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[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.5k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!

a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x

You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.

It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.

Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.

“Hello?”

“Posey, you answered! Hi!”

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.

“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”

Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.

“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”

“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.

“Hey, Mari.”

The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”

“You’re welcome,”  your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.

Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.

“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”

Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.

“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.

“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“

Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”

“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”

You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose. 

“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”

“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.

“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”

“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“

“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears. 

���Thank you, Joel.”

“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”

That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.

After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.  

You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.

You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.

Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.

Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.

This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.

Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.

Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?

He heard it and zoned out immediately.

You? You were moving home?

He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?

The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.

“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”

He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.

Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.

At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.

Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.

You’re coming home.

The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.

It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”

Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”

“Wait, Joel did this?”

“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.

“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.

A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.

A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.

Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.

You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.

Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you. 

But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.

Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.

This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help. 

On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.

As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer. 

“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”

On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.

“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.

“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.

“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.

“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.

“Joel, don’t you dare…”

“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”

“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”

In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.

“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”

All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.

Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.

“May I propose a treaty?”

“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”

He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.

“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”

Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”

You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.

He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”

“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.

Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.

You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.

“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.

You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.

Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”

“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”

Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.

“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”

Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”

You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.

“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”

A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.

“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.

“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard. 

At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.

“Back door? This a new thing now?”

“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”

A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.

“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”

“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”

Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.

“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”

You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.

“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”

You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.

“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.

You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.

“Did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I have full custody of Sarah now.”

He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.

“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.

“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”

He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”

“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”

In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.

Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.

“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”

At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.

“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.

“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”

“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”

“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“

“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.

“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”

“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.

“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”

“God, you’re such an idiot…”

“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”

“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.

“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.

“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”

“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”

A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.

“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“

“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”

As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.

Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.

“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What d’you have in mind?”

“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”

You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.

“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.” 

He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”

“What does that all mean?”

“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face. 

Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.

“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth. 

“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.

“I want to, I really want to.”

His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.

“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”

You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”

His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.

“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”

“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.

“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”

“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.

“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.

With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”

His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.

“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.

“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”

“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.

“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?” 

Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.

“Night, Mari.”

“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”

The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.

“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”

Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”

“HomeGoods.”

“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”

Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.

“Posey, come sit with me!”

With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.

“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.

“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”

You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.

“Never lose your honesty, mija.”

Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.

“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”

“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.

“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.

“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.

Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”

Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”

Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.

When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.

“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”

“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.

“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.

“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”

Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.

If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.

“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”

“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.

“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.

“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.

“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”

Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.

“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.

“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.

“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”

“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.

“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”

“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.

It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.

The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.

“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”

Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.

“You choose for me.”

“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”

“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.

“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.

“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.

“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.

“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”

Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”

“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”

“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”

“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.” 

“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”

Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitren @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost

[blackknight-100]

Thank you so much for writing about Vrishasena and Arjuna. Could you please also write something about them but in an AU where Kunti tells them the truth (before the dyut sabha)? Something fluffy, please!

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for four months. I'm so sorry anon, fluff is really not my thing, but I tried. I hope you like this little thing. Previous angst version is here.

1.

It is a bitter winter morning when Arjuna finds his mother in the royal hall, prepared to sweep his world from under his feet. He huddles together with his brothers, glancing warily as the Kaurava retinue moan and complain among themselves about being summoned. Pitamaha is here as well, as are the King and the Queen, and Uncle Vidura.

“Has something happened?” the later inquires.

“We are awaiting the arrival of Angaraj,” Mother Kunti says, white knuckles wringing at her saree.

Duryodhana perks up like a hunting dog. “Why do you need him?” he demands, possessive as ever.

“I am sure Her Majesty has her reasons,” Uncle Vidura tries, but Duryodhana is on a roll.

“You keep trying to speak to him, cornering him at court and courtyard, trying to turn my friend against me! Why else would the Pandava’s mother be so interested in the man that trounced her sons? I think-”

No one manages to hear his what he thinks, because Kunti interrupts this tirade by screaming, “He is my son!”

 

2.

In hindsight, it is only meet that Karna – who is apparently his brother – gatecrashes the party halfway through Kunti’s sobbing explanation. Arjuna is reasonably sure the man has never given up the chance to barge into situations with the discretion of a charging bull. Perhaps that is why they call him Vrisha.

Much to his chagrin, Karna and his sons are immediately swept up into the Kaurava ranks even as their mother speaks of floating the baby in the river.

Duryodhana speaks right over her, like the churlish prince he is, and asks, “What took you so long?”

“The storms felled quite a few trees.” Arjuna’s newfound brother shrugs and turns to Mother Kunti with a look of abject concern. “Who is this baby in the river? Should we send out search parties? Surely, it is not right to just leave him be.”

Half the gathering stares at him. Uncle Vidura lets out a long-suffering sigh. Pitamaha smacks his forehead into a pillar. All in all, the Kuru family never fails in being predictable.

 

3.

For his own part, Karna takes the news surprisingly well, right up until Pitamaha reveals that he would now be officially part of the family and one of the contenders for the throne. This sparks a terrible debate – for all his meddling in Duryodhana’s plans, the King of Anga appears to have little interest in being king of anyplace else. Brother Yudhisthira, with all his half-divine morality, protests being a part of any contention that involves his older brother as a competitor. Uncle Vidura, who is the Pandavas biggest advocate in the Kuru court, takes this about as well as expected, which is to say: not well at all.

Arjuna has migrated to a corner to escape the shouting, rubbing his forehead to put off an oncoming headache. A figure sidles up to him and offers a small canister.

“This might help, Uncle.”

For a moment Arjuna nearly mistakes him for Karna – which should not be possible, given that his new brother is still yelling about something, and would never call him ‘uncle’ besides – but then he notices the differences. Anga’s Crown Prince is as fair as his father, but his cheeks are still adorably round, and his hair is several shades darker. He is also smiling, which is not a reaction Arjuna has ever garnered from his father, although he has seen Karna laugh often enough in his cousin’s company.

“Vrishasena, is it? Well met. What is this?”

Vrishasena bows. “Yes indeed, uncle. My greetings. This is for your headache.”

Arjuna takes the canister with raised eyebrows. Inside, there is a familiar slimy green paste. “You carry balms around?” he asks, smirking.

Vrishasena shrugs easily. “People are annoying,” he says, then winks cheekily at him and adds, “not you though. You have pretty hair.”

Arjuna’s startled laughter lasts a very long time.

 

+1.

“Father is wonderful,” Vrishasena says, nocking an arrow on his bow, ��but he and mother kind of fought and now he’s upset.”

“I think he is mad at you for taking lessons from me,” Arjuna says, pressing gently down on his shoulders. “Stop being so tense, or you will miss.”

Vrishasena shrugs his shoulders and tosses his head obligingly, then stands much looser. “Nah,” he says, then releases the arrow. It pierces the swaying mango halfway through and carries it into the bushes. “He has stolen Abhimanyu, so he thinks it’s a fair deal. Besides, he likes having brothers.”

Arjuna would like to contest that, but it is true. For all his follies, Karna is astonishingly adept at micromanaging a hundred and five siblings, plus the two extras, without resorting to moralizing or murder. He’s still not ready to give up their reputation as rivals though, so all he says is, “Good shot.”

Vrishasena smirks at him. His nephew has grown quite a few inches in the months they have been away, so they are mostly eye-to-eye now.

“Just good?” Karna’s son definitely has Karna’s cockiness. “Not ‘excellent’ or ‘magnificent’ or ‘sublime’?”

“No,” Arjuna slaps him behind his head, laughing, “you do not need a bigger ego.”

“It’s not that big, uncle,” Vrishasena protests.

Arjuna laughs again. “If you stop pestering me for compliments, I will help you sneak into the kitchen. The cook is making special sweets today.”

Vrishasena pouts, thinking. “I also get to braid your hair.”

Arjuna will never understand the boy’s obsession with his hair, but who is he to deny his nephew anything, especially when he is getting a braid out of it? So, he shrugs and says, “Sure,” and off they go.

[cosmicnovaflare]

So I know how much you love exploring the world through historical fashion, and since the Eastern Commonwealth apparently spans all of Asia, have you dabbled in any of the more uncommon Asian garments for Cinder/Kai? I've been thinking about Cinder wearing a Saree but I'm also curious about Thai, Vietnamese, Burmese, Cambodian etc.

I have so many outfits saved that I’ve never got to (as I regularly fail them in practice). A lot of the time I’ll start out with a specific idea before I fail and revert back to hanfu since I’ve spent the most time practicing that so far. I want to make sure I do it right, so I’d rather wait until it looks correct. My current work for Kai will hopefully be a yellow Manchu (Yeah that was a lie, I failed again in colour and cloth in the middle of writing this.) I think both the E.C and Luna would wear chut thai (with makuṭa headdresses on the moon) and sarees, salwar kameez, dhoti kurtas, and other similar garments. I imagined Kai’s wedding attire in Cress/Winter to be traditional Thai wedding menswear with the “sash” being a sabai? For festivals I’ve always wanted to try drawing them in a white kosobe with a red hakama (there’s probably a single word for this outfit that I do not know) as well as try out something Mongolian, though I have no specific ideas with that, just a lot of options. Heading back south, anything that resembles lavalavas (skirts, wraps, trousers, etc) would probably be very common in the E.C. Sinhs could be common both in the E.C and the moon, maybe having a unique pattern depending on what sector you’re in. Perhaps the common fabrics used in things would change, which would be a way to include Persian silks and other fabrics, meshing traditional material with other cultural clothes (I think this would pair really well with Áo dài.) I can see garments like the deel and nekhii deel still being worn as everyday clothes, especially for warmer climates. Since the E.C seems fairly homogeneous, (maybe due to Asia being hit the hardest by the last world war, repeat imperialism, foreign government control, or assimilation) all these garments could start mixing and matching with each other. Maybe some of these things are global. This is how traditional clothing has merged and become its own thing in the past. I just really like to imagine these things being embraced because we have already experienced clothing bans and forced assimilation so much, and the world in these books has probably experienced more. Even before humans had the FOXP2 mutation that allowed us to understand language, we were making jewellery and art that meant something to us. It seems trivial, but keeping these things alive seems really important in both real life and fiction.

Once again, I am so very sorry if I have referred to things incorrectly. I’ll have some access to research papers that could help in a few weeks, but I am very much not a smart person, but I will still try my best.

[jukti-torko-golpo]

A Moment with the Mothers :

Hiranyavarna

It has always seemed that I am not built for the corporate life. I sit in the office shivering in the cold air conditioned room. The air seems so synthetic. I can see the sky from the large windows, the brilliant clouds painting the sky with so many colours, the birds....I feel trapped. The screen burns my eyes, the fear of failing eats me up. I have dreams to lead a creative life with the love of my life. The corporate life is a stepping stone for that dream life some day. The fear of the dream shattering keeps pulling me down with mind-numbing anxiety. I want to run away...far far away.

I return home, exhausted, after a day in the office. My bag is heavy, hair plastered on my forehead, I feel some deep sadness in my heart, a longing for my freedom. I sit on the bed crying. I know I have privileges but I cannot help feeling how I am feeling.

A soft scent of incense wafts into the room. There is a warm golden glow behind the door. I wipe my tears and open it. I walk into a cozy little hut. I am greeted by a man with a beak-like nose and a familiarity that I cannot explain. It feels like we have been siblings for so long.

'Kire? Etokkhone eli?' (1) He asked me. 'Meye elo naki?' (2) A voice sweeter than honey called out from another room. A woman walked out wiping her hands on the anchol (3) of her saree. A golden glow emanated from her fair skin. She had a heart shaped face radiant like a comforting winter sun. Her lips were the colour of fresh rose petals. She was dressed in a soft pink taant saree with intricate golden borders. Delicate gold jewelleries adorned her body. It seemed as though she was the one for whom solah shringar was made. Her alta stained feet looked like fresh buds of lotus. Her anklets chimed with every steps sending waves of joy each time.

She looked at me and smiled the warmest smile. Her eyes beheld me with the love of a mother who is looking at her child tucked into bed happily and peacefully. 'Hyan re bhaat bere rekhechhi toh...chol...khabi na naki?' (4) She held my hand and led to me to the other room where she had prepared somefood for me. Khichudi and bhaja. It tasted like the first time I had tasted puja bhog. I could not help my tears. I finished every bit of food on that plate. She stood up and walked up to me.

She held me close to her, occasionally wiping my tears. I cried my heart out. She then took me to a bedroom dimly lit only with her glow. 'Ne ghumiye por toh shona meyer moto,' (5) she said smilingly. I laid down and she sat beside me stroking my head. I shift my position to lay my head on her lap. She lets out a loving giggle. There is such a beautiful sense of peace. This is where I belong.

As if hearing my thoughts, she tells me this is where I actually do belong. This is where I can return to anytime. It is not silly to have dreams. It is not silly to be scared of that dream shattering. But we must carry one. She resides in that dream which leads to a happy honest life. Money is not something that should govern life. But it is a blessing from her that lets our spirituality and principles govern our lives efficiently. We often face a bumpy stretch of road. But we must not give up. She is there holding our hands and waiting with food after a tiring time. Vairagya is not everything that fulfills a person. Sometimes the smiling faces of our loved ones are the biggest peace before we attain moksha. In fact it is a stepping stone for the same. We must seek out simple joys and comforts which leaves our hearts feeling warm. Only then can we strive for knowledge and wealth. The perilous road is unavoidable but stopping for a while to look at a pretty wildflower does not deters from our path. In fact it fills us with more motivation and bhakti. Life should be a balance of gyan, samsaar and adhyatma.

I clutch the corner of her anchol tightly. She laughs ever so sweetly and plants a loving kiss on the top of my head. The golden glow fades and I wake up clutching my pillow. My mother is calling me for dinner. My room smells of incense and there is a pink cotton thread on my pillow.

(1) - You came so late? (2) - Is daughter home? (3) - pallu of a saree (4) - I have laid the table for you to eat...won't you eat? (5) - Go to sleep like a good girl. ( Shona literally translates to gold and is a term of endearment )

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Clandestine meetings (part 1)

Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Sherlock x (married) oc!

Summary!

Descriptive writing by me, dialogues by @gregorovitch-adler

The rising sun brought the late 19th century London a serene morning. The dark faded away and London was about to see a rather sunny day which was a rare sight. The jolly city was slowly becoming less quieter. Yet the winter was rather brutal and the chilling air hit every early riser, as a reminder of the severe cold that year's winter guided with it. With all the early risers, there was another who, after his morning walk, was heading towards his friend Mr Sherlock Holmes. Dr Watson walked his way with smoke like vapour coming out of his mouth with everyone he greeted saying, “Good morning”. As for Sherlock Holmes, no one knew what he was doing, he might be at his flat, or perhaps out to find out the missing piece of a puzzle. He was a detective, but for everyone around him, including Dr Watson he was as much of a mystery as the other was to him. However, Dr Watson reached his friend's residence panting after a long morning walk and climbed up the stairs of 221b Baker Street, wasting no time. 

As he entered the apartment, of which the door was already ajar, it baffled Dr Watson to the core. Was it a break in? Or a client early in the morning? With all curiosity he went inside and noticed that Holmes was reclining on his armchair beside the window, smoking a pipe. The room was filled with a slight smoke. He stole a glance at him yet didn't move or say anything.

Shaking his head, Watson closed the door of the flat behind him, walked across the room and stopped close to his companion. 

Holmes pulled out his pipe with his long and thin fingers and seemed to come out of a trance. "Why does everything need to change, Watson? It took me a full week to adjust to the bitter winter. I do not approve of these constant changes." His eyes were fixed on the dimly lit fireplace as he spoke.

"Shall I open the windows, Holmes?" asked Watson, knowing that fresh air might lift Holmes' spirits. 

Holmes said nothing. He sat the way he had been for no one knew how much time. 

Without waiting for an answer, Watson went straight to the window and held it open, sliding the curtains. He turned around and noticed that Holmes' demeanour was becoming decidedly better than before. 

As the sunlight hit the room, Holmes, alongside with the sitting room of 221b Baker Street, rejuvenated. The little dust particles were visible floating in the air through the sunlight like shiny glitter.

“You are the only constant in this changing age, Watson,” said he as he turned a little and looked around the room. 

Watson smiled to himself knowing how much this cold detective appreciated him and walked to the chair across Holmes'. However, before he could sit, there was a knock on the door. Three knocks specifically.

“Three knocks. It is a client,” said Holmes. Yet he didn't get up to open the door. Like he barely did. Watson sighed, he'd always wondered how a person could sit at the same place for hours and still not have the urge to lift himself from there. 

As he went to the door of the flat to answer, it revealed a lady. 

She had a rather unusual appearance for a Londoner. The lady wore something different from the English women. She wore a saree - a traditional Indian attire. 

She stood panting at the doorstep, staring at Watson with her big, dark eyes. Her dark hair hung so low behind her, it almost touched her hips. Her height was assumed to be a little more than five feet. 

She looked breathless, presumably she came to them running, yet her exhaustion couldn't hide how beautiful she was. Watson also noticed a streak of vermilion in her mid-parted hair.

“Let me in. Oh, good sir, please. I need to speak to Mr Sherlock Holmes,” said she in her broken English which had no British touch to it. Her accent told that she was still learning, and that she was an Indian.

Watson knitted his brows and gave her a nod as he stepped aside to let her in. Her appearance seemed intriguing to Holmes. He got up to draw a chair for the lady - one that he and Watson had reserved for the clients.

The lady sat down and stared at the apartment floor in horror for a few seconds, trying to calm herself a bit.

“I suggest you start talking immediately. We do not have all day.” Holmes stated a bit of annoyance evident in his voice. Watson looked at Holmes pointedly at his rudeness to the lady as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for her. 

He got back, handed the glass to the woman, she thanked him silently and began to drink. She stared at Holmes without blinking, her big, dark brown eyes with kohl around them, inspecting the detective from head to toe. Perhaps she was new to the country, so she seemed to be in awe of the locals.

“What's your name, Ms?” Watson asked politely. 

Drinking the whole glass of water in a few seconds, the lady set it down on her lap. “Mrs Devi Dey,” she answered, looking at the two men.

“And what brings you here?” asked Holmes. He finally clasped his hands together, letting the fingertips touch each other. 

Watson looked around himself and spotted a few newspapers thrown on the ground. He picked up one of them and gave it to Mrs Dey. She began to fan herself after glancing at Watson with gratitude. She cooled down a bit and finally started to speak about her issue. “My husband and I moved to London last year after his job promotion. He works at The Daily Telegraph. He comes home at seven in the evening daily when I make dinner for us. 

“Last night, not only was he two hours late, but he also kept staring at the wall opposite to him in the sitting room blankly. I kept calling him for half an hour or so after I was done making dinner, but he wouldn't listen! I seldom have dinner alone, but last night I did. After dinner, I went to the sitting room to check on him once again. He was staring at the floor then, lost in his thoughts. Thinking he would join me later, I went to bed. 

“But he never came to the bedchamber. He was already leaving for work when I got up - three hours before his usual time. I couldn't let him go today. I had to draw words out of his mouth, sir!”

“What happened to him?” asked Watson and furrowed his brow, growing almost as impatient as Holmes, but trying his best to keep it to himself. Whereas Holmes was sitting with his fingertips joint together and touching his chin with his eyes closed. 

“His senior officer has accused him of corruption. That wretched fellow! He did this in front of the entire office, and now nobody in the company is assigning any tasks to my husband. He says he might either be arrested or fired from his job. What shall I do? Where should we go after this? 

“I know my husband is innocent, Mr Holmes. I just know it. However, I do not know what to do.”

“For now, you can go back home,” said Holmes as he sat back in his chair with his eyes closed.

Mrs Dey looked at Holmes as if she had just been slapped. Her expression told how offended she'd been. She came to Sherlock Holmes’ place for refuge but all she got from him was his rudeness. She turned to look at Watson with pleading eyes. 

Watson did not know why Holmes suddenly withdrew from the problem either. He looked at Holmes in confusion for a split second, but then he decided to put up an act. 

“Mrs Dey, My friend Holmes needs to think about this whole problem in detail. He will take the case, I can assure that,” said Watson, Holmes flung his eyes open and stared with utter disbelief. He ignored Holmes’ pointed glare at him, “but till then, it would be best if you leave him alone.”

Mrs Dey's delicate features relaxed a little, as she got up from her chair, Yet she was rather unhappy with the detective. She'd heard he was the best one in the city, in the whole country. However, it seemed to her that he needed his attitude to be fixed somehow. Turning around, and walking out of 221 B, Baker Street, she could only think of her dilemma. 

Gazing at the staircase leading outside the apartment building, Watson contemplated seeing her out, but as he made his way to the door of their residence, Holmes got hold of his wrist, making Watson stop in his tracks. 

“Stay right where you are, Watson. We need to talk.”

[studentbyday]

src: study with me by SARE

D-47 DAYS TO FREEDOM

sigh. towards the end of the height of autumn, i start craving for winter bc that means the sooner i am to no-school days but then winter comes and then i'm like WHERE DID THE TIME GO. i am not looking forward to that feeling.

learning:

review lipoproteins ✅

finish biochem module review activities ✅

finish biochem hw ✅ (still gotta chk + send)

finish section 1/2 of mol bio ✅ (i have 4 slides left)

work on biochem term paper (ngh so hard not to procrastinate on this one...but i gotta get the first draft in by early next week so i gotta start nowww 😣😣) ✅ (rewrote the introduction bc apparently intros for papers need a looooot of detail)

finished 1/3 psyc ch from last week ✅

self-care:

physio exercises ✅

🎶 white christmas - bing crosby

[masked-alien-lesbian]

KTAW Day #1: Culture

Holi: Festival of Colors, Love and Spring

"How do we wake her up?" Kiara faintly hears Raelyn muttering.

"Just gently nudge her arm, but hurry my love, this breakfast tray is quite heavy." Hana's voice sounds somewhere in the cloud of light sleep Kiara was drifting in. Then suddenly Kiara was being wildly shaken.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey...well not really, but malpuas didn't rhyme so..." Raelyn-

"Gently, Rae, gently!" Hana admonishes Raelyn and then looks at Kiara who is sitting up disheveled and disoriented.

"Sorry Kiara, I think they're excited for our first color festival." Hana says apologetically.

"We brought you breakfast!" Raelyn sings as Hana sits the tray in Kiara's lap.

"Oh my...this is so sweet!" Kiara says touched by her best friends surprising her with breakfast in bed.

"Literally so sweet, I've had a stack of rainbow waffles and I'm about to bounce off the walls." Kiara laughs at Raelyn before beginning to nibble on her sweet breakfast.

"We'll let you eat in peace, Kiara, meet us downstairs when you're ready?" Hana says while swatting at Raelyn's hand who was trying to steal an idli (a savory rice cake) from Kiara's plate.

"I will." Kiara says smiling at the couple's antics and admiring the view outside of her window as they shut the door behind them.

An hour later, Kiara came down into the main living room at the small villa in Mathura, the Valtoria duchesses had rented for the weekend. The rest of the friend group had prior obligations and weren't able to attend but miraculously, Kiara was in-between social events and with a little pleading from Hana, Kiara joined the couple for their first Holi festival.

Kiara knew about Holi and what it stood for. A celebration of the end of winter and the beginning of spring, a celebration of love, and an occasion to reset and renew ruptured relationships and end conflicts. But knowing the indept cultural and historical aspects of the Hindu traditions, didn't mean Kiara had ever participated and looking at the couple in matching white and pink flower saree and kurta, Kiara felt awkward and out of place in her black dress.

Hana's saree and Raelyn's white kurta and trousers with pink rose jacket.

The couple turns at Kiara's arrival.

"I knew she'd be wearing something black!" Raelyn exclaims.

"Oh, je suis dèsolè, is this dress not appropriate?" Kiara asks looking down at her dress unsure.

"You rock black like a queen, Kiara, but you gotta wear light colors so the colors of the powders show up." Raelyn says.

"Don't worry, we got a gift for you." Hana says before opening a conveniently nearby closet and pulling out a dress in a garment bag.

Trying the beautiful silk ruffle saree on in the bathroom, she marvels at the colors before coming out to show it off.

Kiara's saree

"Whoa!" Raelyn-

"Ahh! I got the size right!" Hana claps.

"Hana...Raelyn...merci beaucoup...this is so beautiful, it's almost a shame that we're about to ruin it." Kiara says hugging Hana.

"Speaking of..." Raelyn says grinning mischievously at Kiara before gently dabbing bright green powder on her nose. The two stand staring at each other in a show down.

"Oh, this is war." Kiara says quietly, slowly smirking. The grin on Raelyn's face slips off when Hana hands Kiara a heaping bag of pink powder.

"Now, now hold on a minute!" They say backing out of the patio doors at the two grinning ladies that were both holding bags of powder, advancing on Raelyn.

"Rae darling? You really should be running." Hana says causing Raelyn to squeal and run. Hana and Kiara laugh as they chase their quarry.

@kiaratheronappreciationweek

@sazanes

@lizzybeth1986

[shivaniboutique]

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[meeradesai11]

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Welcome to Fab Couture, your premier destination for exquisite fabrics online. Today, we delve into the timeless allure of Chikan fabric, a classic textile that embodies elegance and tradition.

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[woolenart]

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[embersariya]

You are so serene kaalboishaki. After seeing your recent green saree wala pic I don't knows why "kaise aab kahein" song started to play on mg mind and I even started humming the song.

Maine jana mujhme tu hai.

Dil hai nadan kaise ab kahe.

You are really beautiful. Really. I am losing words to describe how pretty you looked in that picture. The way you looked, the way your benuni layed on your shoulders as if it was sleeping peacefully.

You are really beautiful. Just like the coldness of winter and paata jhora bristi..

ro rahi hoon hiya i love you so much buke aye please

[aizah1234567]

Unveiling the Best Bridal and Winter Wear Collection at Najo Bazaar

When it comes to preparing for the big day or embracing the chill of winter in style, your wardrobe deserves the finest. At Najo Bazaar, we pride ourselves on offering an exquisite range of men's bridal wear, stunning bridal lehengas for weddings, elegant women's bridal dresses, and cozy yet chic winter wear for women. Whether you’re the bride, the groom, or a guest, Najo Bazaar has everything you need to make a statement.

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Styling Tips for Bridal and Winter Wear

To help you make the most of your outfits, here are some styling tips:

Mix and Match: Pair traditional attire with modern accessories for a unique look.

Layer Smartly: Add shawls, jackets, or capes to winter bridal outfits for warmth and style.

Accessorize Wisely: Choose statement jewelry that complements your outfit without overpowering it.

Comfort Matters: Ensure your bridal and winter outfits allow you to move and enjoy freely.

Whether you’re preparing for a wedding or updating your winter wardrobe, Najo Bazaar offers an unmatched selection of men’s bridal wear, bridal lehengas for weddings, women’s bridal dresses, and winter wear for women. With a perfect blend of tradition, elegance, and modernity, we ensure that you look and feel your best for every occasion.

Explore our collection today and let Najo Bazaar be a part of your special moments. Your style journey begins here!

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Elevate Your Style with Exquisite Ethnic Wear

When it comes to ethnic fashion, the right choice of fabrics and designs can make all the difference. Whether you’re looking for a sophisticated saree or a glamorous suit for a special occasion, our collection promises to cater to all your style needs. Here’s a closer look at how you can incorporate our featured pieces into your wardrobe:

Pure Organza Sarees: Sheer Elegance for Every Occasion

Pure organza sarees are the epitome of grace and sophistication. Their lightweight and glossy texture make them ideal for both daytime and evening events. The delicate fabric drapes beautifully, adding a touch of regal charm to your look. Whether paired with minimal jewelry for a classic appearance or accessorized boldly for a modern twist, a pure organza saree is a timeless addition to your collection.

Pure Chiffon Sarees: Effortless Grace

For those who value comfort and style, pure chiffon sarees are a must-have. Known for their airy feel and soft texture, these sarees are perfect for layering during winter or wearing solo during breezy summer evenings. Available in a variety of colors and patterns, a pure chiffon saree is a versatile choice for any wardrobe.

Party Wear Suits: Glamour Redefined

Make a statement at any event with our stunning range of party wear suits for women. Designed to exude elegance and sophistication, these suits feature intricate embroidery, rich fabrics, and modern cuts. Perfect for weddings, festivals, and cocktail parties, our collection ensures you’ll be the center of attention wherever you go.

Party Wear Suits for Women: Versatile and Chic

Party wear suits for women offer a perfect blend of traditional charm and contemporary style. Whether it’s a heavily embellished suit for a grand celebration or a subtle design for a formal dinner, there’s something for every occasion. Crafted with attention to detail, these suits bring out the best in every wearer.

Why Choose Us?

At The Weavershop, we pride ourselves on offering handcrafted ethnic wear that blends traditional techniques with modern aesthetics. Each piece in our collection, from pure organza sarees to party wear suits for women, is designed to make you feel confident and elegant. Our commitment to quality ensures that every outfit is a masterpiece.

Styling Tips:

Pair a pure organza saree with statement earrings and a sleek bun for an effortlessly chic look.

Style a pure chiffon saree with a contrasting blouse to add a pop of color.

Accessorize party wear suits with embellished clutch bags and high heels for a glamorous touch.

Experiment with layered necklaces and bold makeup to elevate your festive look.

Discover the perfect outfit for your next occasion with our exclusive collection. Shop now and redefine your ethnic wardrobe with The Weavershop’s handcrafted elegance!

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Stay Stylish with the Best Stoles and Scarves For Winter

Winter is the perfect time to showcase your collection of cozy and stylish accessories. Stoles and scarves are not only practical but also add an elegant touch to your outfits. Here’s a guide to the best stoles and scarves for winter.

Woolen Stoles Nothing beats the warmth of a woolen stole during freezing temperatures. These stoles come in classic patterns like checks and stripes, which can complement casual or formal outfits.

Pashmina Scarves Lightweight yet warm, Pashmina scarves are known for their softness and luxurious appeal. They’re perfect for layering over sweaters or even sarees for an ethnic look.

Chunky Knit Scarves If you’re a fan of trendy styles, chunky knit scarves are for you. These oversized scarves are ideal for layering over long coats or jackets, adding both comfort and style.

Tips for Styling Stoles and Scarves

Opt for neutral tones like beige, grey, or black for maximum versatility.

Experiment with different ways to tie your scarf, such as a loose loop or a knotted style, to elevate your look.

Conclusion The best stoles and scarves for winter not only keep you warm but also ensure you look chic all season long. Whether you prefer the elegance of Pashmina or the coziness of chunky knit scarves, there’s something for everyone.

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Top Printed Sarees Manufacturer and Supplier in Surat Selling Printed Sarees in Various Fabrics

Surat, the vibrant city of Gujarat and the textile hub of India is popular for its unlimited production of sarees and many more textile products among them printed sarees are one such mesmerizing option. Because of the ongoing extreme demand for these evergreen sarees, every printed sarees manufacturer and supplier in Surat is continuously launching more innovative and stylish options for ladies. Organza Mall is the most famous name among all of the name, engaged in selling printed sarees not only in different colors and prints but in different fabric types also so that ladies can get suitable options for each season. Let’s now explore various types of mesmerizing printed sarees in different fabric types. 

Shop for Latest Mesmerizing Printed Sarees in Different Fabrics for All Seasons from Organza Mall

Printed sarees are the best fashion option for a dull summer day as they transform the dull look into the most graceful style in seconds. They unfold a symphony of colors, prints and patterns that made them famous worldwide. However, while prints are the major element in a printed saree and there can be unlimited options of prints, fabrics are also an important part of this saree. Thus, ladies should have printed sarees in various fabric types as per season so that they can stay comfortable in every season wearing a printed saree. Check below what types of options you can get in the saree fabrics of printed sarees from Organza Mall, the well-known printed sarees manufacturer and supplier in Surat.

1. Printed Organza, Magic of Sheerness and Flowiness

The name Organza Mall already suggests that we are mostly engaged in selling printed organza sarees. For party purpose, you can find fashionable sheer organza printed sarees at best price. And for wedding ceremonies, you can buy glamorous and a little traditional organza silk sarees. For selling superior quality and highly durable as well as comoftrbale organza printed sarees, we are considered as the most reliable printed sarees manufacturer in Surat. These printed sarees are suitable for summer days.

2. Printed Silk Saree, the Royal Affair

Can’t imagine that it’s possible that a silk saree is available in innovative prints? Visit Organza Mall, and you can find some top-class quality printed silk sarees in the latest designs and prints. Ladies who are bored of the typical desi silk saree look and want to add a modern twist to their traditional appearance can go for our fashionable printed silk sarees. Since silk is a little heavy fabric, printed silk sarees are good for winter.

3. Printed Cotton Saree, Fantastic Combination of Elegance and Comfort

Why wear plain cotton sarees in summer and sacrifice your style while you can stay stylish and comfortable too at the same time in a printed cotton saree? Collect the most comfortable and summer’s best partner 100% pure printed cotton sarees from leading printed sarees manufacturer and supplier in Surat.

4. Printed Chiffon Saree, the Latest Bollywood Trend

From Alia Bhatt to Deepika Padukone and more, printed chiffon sarees are the new wardrobe essential of most Bollywood stars. What if you can recreate their fabulous look this time for a party event? A printed chiffon saree can help you to do so. This is another summer special saree that can make you look sensual with transparent texture while make you feel so breezy.

5. Printed Satin Saree, the Glamour Queen

Win the fashion game and get into the spotlight on a special occasion with the printed satin saree. The fantastic blend of the unmatched glow and super bright prints creates such a breathtaking look and anyone can hardly take eyes off from you. This is one of the best winter saree options one can ever find.

6. Printed Organza Silk Saree, Mixture of Sheerness and Royalty

If you want the glow of silk sarees for a summer wedding or party but are afraid of the struggle of carrying a heavy silk saree with much discomfort, go for a printed organza silk saree. Organza Mall, the reliable printed sarees supplier in Surat has the best ever collection of lightweight and gorgeous organza silk sarees at low price. Because of the blend of organza and silk, these sarees have both the sheer and breathable nature of organza and the silky touch and glowy look of silk, making it a perfect summer wedding saree option.

7. Printed Georgette Saree, the Twisted Weave

8. Printed Crepe Saree

9. Printed Polyester Saree, The Saviour for Monsoon

10. Printed Jimmy Choo Saree, A New Hit in the Market

Conclusion

If you are interested in affordable but best-quality printed sarees shopping and looking for a trustworthy printed sarees manufacturer in Surat, India, start shopping from Organza Mall today. We are also a leading printed sarees exporter in Surat and ready to export sarees all over India. You can also order printed sarees in bulk and get them at wholesale rates from this top printed sarees wholesaler in Surat.