#diwali special suit

[pyoorofficial]

Light Up Your Diwali with Beautiful Pakistani Kurta Sets

As Diwali approaches, families across India are busy preparing for this vibrant festival of lights. One of the most exciting aspects of the celebration is choosing the perfect attire, and there's nothing quite like a Pakistani kurta set to capture the essence of this joyful occasion. In this post, we’ll dive into why these outfits are the go-to choice for Diwali and how you can make them work for your festive celebrations.

Why Choose Pakistani Kurta Sets?

Pakistani kurta sets are beloved for their stunning designs, rich colors, and comfortable fabrics. They strike a beautiful balance between tradition and modern style, making them perfect for any occasion. Whether you’re headed to a family gathering, a Diwali party, or a religious ceremony, a diwali suit will ensure you look polished and festive. Plus, the variety of styles available means there’s something for everyone.

Picking the Right Colors

When it comes to selecting a Pakistani kurta set for Diwali, color matters. Traditional shades like gold, red, royal blue, and emerald green truly embody the festive spirit. These colors symbolize joy and prosperity, adding to the overall celebratory vibe. A vibrant diwali suit can really uplift your mood and make you feel special as you join in the festivities.

Fabrics That Feel Great

The fabric of your Pakistani kurta set can make all the difference in comfort and style. For Diwali, lightweight and breathable materials like cotton, silk, and chiffon are ideal. Cotton is great for keeping cool as you mingle with friends and family, while silk brings an element of luxury to your look. Chiffon adds a delicate touch, making it perfect for evening celebrations. Choosing the right fabric ensures you not only look fabulous but also feel comfortable throughout the festivities.

Beautiful Designs and Embellishments

One of the things that sets Pakistani kurta sets apart is their gorgeous designs and intricate details. From delicate embroidery to stunning beadwork, these outfits often showcase remarkable craftsmanship that reflects the rich heritage of Pakistan. When selecting your diwali suit, look for unique patterns and details that resonate with your personal style. Whether you prefer traditional motifs or modern cuts, there’s a kurta set out there that tells your story.

Styling Your Pakistani Kurta Set

To pull together a complete look with your Pakistani kurta set, pay attention to styling. Accessories can really elevate your outfit—think statement earrings, beautiful bangles, and eye-catching rings that reflect your personality. Pair your diwali suit with comfortable yet stylish footwear, like juttis or embellished sandals, that add flair without sacrificing comfort. A lovely dupatta can also add an elegant touch to your ensemble, making you feel graceful and festive.

Perfect Occasions for Your Attire

The beauty of Pakistani kurta sets is that they can be worn for more than just Diwali night. These outfits are perfect for various occasions throughout the season, whether it’s family gatherings, religious ceremonies, or casual get-togethers. Each event calls for a different style, so having a few diwali suits in your wardrobe lets you express your individuality while staying true to tradition. Choose heavier kurtas for grand celebrations and lighter ones for more intimate gatherings.

Shopping for Pakistani Suits Online in India

Thanks to the digital age, shopping for Pakistani suits online in India has never been easier. Many online platforms offer a wide range of styles to fit every taste and budget. When you’re browsing for your outfit, be sure to check size guides, read customer reviews, and look at return policies for a smooth shopping experience. Pyoor is an excellent destination for finding beautiful Pakistani kurta sets that blend contemporary trends with traditional craftsmanship.

Caring for Your Kurta Sets

To keep your Pakistani kurta set looking its best, proper care is key. Follow the care instructions specific to your fabric, which you can usually find on the label. Gentle hand washing or dry cleaning is often recommended, especially for intricate embellishments. Make sure to store your diwali suit in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight to prevent color fading and maintain its quality.

Incorporating Pakistani kurta sets into your Diwali wardrobe is a wonderful way to celebrate the festival while embracing cultural elegance. With their rich colors, luxurious fabrics, and intricate designs, these outfits not only enhance your appearance but also contribute to the festive spirit. So, as you prepare to light up your Diwali, consider investing in a beautiful diwali suit that reflects your unique style and celebrates the joyous essence of this special occasion.

[candydreams0]

Family Twinning Clothes: Celebrate Togetherness with Style

Family twinning clothes are a trendy and heartwarming way to celebrate the special bond you share with your loved ones. Whether you’re planning a photoshoot, attending a party, or just enjoying a casual outing, matching outfits can make every moment extra special. Let’s explore the charm of family matching outfits and how they can add a personal touch to your wardrobe.

Why Choose Family Matching Outfits?

Family matching outfits are more than just a fashion statement; they symbolize unity and love. Whether it’s a casual day at the park or a festive celebration, twinning outfits create a visual connection that makes your family stand out. Imagine the joy of wearing coordinated colors and patterns that reflect your togetherness—it’s a simple yet impactful way to create memories.

Popular Occasions for Twinning

Family Photoshoots: Matching outfits are perfect for capturing timeless family portraits. Coordinated colors or patterns make your photos look professional and cohesive.

Festive Celebrations: Be it Christmas, Diwali, or Easter, twinning outfits bring festive cheer to the family gatherings.

Beach Vacations: Matching tropical prints for beachwear or resort outfits can make your holiday snaps Instagram-ready.

Birthday Parties: Whether it's for the little ones or the entire family, matching outfits make the event even more memorable.

Everyday Outings: Casual matching outfits for picnics, shopping trips, or Sunday brunches add a touch of fun to the day.

Tips for Choosing Family Matching Outfits

Comfort First: Ensure the fabrics are soft and breathable for all-day comfort.

Age-Appropriate Designs: Select styles and patterns that cater to everyone, from toddlers to grandparents.

Seasonal Themes: Opt for light cottons in summer or cozy fabrics in winter to suit the weather.

Mix and Match: You don’t have to be identical. Coordinated colors or complementary patterns work beautifully too.

Personalization: Add monograms, family slogans, or custom prints for a unique touch.

Twinning Ideas from Candy dreams

At Candydreams, we specialize in creating fashionable and high-quality family matching outfits. Here are some of our popular collections:

Festive Elegance: Matching ethnic wear for festivals and weddings.

Casual Cool: Stylish everyday outfits with playful designs.

Seasonal Specials: Holiday-themed collections, perfect for Christmas or Halloween.

Custom Orders: Tailored designs to match your unique style and preferences.

Final Thoughts

Twinning outfits not only make your family look stylish but also foster a sense of belonging and joy. Whether you’re celebrating a milestone or simply enjoying quality time, coordinated outfits make every moment memorable. Candydreams offers a variety of designs that combine comfort, quality, and style, ensuring your family stands out wherever you go.

Start your twinning journey today with Candy dreams. Let your outfits tell your family’s story, one matching look at a time!

[pujakhandelwal20]

Last-Minute Diwali Gifting Struggles? Here’s Your Go-to Gift Hamper Guide

There’s nothing quite like the joy of giving. When words fall short, a thoughtfully chosen gift can speak volumes. According to Merriam-Webster, gifting is defined as something voluntarily transferred by one person to another without compensation. It’s a simple act that can brighten someone’s day and, in turn, make your day a little brighter.  

But what happens when someone gets caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily life and suddenly realizes they've forgotten to pick up a special gift? Panic might set in, but there's no need to worry. A thoughtful gifting guide can help, offering personalized hampers tailored to suit every coffee lover’s taste and preferences, making last-minute gifting simple and stress-free.

The Perfect Gift for Coffee Lovers  

If your loved ones believe that coffee isn’t just a beverage but an experience, we’ve found the perfect gift for them. At Blue Tokai, they understand the love affair between coffee enthusiasts and their favourite brew, and their gift hampers are curated, keeping that thought in mind. Each hamper is a celebration of coffee in its many forms, designed to delight anyone who appreciates a good cup of joe.  

Whether they’re a fan of ready-to-drink coffee cans or prefer the ritual of brewing their own cup with roasted and ground coffees, tailored for their taste preferences—be it light, medium, or dark roast, they have something for everyone. Their selection includes an array of easy-to-brew Easy Pours too, that you can enjoy on your way to work or while travelling far away. And because no coffee experience is complete without the right equipment, they’ve included everything needed to brew the perfect cup.  

But it’s not just about coffee. Where there’s coffee, there ought to be something delicious to munch on, right? That’s why their hampers also include a variety of baked delights, from wholesome cookies to an assortment of pocket snacks like trail mix, roasted cashews, and nuts. These treats are perfect for pairing with coffee, making their hampers more than just a gift— an expression of our love and affection for them.  

When the festive season kicks in, you needn’t look elsewhere. Their gift hamper baskets are the perfect way to show your appreciation and spread joy. The combination of specialty coffee, paired with delicious snacks makes for a heartfelt gift.   

A Diwali party in the office and you don’t know what to get your boss? If they’re a coffee lover, they’ll surely appreciate Blue Tokai’s gift hamper boxes.

You can explore the selection of gift hampers online through Blue Tokai’s website, and Amazon where you’ll find a variety of options to suit different tastes and budgets. Simply choose the hamper that best suits your needs, and they will take care of the rest.  

Whether for a coffee lover or someone who appreciates the finer things in life, their gift hampers are the perfect way to show care—even at the last minute. So next time you’re in a gifting fix, remember that Blue Tokai has you covered. Happy gifting!

[shagunpitara]

Unique Diwali Gift Ideas for Your Loved Ones

Diwali, the festival of lights, is a time to celebrate with family and friends. Choosing the perfect gift for your loved ones can make the occasion even more special. Here are some unique Diwali gift ideas that will brighten up their celebration:

1. Personalized Gifts

Personalized gifts add a special touch. You could get custom-made items like photo frames, mugs, or keychains with their names or a memorable date. These gifts show thoughtfulness and create lasting memories.

2. Handmade Candles

Handmade candles are a beautiful and practical gift. You can find candles in various shapes and scents. Opt for ones with a festive touch, like those in the shape of Diwali diyas (lamps) or with fragrant spices.

3. Decorative Lanterns

Brighten up their home with decorative lanterns. Choose ones with colorful designs or traditional motifs. They can use them to add a festive glow to their Diwali decorations.

4. Ethnic Wear

Traditional clothing, such as sarees or kurtas, makes for a stylish and appreciated gift. You can choose from a range of fabrics and designs to suit their taste and the festive mood.

5. Sweet Treats

Diwali is synonymous with sweets. Instead of the usual store-bought boxes, consider gifting homemade sweets or gourmet treats. You could also include a recipe card for a personal touch.

6. Artisan Crafts

Support local artisans by gifting handmade crafts. This could be anything from intricate jewelry to beautiful pottery. Artisan crafts are unique and help your loved ones discover something special.

7. Eco-Friendly Gifts

For those who are environmentally conscious, eco-friendly gifts are a great option. Think along the lines of reusable items like bamboo utensils, organic cotton bags, or plant-based products.

8. Subscription Boxes

Subscription boxes are a fun and ongoing gift. Choose one that matches their interests, whether it’s gourmet foods, books, or beauty products. They’ll think of you every time their box arrives.

9. Indoor Plants

Indoor plants not only add a touch of nature to their home but also help purify the air. Choose low-maintenance plants like succulents or peace lilies that are perfect for indoor settings.

10. DIY Gift Baskets

Create a personalized gift basket with a mix of their favorite items. You could include snacks, candles, beauty products, or small gadgets. Tailoring the basket to their preferences shows extra thought and care.

Choosing a gift that reflects the personality and interests of your loved ones will make your Diwali celebrations even more memorable. Happy Diwali!

[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, குட்டிச்ச��த்தான் (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!

[maybeimamuppet]

matildamas day 12: christmas eve

hello everyone!! happy christmas eve to all of you who celebrate and welcome to the last chapter of the 12 days of matildamas! it’s been an absolute delight seeing all of your reactions to these each day. thank you so much for all the kind words in your comments and every vote/kudos/like/reblog and all those wonderful things. they’re definitely the best gift i’ll get this christmas :))

tw for

discussion over the reality of santa

mentioned previous abuse

mentioned death

otherwise please enjoy the last day and merry christmas!!

—————

“Mummy?”

“Yes, lamb?” Jenny responds.

“Is Santa Claus real?” Matilda asks softly. Jenny pauses.

“What do you think?” she responds softly before she continues fiddling with the tinsel on the tree. Matilda ponders this.

“I don’t think so. I wasn’t always nice, but I don’t think I ever warranted a spot on the naughty list, and I still never got anything from him. And it doesn’t seem possible for a single person to be able to fly ‘round the whole world in just a night, even if he is magic. And accounting for time zones,” Matilda says. She frowns a bit and adds, “But I did have telekinesis.”

Jenny laughs and sits on the couch, beckoning her over. Matilda sits next to her and leans into her side. Jenny gently rubs up and down Matilda’s arm as she explains.

“You’re right, he’s not real in the way we usually think. There’s no magical man in a red suit who flies around with reindeer. That’s just an old tradition from a few different cultures that we keep going for fun, and to entertain children. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not real.”

“What do you mean?” Matilda asks, looking up at her.

“Well, what does Santa Claus do?” Jenny asks.

“He… delivers gifts to well-behaved children,” Matilda explains. “And eats cookies.”

“Exactly. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think you have to be magical and wear a silly costume to be able to do those things. Santa is all about the spirit of Christmas, and there’s plenty of things you can do that make you the real, live Santa Claus. Giving gifts to friends, enjoying some special holiday treats, being kind to people you meet and spreading joy. Spending time with family. All that is what Santa is about. So whenever you do those things, you’re sort of like Santa Claus, in a way.”

“Oh,” Matilda says with a soft smile. “I like that.”

“I like it too,” Jenny says with a grin. “Now, what do you say we channel our inner Santa and eat some of these cookies we made, hm?”

Matilda nods eagerly and goes rushing off to the kitchen to fetch the container. Jenny chuckles and follows her.

—————

Mrs. Phelps joins them for a lovely Christmas Eve dinner. Mrs. Phelps doesn’t celebrate Christmas herself, and Matilda is delighted to learn all about the Diwali traditions she’s recovering from preparing with her family last month. She invites them to join next year, and Jenny has to admit she’s only slightly less excited than Matilda, who starts dancing in her chair and nearly falls.

“You’re more than welcome to join us for Christmas dinner again next year as well,” Jenny says, selfishly hoping she agrees.

“I’d be delighted,” Mrs. Phelps replies. Jenny smiles sheepishly down at her ham and mashed potatoes, and gives a warning glare in response to Matilda’s smirk across the table.

Once their bellies are all stuffed, Mrs. Phelps very kindly helps with the washing up and gives them their Christmas gifts. Matilda excitedly hands over hers (a very nice new lemonade pitcher) and Jenny’s (some of her favorite books as donations to the library bus) as well.

“Merry Christmas!” Matilda says as they wave Mrs. Phelps goodbye in the cold night. She replies in kind and waves until she’s out of sight.

“Alright, my little elf, bath time for you,” Jenny says, hugging Matilda tight before sending her up the stairs and closing the door to block out the chill.

“Will you help?” Matilda asks quietly from the top. Jenny smiles and follows her upstairs.

“Of course.”

She runs some warm water into the tub and plugs the drain, before adding in some gingerbread scented bubbles and folding Matilda’s towel and pajamas on the counter to wait for her so she won’t get chilly when she gets out. Matilda smiles as she sees the foam rising from the tub and carefully slips off her Christmas dress. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, love. I’ll be downstairs, give a shout if you need anything,” Jenny responds, kissing Matilda’s forehead.

“I will,” Matilda says. Jenny smiles and leaves her to her bath in privacy.

—-

Matilda comes downstairs after about an hour, clean and dry in her jammies and smelling absolutely delightful. “All clean?”

Matilda nods happily and plops herself on the ground at Jenny’s feet. Jenny chuckles and reaches for the hairbrush and comb. She pretends to complain, but this is secretly one of her favorite parts of having a daughter. Getting to do this little thing to help the very mature six-year-old care for herself.

She tenderly brushes all the knots out of Matilda’s damp hair and twists it into a braid down her back. Matilda tips her head up once she hears the small rubber band snap into place. “Thank you.”

Jenny chuckles, leaning down to kiss her nose. Matilda scrunches it with a giggle. “You’re very welcome. I’m off for my shower, and then maybe we should get a nice fire going?”

“Oh, yes please,” Matilda says, moving so Jenny can stand.

“Sounds like a plan,” Jenny says. “Just wait ‘til I get back, please.”

“I will!” Matilda says in exasperation, grabbing a book from the shelf to keep herself occupied in the meantime.

“I mean it.”

“I know,” Matilda says. Jenny almost gives her a talking to for the eye roll she uses to accompany the words, but Matilda’s loving smile as she peeks at her over her book undoes anything Jenny was feeling.

“Cheeky. Back in a tick,” she says. Matilda nods and tucks in to her book. Jenny grabs a soft towel from the linen closet and heads into the bathroom herself.

Her hair doesn’t need washing today, so she tucks it delicately beneath a waterproof cap as she slips off her clothes. She turns the water on and waits for it to warm, smelling the lingering aroma of Matilda’s gingerbread bubbles. She hums to herself as she reads the bottle and sees it doubles as body wash. Sold.

She lets out a relieved sigh as she steps in and the hot water runs over her skin, melting all the stresses of the holiday season away with it. She rolls out her shoulders and her neck to get rid of some tension and just stands there for a minute.

Jenny knows she didn’t have to push herself this hard to make Christmas magical for Matilda. She wanted to. She may have gone a little bit overboard, but it is Matilda’s first Christmas. She thinks. She hasn’t actually asked what Christmas was like for Matilda before, but Matilda’s said some things that lead her to believe it was never a very jolly time.

She bought and made tons of presents, enough to spread well away from the tree and a few boxes tall. She wrapped them as neatly as she could manage in pretty paper and shiny bags, with ribbons and bows and glittery tissue paper adorning them.

They’ve made no fewer than six batches of cookies and eaten them all before the day was out, and made handmade decorations. They spent all day playing in the snow together earlier in the month, and had some delicious hot chocolate to warm up afterwards. They put up and decorated the tree together, and made a cracking Christmas Eve dinner, if Jenny does say so herself.

But most of all, they’ve spent the time together. They did everything together. Usually one of them or the other is busy with school or friends or other commitments, and although they make it a priority, they haven’t had this much time to spend just with one another in a very long time.

And it’s been wonderful.

Getting to spend so much time one-on-one with her has reminded Jenny just how bright Matilda truly is. She’s brilliant, and she’s funny, and rambunctious and mischievous and sweet and loving and everything Jenny could possibly want for her daughter to be.

And Matilda is hers.

Jenny scrubs herself clean with the gingerbread body wash and rinses quickly, before toweling herself dry and changing into her own pajamas as quickly as she can so she can rejoin her daughter downstairs.

Matilda looks up at her as she hears her creaking down the stairs, already a solid third of the way through her thick book. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Jenny responds. “How’s the book?”

“It’s different in English,” Matilda responds, sounding neither pleased nor upset about it. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Hm. Well, you’ll have to let me know if it’s a good or bad different once you finish it,” Jenny says. Matilda puts Tolstoy to the side and sits up, looking curiously at Jenny.

“Are we making a fire now?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Jenny chuckles. “Little pyromaniac.”

“You brought it up!” Matilda defends. Jenny laughs and beckons her over for a hug.

“I did. It’ll be nice once we get it going, but we have to brave the outdoors to get the wood,” she says. Matilda slumps a bit against her, and Jenny laughs again.

They both put their slippers on and look at each other. Jenny nods, and Matilda undoes the lock and pulls the door open. They run out onto the porch and around to the side of the house where the wood pile sits, squealing at the cold and the damp of the snow. They grab as many logs as they can carry before running back inside and slamming the door shut behind them, bursting into peals of laughter.

They didn’t get much, but they got enough wood to have a nice fire going for at least a few hours. They deposit their logs by the fireplace in the living room. Matilda watches curiously as Jenny stacks them inside, looking to see how she does it.

“Would you like to light the match?” Jenny asks knowingly. Matilda nods happily and scoots closer. Jenny is nearby to prevent a disaster, but she knows she probably would do worse at it than Matilda.

It takes a few tries, some fanning, and some encouraging words, but eventually they have a roaring fire and close the little grate so they can feel the warmth without getting the carpet covered in ash.

They sit back, on the ground and against the sofa, both looking proudly at their creation. Matilda leans against Jenny’s arm and hugs it gently.

It’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds being the creaking of the house and the peaceful crackling of the fire.

Eventually, Matilda asks softly, “What was Christmas like when you were a kid? When your father was alive?”

“Oh, they were wonderful,” Jenny begins fondly. “We had huge dinners on both Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Big and hearty. And filling, my goodness. My father said they never came out as good as when my mother cooked them, but I always thought they were absolutely delicious.”

Matilda looks up at her. Jenny looks back, leaning her cheek against the top of Matilda’s head, and continues.

“He always put a photo of her up on the mantel, and he hung her stocking in between ours. We decorated the tree together every year. He’d always say he wasn’t tall enough to reach the tippy top, so he’d pick me up and let me put the angel on. He put up streamers and stickers on the windows and lights way up on the roof and tinsel everywhere. He had this ancient Bing Crosby Christmas record that we’d always listen to, and he’d sing along. I always thought his voice sounded like chocolate. Rich and smooth.

“We used to make food for the reindeer. It was just oats and colored sugar, but I thought it was absolutely magical. We’d leave it on the porch and some cookies for Santa on the bench. I always asked to wait for him so I could say hello, so my father would put on his coat and get me all bundled up, and I’d sit outside on his lap and watch for the sleigh in the sky until I fell asleep.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Matilda says softly. Jenny smiles.

“It was,” she replies in a whisper. “And I always, always got to open just one present on Christmas Eve.”

That gets Matilda’s attention. Jenny laughs.

“Would you like to?”

Matilda nods. Jenny sends her over to the packed tree.

“Pick one. Any one,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back to watch. Matilda grabs a small, flattish box wrapped in red plaid paper with a gold bow and looks at her curiously. Jenny nods, so Matilda scoots back over to her and gently tears the paper off.

She carefully opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper inside. She tips her head when she sees what’s inside. “A scarf?”

Jenny smiles, pulling out the white scarf and wrapping it gently around Matilda’s neck. “My mother made this for me when I was still a baby. To match hers. I was always looking at it, even as such a little one. My father said she spent weeks knitting it for me and I never went anywhere without it. I found it in the attic a few weeks ago.”

Matilda gently holds the end of the woven thing in her hand and looks up at her. “You’re giving it to me?”

“Of course,” Jenny says, wiping a tear from Matilda’s cheek. “I have the real thing now. And I know my mother would’ve loved to see it passed down to her grandchild. That’s your own special white scarf, now.”

“I love it,” Matilda says softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Jenny responds, gently patting her cheek. Matilda suddenly stands and goes running off. “Where are you going?”

Matilda thunders up the stairs to her room and back down so quickly Jenny is worried she’ll fall. She returns with a small, neatly wrapped gift. The taping job is a little shoddy, but it’s otherwise very well done. “Here.”

“For me?” Jenny chuckles. Matilda nods.

“Oh, but… it’s all I could get for you,” she says sadly. “If you open it now you won’t have anything to open tomorrow morning.”

“Would you rather I wait?” Jenny asks, resting her hands gently on the gift.

“…No. Unless you want to.”

“I’ll have just as much fun watching you open your things. Let me see what you’ve gotten for me,” Jenny says. She gently undoes the paper and gasps softly as she pulls out… a book. The book.

“Mrs. Phelps helped me,” Matilda says shyly. “But I wrote it myself.”

“This is what you were working on so hard?” Jenny asks with tears brimming in her eyes. “All those drawings?”

Matilda nods. “Yes. Do… do you like it?”

“Oh, darling, I love it,” Jenny says, letting out the softest of sobs as she pulls Matilda right to her. Matilda clings to her neck and rests her head on her shoulder. “I can’t believe you wrote a whole book just for me. I’m so proud of you, your first book.”

“Thank you,” Matilda says, sounding the slightest bit choked with how tight Jenny is hugging her.

“Can I read it?” Jenny asks as she lets her go. Matilda nods.

Jenny rests it carefully on the ground and opens the front cover, lying on her stomach in front of her to read it. Matilda lies next to her and watches both the pages turn and Jenny’s reaction to them.

The Butterfly and the Bird, by Matilda Kate Honey

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful hummingbird. She had green plumage and a blue tail. Her grey wings carried her gracefully between all the flowers in the meadow she called home.

She was also a very special hummingbird. It was her job to teach all the baby hummingbirds how to collect nectar from the flowers, too. She had done this for many years, and was very good at it.

One day, a little blue butterfly fluttered over and landed on the top of her beak. “Hello,” cheeped the hummingbird.

“Oh, Miss Hummingbird, you must help me,” the butterfly pleaded. “I see you teaching all the other hummingbirds how to collect nectar from the flowers. My butterfly parents won’t teach me, and I’m so hungry. Will you please help?”

“Oh,” said the hummingbird. “We are different species. I’ve never taught a butterfly before.”

The butterfly looked defeated and began to flutter away.

Before she could get too far, the hummingbird chirped, “But I’ll try as hard as I can.”

They flew off across the meadow together, pausing at all the best-looking flowers so the butterfly could learn. The hummingbird found out that even though the butterfly didn’t know how to collect food, she knew lots of other things. The butterfly knew the names of all the flowers, and all the grasses that grew in the meadow too. The hummingbird thought this was very interesting.

After that first day, the butterfly came bright and early to join the class of the hummingbirds. The hummingbird smiled every time she saw the butterfly, and let her ride between the blossoms on her head so the butterfly wouldn’t get tired trying to keep up.

But their lessons didn’t go unnoticed.

In the meadow, there was a big, terrible, ugly, mean old hawk. So big and so terrible it could’ve swallowed them both up in a single gobble.

Everyone was afraid of the hawk. The hummingbird was very afraid of the hawk. As a fledgling the hawk had nibbled on her wing and made it too hard to fly. She had been stuck in one place for many, many, many years until her wing had gotten better, but she still flew the slightest bit lopsided.

One day after hummingbird school, the hawk approached the hummingbird. “Hello, Miss Hummingbird.”

“Hello,” the hummingbird replied politely.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the hawk said with a snarl.

“There is a young butterfly across the meadow. I’ve been teaching her how to collect nectar with my other students so she doesn’t starve.”

The hawk tilted her head and sneered at her. “A butterfly? In a hummingbird class?”

“Yes. She’s very smart,” the hummingbird says.

“Ridiculous. Butterflies can’t be smart. They don’t even have brains!” insisted the hawk.

“Of course they do! And this one has a big one,” the hummingbird said bravely.

“Are you calling me a liar?” growled the hawk.

“N-no, of course not,” stuttered the hummingbird.

The hawk took big, slow steps, closer and closer until their beaks were nearly touching. “Then listen when I say. You are forbidden from teaching the butterfly any more. You’d better listen. You know what I can do.”

The hummingbird couldn’t do anything except nod frantically. The hawk got up and flew away to her tree overlooking the whole big meadow.

The next day, the butterfly came flying over for class like always. The hummingbird looked at her sadly as she landed on her beak. “Oh, dear butterfly,” she said. “I’m not sure I can help you anymore.”

“Why not?” the butterfly asked after a moment’s consideration.

“My boss says I can’t teach you anymore,” the hummingbird explains. She apologized and said they would have to figure something else out. “We will have to figure something else out. I won’t give up on you.”

The butterfly smiled and tickled the hummingbird with her antennae in appreciation. Before the hummingbird could respond, the butterfly lifted up and started flying away.

“Where are you going?!” the hummingbird called after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you tomorrow!” the butterfly replied.

The butterfly came back the very next day. Nothing seemed any different to the hummingbird. “Hello again, little butterfly.”

“Hello,” the butterfly replied.

“What was so important yesterday?” the hummingbird asked.

“Oh, I just had to check something,” the butterfly replied. The hummingbird was suspicious, but she didn’t mention anything. “Has the hawk done anything?”

“Not recently,” the hummingbird replied, flying after the butterfly into the meadow.

“I watch from my bush sometimes. I don’t think the other hummingbirds you teach like her very much either.”

“No, I don’t think they do,” the hummingbird admitted.

Suddenly, they heard a snap of a beak and a snarl from behind them. “Miss Hummingbird.”

They both froze and slowly turned around. “Y-yes?”

“I told you not to see this butterfly ever again,” the hawk said threateningly.

"You did.”

“Then why did you? Do you not fear what I’m capable of?” the hawk growled, stepping closer and closer to them on its terrible legs.

The hummingbird stood fast, trembling from beak to bottom. “I do. But I won’t let this creature suffer because of your rules.”

The hawk leapt at them, snapping its terrible beak and flying after them as fast as it could.

“Run!” yelled the butterfly, and they both took off. They ran and ran, over the meadows and through the woods, as fast as they could, with the hawk chasing them all the way.

Eventually, they made it to a very particular tree. They both landed on a tiny, thin branch way, way up high, too thin to support the hawk’s weight.

To the hummingbird’s surprise, all of her hummingbird students were there too, sitting next to a massive pile of the itchiest pollen the butterfly had gathered during her lessons. Everyone took a clump in their wing, and hurled it at the hawk.

They bonked and bounced and hit the hawk from every angle, but still she persisted. Then, the butterfly took one clump, the last one, in her little wing and threw it as hard as she could. It hit the hawk square up the nose, and she sneezed so hard she flew backwards for miles and miles, and was never seen again.

The hummingbird took over as queen of the meadow, and the butterfly moved into the closest bush. Every day they met for tea, and every night they took turns sleeping in the others nest.

And all the air, and all the land, and even all the water, belonged to them, together.

And they lived happily ever after.

Matilda has been gazing intently at her face the entire time she read, looking for every small little hint of emotion. Jenny carefully flips the last page over and stares down at the back cover. “Did… did you like it? I-it was a lot harder to write the story down instead of just saying it out loud like I usually do, so it… it…”

Jenny slowly sits up and hauls Matilda into her lap, squeezing her tight and burying her face in her hair. She tries not to let Matilda see her cry, but she feels a few tears slip out of her closed eyes. “Oh, Matilda. I loved it. This is my favorite book I’ve ever read. And the best present I’ve ever received.”

Matilda wiggles until her face is exposed to air once more and quietly asks, “Really?”

Jenny nods and leaves a lingering kiss on her daughter’s soft little cheek. “Well, the best gift I’ve really ever gotten was you. But it’s definitely the best book in the whole world. I absolutely love it.”

Matilda smiles and cuddles back into her. Jenny holds her close and smiles at the book still resting on the floor.

They’re content to stay like that for quite a while. Jenny gently rocks Matilda from side to side every now and again, but other than that, they’re still and silent for a long time.

“Have I got to go to bed now?” Matilda asks quietly after a while. Jenny chuckles.

“Not tonight, unless you’re tired.”

Matilda shakes her head. Jenny is confused when she pries herself from her grasp and pads over to their bookshelf. Matilda stands on her tiptoes to grab whatever she’s after and comes back. Jenny recognizes it immediately. A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens. She smiles and pats the ground next to her. Matilda pulls their cushiest blanket off the back of the couch and spreads it on the ground, and their softest one goes on top of them as they lay side by side to read.

“Do you want to read it or shall I?” Jenny asks when they’re all comfortable.

“Oh, wait!” Matilda says, and she’s off again. Jenny sighs affectionately as she hears her making a great cacophony of noise in the kitchen. She runs a hand over the smooth plastic dust jacket protecting the hard cover of the book as she waits.

Matilda comes back after another little while with two mugs of steaming hot tea carefully resting on a tray, and a large pile of the Christmas cookies they made sitting between them.

“Ooh,” Jenny says when she rests the tray on the ground nearby, but far enough away that it won’t get accidentally bumped. “Thank you, love. This is just perfect, now.”

Matilda just nods with a wide smile on her face. She settles back in and pulls the book open. “Let’s switch for each chapter. But you go first.”

“Alright,” Jenny says, sliding the book the slightest bit closer to herself and beginning to read aloud. “Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner.”

Matilda folds her arms and gently rests her head upon them, gazing fondly at Jenny, not that she quite noticed, and the out-of-focus glow of the Christmas tree behind her. The fire crackles in the hearth nearby, and they both sip slowly at their sweet tea and nibble on cookies as they read.

They don’t get too far into the book before they both get quite tired. In fact, the book lies open partway through even as they drift off to sleep just after the clock strikes midnight.

But just before they do, they both listen to the old grandfather clock upstairs chime twelve long times, and they smile the faintest bit at one another.

“Happy Christmas, Matilda,” Jenny whispers, tucking a strand of Matilda’s hair behind her ear and leaving a hand on her cheek.

“Happy Christmas, Mummy.”

And they both drifted off to a sound sleep thinking the same thing.

It’s already the happiest I’ve ever had.

—————

thank you all once again for all the love and all the reads. it means more to me than you know <3

and of course another big thank you to everyone who helped this little series happen. all of you, and especially to @churchoftheconfusedchicken (here and ao3) and @serene-sapphic (here, serenesapphic on ao3). much love to them <3

if you celebrate i hope you had a wonderful holiday season, and if you don’t i hope you had a wonderful few weeks and enjoyed these chapters.

i’ll see you all in the new year!! thank you all for making this very tough year a little bit brighter :)

lots of love,

ezzy

[v3nourz]

the letters i wish i sent #1

when u asked me to tell you abt myself i wish i told u all this

-------

 it was diwali when i was born <33 there were crackers bursting everywhere and apparently i didn't cry at all. my mum says i was a really calm baby and i’ve always been someone to not show the world that im weak and vulnerable (omg she’s different she’s not like the other babies /sarcasm). when my parents used to leave me at my grandparents’ house i used to try not to cry. i cried later after they left when i was alone. even now as someone who knows that it's fine to cry and to be weak, i don't want to show anyone that i’m hurt or weak and can't think straight. (she’s different omg /sarc)

i think of myself as a very bubbly person, i’m generally always smiling and happy. i tend to look at the positive side and nothing makes me nervous. over the years i feel i have lost the ability to be angry or feel fear and i hate it. i can’t be serious for my life so feel special i’m not making shitty jokes (is it even possible???) while writing this. basically everything is a joke to me <3 i think love is bullshit. to me love is not possible. but im also a huge sucker for kuch kuch hota hain and jab we met. bommarillu is a must too. i feel we long for certain things and qualities in people and particular behavior, and when we find that in someone, we love them. it's not love, but its like a job opening. we are the employer, we need someone to fill in the position of a romantic interest, and we expect certain qualities, and when someone has those qualities, we feel they are right for the job. and so we start to love them. and with all due respect, it's bullshit.

goals are slay <333 live in my heart frfr. i was 8 when i decided i wanna be rich (go girl pop that pussy periodt). but then i was 10 when i realized that you need to earn your own money??? (like who came up with that ew) so i had various rich profession phases, i started with musician cuz i was in justin beiber phase <3 then i went into my actor phase cuz mahesh babu just seemed really appealing to me (what even omg) then i was in my kpop artist phase cuz junglecock yes then i realized all that is lowkey weird and it wouldn't make me rich enough so then i started to look at proper professions and then in ‘21 i decided on a corporate lawyer cuz they’re so cool with their suits and cars and penthouses and their calm and collected manner <333333 perfect for me <33. in conclusion, my goal is to be rich, allah hu akbar.

weirdly, i want to be a criminal. like not the eugh disgusting kinda criminal but like the mama im in love with a criminal kinda criminal. you know what i mean? like murdering people cuz they hurt me??? ew. no. but murdering them cuz i was bored. that’s better <3. morally gray you know. 

gray reminds me. my slight obsession with kmusic. see, kpop sucks. mainstream kpop sucks. but if you listen to jimmy brown and such. it is heaven to the ears omg that shit is so mmph. anyways. krnb and khh hits hard and it is such a shame that the annoying part of kmusic is more popular than the heaven part <///////3. it is good music okay you listen to it with the idea of hating it so you don’t like it. (psychology major frfr)

dance. this is what you accuse my personality to be. i don’t say shit about your personality being only gym and fapping so… ahem. slay. dance is nice ig but what i actually like doing is writing. that shit hits hard ong bro ong <333 like words just word the right way it is better than anything. 

bdsm. that shit is nice omg so slay.

i’m the most unserious person you’ll ever meet but i love talking about serious stuff omg. i’ll go on for hours if you wanna talk about shitty politics or the world economy and all <333 

-------

[sitaram-designer]

Why Does Every Womens Wardrobe Must Have Traditional Ethnic Wear

The women's traditional clothing of a culture is an essential component of a lot of different societies, not to mention a classic fashion statement. These articles of clothing, including sarees, kurtas, and lehengas, are steeped in history, tradition, and culture, and they have the ability to lend a one-of-a-kind quality to any wardrobe. Keep reading to know why your wardrobe must have traditional ethnic wear for women.

The adaptability of traditional ethnic clothing for women is one of the primary reasons why every closet ought to contain some of this clothing. These articles of clothing are appropriate for both business attire and more relaxed settings. For example, a saree can be worn in a manner that is traditional and formal for an event like a wedding, or it can be worn in a manner that is less formal and more modern for an occasion like hanging out with friends. Because of its adaptability, the product offers excellent value for the money.

A person's cultural history can be celebrated and honored in several ways, and possessing traditional ethnic clothing can be one of those ways. These articles of clothing are an essential component of many different cultures and can be worn as a display of pride and admiration for one's ancestry and tradition. One method to honor one's Indian ancestry while also celebrating the celebration of occasions like Diwali is to dress in traditional Indian garb, such as draping oneself in a saree. You must buy traditional ethnic wear for women online for better options.

In addition, weddings, festivals, and religious rituals are all occasions that call for special attire, and one option that is both exquisite and fashionable is traditional ethnic apparel. The fact that traditional ethnic wear for women typically has sophisticated designs and is covered with lovely embroidery and embellishments makes them well-suited for the events in question. They offer a means by which one can distinguish oneself from the crowd and express one's individuality.

Traditional ethnic wear for women is not only significant in terms of culture and fashion, but they also offer a choice that is sustainable and kind to the environment. The majority of these garments are hand-woven, and they are constructed out of natural fibers such as cotton and silk, both of which are non-toxic to the environment and biodegradable. As a result, compared to rapid fashion, wearing traditional ethnic wear is the option that is more responsible and better for the environment.

Last but not least, traditional ethnic wear for women from a particular ethnic group is frequently an heirloom that is handed down through the generations. They are frequently appreciated and cared for, and as a result, they might be considered a unique thing by many people. These garments have the power to bring back happy thoughts and feelings from the past, as well as offer a sense of connection to the past.

If you have been looking for the best online womens clothing store, you may get in touch with Sitaram Designer. Our brand has the most amazing designs of traditional clothing. Shop them now!

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[ethniccollection]

Discover the Best Saree Store Near You: Ethnic Collection in Mississauga

When searching for a “saree store near me” or a “saree store Mississauga,” one name stands out—Ethnic Collection. Located conveniently in Mississauga, Ethnic Collection offers an extensive range of traditional and designer sarees that cater to various tastes and occasions. Whether you’re looking for a saree to wear at a wedding, festival, or special event, this store has you covered.

Why Choose Ethnic Collection for Sarees?

Ethnic Collection prides itself on offering a unique shopping experience with high-quality sarees that showcase exquisite craftsmanship. Their collection includes a variety of styles, from traditional silk sarees to modern chiffon and georgette designs. The store understands the diverse needs of its customers and ensures that each piece reflects the elegance and charm of Indian ethnic wear.

1. Wide Variety of Sarees

At Ethnic Collection, you’ll find sarees for every occasion:

Wedding Sarees: Intricate embroidery, luxurious fabrics, and rich colors make these sarees perfect for bridal or guest attire.

Casual Sarees: Lightweight and easy-to-drape options for everyday wear, featuring simple yet elegant patterns.

Festive Sarees: Designed with vibrant hues and detailed embellishments, ideal for Diwali, Eid, or family gatherings.

2. Custom Tailoring Services

Ethnic Collection also offers custom tailoring services to ensure your saree fits you perfectly. From blouse stitching to adjusting saree pleats, their skilled tailors work to enhance your overall look and comfort.

3. Affordable Prices

The store provides sarees at various price points, ensuring that everyone can find something that suits their budget. They frequently offer discounts and special deals, making luxury sarees accessible to all.

4. Exceptional Customer Service

Ethnic Collection’s friendly and knowledgeable staff are always ready to assist you in finding the perfect saree. Whether you’re unsure about colors, fabrics, or designs, their team ensures a stress-free shopping experience.

Sarees for Every Occasion

Mississauga’s multicultural community embraces Indian ethnic wear for its beauty and cultural significance. Ethnic Collection caters to this demand by offering sarees suitable for a wide range of events, including:

Engagements and Weddings: Opt for sarees with heavy embroidery and shimmering fabrics for a grand look.

Traditional Festivals: Celebrate in style with sarees that boast bold colors and intricate motifs.

Corporate and Casual Wear: Choose simple yet elegant designs for office wear or daily use.

Visit Ethnic Collection Today!

If you’re on the lookout for a “saree store near me” or the best “saree store Mississauga,” Ethnic Collection is your one-stop destination. Their stunning collection, coupled with excellent service, makes them the top choice for saree enthusiasts in Mississauga and beyond.

Head to their website, ethniccollection.ca, or visit their store to explore a world of beautiful sarees. Elevate your ethnic wardrobe with Ethnic Collection and experience the timeless elegance of Indian fashion.

[iconadda]

Celebrate holidays with IconAdda’s free assets

BY ICONADDA ,

During the holiday season, festive spirit becomes even more prominent because it is presented in a more flamboyant way. At IconAdda , we understand the potency of pictures to transform your holiday atmosphere. We thus cannot wait to give you complimentary signs, graphics, and stickers ideal for any occasion or occasion.

Why IconAdda?

Your one stop shop for good, customizable images is IconAdda . Be it a festive project or editing social media posts or greeting cards, our collection is rich in accessories that:

FREE TO USE: Feel free to download and use any of our icons, images, and stickers for personal and professional projects.

From Halloween and pumpkins and New Year’s fireworks to Christmas trees and sunflowers, we have designs for all the holidays.

Customizable: Do you need a size or color? You can modify our files to suit your specific needs as they are completely customizable.

What makes our free sticker icons special?

High-quality graphics: Every logo and graphic has been crafted with clarity and appeal in mind.

Versatility: Perfect for websites, email campaigns, social network posts, and even printed material.

Holiday themes: Our designs capture the spirit of each season and deliver your message effectively.

How to get your free stickers and pictures

Using our products is simple:

Visit our website at IconAdda .

Check out our holiday collection.

It’s as simple as click, download and use!

Top picks for the upcoming holiday seasons

We love these freebies: signs and stickers, of course. Don’t pass up on them:

Diwali collection: diyas, crackers, and rangoli paintings

Christmas combo: Santa Claus, reindeers, and Christmas bells

Halloween sets have scaring pumpkins, spiders, and haunted houses.

Party hats, champagne glasses, and fireworks are all part of the New Year’s special.

Share happy souls

Whether you’re a small business owner, blogger, or designer, these free resources can help add even more color and fun this holiday season. IconAdda offers free icons, stickers and graphics to add a creative touch to your celebrations.

Visit IconAdda today to explore our ever-expanding collection. Let’s celebrate with fun and creativity!

[templedekhosblog]

Exploring the Convenience of Online Pujas for Festivals and Special Occasions

In today’s busy world, it's often hard to find time to balance work, family, and spirituality. Celebrating important festivals or marking special events like weddings, housewarmings, and birthdays can sometimes feel overwhelming due to the planning and organizing required. Thanks to online puja services, it’s now easier than ever to participate in sacred rituals and celebrate these significant moments, no matter where you are or how tight your schedule may be.

1. Stress-Free Puja Booking for Festivals

Hindu festivals like Diwali, Navratri, and Ganesh Chaturthi are all about connecting with traditions, but organizing these rituals can be quite time-consuming. Thankfully, online puja booking platforms have simplified this process. With just a few clicks on an online puja website, you can book a puja for your favorite festival, pick a suitable time, and even customize it based on your preferences. You no longer have to worry about sourcing puja materials or finding the right priest—everything is taken care of, allowing you to enjoy the celebrations without stress.

2. Tailored Pujas for Every Special Occasion

Whether you’re celebrating a housewarming, wedding, or birthday, each occasion calls for unique rituals. With online puja services, you can choose the perfect puja to suit your needs. For example, a graha shanti puja for a new home, a Satyanarayan puja for blessings, or a Ganesha puja for prosperity—online platforms allow you to select a puja that aligns with your celebration. This customization helps make your occasion more meaningful and spiritually enriching.

3. Access to Experienced Priests

One of the challenges of organizing a traditional puja is finding an experienced priest who is familiar with the rituals and customs. With online puja services, you don’t have to worry about that. These platforms connect you with qualified priests who can perform rituals accurately and with devotion. Whether it’s a Lakshmi puja for Diwali or a special Ganesha puja for an important family event, you can trust that the puja will be conducted properly, just as it would be in a temple or at home.

4. Join the Ritual Virtually with Live Streaming

One of the most exciting features of online puja booking is the ability to live stream the ceremony. This is particularly helpful for families separated by distance—whether due to work, travel, or other reasons. You can tune in from anywhere in the world and be a part of the ceremony in real time. Watching the ritual unfold live makes it feel as if you’re right there in the midst of it all, allowing you to share in the spiritual experience, even from afar.

5. Affordable and Convenient Puja Services

Traditional pujas often involve costs related to priest fees, transportation, and puja materials. Online puja services offer a more affordable option, as you can choose from various packages that fit within your budget. Whether you want a simple pooja online booking or a more elaborate ritual, online platforms cater to different price ranges, allowing you to enjoy the spiritual benefits of a puja without breaking the bank. Plus, with everything handled online, you save precious time that would otherwise be spent managing the logistics.

6. All-Inclusive Puja Packages for Hassle-Free Celebrations

Many online puja services offer comprehensive packages that cover everything you need for the ceremony. From the priest’s services to the required puja items like flowers, incense, and offerings, these packages provide everything you need for the ritual. Even the prasad (sacred food) is delivered to your doorstep. This eliminates the need to gather items yourself or worry about cleaning up afterward, making the entire process smooth and enjoyable.

7. Eco-Friendly Rituals for a Sustainable Future

As environmental awareness grows, many online puja services have introduced eco-friendly practices, using biodegradable materials and reducing waste. These platforms make it possible to enjoy the traditional rituals while minimizing the impact on the environment. For those who want to keep their celebrations sustainable, booking an online puja is a great option. These services offer an eco-conscious alternative to traditional methods, helping you maintain both spiritual and environmental values.

8. Bringing Traditions to Your Doorstep, No Matter the Distance

For people living abroad or in different cities, staying connected to traditional rituals can be challenging. However, online puja services in India and globally allow you to maintain your spiritual practices, no matter where you live. Whether you’re celebrating Diwali in the US, Ganesh Chaturthi in Europe, or Navratri in Australia, you can book a puja online and ensure that the rituals are performed with devotion and authenticity, even if you’re far from home.

Online puja services have revolutionized the way we celebrate festivals and special occasions. With the convenience of online puja booking, live streaming, and customizable packages, it’s easier than ever to incorporate spirituality into your busy life. These services take care of all the logistics, allowing you to focus on the joy and significance of the ritual, whether you’re celebrating with family or participating from afar. Embrace the convenience of online puja booking services and make your special occasions and festivals more meaningful, hassle-free, and spiritually fulfilling.

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[holidaydes]

Are there honeymoon packages for specific festivals or events in India?

Welcome to The Holiday Destination – Your Gateway to Memorable Journeys

Located in the heart of Madurai, The Holiday Destination is your trusted partner for crafting unforgettable travel experiences. Specializing in personalized itineraries, we offer a wide array of travel packages designed to meet the unique preferences of our clients. One of our standout offerings includes our expertly curated honeymoon packages for specific festivals or events in India, ensuring that newlyweds can celebrate their love amidst the vibrant traditions and festivities that make India so special.

Discover the Charm of Festival-Themed Honeymoons

India is renowned for its rich cultural heritage, and festivals form an integral part of the nation’s identity. At The Holiday Destination, we understand that incorporating these vibrant celebrations into your Honeymoon Tour Packages can make your journey even more special. Whether it’s the romantic glow of Diwali lights, the colorful energy of Holi, or the serene beauty of Pongal celebrations in Tamil Nadu, our honeymoon packages for specific festivals or events in India are crafted to let you soak in the essence of these traditions.

Imagine beginning your married life by experiencing the magic of Pushkar’s Camel Fair, celebrating Durga Puja in Kolkata, or joining the Onam festivities in Kerala. Our packages include carefully selected accommodations, local guides, and exclusive experiences to ensure that you and your partner can immerse yourselves in these cultural treasures while enjoying the intimacy of a honeymoon getaway.

Why Choose The Holiday Destination?

Being based in Madurai, a city rich in tradition and history, we are uniquely positioned to design tours that capture the authentic spirit of India. Our team has a deep understanding of what makes each festival unique and incorporates these elements seamlessly into our Honeymoon Tour Packages for specific festivals or events in India.

For instance:

Traditional Experiences: Participate in pujas, local processions, or folk performances as part of your itinerary.

Romantic Settings: Stay at handpicked boutique hotels or resorts offering festive-themed decor and candlelit dinners.

Local Flavors: Savor regional delicacies specially prepared for the festival season.

We ensure that your honeymoon is not only romantic but also a unique exploration of India’s rich cultural tapestry.

Tailor-Made Packages for Every Couple

Every couple has a different vision for their honeymoon. That’s why we offer customizable packages to suit your needs. Whether you prefer a luxurious experience or a budget-friendly adventure, our Honeymoon Tour Packages for specific festivals or events in India cater to all. We take care of every detail, from transportation and accommodations to special arrangements like private tours or surprise celebrations.

Start Your Journey with Us

At The Holiday Destination, we believe in creating experiences that last a lifetime. A honeymoon is a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and celebrating it amidst the vibrancy of Indian festivals adds a layer of magic that you will cherish forever. Whether you’re looking to explore iconic destinations or hidden gems, our packages ensure a perfect blend of romance, adventure, and culture.

Contact us today to explore our Honeymoon Tour Packages for specific festivals or events in India and let us make your dream honeymoon come true. With The Holiday Destination, your perfect journey starts right here in Madurai.

[unicornfashio]

Embrace Elegance with Stylish Kurta Sets for Every Occasion

When it comes to versatile and stylish attire, kurtas hold a special place in every woman’s wardrobe. Perfectly balancing tradition and modernity, kurta sets have become a go-to choice for women who want to look graceful without compromising on comfort. Whether you're heading to the office, attending a festive gathering, or even planning a casual day out, there’s a kurta set for every occasion. Among the trending options are the office wear kurta set for women, which effortlessly blend professionalism with elegance, and the festive anarkali kurta set, designed to make you shine during celebrations.

The Charm of Office Wear Kurta Sets

Gone are the days when formal office attire meant dull and monotonous outfits. The modern workplace has embraced diversity in fashion, allowing women to explore elegant ethnic wear that’s both functional and stylish. An office wear kurta set for women is a perfect example of this shift. These sets are designed with simplicity in mind, yet they exude a level of sophistication that’s ideal for a professional setting.

Typically made with lightweight fabrics like cotton, linen, or crepe, office kurta sets often feature minimalist prints, pastel shades, and sleek designs that ensure a polished appearance. Pair them with straight-fit trousers or a well-tailored palazzo for an effortlessly chic look. The best part? They’re incredibly comfortable, making them ideal for long working hours while keeping you looking sharp and put-together.

Celebrate Festivities with Anarkali Kurta Sets

On the other end of the spectrum, festivals and special occasions call for something more vibrant and glamorous. This is where the festive anarkali kurta set comes into play. Known for its flared silhouette and intricate detailing, the Anarkali kurta has a timeless charm that never goes out of style.

These sets often feature luxurious fabrics like silk, chiffon, or georgette, adorned with zari work, sequins, and embroidery that add a festive flair. Bright colors such as maroon, emerald green, and royal blue dominate this category, making them ideal for weddings, Diwali parties, or family gatherings. You can pair an Anarkali kurta with a contrasting dupatta and statement jewelry to complete the regal look. Whether you’re hosting or attending a festive event, these kurta sets will make you the center of attention.

Why Kurta Sets Are the Ultimate Wardrobe Essential

What makes kurta sets so appealing is their versatility. They can be dressed up or down, depending on the occasion. A simple office wear kurta set can transition into an evening outfit with just a few accessory swaps, while a festive Anarkali can be toned down for a semi-formal event. Additionally, these sets cater to all body types, offering a flattering fit for every woman.

Another factor contributing to their popularity is the sheer variety available in the market. From casual cotton kurtas to heavily embellished Anarkalis, the options are endless. This ensures that you’ll always find something that suits your taste, mood, and the occasion.

Shop the Best Kurta Sets Online

In today’s digital age, finding the perfect kurta set is easier than ever. With just a few clicks, you can browse through hundreds of designs, compare prices, and have your favorite outfit delivered right to your doorstep. Online platforms offer an extensive range of kurta sets for both office and festive wear, making shopping a hassle-free experience.

In conclusion, whether you’re looking for anoffice wear kurta set for women to elevate your work wardrobe or a festive anarkali kurta set to dazzle at celebrations, there’s no shortage of options to explore. For the latest and most stylish collections, visit unicornfashion.in and redefine elegance with every outfit.

[giftcarnation0]

Unique Return Gift Hampers for Any Celebration

In today's fast-paced world, celebrating special occasions with loved ones has become an essential part of life. Whether it's a birthday, wedding, anniversary, or any other significant event, the joy of sharing these moments with family and friends is priceless. One way to show appreciation for their presence is by giving return gift hampers. These thoughtful tokens of gratitude can leave a lasting impression on your guests, making them feel valued and cherished.

What are Return Gift Hampers?

Return gift hampers are curated collections of gifts given to guests as a token of appreciation for attending an event. These hampers can vary in size, content, and theme, tailored to match the occasion and the preferences of the guests. From gourmet food items and personalized trinkets to luxury skincare products, the options for return gift hampers are endless.

Why Choose Return Gift Hampers?

Return gift hampers are more than just a gesture of gratitude; they reflect the host's thoughtfulness and attention to detail. Unlike single-item gifts, hampers offer a variety of items, making them more exciting and appealing. They can be customized to suit the event's theme, making them a memorable part of the celebration.

Personalization and Customization

One of the most significant advantages of return gift hampers is the ability to personalize them. You can choose items that resonate with your guests, ensuring that each hamper feels unique and special. Adding personalized notes or monogrammed items can further enhance the experience, making the gift more meaningful.

Popular Types of Return Gift Hampers

Depending on the occasion, there are several types of return gift hampers you can consider. Here are some popular options:

1. Birthday Return Gift Hampers

Birthdays are joyous occasions filled with laughter, fun, and memories. A thoughtfully curated birthday return gift hamper can include items like personalized mugs, gourmet chocolates, scented candles, and small games. These hampers can be tailored to suit different age groups, ensuring that everyone leaves with a smile.

2. Wedding Return Gift Hampers

Weddings are grand celebrations that bring together family and friends. To express gratitude to your guests for being part of your special day, wedding return gift hampers are an excellent choice. These hampers can include luxury items like scented candles, gourmet snacks, fine wine, and personalized keepsakes that remind guests of the beautiful event.

3. Corporate Return Gift Hampers

In the corporate world, return gift hampers are often given to clients, employees, or business partners during festive seasons or as a token of appreciation. Corporate hampers can include a mix of office essentials, gourmet treats, personalized stationery, and branded merchandise. These gifts help strengthen business relationships and leave a lasting impression.

4. Festive Return Gift Hampers

Festivals like Diwali, Christmas, and Eid are times of joy and giving. Festive return gift hampers can include traditional sweets, dry fruits, decorative items, and more. These hampers can be themed according to the festival, making them a delightful surprise for your guests.

How to Choose the Perfect Return Gift Hamper

Selecting the perfect return gift hamper requires careful consideration of various factors. Here are some tips to help you make the right choice:

1. Understand Your Audience

The first step in choosing the right return gift hamper is to understand your guests. Consider their preferences, interests, and the occasion's theme. For example, a children's birthday party would require a different type of hamper compared to a corporate event.

2. Set a Budget

Return gift hampers can vary significantly in price, so it's essential to set a budget that aligns with your overall event expenditure. Remember, it's the thought that counts, so even a modest hamper can make a significant impact if curated thoughtfully.

3. Choose a Theme

Having a theme for your return gift hampers can add a fun and cohesive element to your event. Whether it's a color scheme, a holiday theme, or a specific interest (like gourmet food or eco-friendly products), a themed hamper can make your gifts stand out.

4. Quality over Quantity

While it might be tempting to fill a hamper with numerous items, it's essential to prioritize quality over quantity. High-quality, carefully selected items will leave a better impression than a hamper overflowing with miscellaneous goods.

5. Add a Personal Touch

Personalized gifts always leave a lasting impact. Adding custom elements like engraved items, monogrammed towels, or handwritten thank-you notes can make your return gift hampers even more special.

Where to Buy the Best Return Gift Hampers

Finding the perfect return gift hampers can be a daunting task, but fortunately, there are many options available online. Websites like Gift Carnation offer a wide range of return gift hampers that can be customized to suit any occasion. Whether you're looking for birthday hampers, wedding hampers, or corporate gifts, you'll find something that fits your needs and budget.

Conclusion: The Lasting Impact of Return Gift Hampers

Return gift hampers are more than just a token of appreciation; they are a way to show your guests that you value their presence and contribution to your special day. By choosing thoughtful, personalized hampers, you can create lasting memories and ensure that your guests leave with a smile.

If you're planning an event and want to make it truly memorable, consider opting for customized return gift hampers from Gift Carnation. With a wide variety of options to choose from, you're sure to find the perfect gift that will leave a lasting impression.

Call to Action: Explore our collection of unique return gift hampers today and make your event unforgettable. Visit Gift Carnation to browse our selection and customize your hampers to match your event's theme and your guests' preferences.

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Stunning Henna Designs: A Beautiful Tradition with Endless Creativity

Henna designs, also known as Mehndi, have been a symbol of beauty, celebration, and tradition for centuries. Originating from the Indian subcontinent, henna has become a popular form of body art in many cultures around the world. The intricate patterns and designs are not only beautiful but also hold deep cultural and spiritual significance. Whether you are preparing for a wedding, festival, or simply want to add a touch of elegance to your appearance, henna designs offer endless possibilities for creativity and self-expression.

The Art of Henna Design

Henna is a natural dye made from the leaves of the henna plant. Once the leaves are dried and ground into a fine powder, they are mixed with water, essential oils, and sometimes lemon juice to form a paste. This paste is then applied to the skin in intricate patterns using a cone or applicator. As the henna paste dries and stains the skin, it leaves behind a beautiful reddish-brown design that lasts anywhere from a few days to two weeks, depending on the skin type and aftercare.

Popular Henna Design Styles

Traditional Indian Designs: Indian henna designs are known for their detailed, ornate patterns that often cover the hands, arms, and feet. These designs can include floral motifs, paisleys, mandalas, and geometric shapes. They are often used for special occasions such as weddings, where the intricate patterns symbolize joy, prosperity, and good fortune.

Arabic Henna Designs: Arabic henna designs tend to be simpler and bolder, with larger, flowing patterns that feature swirls, curves, and geometric shapes. These designs are perfect for those who want a more modern and minimalist style while still showcasing the elegance of henna.

Moroccan Henna Designs: Known for their unique geometric patterns and sharp lines, Moroccan henna designs often include symbols of protection and good luck, such as the hamsa hand and the eye. These designs are perfect for those seeking a bold and symbolic look.

Contemporary Henna Designs: Modern henna artists often experiment with various styles and incorporate elements like glitter, beads, and even white henna to create contemporary designs. These modern designs can be customized to suit any occasion or personal preference, from simple, minimalist patterns to intricate, detailed artwork.

Henna for Special Occasions

Henna is traditionally used for weddings, festivals, and other celebrations. In many cultures, the bride’s hands and feet are adorned with elaborate henna designs as part of her pre-wedding rituals. Henna is also a key element of festivals like Eid, Diwali, and other cultural events, symbolizing beauty, fertility, and good luck.

Henna designs are a timeless form of art that blends tradition with creativity. Whether you’re preparing for a special event or simply want to enhance your beauty with unique patterns, henna offers an incredible way to express yourself. With its rich cultural significance and beautiful designs, henna is not only a temporary adornment but a celebration of artistry and tradition. Visit a professional henna artist today and discover the perfect design to complement your style and occasion.