the roof of the car, Layla could tell that his pupils were blown out in desire. She licks down the column of his throat as he dips two fingers inside of her.  “So bad.” She moans when he gets knuckle deep, the cold metal of his rings tingling against the heat from her centre, scissoring them as he savours her warmth. 

“Getting so wet for me,” he pants into his mouth as he speeds the ministrations of his digits, curling them up to coax her sweet spot. “Love you so much you know,” his hot breath washes against her ear and all she could do was give him a garbled moan as her fingernails sinks into his shoulders, using them as leverage when she moves her hips to aid him in sending her over the edge. 

“Gonna come,” Layla warns.

“Want you to come around me, sweet girl.” He whispers, retracting his hand and licking her slick. He makes quick work with the condom rolling it down his length, and tugging himself for good measure.

Layla heedlessly peels off her blouse down her arms, climbing onto his lap. She sinks down on him, as Harry lines himself up, the sensation making the two cry out. Harry scrunches his eyes shut as her scorching hot walls squeeze around him. “Missed this,” he confesses, when she settles against his lap. They haven’t had sex since their fight and Harry wants to travel back and smack himself for acting like a proper knob and pulling his shoulder. 

“Missed feeling you inside me too, Har.” She moans, she’s had him in her many times but the stretch when he slips in was delectable every single time. She raises herself up using her knees but he’s quick to hold her down.

“Gimme a couple of minutes. Haven’t done this for a hot minute and I’m trying hard not to nut.” She gives him her signature evil smile as she squeezes her muscles around him.

“Mother of fuck, baby,” he moans out loud, a hand curling on the headrest of the front seat. “Are you trying to end me?!?”

Layla laughs, and squeezes her pelvic muscles around his throbbing dick again enjoying the way his jaw drops with the way his breathing hitches. “Bet I can make you come with -” She yelps when Harry swats her bum.

“Did you just- Dude, you just spanked my ass!”

“Wanna come with you, dickhead,” he whines, hands tracing down her thighs before making their way up to palm the globes of her ass. 

She presses a kiss on his lips, a gentle chaste one, as she traps his bottom lip with her teeth. She uses the muscles of her thigh to rock slowly, as he helps her along. 

Licentious moans cut through the sound of heavy rain outside as Layla quickens her pace, despite the protest of the muscles in her inner thigh and calves - dancing around in her high heels for a whole night was catching up. She brushes it aside, using her knees to bounce on him to move them to the edge, as his mouth toys with her nipples, suckling them.

“Oh, Har,” she noisily groans, when he thrusts up making her jolt up. 

Layla steadies herself by clinging on to his neck, as she moves her hips in circles, giving her clit the friction it craves. Harry’s lips crash with her, teeth clanging as his tongue greedily licks into her mouth. The heat from their core ravenously makes every cell in their body ablaze with desire. 

He wordlessly brings his hand up to hers, where it was clutching his neck, and squeezes hers as a form of encouragement. “Choke me,” he pleads into her mouth. 

She cautiously presses her hands to the sides of his neck to create more pressure and it makes him whimper. Her pace stutters as one of his hands slips down to rub harsh circles on her clitoral hood and that’s all it takes for her to pulsate around him. 

“Say it,” he whispers as he pushes a few rouge strands of stands away from her sweaty face. They were both so close to tumbling over the edge, hearts pounding against their chest, sweat dripping down their backs, wet sound of skin slapping against each other as they move in tandem, stealing each other's moans as they tumble out of their mouths. 

He didn’t need to clarify what he wanted her to say, she knew it and her hands migrates from his neck to cradle his face in her palm as her eyes flicked up to him. “I love you,” she says with sincerity, as she comes, quivering as the waves of her orgasm wash through her.

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He follows suit immediately after, from her words as her walls flutter around him, he thrusts up three times before burying his head in her chest as he spills into the condom. He could feel her heart pounding against his cheek, a heart that has now fully let him live inside. He knew they belonged in each other's heart, so it was easy for him  to bare it to her, and now she did too. He softly kisses her chest, right over her heart, closing his eyes as they come down from their highs as the speakers in the strums of the guitar echo the last lines from Re:Stacks.

It’s the sound of unlocking and the lift way

Your love will be

Safe with me.

////

“This is a great sign,” Layla declares, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she stamps her coral cream blush onto her cheeks.

“How so?” Harry pokes his head out from her bathroom, turning off the noisy hair dryer. Beads of water trickle down his chest from the shower and her eyes follow their journey to where he has a white towel secured dangerously low around his hips. 

“Corrections mean they are willing to print it in their journal.” 

Anne and Harry had come over to Layla’s to get ready for the wedding. Anne needed help with draping her saree and Abi suggested that they get ready together, and Harry had just followed suit thinking he could hop in the shower to get a quickie in with Layla. But when he’d walked in, she was already sitting on the floor in her robe, doing her eyeshadow with her hair meticulously braided and pinned back.

“It seems like a lot to do with their deadline. We have to run the stats again,” he says, walking over to stand behind her, teasing his hair with his fingers and setting them in its place.

“They’ve given us a week. We just need to eliminate some outlier scores and run the t-test again. I don’t know why I didn’t catch on to the fact that the tests didn’t come out significant despite the difference with standard deviations,” she shakes her head, before dropping her brush and picking up an egg shaped sponge to blend out her blush.

“I was the one who ran those tests. I should have figured too,” he mumbles. They had woken up to an email from the publisher asking them to make a few corrections to the paper they had submitted. 

“It happens to the best of us,” Layla shrugs. 

“I have two shoots this week.” He grumbles.

“I’ll do it. If I focus, I can finish it in a day tops.” She spritzes her face with some setting spray, and fans her face with her hands. 

“That’s not fair to you. We’re coauthors.”

“I'm not gonna take away your credit or something,” she chuckles, twisting back to look up at him. 

“Do you not want me to do it with you?”

“I didn’t say that, Harry.”

“I feel like you did. You did this all the time in college, did you not? Work on group assignments yourself because Layla’s the smartest and professors worshipped the ground you walked on.”

“You’re turning this into a me problem,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I offered to help. You don’t get to do that. Check yourself.” She gets up brushing past him, picking up the saree that she’d laid on the bed.

“Just tell me that I’m not smart enough, so you’d rather do it yourself,” he tells her. “Come on, Layla. You know you do.”

“I never said that, I’m sorry you feel that way. But none of what I said was intended to make myself seem smarter than you. I just didn’t want you to stretch yourself thin. I know you have a job and I didn’t want you to feel like it was your fault to fix.”

Harry takes a shaky breath in, “Sorry, it really fucked with my head that most of the edits were the parts that I did. I’ve had a long break from academia and I’m terrified that I’ve fallen off the wagon and I can’t get back up again.”

“Come here,” she pats the spot on the bed and Harry sits. Layla drops her saree and settles next to him. “I’m terrified that I won’t be able to get back into the groove too and I only took a year long break. You can’t think like that. You still update yourself with new research, you read books - cut yourself some slack, you haven’t finished undergrad yet. There was no one I hated more than Kothari because Research Methodology was the one class I had to work my ass off. My professor held my hand through the entire journey of my first ever paper. You’ve done so much all on your own. So, I’d say you’re smarter than me-”

“But you helped me,” Harry cuts her off. 

“I helped after you put in the hours to understand. You did a giant chunk of the heavy lifting. Don’t demean your work like that. This paper would not have existed if not for you, babe.” Layla squeezes his palm to provide reassurance.

Harry sighs but she continues. “It’s minor corrections and it’s a good thing. This is not a subpar journal where they publish anything that gets emailed to them. It’s one of the leading journals for behavioural science. Ecoanxiety is such a hot topic at the moment. We have an edge over other papers - we're looking at things from an earth science and mental health point of view. The fact that they gave us time to tweak stuff means they liked it enough to feature it in their next quarterly print.”

“You’re right. I just got too in my head…”

“That’s okay,” she tells him, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “We’ll talk about it more when we get back.”

On cue, Vasanth pokes his head in the room after a sharp knock, looking at his niece and her boyfriend who were still in their clothes. “Kutti, why are you two not dressed? Aunty and Anne are almost done! You’re gonna make us late!”

“It’s a quarter to seven. Calm down, we have lots of time!”

“The ceremony starts at seven thirty, Layla! Get your ass up and put your clothes on,” he says, walking into the room, fully dressed holding one of his veshtis. “Go change in my room. Aunty is in there and will help, otherwise you’ll take forever.”

“Ugh! You need to chill. We’ve got forty five minutes-”

“No, we don’t! The drive to the venue takes twenty minutes-”

“Fine. I’ll go,” she grumbles, picking up the green silk fabric and walking out of the room.

Vasanth shakes his head mumbling to himself in Tamil. “Here,” he hands the gold fabric to Harry. “The straps have velcro on them, so it’s easy to wrap around.”

“Can you give me a hand, please?” Harry asks nervously, he watched a tutorial on YouTube but still was unsure on how the veshti was going to stay in place.

“Of course, Harry.” Vasanth locks the door as Harry heads to the bathroom to put on his boxers. 

 Harry wraps the cloth around his hips as Vasanth helps him tug and tuck it firmly into place. “There,” Vasanth says, stepping back to check if things look okay. “You can let go now, Harry.” He notes chuckling at the way Harry’s clutching their makeshift skirt to his body.

“Is it okay if I wear a belt?” Harry asks, eyes wide. “What if it comes undone?”

“Well it won’t unless you step on it but I think it’s better to be on the safe side. Mine did come undone once.”

“Really?”

“Yup. It was my first time wearing a veshti. It was at my cousin’s wedding and my Dad had helped.” He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“No way! Did you step on it?” Harry asks, lopping a belt around his waist and shimmying it down to the gold border.

“Layla did. She just started walking - it wasn't so much walking, it was more waddling. I remember it so well,” heat floods his face from the embarrassing memory that was etched into his brain. “I was laughing with my cousins at the back of the room. She was calling for me, squirming from her mothers arms and reaching for me. Her mother put her down and everyone’s eyes were on her because it was the first time the extended family got to see her walk. She managed to toddle all the way across to my feet but tripped on the carpet and came tumbling down. She managed to grip onto my veshti bringing it down with her.”

“Shit,” Harry says, pursing his lips to hold his laughter back.

“You can laugh,” Vasanth says. “I’d managed to hold onto it before I flashed my underwear to everyone. No one cared though, they were busy tending to her crying. My cousins never let me live it down though. One even managed to film it.”

Vasanth noted that Harry skipped the matching gold silk shirt of his and had buttoned on a satin green shirt. Harry gave him a shy smile and told him that he’d wanted to match Layla. The master walk in closet was filled with giggles and the strong scent of hairspray for it being very early in the morning. When the boys walked in to hurry them along, Harry caught Layla pinning jasmine onto his mother’s hair. She was wearing the same outfit from Vasanth’s wedding -  sans the heavy jewellery, it made Vasanth sigh wistfully thinking how quickly years flew by. Vasanth had hurried over to his wife, kneeling down to help her fix her saree pleats, and to help slip on her wedges. Abi had clipped on a nose ring on Layla that she pulled off in minutes, saying it made her feel like she was about to sneeze. Harry and Layla had even managed to sneak into her room and recreate the Gucci and Crocs pose - one of Layla sitting on his lap, Harry’s hands looped around her waist as Layla cradles his face smushing their noses together. By seven fifteen, everyone was ready and was herded into the car by Vasanth, they’d made their way to the venue. 

////

The bright orange and yellow leaves had been replaced with barren branches. Everywhere Layla looked had small mountains of dried leaves piled in the corner of people’s yard. The days were becoming shorter and colder. The temperature in the evenings dipped down to a four and two and Layla was learning to adapt to it. There were patches in her face, where the skin felt stretched thin and started to hyperpigment, Abi had given her one of her heavy duty moisturisers to help curb it. Layla had been begrudgingly using the thick cream on her face, cursing her water like gel moisturisers for not being occlusive enough. The plunge of the temperature also came with Layla complaining that the heating was not enough for her at night. Instead of turning the thermostat high to warm up the whole house, Vasanth purchased a portable heater that she religiously plugged in, next to her bed, at night. 

On the other hand Layla was delighted to drink soup almost everyday. She had access to many cuisines here than she did back home, so this particular afternoon, she had ordered a tub of Tarhana Çorbası and vegan shawarmas for Harry and Earl. Harry had popped in the For Emma, Forever Ago vinyl - he’d picked up earlier that day from the store - on the record player, and the croons of Creature Fear filled up the room. 

“So, he made this album by himself in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?” Earl asks Harry.

“Uh huh, he got his heart broken and moved to his father's cabin in the middle of winter and wrote this to help himself heal,” Harry replies, spooning some soup into his mouth.

The two were in deep discussion for the past hour, and Layla was happy to sit back - wrapped in a fluffy throw - listening to the two talk animatedly about the arrangements, the use of stripped back production and how the scratches in the recording added a level of intimacy. 

“That’s not entirely true,” Layla chirps in.

“So Emma is not his girlfriend?” Harry asks.

“I think she is but Justin Vernon said that it was more of a headspace. The pain one gets stuck in.” Layla picks up the oyster mushroom that had slipped out on the plate from her roll and pops it into her mouth.

“Interesting,” Earl says, reaching forward to grab a glass of water. “The lyrics are very vague. Hard to discern.”

“Layla has all sorts of theories. She was the one who introduced Bon Iver to me. She’ll ramble for hours.”

Layla laughs. “I only went on a deep dive for re:Stacks. It is such a sad song-”

“I don’t think it is. I think it’s a very hopeful one,” Harry cuts her off, cheeks staining a deep red as he remembers their moments of passion in the backseat of his car.

“I disagree. I think it’s of him finally making his peace with sadness and acknowledging that it will always be a part of him. But I can see how it could be hopeful as well.”

“Isn’t that hopeful, Layla. Coming to terms with distress?” Earl asks, scratching his brow.

Layla brows furrow when she notices Harry’s lips move downward in a frown but doesn’t linger on it, turning her attention to Earl.

“Again art is subjective and this is my two cents, but I don’t think sadness passes nor does grief. Speaking from experience, it’s like a tidal wave at first consuming every cell in your body. You get pulled in by the current and when you manage to break through to the surface and take a breath, everything is wonderful and then after sometime there’s another wave. And I think that’s how it is until one day the waves become weaker and you’re becoming better at paddling away. It doesn’t mean the waves aren’t there and it won’t pull you under if you stop paddling,” she explains.

“You can swim to an island. Just saying,” he shrugs. “Some people choose to be in the water, almost like they want to romanticise suffering.”

Are you implying that I do that? Is the question Layla wanted to ask but she holds back, settling on arching her eyebrow at him instead. “I suppose, but swimming takes up a lot of courage. Just food for thought. The island thing makes sense too.”

Earl clears his throat. “There’s no wrong answers in art. How far along are you with the edits on your paper?” 

“We’re almost done. Just a few more hours,” Harry says.

The two tell him more about their paper, and Layla tells him that this is her first paper where the coauthor is not one of her professors. Earl lets Harry and Layla know that he’s proud of them and that he has a bottle of champagne in his fridge they’d open once it’s their paper gets published. The conversation turns to the wedding and Layla explains some of the traditions that happened in the ceremony for Earl, using Google to confirm certain things. When they’re done eating, Layla throws their takeout containers in the trash as Harry loads up the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. Earl hands his wife’s cookbook to Layla and she quickly takes a snap of the Crawfish Étouffée recipe she wanted to try out for dinner. Harry runs to the loo before they head out to the post office as Layla heads over to the living room and slings her tote - one with the three paintings that she needed to ship - over her shoulder. 

 “Shopping?” Layla asks, handing over the green Gucci bag that he’d asked her to get from his office.

“Yes but not for me. It’s for Harry.”

“Cute,” she chuckles. “You already wormed his way into his heart with Gucci.”

“Harold,” Earl calls out, when he hears the flush in the bathroom.

Harry saunters into the kitchen island, looking at the two with expectant eyes. “Hmm?”

“I know I bought Layla tickets to Disney as a thank you for helping out, so I thought I’d treat you too.”

“You did. The trip to Disney World. I’m going too,” he shrugs, looking over to Layla wordlessly asking her what he had up his sleeve.

“Yeah but I still wanted to get you something. Here,” Earl hands the sage green bag over to him. 

“Gucci? Uh… thank you. This must have been so expensive,” he says, looking into the bag.

“It’s not like I’m taking my money to the afterlife. Open it, will you,” Earl urges.

Harry pulls out the small box in the bag and undoes the white bow. His eyes bug out of his head when he pulls the lid off, and bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself composed.

“It’s a charm. I didn’t know what to get, so I’d settled on the one fruit you beeline to when you visit me,” Earl explains. “I’m not familiar with jewellery. Hell, I hadn’t bought one since my wife passed. But you pull them off so well and -” he’s interrupted by Harry’s snickering.

“Harry, stop laughing! You’re being very rude,” Layla says and Harry bursts out laughing, hand coming to clutch his peck as his green eyes disappear behind the crinkles, dimples stretching out as the two blocky front teeth make their full appearance.

He wordlessly pushes the box over to her and she sneaks a peak and starts giggling along with him. “Earl! It’s a-” she breaks out in a cough, which only seems to spur on their laughter. “That’s not a ban-” Harry howls, wiping down the tears that escape from his eyes.

Earl picks up the luxurious box that Layla had abandoned on the counter, and squints to get a better look at it. It was an oxidised silver charm, with a pop of yellow for the peel. It looked like an ordinary banana, he didn’t get why the two were on the hunched over his counter gleefully giggling.

“Glasses,” Layla manages to get out. “Please put them on,” she barks out.

He slides the pair that was hanging off the pocket of his shirt and pushes it up the bridge of his nose. The tiny charm comes into focus again, and this time he notices the subtle grove at the tip of the fruit, and it was something he hadn’t noticed while he was ordering from his computer screen because he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead of it being an innocent gift, it  had turned out to be a phallic symbol. “Oh dear,” he mutters feeling the heat flood his face.

“It’s a penis,” Layla snickers.

“No. No. A banana penis!” Harry chakles. 

“We can return it,” Earl says. “We could get something else. There was this ring-”

“No returns! I l want my banana penis!” Harry interrupts, taking the charm and sliding it on the chain with Layla’s help, adjusting it until the banana penis proudly hangs in front of the gold cross against his chest.  

////

Despite a thick duvet covering the two of them, Layla had the air conditioner turned on in the home theatre room in fear that the PlayStation would overheat and explode. It wasn’t an irrational fear, but the whizzing of the fan got noticeably louder with each passing hour as she played. But the machine had quietened down when she’d turned on The Blair Witch Project. The DualShock no longer had a blue glow it did settling into nothing as it powered down after several minutes of inactivity. 

Harry was splayed out on top of her, quietly snoring into the crook of her neck, nestling in between her breasts as one of his hands clutched the material of her ratty tshirt. He’d strolled into the home theatre room late afternoon in a hoodie and the tiniest shorts and flopped on top of her grumbling about taxes. She’d  pulled up the movie on her console to help him unwind, only to find him out cold forty minutes in. She wonders if it’s due to exhaustion or if he was freaked out. Mitch had  told her found footage horror gives Harry the ‘heebie jeebies,’ when they were watching Paranormal Activity on FaceTime - where he snoozed through the second half of the film. She wonders if it’s a way to get out of watching the movie; she rarely ever woke him up and he ended up blissfully unaware.  

When the infamous scene with an up the snotty nostril shot of one filmmakers, her phone repeatedly buzzes. She squints at the display, eye slowly adjusting to the bright screen from the dull cast of the projector, to find that it was a group FaceTime request and it doesn’t take long for her thumb to swipe across the screen. Her friends’ face beams from the rectangular squares echoing a varied response of hellos. 

“Wassup wassup?” Layla says quietly, reaching for her controller to pause the movie. 

“Are you sleeping? We can barely see your face right now,”  Heidi says. 

“Why are you whispering?” Grace asks. 

“Was watching a movie and someone’s fast asleep,” she replies, tapping the button to flip the camera to show them the brown locks of Harry’s crown. She flips it back to her face soon after, the free hand that’s not propping up her phone slithers inside the hem of his T-shirt to draw aimless teardrops down the skin of his back. 

“She’s such a hypocrite,” Ramya shakes her head. “She’s such a snob about watching movies with us and her boyfriend gets to droll all on her when the movie’s playing.”

“I’m not a -”

“You are!” Susan cackled. “You kept shushing us every five minutes when we watched It at Sathyam.”

“You all were making jokes from the minute it started. It ruined my immersion,” she shrugs. 

“You and your immersion. You ruined clowns and the circus for me, you fucker.” Heidi flips her off. 

“Why did you come to the movie about a murdering clown then?”

“Shut up,” Heidi sticks her tongue out at her.

“I guess taking sexy pictures and posting them online is laborious,” Ramya comments at Harry snoozing away.

“Okay. That’s enough,” Layla’s eyes narrow.

“It was a joke! Not judging,” Ramya throws her hands up.

“He actually works hard, which is wild to me because I thought OnlyFans was the easiest thing to do. Like he works out everyday because he feels like he needs to because people are paying him to look a certain way, and then there’s the planning of the shoot and the editing. The editing takes forever,” Layla sighs. “He was telling me yesterday that there was this user who was being demanding with him, that it crossed a lot of boundaries.”

“Can’t he just block them?” Grace asks.

“It’s not that easy. This dude has been tipping him - quite generously - and been a subscriber for a while now, so if he did block him, he’d have to give back all the money he’d ever sent to him.”

“That fucking sucks! That’s the site’s policy? I assumed for it being one of the main platforms of adult entertainment, they’d have more stuff in place to protect the creators,” Susan sighs.

“Yeah. I read some of the messages and it’s scary but he’s dealing with it. This is not his first time, apparently.”

“How long does he see himself doing this?” Grace asks.

“I don’t know. He started it to not be financially dependent on his mum after the move. And education is fucking expensive here, unless you get a good scholarship - which I am sure he would. But he likes doing it, I think. His shoots are quite creative and I think he likes the idea of expressing himself…so I don’t know,” Layla shrugs.

“Did he manage to save up? Or..” Ramya trails off.

“Oh yeah. He’s managed to save up quite a bit. His closet has a good chunk of designer stuff - Gucci especially. He owns a two bedroom flat in London that he rents to his friends. He drives around in a fucking Range Rover. He gets me expensive things… He has an accountant and all. He had a meeting with him earlier this afternoon. I think they have to file taxes in two months, so he was talking about W2 or 1040 or something. He’s rich. Scrooge McDuck rich. Richer than all of us,” Layla whispers, emphasizing the last part. Right before he’d flopped on her - tired from his meeting - he'd told her that he’d got a great return from the IRS.

“Speak for yourself,” Heidi chuckles. “I just saved up all my money from Wollys and invested in three gold biscuits.”

“You never told us,” Grace says.

“Yeah and I live with you!” Susan accuses.

“Appa (Dad), sends me money every month anyway for everything. So I saved up all my Wollys money and asked Appa what’s the best way to freeze it because with each passing day I just wanted to spend it, so he’d bought gold biscuits.”

“Next time you decide to be all wise, let us know, so we’d make sound finance decisions too. I was just gonna put all the money the college is paying me in the bank,” Layla says.

“I managed to save two lakhs from my alary and I put it in a fixed deposit,” Ramya says.

“I haven’t even thought of how I am going to save,” Grace says. “And I get paid next week.”

“Next week?”

“Oh yeah, Susan, I get paid bimonthly.”

“How was your first week at your first proper job?” Layla inquires. 

“Fun. Scary. Felt like a proper imposter the entire day. Especially the first day when my manager was showing me around and telling me about all the departments, I was like what the fuck am I doing here with all these smart people.” Grace replies, “Especially since I was the youngest. The clothes helped a bit. Thank you for that by the way.”

They had got on a call three weeks ago to help Grace decide on her best officey outfits, what to keep and what to return. Layla had been no help half asleep in the middle of the night telling her that she’ll look great as long as everything was black. 

“Did anyone compliment your outfit?” Ramya asks. 

“Nope. They all wear jeans and T-shirts. My manager was wearing ripped jeans when she was showing me around. I was told by my coworkers that it’s casual unless they have to be in a meeting with a third party. So I’m glad I only kept three outfits and returned the rest.

“But I’m still figuring out what I’m doing and the office culture and all that but with each passing day, I surprisingly handle it,” Grace tells them. 

“Alright! That’s how you kick ass! Watch out New Zealand government, Grace is coming!” Heidi exclaims. 

“Speaking of kicking ass at the workplace,” Susan says, “Ramya here looked so much like a teacher on her story yesterday!” 

“Oh my god, yes! That kaajal bleeding down and smeared, and her hair in that unflattering bun,” Grace agrees. 

“That bindi and her jhumkas. Everything was so perfect!” Heidi chimes. 

“Yes, I’m so glad that you find my underpaid, overworked teacher at an NGO look hot,” Ramya says dryly. “Now stop flirting with me.”

“Don’t be like that! I need you to teach me a lesson, mommy,” Layla teases. 

“You’ll be a good girl now, won’t you?” Ramya giggles. 

“Yes. I. Will.” Layla says without missing a beat, making everyone crack up. 

They ask Ramya what her plans are for her birthday and she tells them that she’s planning to take off from work that day to try and sleep in, go out for lunch with her parents and brother, and head to a slam poetry event she was performing at. When asked why she didn’t want a party, Ramya told them that she would most likely go to some afterparty thing at one of the performers houses - parties with those types of crowd were invariably filled with cigarettes, tetra packs of Old Monk Rum, plastic bottles of coke, and  one person pulling out a guitar to sing along. Layla despised that crowd but she did go to one of those after parties once on Ramya’s insistence, only to book it home thirty minutes later - when her wheezing flared up from the incessant huff of tobacco smoke of the crowd -  after her mother’s face lit up her phone screen and three texts from her father. She was eternally grateful for having the world's strictest parents that day. Meghna and Ramya had officially parted ways, Meghna didn’t want to get into a relationship with someone who didn’t want to be with just her and Ramya respected that. She had been dealing with the heartbreak better than what Layla and her friends anticipated. They’ve chalked it up to all those videos that Ramya had sent of them detailing the tantric sex escapades she’s been having with Krishna - who was tagging along with Ramya to the afterparty. Layla sniggered while watching them before agreeing with everyone that all of Ramya’s hippie dreams are materialising with her new girlfriend.

“Guys please tell Heidi to stop making friends with the men I bring home,” Susan exasperatedly groans. 

“Excuse me?!? Fuck you! What do you expect me to do when there’s a man standing in his ஜெட்டி (boxers) in my kitchen early in the morning?” Heidi counters. 

Layla sucks in her lips to keep herself from laughing at the two, but Ramya and Grace giggle.

“You need to stop Heidi,” Grace says, “It makes it harder to boot them to the curb.”

“I thought you didn't bring boys home. You usually go to theirs and slip out no?” Ramya asks.

“I did but this boy-”

“Okay! I’m gonna tell them!” Heidi cuts Susan off.

“Don’t you dare bitch!”

“She’s bonded with this boy,” Heidi whispers to her friends, like Susan wasn’t on the call and in the room right next to hers.

“I have not!” Susan vehemently shakes his head.

“You don’t bond with anyone!” Grace whisper screams. “How?”

“Because he-” Heidi stops bursting into a fit of laughter.

“What?” Layla, Ramya, and Grace all ask in unison.

“It’s nothing,” Susan insists.

“It’s not n-noth-nothing,” Heidi manages to sputter between bouts of giggles. 

“Tell us!” Ramya insists.

Heidi takes her glasses off to wipe the tears that have streamed down her cheeks. “Last week-”

“You promised not to tell!” Susan says.

“Don’t listen to her. Tell us!” Layla urges Heidi.

“So, Susan was doing it with his guy last week and I get a call at like one in the morning-”

“I swear to God,” Susan groans, hurrying up from the bed, leaving her phone to flop over and have the camera point to the white popcorn ceiling. Three seconds later, they see Heidi’s door burst open to have Susan stomping over and Heidi’s camera frame shakes as a squabble breaks out in Tamil.

“They were fucking so hard and he managed to yank her earring and split her earlobe in two!” Heidi howls in laughter and Susan smacks her shoulder, cursing her.

“Aiyo! Christ!” Layla gasps.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Grace asks concerned.

“How did it even happen?” Ramya implores. 

“I made her promise not to tell,” Susan mumbles, falling onto Heidi’s mattress in defeat.

“Why not? It’s just us,” Ramya says.

“It’s embarrassing! People in the emergency room were laughing,” Heidi snorts. 

Susan lifts her hair up and out of her face to show them her right ear lobe, which now had a white bandage taped over it. “It doesn’t hurt. Had to get my lobe sewed together though. The doctors said they’ll take out the stitches in a few days and I can wear earrings after it fully heals. It happened so fast. We were doing it hard and fast doggy style and I think he bent over to pull me up or to grab onto my hair - anyway and the next minute there was blood and he had my hoop in his hand. Safety tip from now, if you’re wearing big earrings, especially hoops, take them off before you have sex,” she mumbles sheepishly.

“I had to go to the emergency room and thank fuck for insurance but after I knew that she was okay, I laughed for like ten minutes, because I thought she was dying or something,” Heidi explains.

“I wish I did. It was mortifying,” Susan buries her face in her hands. 

“Ever since then, the dude’s come over a lot since then and he's also Tamil and likes Vijay movies, so my friendship with him  was instantaneous,” Heidi shrugs.

“A man with a fine taste,” Layla agrees. “I’m with Heidi on this one. Anyone who’s a fan of Vijay is an automatic friend.” 

Susan rolls her eyes, when Grace beats her before she says something, “Is he feeling guilty? Is that why he’s coming around?”

“He is definitely guilty but we just sit and watch 80's Tamil movies together now.”

“Who knew that ripping Susan’s earlobe in half was all it took to ignite some type of feels,” Ramya chuckles. “What happened to that white British boy you were hooking up with from your class?”

“Oh, he’s been avoiding me like the plague because he insisted on anal and I told him it’s only fair that I get to do it to him before he does it to me,” Susan shrugs. “I think it’s a fair trade.”

“It totally is. Dudes should know what the experience is like. Jake has been trying to do anal with me  for like three months now and I can just about tolerate the second biggest buttplug,” Grace says. 

“And you don’t wanna?” Layla raises her brow. 

“God no. I like giving up the reins when I’m having sex. Like the bed is the only place when I love being submissive.”

“I don’t think I’d survive being with someone who owns a penis,” Ramya grimaces. “I don’t know how you all do it.”

“What’s their obsession with putting it up your colon? Like is the one designated hole not enough for you?” Heidi rolls her eyes.

“I have no clue either. But I think Layla and I are on the right track with these Brits though,” Susan says.

“What track might that be?” Layla questions.

“Colonising the colonisers,” Susan’s eyes glint mischievously, and everyone bursts out laughing. 

“Colonising the colonisers,” Layla repeats her pun, shaking her head as she snorts and guffaws. Harry startles awake from the way her body convulses beneath him.

“Wha’?” He blinks lazily, propping himself up to look around.

“I’m sorry, babe. Susan said something funny. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she softly says, cradling his face, cooing as she gets him back on her chest. 

“Huh,” Harry lets out a small sound, eyes already drifting shut from the way Layla’s fingers move his hair away from his eyes, and the lazy scratches, from blunt nails of her other hand, down his back. 

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, Har. It’s alright.” She lulls him back, waiting for a few moments after his breathing evens out before picking up her phone to find her friends pouting.

“Who knew you could be so gentle,” Grace teases.

“Can you come put me to sleep like that?” Heidi chuckles.

“Okay. Okay. Shut up.” Layla rolls her eyes. “I’ve become a softie. Let’s move on.”

“How does it feel to have a buttplug in your bum?” Ramya asks Grace. “How do the logistics work?”

//// 

Deepavali in Chicago looked vastly different from Deepavali back home in India. If Layla was with her parents, then the entire house would be in shambles - cardboard boxes everywhere, piles of old books, newspapers, and clothes to give away. Her mother scrubbing every crevice of the house, her father up in the lofts demanding that Layla hold on to the step ladder so he could get down. Her grandmother vigorously sifting rice flour and prepping to make poli, achumuruku and thattu vadai to gift friends and family. Her grandfather calling her every three hours asking her what firecrackers she wants from the shops, even if it’s been years since she had the desire to light up a sparkler. Distant sounds of boom and a gleeful laugh of children echo from the street on the days leading up to the day, praying out to the gods to part the grey clouds for sunshine, so they can burst all the new crackers they’ve stashed away.

Layla had chalked up Deepavali at Apex to be more of the same with the neighbours and the throng of Indians her Uncle and Aunt were friends with; she'd even imagined lighting up a sparkler with Harry in the evening. Her notion of an almost homey celebration was dispelled the minute Vasanth had told her they were leaving for Chicago to celebrate with Senthil, his first cousin. They’d initially planned to pop over to Layla’s other Uncle’s after the New Years but that quickly fell through when her flights got preponed a week. So, they packed their bags and flew over to spend four days with Senthil. 

His two bedroom flat was sparsely decorated, the grey walls had nothing lively bouncing from them to permeate guests with warmth. Layla tutted with disappointment when she walked into his bedroom to find him still sleeping on a blowup mattress. 

“You’ve been here for ten months and you didn’t have time to buy a bed?” She’d asked him. 

“I sleep in the hospital, kutti. You think I have time to come home, much less decorate it,” Senthil reminded her. He moved to the States for a three year foetal and neonatal surgery program at Leurie’s. 

Being the youngest of the cousins, Senthil practically was closer to Layla’s age. So, when he’d taken Layla, Vasanth, and Abi to see the lit up trees at the zoo their first day of visiting, he begged Layla not to call him Uncle in front of his friends. But Layla being Layla came up to him as he was waving his friends off, “Can we head to the gift shop and get the giraffe soft toy, Uncle?” She tugged at the end of his coat sleeve, giving him and his friends her sweetest of smiles. 

When his friends’ brows dipped, gazes moving to and fro from Layla to him, “I became an Uncle when I was seven,” he muttered sheepishly, readjusting the scarf around his neck. 

When they’d left, he locked his arm around her neck, yanking her to him to twist her ear. “Happy now, குட்டிச்சாத்தான் (demon baby)? Come I’ll get you your toy,” he rolls his eyes, walking in the direction of the gift shop.

“I don’t care for one,” she giggled. “Just wanted your friends to know that you have a grown ass niece.” She shrieked, running towards Vasanth and Abi for cover when Senthil chased after. 

Deepavali morning consisted in all of them bundling up heading to the Chicago Bean and bimbling around the neighbourhood, in the early hours. Grey clouds and sticky skin was replaced with biting frigid wind and pink noses. They started on making lunch - or a very late breakfast - getting on FaceTime calls with Layla’s mum and grandmother to guide them along in making the dishes, so they’d taste like they were cooked back home. This Deepavali was quieter, less about celebration but more of enjoying each other’s presence. Layla could not remember the last time she did that with the people back home. Layla was grateful that she wasn’t given the lecture of why paying respects to the Gods is vital from her parents and grandparents and disapproving of her atheism. As much as Chicago’s Deepavali was distinctive from the one’s she’d had back home, she finds herself missing the chaos and fanfare of Chennai. 

“So you’re not going to be a clinician and practice?” Senthil asks, peeping at Layla’s laptop screen; she was filling out applications for schools.

“I didn’t enjoy my clinical or counselling internships. The fun ended right after I figured out the diagnosis. I’d much rather work behind the scenes, plus it’s not like I won’t get to use my psychotherapy skills in research, especially with participants.”

Vasanth turns around walking towards the two, with a ceramic bowl in hand. “Admissions have started ah?”

“Yeah. They have been for the past week. Already done applying to University of Boston and UMass. Thought I’d apply for Northwestern when I’m in Illinois.” She picks up the bowl from Vasanth, and starts mixing the hung curd, honey, and turmeric into a paste with the spoon.

“We’d be so close! Northwestern is like thirty minutes from here!” Senthil exclaims, adjusting the flimsy plastic shower cap on his head. “I could drop you off everyday.”

Layla laughs, noting the way Vasanth frowns at the corner of her eye. “Don’t go making plans yet. It’s a private uni and it depends on my stipend and fee waiver.”

“Yeah and you're heading back to India in two years, so she’d have to look for apartments smack in the middle of her doctorate when your fellowship is done,” Vasanth reminds him

“Or she can just stay here and find a flatmate,” Senthil tells him. “Four more applications to go. Deadline’s the first of December. Seems like you got this,” he pinches her cheeks, before grabbing the television remote. 

When Abi keys into the apartment, with a plastic bag containing all the ingredients they need to make Mysore Pak, the sight in front of her cracks her up. She had all but popped over to Trader Joes for two hours and was mystified about the things that transpired in that short time span. Senthil had a transparent shower cap on and Abi could make out the slick paste of black hair dye underneath. Vasanth had his hair pushed back in one of her hairbands and had a thick goop of pastel yellow paste spread evenly on his face and neck. Layla’s hair was oiled, tied into a braid with her bangs clipped away and donned the same yellow mask on her face as her Uncle. Abi’s sure this is all her niece’s handiwork; she had a knack of making her Uncles bow down to her whims. The three were dancing in the middle of the living room rapping Madai Thirandhu from the noughties. 

////

Harry refreshes his inbox again, maybe his MacBook was glitching. He rubs the sleep away from his drowsy eyes, making sure his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. Maybe it was just a dream, the kind that starts out with rolling out of the bed with unruly hair, reaching over to his pen and journal from his nightstand, and being distracted by a chime from his laptop. 

A notification pops up on the top right of his screen signaling that Layla had sent him an image, he clicks on the text instead opening up his iMessenger screen to a selfie of Layla standing underneath the Chicago bean. Her hair was up in a ponytail, bangs pushed to the side, her face being swallowed by a fuzzy red scarf as she winked at the camera.

Layla: happy deepavali from the bean!

Harry: Morning Morning! How’s the celebration coming along?

Layla: we’re just planning to eat until our stomachs are ready to pop. oh and senthil uncle says hi!

Senthil had swiped through Layla’s photos from her trip to Wilmington as she was animatedly talking about her much needed beach day. He found the picture of Harry making kissy faces at the camera on the oyster boat, and Layla immediately snatched the phone away as a knee jerk reaction. He’d laughed when she went teary eyed beseeching him to not tell anyone in India. Senthil was surprisingly cool with it, but it didn’t mean that Layla was spared from the lecture about relationships and responsibility.

Harry: Hello to Senthil Uncle! He’s the one who was in fourth grade when you were born right?

Layla: affirmative. miss you lots 🙁

Harry: We FaceTimed last night, remember? 

His face floods a wash of pink recalling their desperate whines and lewd grunts as they helped each other relieve themselves. He went to bed with a dopey smile on his face when he’d pressed the red button wishing her happy dreams.

Layla: how could i forget… made me lose my bearings from 800 miles away 👀

Harry: And don’t you forget it!

Layla: i’m being shouted at… gtg. see you tomorrow morning! i bloody love you babe 😘  

Harry: Love you too Lails!

He closes the program to be met with his inbox again. Letting out a heavy sigh, he opens the email again frowning when it doesn’t change. As eyes scan the words ‘Dear Mr. Styles,” his stomach churns knowing what's coming next but before he could read it again, he’s gunning it to the toilet slapping a hand over his mouth. 

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

[kanhai-jewels]

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[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

June: Weddings

Singh is Kinng / Katrina Kaif as Sonia

This garment (specifically, the skirt) is called a lehenga. Various websites describe this one as "contemporary" and "western-influenced," and the use of teal is apparently a notable feature.

(Saw this movie years ago when I was making a project of watching multiple versions of the Damon Runyon story "Madam La Gimp." I started with the original Lady for a Day and then went on to Pocketful of Miracles, Mr. Canton and Lady Rose--aka Miracles, aka Black Dragon--and finally, Singh is Kinng.)

Sadly, I couldn't find a high-def source for the movie, and we never get a really good full-length look at the outfit during the film itself. We have to rely on publicity shots for that. But here's a close-up of the embroidery and beading on both Sonia's skirt and the groom's coat.

[samkkshopping]

Designer Lehenga:

A designer lehenga, also known as a designer lehenga choli, is a high-end and intricately crafted version of the traditional lehenga outfit. It is created by renowned fashion designers who infuse their artistic vision, creativity, and expertise into the design. These lehengas are known for their luxurious fabrics, intricate embroidery, and exquisite embellishments, making them a popular choice for weddings, receptions, and other grand events.

Designer lehengas come in a wide variety of styles, colors, and fabrics. Fashion designers use premium materials such as silk, satin, velvet, georgette, and organza to craft these outfits. The lehenga skirts are often adorned with intricate zari work, sequins, beadwork, and other embellishments, showcasing the skillful craftsmanship of artisans.

The choli (blouse) of a designer lehenga is equally important, and designers often experiment with unique cuts, necklines, and sleeve designs to add a contemporary touch to the traditional ensemble. Some designer lehengas also come with trendy cape-style cholis, off-shoulder designs, or heavily embroidered blouses.

The dupatta (scarf) that accompanies the lehenga is another significant aspect of the outfit. Designers may add embroidery, borders, or embellishments to the dupatta to complement the overall look of the ensemble.

Designer Lehenga Types: Different types of lehenga At Samyakk offers 

Designer Bridal Lehenga: These are the most elaborate and ornate designer bridal lehengas specifically designed for brides. They often come in traditional red, maroon, or other auspicious colors, and are heavily embellished with intricate embroidery, stones, and sequins.

Party Wear Designer Lehenga: These party wear designer lehengas are suitable for various festive occasions, parties, and gatherings. They are generally less heavy than bridal lehengas but still feature intricate designs and luxurious fabrics.

Reception Designer Lehenga: Reception lehengas are worn by the bride for her post-wedding reception. They are usually more contemporary in style compared to the traditional bridal lehengas, and may feature lighter embroidery and modern silhouettes.

Bridesmaid Designer Lehenga: These are bridesmaid designer lehengas worn by bridesmaids to complement the bride's outfit. They are often coordinated with the bridal lehenga in terms of color and design but are less elaborate.

Indo-Western Designer Bridal Lehenga: This type of designer lehenga blends Indian and Western fashion elements, combining traditional lehenga aesthetics with modern cuts, drapes, and silhouettes.

Fusion Lehenga: Fusion lehengas incorporate elements from different Indian cultures, creating a unique and eclectic look. They may combine embroidery styles from different regions or mix fabrics creatively.

Pre-stitched Lehenga: These lehengas come pre-stitched and are easy to wear, offering a hassle-free option for those who prefer convenience without compromising on style.

Choose the designer lehenga that best reflects your personal style and the occasion, and embrace the magnificence of this timeless Indian ensemble.

[storytellersumayyah]

TGATL DEFINITIONS/GUIDE

To help everyone enjoy the story more, I've created a definitions of list. It will be updated as the story progresses, and if there's anything you come across that you don't see on here, just let me know and I'll add it on!

Bajhi: older sister (often used when the people are closer relationship wise)

Nikkah: Muslim marriage ceremony- means the marriage is Islamically recognised (a marriage certificate is still signed in other countries so the marriage is also legally recognised)

Imam: religious leader who has the power to marry people and often is found in the masjid leading the prayers

Salam: Islamic greeting

Hijab: there are different types, but here it refers to the fact that Noor covers her hair when she goes out or is with men that are not closely related enough for her to not wear it

Lehenga: a type of Asian dress that is normally worn to parties, especially by brides at their wedding. It's made up of a top and a skirt, both of which are often highly decorated

Halal: permissible in Islam

Nasheed: a type of song that usually only uses drums

Dua: prayer

[fabmeca]

Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli

Introduction: The Indian wedding season is all about lavish celebrations and grandeur. And what better way to add some glamor to the occasion than by adorning a beautiful lehenga choli. A lehenga choli is a traditional Indian outfit consisting of a skirt, blouse, and a dupatta. It is the perfect attire for brides, bridesmaids, and wedding guests. In this blog post, we will be discussing one such stunning lehenga choli - "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli."

The Design: The "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli" is a beautiful ensemble that is sure to make you stand out. The skirt of the lehenga choli is made of a flowy blue fabric that has been intricately embroidered with sequins. The sequins catch the light beautifully and create a magical effect, just like the stars in the midnight sky. The choli is a sleeveless blouse that complements the skirt perfectly. It is also embellished with sequins and features a deep neckline, making it perfect for brides who want to flaunt their statement jewelry. The dupatta is a sheer blue fabric that has been bordered with sequins, adding to the overall charm of the lehenga choli.

The Color: Blue is a color that is often associated with serenity, calmness, and stability. It is also a color that is believed to represent trust, wisdom, and confidence. The "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli" is perfect for those who want to break away from the traditional reds and pinks and opt for something unique. The deep shade of blue used in this lehenga choli adds an element of sophistication and elegance, making it the perfect choice for brides who want to make a statement on their big day.

The Occasion: The "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli" is a versatile outfit that can be worn for a variety of occasions. It is perfect for brides who want to wear something other than the traditional red or pink lehenga on their wedding day. It is also a great option for bridesmaids who want to match their outfit with the bride's, while still standing out. Additionally, it can be worn to formal events, such as engagement parties or receptions, making it a great investment piece that can be worn multiple times.

Accessories: The "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli" can be accessorized in a variety of ways. Since the choli features a deep neckline, it is the perfect opportunity to flaunt some statement jewelry. A heavy choker or a long necklace would complement the outfit beautifully. You could also opt for statement earrings or a maang tikka to complete the look. When it comes to footwear, a pair of embellished juttis or stilettos would work perfectly.

Conclusion: The "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli" is a stunning ensemble that is sure to make you stand out. Its intricate sequin work, deep shade of blue, and versatile design make it the perfect choice for brides and bridesmaids who want to make a statement. With the right accessories, this lehenga choli can be dressed up or down, making it a great investment piece that can be worn multiple times. So, if you're looking for something unique and elegant for your big day, consider the "Midnight Magic: A Blue Sequined Lehenga Choli."