#buy gold plated wall clocks

[divinespiritualgifts]

What Are The Perks Of Gold Plated Items As A Gift?

The world has realized the value of gold as a noble metal. As a result, there are various benefits of investing in gold plated corporate gifts. Let’s know more.

It is beyond doubt that a gold plated photo adds class and elegance to your rooms. However, we might sometimes find gold products a lot more expensive than others. In order to overcome this problem, many manufacturers have started to prepare gold-plated products. It means that your products will have plating of gold on them which exactly looks like pure 100% gold. 

Perks Of Gold Plated Products 

They are affordable

In comparison to any other opulent gifting products, gold-plated products are the most inexpensive ones. When a solid gold gift item can burn your pocket, a subtle gold-plated gift item will save you some serious money. People have begun purchasing them owing to their affordability. 

Appears exactly like gold

We cannot mention the benefits of gold-plated products without mentioning this point. One opts for a gold-plated product only because it bears resemblance to an ordinary gold gift item. An untrained eye will never be able to tell the difference. 

Are great pieces of decoration

Whether you are buying a new house or redecorating your existing one, nothing looks more splendid than these products. The plating process lets the item have a solid gold luster, along with being so affordable. Hence, you know you have the right touch of brilliance when you buy gold plated gifts. 

They are easy to prepare

Another benefits of the almost gold-like products are they are very easy to make. By owning a gold-plated present of a particular style, you can easily be a part of the trend. Also, you do not have to stress about the huge investment that you have to do. 

Possibilities of a plethora of designs

Another major benefit is that you get to choose from a wide range of designs. Yes, you heard that right. When you opt for a gold-plating gift item, you are getting a lot of options. Choose anyone of them which you find beautiful. Also, you can present them to the people you love. 

Wrapping It Up

After knowing these benefits, do you want to buy gold plated wall clocks? Then, you should definitely get in touch with Diviniti. They sell the most exquisite range of gold plated god photo frames at very nominal prices. Visit their website today and explore a wide range of classic and opulent 24-carat gold gift items.

[givemea-dam-break]

Hmm ok.. To the “married but don’t know how”, I saw a fic where these two characters got drunk and got someone to officially make them married and they didn’t find out till they woke up the next day so I was thinking of that.

If it makes sense because I’m shit at explaining. But you could have Lockwood reveal to the reader instead.

a/n: i’ve had to age the characters up for this one (in the uk, you have to be 18 to legally marry now lol) but hopefully this is still alright! i'm so so sorry you've had to wait so long for this haha i had no idea how to go about this for ages. there are no 18+ themes in this, the characters have just been aged up for it to make sense.

warnings: mentions of drinking, language gn reader

How Could I Refuse? - Anthony Lockwood

This is perhaps the worst headache you've had in a while.

As soon as you open your eyes, you have to shut them again to save yourself from being blinded by the bright sunlight streaming through the gap in your curtains. It feels as if there is a little person in your head, knocking against your skull with the strongest hammer they could find. Groaning, you roll over in your bed, shoving your face into your pillow.

There's a cold feeling on one of your fingers, but you chalk it down to it going numb from how you're lying, so you only move it.

And get a glimpse of gold.

Frowning, you lift your head up just enough to look at your hand - your left one, at that - and blink once, twice, three times to make sure you're actually awake.

Whose ring is that on your finger?

It's one you've never seen before, a simple band of gold with a glittering sapphire inlaid in the centre. Truthfully, it's gorgeous, but you can't help but feel guilty. Whose ring did you nick, and why?

And what on God's green earth did you drink last night?

You remember going out with your friends - Lockwood, Lucy, and George - last night to celebrate Lucy's eighteenth, and you remember the bar Lockwood had dragged you all to after the meal you'd all shared. George had left early. He wasn't interested in drinking, and although you all felt bad, he didn't seem to mind too much and went home. After a while... well, that's where your memory goes blank.

A good cup of tea. That's all you need.

So, with dragging, heavy limbs, you roll out of bed and make the oh-so-long and arduous trek down to the kitchen.

Only Lucy is there, and she looks about as good as you feel. Her hair is still messy from getting up not long ago, and her head is resting on the table beside a half-empty glass of water, an open packet of painkillers, and a steaming mug of tea.

"Morning, Luce," you mumble, reaching into the cupboard for your mug.

"It's two in the afternoon," she grumbles. "I think. Maybe."

You squint at the clock on the wall. "No, you're right. God, what did we do last night? We couldn't have drank that much?"

"If this is what eighteen entails, I don't want it."

Patting her shoulder as you pass to reach into the fridge, you say, "It's not all bad. You can buy scissors now. Want a piece of cake? There's still some left in the fridge."

"Can't have cake for breakfast."

"Not breakfast. It's after lunch now."

With that, she looks up and grins, accepting the plate you've already gotten prepared for her. She gratefully takes it but pauses.

"Where'd you get that ring? Never seen it before."

"No clue." You lean back against the kitchen counter, sipping your tea and burning your tongue in the process. "Ow! Ugh - No, I don't know. Woke up with it on. I think I nicked it from someone."

While taking a bite of her birthday cake, she gestures for you to give her your hand. You comply, and she stares down at the band and its glittering stone with a frown. She opens her mouth to say something, but hiccups instead, which sends you both into a delirious fit of laughter. Honestly, what did you drink?

"I've no clue whose ring this is," she says, twisting it on your finger a little. "Looks old. Expensive. I suppose drunk you wanted to go for a vintage look."

"But, why's it on this finger?" You waggle your ring finger at her. "I'm not married."

"Maybe Lockwood will know? Out of all of us, he probably knows the most about vintage shit. Look at the sofa covers in the living room, for god's sake!"

"Lockwood will know what?"

Lucy turns and smiles. "Perfect! Just in time. We need your help."

Lockwood stands in the kitchen doorway, rubbing at his eyes yet still managing to look like his usual chipper self. Unlike you and Lucy, his hair isn't messy, nor does he look like he's been dragged to the deepest pits of hell and back. He's even wearing fresh clothes! You glance down at the tatty pyjamas you never bothered to change out of and flush.

"Help for what? Oh, (name), is the kettle still hot? Mind making me a brew, please?"

You slip your hand from Lucy's and make him a cup of tea and she explains the predicament, suddenly very animated compared to how she was five minutes ago.

"(name) nicked someone's ring while we were out last night," she says, and her voice holds a tone of scandal that makes you feel embarrassed. "We've no idea who it could belong to, or why they took it. But, get this, it's on their ring finger!"

Lockwood frowns, looking at your hand as you pass him his mug. For a moment, that's all he does - frown - but a second passes and suddenly he looks as if he's been told the juiciest gossip one could ever know. It's a look you've seen a lot, seeing as the only thing he reads are the gossip rags that show the latest news on Penelope Fittes, or a scandal between two millionaires that have nothing better to do with their life.

"Let me see that," he says.

You share a look with Lucy, but let him look nonetheless. If you weren't red already, the second his hand takes yours definitely makes your face heat up and turn pink. He's gentle as he takes it, turning your hand this way and that so he can get a good look at it. Then he pales.

"That's my mother's wedding ring."

He may as well have told you that you're a grave robber. The guilt that seeps into your skin is overwhelming, and you immediately tear the ring off, placing it on the thinking cloth just in front of him.

"I am so sorry. Fuck. I wasn't wearing that when we left, was I, Luce? Shit, I'm so, so sorry Lockwood. I don't even know how I ended up with it."

"I do," he murmurs. He won't look at you for a moment, his eyebrows creased with confusion. "I always keep it on me. It's like a good luck charm, I suppose."

You look back at Lucy. Something is dawning on her, and she's looking at you wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Shit, guys."

"What do you mean, Shit, guys?" You glance between them. "What's going on?"

Lucy makes a face, sipping her tea. "You telling her, Lockwood, or am I?"

Lockwood is still staring at the ring, and it's making you nervous. "Lockwood?"

"Lucy?" he says.

"Lockwood," she replies.

"I..." He runs a hand over his face, picking up the ring and twirling it in his fingers. "(name), don't kill me."

"Why would I kill you? Lockwood, you're freaking me out."

"Believe it or not, I think we got married."

The laugh that leaves your mouth then is accidental, and you cover your mouth quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to - What?"

You're not sure if the pounding sound you can hear is your heartbeat or George performing some kind of Zumba routine up in his room. When did you place your mug down, or did Lockwood take it from your hands?

"Like - like how people get married in Vegas? What is it, eloping, or something? You're pulling my leg right now. Lucy, he's not making sense, is he?"

Lucy only stands, hiding a smile, and says, "I think I hear George shouting for me. I better go."

"Luce -"

But she's gone, taking her tea and her grin away with her. Leaving you with Lockwood, who can't seem to decide whether he should look at you or the ring.

"You don't know that we got married," you insist. "We were both drunk, and you could've just given me the ring for good luck. Right?"

"I don't think -" He pauses, and the silence is painful. You have to sit down and down two painkillers. "I wouldn't just give anyone this ring. Like I said, it was my mum's."

"But we're not married, right? There would have to be, like, legal certification for that."

He smiles ruefully. "Wouldn't be that terrible being married to me, would it?"

"Oh, no! No, no, it wouldn't. I mean, well, you know -"

"I've liked you for a while."

The words cut your ramble short, and you can only stare at him in shock. He's finally looking at you now, but there's something in his eyes that makes you feel inherently guilty for reacting the way you did.

It's not that it would be a bad thing in all reality. Hell, you'd love the possibility of being in a relationship with Lockwood after years of pining after him, but you can't remember any of last night after a few drinks at the bar. It's something you'd liked to have remembered, especially now with what he's admitted.

"Well, I'm not sure liked is the right word. Loved, more like."

It's a little hard to breathe. "Are you sure you're sober?"

"Pretty sure I am. What's that thing that some people say? Drunk words are sober thoughts? Whatever. But I do mean it, (name). I've loved you since the moment you tried to stab me on one of your first cases here."

"I thought you were a ghost," you say quietly.

He laughs softly. "Yes, I know. I'm just trying to say that this wasn't out of the blue. I'd been hoping to ask you out sometime soon, but it seems that I skipped a few bases. Hey, at least you didn't reject me."

And the way he looks at you then, so imploringly, you know he's practically begging you not to now.

Sheepishly, you say, "I wouldn't reject you. Well, not unless you made one of those grand public gestures you see in the movies. Those make me feel queasy."

The grin he dons at that moment is dazzling, and it takes you off guard for a second. He runs a hand through his neatly brushed hair, breathing a sigh of relief that makes you smile a little.

"You can keep the ring if you want," he says. Already, that infamous charm of his has returned. "Seeing as I apparently proposed and married you with it last night."

"How could I refuse?" you ask with a laugh.

Gently, he takes your hand in his once more, slipping the ring back onto the finger you found it on not even twenty minutes ago. His grin brightens at the sight, and he holds your hand for a few minutes longer, entwining your fingers with his.

"So, I guess we're together, now?"

He laughs. "I guess we are.

You squeeze his hand softly, eyes fixed on the glittering band on your finger, and say, "I love you, too, for what it's worth."

[siphersaysstuff]

BIY Lego Town Hall, in progress

So the Lego "modular" city blocks are a fave theme of mine, and I was looking at the prices for the Town Hall from 2012, and NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. Starting at $500 incomplete and only going up from there, never mind shipping.

I got a lot of spare bits, I'll build my own, thanks. Even if I have to do some Bricklink buys (and I DO and have one already on its way), it'll be way cheaper and more fun since I can do a lot of altering on the way.

The first floor is nearly done. I still need a lot of 1x8 rail-plates to complete the columns and slanted roof parts. A couple key pieces to finish the double-doors, and I'm debating my planter options. The light-gray 1x3 arches are gonna get replaced with dark-gray. Instead of flat gray walls up front, used masonry-bricks, I think they add a bit o' dignity.

Working on the interior. Using micro-builds from other sets, particularly The Office, to make it nicer inside than the rather plain original. Miiiiiiiiiight pull apart the back wall and go all light-gray masonry-brick like with the front. Which I don't have enough of, at least not 1x4 ones. Nothing but 1x2s would be a structural nightmare. Maybe some art on the left wall.

Second floor is less done. I've run out of not-small nougat-colored bricks; the original set uses a dark orange, and I like the more subtle lighter look of the nougat. Also I had (had) a shitload of 1x4 and 1x2 masonry-bricks in that color, which are fine for the front and back walls. The side-walls can be plain cuz they're gonna get mooshed up against some other buildings.

Not got much furniture in there yet, but soon.

Also working on a more elaborate elevator car. The original was basically just a floor, which felt... bad. Gave this one walls and buttons, and an escape hatch. Lacking the Technic piece for the locking mechanism on the back-left corner; once I get that (in the mail now), the design might change depending on how exactly the car sits height-wise at each floor.

The third floor is... whoof. I need a lot of 1x2x2 white windows (in the order), and I have very few nougat bricks in either form left outside of a lot of 1x2s and 1x3s, which is not ideal for big stretches of wall.

The nougat bricks might have to get bulk-ordered. They're surprisingly pricy.

Made some decent progress on the roof and clock tower. Most of it is done and the parts to complete the gray front and skylights are on order, as is the huge clock face dish.

Clock tower interior. Was debating putting a bunch of the random Technic gears I have back there, but had no good idea for how to properly attach them to the wall without them sticking WAY out, so ppppffft. One giant Mario gear.

The original bell tower design was shorter (only two 1x1 cylinders used) plus the bell was affixed to the floor. No thanks. Now the bell hangs, and even better, thanks to the 1x1 round plate/bar, it can even swing from side to side a bit!

I wanted to make a gold bell, but sadly they don't do the 3x3 dish in pearl-gold. Ah well.

So, all told, getting there. I'm sure I'll tweak it more on the way, there's been tons of light alterations I've made all over the place already.

Also, any excuse to sift through the bulk bit bins at a Bricks & Minifigs. Mmmm.

[craftsowls]

Best tips to choose the perfect wall decoration

The walls of your home are one of the most underrated interior designing elements. Though interior designers know how crucial perfect wall decoration is, we fail to understand its importance. Designing the walls of your home with splashes of creativity seems to be the most intriguing part of home decoration. You have several elements, sizes, colours and designs to choose from, giving wings to the inner designing enthusiast. But before you choose what to buy and how to decorate your room, you must have a fair idea of what counts as the perfect wall decoration.  Know how to do it? Well, below we have a list of wall decoration items that you can buy. There are some tips you must keep in mind while shopping. Do not wait, scroll ahead!Hand Wall Painting: Every painting narrates a story of its own. We recommend you to go for hand wall paintings. Artists pour their hearts out with paints and imagination for hand wall paintings. The vibrant splashes of colour add life to the boring walls of any room in your house. Some tips that you must consider before buying a hand wall painting online are: 

Do not be scared to experiment with designs and colours. Colour popping is the best. In a room full of neutrals, a unique and bold coloured hand wall painting would look great. 

Look for the right frame. Some do not blend well with frames. Go for unframed hand wall paintings for such pieces. 

The hand wall painting must hang at eye level.

Support your favourite artist. Select a hand wall painting of your favourite artist and make their painting your own.

Canvas Art: Looking for canvas art to revamp your home decor? Visit our website to buy canvas art online. If you wish to buy canvas art online, you must remember a few points.

Firstly, decide the vibe of your room and then select the canvas art you want to buy. 

Secondly, choose a piece that blends well with the existing scheme, for example: buy a minimalistic canvas for an already busy room or buy a striking pop art canvas for a room with neutrals or plain.

Thirdly, know that the thickness of the canvas art matters. If your artistic masterpiece is too protruding, it will be an obstruction to your room decor. 

Wall Plates Decor: Beautify your walls with intricate detailing, popping colours and astounding wall plates decor. Wall plates decor is one of the wall decorations items that make any boring wall very quirky. To buy wall plates decor online

First, select the wall where you wish to place it. We advise you to choose a monochrome wall that would make the design on the wall plate stand out. 

Decide what message should the wall plates decor convey? It must surely identify with your style, being your replica. 

Try colour popping. Choose a bold shade and tonality of the wall plates decor that brighten up the room. 

Oversized plates are underrated. You can also play with jumbo wall plates decor for your room.  

Metal Wall Art: This wall decoration is one of a kind. Metal wall art adds splashes of gold, silver, copper and bronze to the dull walls of every home. If you are looking for a home decoration item that signifies magnificence and luxury, metal wall art is what you must try! Before you buy it online for your home, see the following tips we have in the box for you. 

Keep in mind the metal wall art orientation if you are putting up two or more pieces. 

Your metal wall art must not be too big or too small. 

Place it on a wall with neutral shades(or monochrome!). It would make the metal wall art look more vibrant and intriguing. 

Select the metal wall art by style. Select the metal wall art in a style that matches the furniture. 

Wall Clocks: What is the most underrated home decoration item? Surely, it is wall clocks. Wall clocks online, with a variety of designs, shapes and sizes make room for experimentation and exploration. Wall clocks online not only serve their contemporary purpose but also give a tangent of style. We are sure you’ve rarely seen wall clocks online as a stylish home decoration item. We often notice the functional aspect of wall clocks. Some tips to buy wall clocks online are:

Select a wall clock online that goes best with the essence of your home decor. (Contemporary, boho, modern or minimalist)

Try creating a light and dark combo. Light coloured wall clock against a dark coloured wall & vice versa looks stunning. 

Decide if you want to go for an analogue or digital wall clock. Choose an analogue piece if you want to make your room more artistic.  

Do not rush. Explore, compare and then buy. With various options of wall clocks online, first, compare and then buy the best piece for yourself! 

These were some tips that you should keep in mind before you choose the perfect metal wall watch. Hope you found it helpful!

[gifthampersuk]

The Top 10 Best Gifts For Diwali 2022 To Give To Your Friends And Family

What Is the Best Gift for My Family to Receive for Diwali?

 Are you beginning to experience a growing sense of merriment and excitement within you as the holiday season approaches? Seeing as how it's almost the festival of lights, of course you are! This celebration has the power, much like the pull of a magnet, to bring us all that is positive and cause us to let go of everything that is negative.

 And gifting! It is impossible to say that we have celebrated Diwali in its entirety without presenting our loved ones with gifts on this occasion (we are sure you too are awaiting your secret box of delights :)

 Instead of waiting for others to give you presents, why don't you take the initiative this year and buy something for yourself? This holiday season, demonstrate your gift-giving mastery by setting an example for others to follow. The answer to choosing appropriate presents can be found right in front of you.

 We have compiled a list of one-of-a-kind Diwali gifts for families that can be found here. We are confident that the recipient of one of these gifts will be thrilled to get it. Continue to read. Therefore, let us reveal the mystery...

 Diwali Sweets

 The Indian tradition of giving sweets known as mithais as gifts is as old as time, and we just can't get enough of them. If you've been holding back because you're worried that people will think your sweet cheese hampers UK is old-fashioned or boring, let me assure you that neither of those things will be the case.

 An age-old Indian custom with significant historical and cultural weight is the gifting of sweets during religious celebrations. Because milk, ghee, and sugar are all considered to be sattvic, or pure, ingredients, mithais are typically made from these three things. As a result, mithais are meant to be shared when a joyous festival is being observed.

 Therefore, do not restrict yourself in any way; go ahead. Send your loved ones some sweet treats in the form of a mithai gift basket this Diwali. You have the option of purchasing Special Diwali luxury cheese hampers, each of which comes stocked with a selection of sweets and snacks, such as chocolates and dry fruits.

 Diwali Lights

 Visiting the homes of loved ones during the festival of Diwali is an enjoyable activity for all of us, just as going from one pandal to another during Ganesh Chaturthi and Durga Puja is.

 During this holiday season, the glimmering lights and gorgeous decorations are a visual feast for the observer's eyes. By surprising the people you care about with a present of brightly coloured diyas, bandhanwars, and ready-made rangolis, you can bring more light and beauty into their homes. This can be a very thoughtful gesture. IGP is where you can find some of the most beautiful Diwali lights and diyas available online.

 Decorations for Diwali

 Isn't part of celebrating Diwali to spruce up your house with all sorts of shiny and new things? Then why not think about giving something to your loved one that will make their house more attractive? You can get your hands on a wide variety of original home and living gifts by going online.

 You could give them a Diwali kandil, a vintage designed clock, a murti of Ganesh made of semi-precious stone along with a mesmerising glass puja bell, a designer temple, beautiful serving bowls and trays, metal embossed wall fame, personalised rotating LED cube, graceful vases, floral potpourri with scented candles, and a lot more.

 Silver Gifts

 Choose gold-plated or silver-plated items to give as a gift if you're going for a more hatke vibe. During the festival of Diwali, it is considered fortunate to purchase or give gifts that are crafted using gold or silver because of the beauty of these metals.

 Give as gifts a silver-plated leaf serving bowl with a spoon, a silver-plated thali with floral-shaped diyas, a silver-plated swan-shaped spoon holder, and other similar items. Not only do these have a unique and elegant appearance, but they also give any table or shelf an air of opulence.

 Rangoli

 These days, even Rangolis are popular as gifts for the festival of Diwali. During Diwali, either the interior or exterior of one's home should feature a stunning rangoli design.

 For those who either lack the time or the artistic ability to create a beautiful rangoli for Deepavali, a ready-made rangoli makes an excellent gift option. You can find rangolis with designs such as the adored peacock, pearl work, religious symbols, Gods and Goddesses, and many more on IGP. Purchase rangolis that also come with diyas to round out the gift.

 Diwali Puja Items

 The Hindu festival of lights, also known as Diwali, celebrates the triumph of good over evil. It is celebrated with a great deal of fanfare and pageantry across the nation. On this day, people put on their finest attire, perform the puja with a great deal of devotion, and exchange gifts with one another.

 If you are looking for some gift ideas for the Diwali puja items, then you might want to take a look at the following items:

 Puja Thali

 In order to properly perform a puja, you are required to have a puja thali. It is put to use when making puja offerings to the deities. Beautiful puja thalis make thoughtful presents for friends and family members.

 Puja Items

 A puja thali, along with a set of puja books and a set of puja accessories, make up the components of a set of puja items. People who are new to the puja rituals would benefit greatly from receiving this as a gift.

 Puja Books

 Those who are interested in learning more about the rituals that are performed during puja would appreciate receiving a gift consisting of a set of puja books.

 Puja Accessories

 One can find a set of puja items, a set of puja books, and a set of puja thalis in a set of puja accessories. People who are new to the puja rituals would benefit greatly from receiving this as a gift.

 Items of Food for Diwali

 If you're still looking for gift ideas despite the fact that Diwali is almost here, one option to consider is giving edible presents. Giving someone a gift of food is always well received, and it demonstrates that you care about the recipient of your generosity.

 Here are some suggestions for edible gifts that you could give to people celebrating Diwali.

 Sweets

 Diwali is a festival where sweets are commonly given as a gift. You can find sweets at your neighbourhood Indian grocery store, or you can make them on your own at home. There are a lot of straightforward recipes for making Indian sweets that can be found online.

 Spices

 The gift of spices is yet another excellent culinary present idea for Diwali. Indian cuisine is known for being extremely flavourful and spicy. The recipient will be able to appreciate the flavours of India even more if you give them a gift of spices.

 Tea

 Another wonderful edible gift idea for Diwali is tea. Teas from India are renowned for their quality and flavour. At your neighbourhood Indian grocery store, you'll find a wide variety of different kinds of tea from India to choose from.

 Herbs

 Herbs are yet another excellent choice for a food gift to give on Diwali. India is home to a diverse assortment of herbal varieties. You should be able to find these herbs at your neighbourhood Indian grocery store.

 Gift Vouchers

 During the festival of Diwali, one of the customs that everyone loves to follow, along with the tradition of giving sweets, is going shopping. Giving your loved ones a gift voucher will enable them to do additional shopping for themselves, their homes, or other people who are close to them.

 If the person you care about is an avid reader, you can give them a gift voucher to use at Amazon, Crossword, or any other well-known bookstore. Give a gift certificate to a retailer such as Lifestyle, Big Bazaar, or Shoppers Stop, for example, so that the person you care about can stock up on more festive attire, such as clothing, shoes, and other accessories.

 Personalized Tea Sets and Coffee Mugs

 Let us tell you that personalised mugs and tea sets are always a hit with staff members at any company. You can make it special for each of your employees by writing a message that is tailored to them specifically. They are going to adore the thoughtful gesture that you made. After all, expressions of gratitude play a significant part in the overall joy and contentment that an employee derives from their work.

 Diaries and Pens

 Therefore, it is necessary for them to maintain order in both their private and professional lives. When working with employees, it is not always necessary to take on the role of a boss; instead, you can serve as a mentor to them.

 Give them individualised planners and writing implements as a thoughtful gift to encourage them to develop the habit of keeping their work well-organized. You can look through some of the best personalised diaries and pens that are available online here.

 Plants

 Make the festival of Diwali into an opportunity to get the word out about the importance of protecting the environment by planting trees and flowers. Give the gift of an indoor or outdoor plant to ensure that the spaces in which your loved ones spend their time at work and at home are healthy, peaceful, and relaxing places for them to flourish.

 When you doubt what to give as a present, a more well-rounded selection is always welcome. Here's where the superb gift baskets from Hamper Lounge prove useful. The contents of a gift hamper can include anything from food and drink to clothing and toys. They are perfect for holidays, birthdays, and any other special occasion.

[divinitigifts]

Traditions, Beliefs, Customs & Significance of Ganesh Chaturthi

Ganesh Chaturthi is the welcoming of  Lord Ganesh from the heavenly abode of Mount Kailash to the earth along with his mother Goddess Parvathi. This is one of the most popular events among the Hindus and is widely celebrated all across the country. Devotees make arrangements in their homes to organize puja 24-carat gold plated gift items and Hindu spiritual products.

The blessings of Lord Ganesh are effective in removing all kinds of obstacles. Hence he is commonly referred to as Vighnaharta which means obstacles or problems. He is the giver of wealth, fortune, prosperity and is the protector of evils.

History about how Ganesh Chaturthi started

Ganesh Chaturthi is also known as Vinayak Chaturthi. Though it is unclear exactly when it started according to historical evidence, Shivaji, the warrior king, started worshipping the Lord. Furthermore, Indian freedom fighter Lokmanya Tilak made it popular in the 19th century. Initially, Ganesh Chaturthi was accompanied by large public gatherings but later it became a homely affair as well.

The earliest mention of Ganapati or the Elephant God was found in the Rigveda. References to the Lord were also found in many medieval Puranas, religious hymns, and in ancient Sanskrit texts. Carvings and sculptures of Ganeshji were found in most Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist temples. This proves the importance of Ganapati.

Auspicious time and date of  Ganesh Chaturthi this year

Celebrations of Ganesh Chaturthi start in the month of Bhadrapada, according to the Hindu calendar. It falls on the fourth day of the first fortnight. This year, devotees will celebrate the festival on 22nd August with much grandeur. During this festival, devotees dress up in their best attire, observe fast, conduct puja and praise the Lord by singing various devotional hymns. The authorities of the pandals distribute prashads and offerings. It is not a one-day extravaganza but stretches to the tenth day. On the last day, huge processions are seen carrying the idols of Lord Ganesh to immerse it in a nearby water body.

Popular rituals and customs surrounding Ganesh Chaturthi

One of the most common customs on the first day of the festival is to avoid looking at the moon. People believe this creates ill effects.

On the following day, the idol of Ganeshji is bathed in clean and scented water. A new saffron cloth is used to cover the Lord. With full carefulness sandalwood paste and fresh flower, the garland is placed on the idol and also on the asan.

One of the most famous and craved sweets that will always accompany Ganesh puja is Modak. It is a dumpling made of rice or flour stuffed with jaggery, dry fruits, and coconut. Devotees believe that this little sweet dish is an all-time favorite of the lord as stated in the Hindu scriptures. Hence it is an absolute compulsion to prepare modak.

The time of the puja usually stretches for around 2 hours 30 minutes. There is a minimum of sixteen rituals that are performed. After the puja is completed, bending down in front of the idol to seek blessings is a common practice.

So, celebrate Ganesh puja this year with Diviniti. Buy gold plated home decor items, puja samagri, gold plated unique wall clocks, and many other gift items. Be a part of this upcoming major celebration with us.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 ~

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; chan x fem!reader, bonnie&clyde!au, criminal!au, 60′s!au, bank robbery, heavy use of tobacco, explicit language,weaponry, mentions of infidelity, manipulation, mentions of murder, mentions of reader being smaller than chan, mentions of religious beliefs, authorities, american style!au, death, implied su-cide. 

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; SMUT!! sex against a wall (lmao good warning there cherry), dom!chan x sub!fem!reader, angry sex, dry humping, degradation, blowjob, face fucking, rough sex, dacryphilia, choking, possessiveness, implied corruption kink, creampie, unprotected sex (be careful plz), piv, clitorial stimulation, orgasm (m/f), cum. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 5.9 k 

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 ; this was heavily inspired by both well bonnie and clyde but also “the serpent” because holy fuck i loved that serie so much 

also warning right; this is purely fiction and not meant to romanticise crime and i think it’s pretty obvious that i don’t know shit about how to rob a bank neither do i know anything about weapons,,, so take this with a grain of salt.

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18

It was love. Love had led you down this path and shattered the one you cared the most about, the one that held your hand, the one that promised to die for you. Silence filled your mind as you stroked his cold cheek, his eyes closed. 

Your partner in crime.

Bang Chan.

“Tonight, coming up on channel 4, the continuation of the Lagoons.”

You turned the knob on the car radio, the windows on the silver vauxhall viva rolled down, your hair fluttering in the light breeze that accompanied the summer heat. The voice on the radio got distorted as you shifted channels, the antenna on the car barely being able to pick up signal from how far out in the desolate area the two of you were.

“Who the fuck watches the lagoons?” you said, furrowing your eyebrows, searching for some funky tunes as Chan was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He laughed, the cigarette smoke whiffing over to you, burning at the tip and hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Where we heading, sweet cakes?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows and checking himself out in the rearview mirror. You scoffed, adjusting the silk scarf around your head and reaching into the glove compartment of the light colored interior of the car, grabbing the half empty cigarette box. 

“Don’t call me that, I’m married” you say, the flicker of the metal zippo echoing, a purple flame igniting and burning the white end of the cigarette in your mouth, the orange part quickly stained by your lipstick. Chan smirked, casting a glance at you as you puffed, putting the lighter on the dashboard and leaning back against the leather seats, exhaling the smoke through the window as you observed the mountains that passed you, sweltering heat making your vision blur.

“And still you fuck me. What’s he good for? Cheating on you? You should just throw that ring away, I’ll buy you a new one”

The ring.

You and your ex-husband never officially divorced. You just packed up your things and left one night when he was out drinking, probably snogging a woman younger his age. The emerald ring that he once put on your finger held no meaning, it was simply for aesthetic now. Memorabilia from when life was worse, reminding you to always strive for something better. It was ironic, the way the sun shined on the emerald green symbolizes wealth and toxic jealousy. You couldn’t help but to feel jealous of the many young women he spent his nights with. You thought you had moved on but maybe you hadn’t since you refused to let go of the ring. Thank god you didn’t have his child or else you’d be tied down for life. You escaped at the right time. 

You didn’t answer Chan, simply staring out at the window. The car zoomed past with speed, there was no time for resting since you two were the infamous criminals that could be captured at any moment, it was still a miracle you were alive and well despite how many times you’ve been in open fire with the authorities. The two of you always managed and had each other in the end and the plethora of guns that were loaded in the trunk could buy you freedom for a little while. A gritty highway that never seemed to end, the tumbleweeds rolling about in the distance, he searched for a place you could rest since dusk would soon arrive. Life as a runaway couple had it’s ups and downs but the worst part of it was not knowing if you would survive another day, cops could just arrest you, rip you from your lover and lock you up like you were once before, writing love letters to Chan on a filthy piece of paper until you were bailed out by none other than your mother that you abandoned for him. They didn’t understand. He might be a criminal, stealing cars with his older brother since he admired his fancy lifestyle with hookers, expensive liquor and gold. He was so close until he stumbled up to you through a mutual friend and fell head over heels, he was too much of a hopeless romantic for him to be able to lead such a lifestyle. 

A big sign was ahead of you, a small red building inching closer to the two of you. Sure, it wasn’t the safest place, anyone could call the authorities on you but luckily telecommunications weren’t that advanced out here, most of the news being the ones you heard from between others lips. You two were simply a married couple whatever new village you infiltrated or at least that’s what people thought, the two of you were simply well-off, being able to afford the most expensive cigars and perfumes. The cigarette had burned down, almost meeting your plush lips that were covered in the latest lipstick. You threw it out the window, Chan had done the same moments prior. 

“What you say, hm? How about here for tonight?” he asked in a low voice, his hair slicked to the side, his jaw clenching as he rested his head on the headrest, looking at you with a quick glance with a smile. He always smiled when he gazed at you, it was almost a reflex. He was too smitten with love. You nodded, grabbing your oval sunglasses from the seat in between you and Chan, putting them on and observing yourself in the exterior mirror. Now you were ready for greetings with strangers, hiding behind your dark tinted shades.

The young man swerves onto the dusty driveway, the dust billowing from behind the car as stones flew everywhere, the car coming to a hasty halt. Your back bounced against the seat, removing your safety belt and opening the car door, stepping out with your shining red heels. The hotel seemed kinda small, perfect place for two sought-after criminals to hide. The building was a cherry red, tacky curtain in mustard yellow covering the chipped white window frames that held up the grimy glass panes. It lied in a remote place, being the only building as far as the eyes could see, beside the hotel there was a kiosk where one could buy the most basic necessities like bread, milk and cigarettes. As you were looking around the place, standing with your feet wide and your hand on your hip, Chan was busy unpacking the car. Not the weapons that were nicely hidden beneath a blanket but your two small briefcases containing nothing more than a couple of expensive clothes, makeup, a small notebook of your poems, a camera and photos of relatives. As you observed the mountainous landscape and dry land where cactuses made their home a small old man hurried out, dressed in a half-dingy suit and vest, the colorful tie being the main focus.

“Welcome welcome!” he says in a scurried voice. “Please, let me!” The old man shuffled over to Chan, grabbing the briefcases out of his grasp to which Chan bowed subtly in thankfulness. You and him followed the man inside through a lime green door and were greeted by the lobby that had a dark oak check-in counter, decorated with small trinkets of older times, a golden clock and small piles of paper. The man put down the bags in front of the desk, you casting a glance at Chan that was looking at the keys and the tags attached on the walls on small hooks.

“How long will you be staying for?” the man asked to which Chan hummed, looking at you before clearing his throat and answering - “Just one night”

“alrighty hmmm,,, then I’m guessing a double bed would suit your fancy? You do make a lovely couple indeed” he said with a smile, showing off his yellow stained teeth, years of coffee and tobacco. You smiled, clenching your jaw in frustration. 

“Thank you, which room exactly?” you said quickly, wanting the old man to hurry his actions. He looked back, exposing his half-balding grey head of hair and stretched for a pair of keys at the top, the keys jingling as he put them on the desk. 

“Room 4, it’s just here by the side. That will be 30 dollars” he said, writing something down on a piece of paper. Chan opened one of the luggages, quickly pulling out the needed amount and tips out from one of many wads of cash that were neatly tucked away between clothes and other products. He put the green bills on the desk to which the old man heightened his eyebrows, the generous tip falling to his liking. 

“Keep the change” Chan said with a smile, picking up the briefcases and heading to the room. You smiled at the old man as well, picking up the keys and turning to head over to your lover. 

You put the keys in the lock of the brittle wooden door, a small golden plate saying ‘4′ with a clear font. As the door opened you were met by a rather rustic room, the walls colored light blue and the bed frame the same wood as the door, murky white duvet covers on the bed. Luckily it was just one night.

Chan started packing up your belongings, mainly picking up a map of the area that he bought at a supermarket hours prior. He unfolded the bunt of paper, laying it flat on a vanity that had a round mirror attached in front. He placed his index finger harshly on a certain point on the map, his fingers clad in all kinds of rings with jewels. 

“Here we are, Johnsons motel, right?” You nodded at his question, him continuing talking in a firm voice. “So if we take this route tomorrow at around 9 am we should be there by 10:50 am which is perfect, we c-” You interrupted him mid sentence.

“Chan, you told me we weren’t gonna do this until next week, we have money!” you yelled, only then remembering that the walls are thin in such a matured building. He sighed, turning to gaze at you with dark eyes. He hated it when you contradicted him, it was almost like he was addicted to making you his slave and sure, he did take care of you whenever you were hurt due to his actions but he liked having you totally dependent on him, risking your life for him. The veins running down his arms got bolder, he moved the arm that was holding him up from the vanity instead standing right in front of you with a wide stance, his eyebrows heightened.

“What did you say?”

Your back hit the tasteless blue wallpaper as Chan walked towards you, trapping you between the wall and his muscular figure. A harsh gulp descended down your esophagus as you gazed intently into his hooded eyes, yours twinkling with mere innocence though you were far from innocent in the eyes of the public. He looked you up and down, almost swearing with his eyes, gliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

“I said why can’t we just wait with that for a bit? We robbed multiple stores last week and we have money? I don’t see why you need to hurry so, like fuck s-”

“So you think money grows on trees? We do this together y/n and I could just leave you whenever, I’d just laugh seeing your ass trying to survive”

He leaned closer to your ear, his body pressed against yours. His hot breath lingered near you, tickling the shell of your ear.

“Or better yet I could kill you, no one needs a criminal” 

His voice vibrated through you, the deep tone scaring you but oddly turning you on, the heat pooling around your core, your panties sticking to the thin fabric of your panties. You burst into laughter, catching him off guard.

“You motherfucker” you said through your teeth, smiling brightly at him. 

“I don’t like this attitude you’re giving me y/n, I’m not joking with you” he said with a devilish smirk, moving away from your ear and staring into your soul. It was almost as if he stared through you, his jaw moving as he clenched it.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” your facial expressions turned serious in seconds, the smile wiping off your face. You looked him dead in the eyes, not even flinching when he smashed the rough palm of his hand on the wall next to your head, the loud sound echoing in the cool room, the slight humming of the air conditioner above the bed.

“No and you won’t be after I fuck you” 

You wanted to rile him up even more, get him so angry that he had no other choice but to pin you against the wall and stuff his cock so far down your leaking cunt that you’d alert the other guests around the motel, hearing how good Chan fucks you. 

“Hah,,, is that your only threat?” you chuckled mockingly, running your pointer finger up his toned chest, lifting up his head by his chin and flicking your finger off it, striking a jeering smile at him. His knee traveled up your leg, jabbing at your wet clothed entrance to which you accidentally moan, the gain of friction finally arriving when your core was burning with pure arousal as Chan spoke. With a gleaming look in your eyes you rubbed against his knee, his slightly cold hands wrapping around your neck, feeling your larynx bob when you swallow your spit, not breaking eye contact for a second. His lips landed on yours, pushing his knee against your sex causing you to moan into the kiss as you rolled your hips on the flat surface of his dress pants. Your lips pursed, teasingly biting his bottom lip as a sign that you needed him, his tongue slipping into your mouth and danced around with yours in a sloppy battle. Your hands fumbled with the big metal buckle of his belt, undoing it in desperation and unzipping the black pants that covered his bottom half. Chan grunted as you palmed him through his boxers, his erection begging to be freed from it’s clothed prison, you squeezed his member, massaging it in your hands to make his knees weak, make him beg for you but this time you would be begging for him as he placed removed his knee from your dripping cunt causing you to whine from the loss of contact. 

“C-chan, please I need you” you pleaded in a thin voice, lifting your head up as his kiss diverted to your neck, his rough lips leaving kiss after kiss on the sensitive skin, moving down to your exposed collarbones. 

“You’ll only get what you want if you do whatever I ask you to”

You nodded eagerly, putting your hands down his boxers and stroking his cock, Chan groaning against the skin of your neck near your ear, your earrings rattling. 

“Yes, I’ll do anything! J-just fuck me already” you whimpered, your hot cheek against the wall. 

“Then you follow your little ass to the bank tomorrow and do what you are told, understood?” His voice was deep, humming as he nibbled on your ear, giving it small kitten licks.

“And if I don’t?” You challenged him for a last time, stopping your slow strokes down the shaft of his twitching dick and removing your hands from his underwear and instead wrapping your arms around his waist. He scoffs, pulling back and looking you in the eyes, slowly putting his hand around your throat and tightening.

“I’ll choke you to death, you know I’ll get away with it” he said with a lifeless smirk. You nodded in pure fear, your eyes twinkling in the minimal light that came from the sun setting outside the dusty windows. Suddenly his hands grasp a handful of your hair, gripping it by the roots and shoving you down on your knees that land on the frangible floorboards with a thump. He harshly lets go of your hair in order to pull down his pants and underwear, his hard veiny cock springing free mere inches from your saliva coated lips. Chan gave his cock a couple of strokes before rubbing the crimson tip against your lips, hissing when you poke your tongue out, him smearing his precum against the surface of your wet tongue. You pursed your lips around him, slowly working your way down his shaft, taking a breath of air every time you pull away, licking the underside of his dick with fat stripes all the way from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue off. His big hands grabbed either side of your head, him thrusting inside your throat, not caring if you gagged, that just made him even more viscous, hearing your desperate moaning and seeing the spit run down your chin and neck covered in his marks. Your head bumped against the wall with every thrust, your nose pressing up against his abdomen as he was balls deep inside your mouth. Your eyes burned, tears teasing at your tear duct, a cold salty stream rolling down your cheek as he stopped, pulling out your mouth, you coughing violently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek, wiping the tear with one finger before grabbing you by the neck, lifting your head up and looking into your eyes as he inserted his dick in your mouth once again, your thick saliva making his cock glisten. His silent groans only made you helplessly rub your thighs together, eager to have him inside of you. Every moan that slipped from between his swollen lips made the blood rush south, not to mention his fierce eyes that were glued on you as he coldly fucked your skull, no hint of compassion. He stretched out your throat, the clear outline of his cock making its appearance on your esophagus as he went deeper, groaning as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. As the familiar sensation of a knot in his stomach descended upon him he pulled out, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock against your glistening lips before he was quick with his movements. 

It didn’t take much for Chan to throw you over his shoulder, legs thrashing and you squealing, telling him to put you down. He did but not in the way you expected, slamming you down on the plushy bed, a fine layer of dust swirling in the orange sunset that shined in. The impact caught you off guard, knocking the air out of your lungs. Chan climbed on top of you, his belt buckle touching your body as he hovered above you. You hastily shuffled upwards to the headboard, lifting your hips as you removed your brightly colored bell bottom pants revealing your panties that already had a wet stain decorating them, Chan chuckling as his thumb glided over the patch of wetness. 

“You’re so needy baby, all worked up from giving me a blowjob, huh? I can slip my cock into you so easily” he purred at you, his fingers hooking at the elastic band of your underwear, slipping them down to your ankles, you shimmying your foot out of the fabric and letting the panties dangle from your other foot as your spread your legs, Chan being in between them. He danced his fingers up the wet folds that presented themselves in front of him, you squirming at the slightest touch. 

“You think you have control, you think you can do anything without me? You’re wrong, without me you’re nothing” he growled at you, his fingers covered in your slick as he teased your clit, fingers rolling in circles as you clutched onto the covers, knuckles whitening. You hurried by taking off your top, throwing your bra somewhere in the same direction, exposing your hardened buds, Chan’s mouth watering. He did the same, momentarily losing contact with your wet cunt as he pulled off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted body surprising you every time, as if you hadn’t fucked him countless times before. Chan attached his lips to one of your nipples, the other one being fondled by his hand, the cold pure silver causing you to shiver. Your hands stroked his soft hair, twirling it between your fingers and softly whimpering. He left tiny marks all over your chest, his lips sucking and gently nibbling on your supple skin. When your entire chest was a mess of marks and spit he lifted your legs, leaning them against his wide sturdy shoulders as he teased your wet entrance, rubbing his tip against your folds causing your back to arch slightly, a long pitched mewl forcing its way out of your mouth. When he finally slipped his cock inside you he groaned at your tightness. 

“fuck y/n, you’re so tight no matter how much I fuck you” he said, leaning over you so that your legs almost touch your chest, planting one hand beside your neck as the other one choked you, the restriction of air making you lightheaded but only adding to the pleasure that burned at your core as he relentlessly fucked into your squelching cunt. Your feet dangled near his shoulders lifelessly as the sheer momentum of his thrusts made you move upwards on the bed, the bed frame creaking due to the age it carried, you hoped no one noticed what scandalous activities was going on this room but it was probably already too late as your moans turned into high pitched cries. Your hands folded over Chan’s wrist as you tried to stabilize yourself, it took every ounce of strength to not close your quivering thighs. His thrusts got faster, rolling his hips against yours as the hand around your neck loosed, a harsh slap landing across your tear stained cheek, his thumb dipping inside your mouth, you latching on instantly.

“Look at you, thinking you’re so tough. You’re weak, remember that” he said with a lifted smirk, asserting his dominance through his dark gaze. You nodded, feeding his ego even more as the hand around your neck tightened, making you lightheaded with arousal, his cock ramming into your tight cunt that begged for release just like you. Chan loved seeing you like this. All fucked out with drool hanging from the corners of your lips, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he vigorously made your world shake, going hard enough to make the bed squeak loudly, the headboard bumping into the wall with every thrust. You couldn’t form a single sentence, blabbering incoherent sentences with his name stringed into it, in your mind you made perfect sense but your hesitant lips didn’t do the same. 

“f-fuck!” you cried out, the even pace getting sloppier as the skin slapping sound grew louder, bouncing against the awfully colored walls of the shabby motel room. You squirmed around on the bed, flailing your arms as you desperately tried to grab onto either your lover or the flowery sheets, your efforts fruitless as you felt your orgasm approaching with wide strides as Chan started circling your swollen abused clit with the pad of the hand that wasn't forcefully holding onto your throat, making you swoon. You arched your back as you couldn’t hold on any longer, clenching around his cock with every ounce of perseverance. With weak legs you interlaced them, trapping him deeper inside you as the merciless fiddling with your bud made you let out a breathy broken moan, your tits bouncing with the movements. The male looked at the tears that rolled down your cheeks, adoring your bloodshot eyes. How he loved staring down at his prized possession. He had ruined a once innocent girl, made her his with the mere power of love and crime. 

He lulled his head back as he was dangerously close to his climax, drawing in a harsh breath from between his clenched teeth, the air cooling down in his mouth before warming up in his tobacco-stained lungs. He was sent over the edge with a final thrust that made your body jolt in excitement, his thumb now simply resting on your clit as all thoughts were wiped clean from his mind, his hot seed spilling into your cunt, unknowingly making you cum as your abdomen contracted, your teary eyes squinting together, not in pain but in pleasure. His cum painted the quivering walls of your sex, draping his body over yours as he panted, staying inside you to ensure every drop of cum was where it supposed to be. His lips were coated with a fine layer of saliva, two lips meeting in a loveable kiss. It might seem odd to others. That you love a man that only brings you down or uses you, at least that’s what it looked like from a different perspective but you were infatuated, maybe even obsessed. He made you famous and he took you under his wing when you fled from your scumbag of a husband. 

Now Chan was the only thing that mattered.

He pulled out, falling down beside you, the weight of the bed shifting as his built back hit it. The cum dripped out of you slowly, hitting the sheets and staining them. You ruffled your hair before you stood up, cum running down your inner thigh as you made your way over to the shower. Chan instead crept down under the covers, staring up at the ceiling in a half lying position, casting glance at the dark oak bedside tables where a packet of cigarettes was left haphazardly along with your metal zippo, a gift from your dad that died in war. It was important to you, important enough to destroy you with smoke. Chan retrieved one of the deadly sticks from it’s pretty eye catching packaging and lit one end, inhaling the smoke. He put one hand beneath his head that was supported by the pillow as he other one momentarily removed the cigarette, flicking the ashes on the cold tile floor, the grey thick smoke spreading through the room, interlacing the bed sheets with it’s scent. The gentle tapping of the water on the bathroom floor calmed him, calmed him from knowing that tomorrow might be the last day he’s alive. Or maybe it’s you. 

Here you were again, getting into the sparkling clean car that was loaded with nothing more than a multitude of weaponry that many times wasn’t used against civilians, just to give a gentle reminder that you don’t fuck with the two of you unless you wanna get a bullet burned through your skull. If they ask for it they are gonna get it.

Chan loaded the suitcases into the truck where a blanket covered the weapons, the pile of murder machines looking innocent like this. The sand of the desert was blowing in your face, your long skirt flowing in the wind. Just because you were a criminal didn’t mean you had to dress out of fashion, the style was a part of it. You gazed out into the valleys of dust, the lonesome tumbleweeds drifting with the wind like a blind rat following the smell of musky cheese, not aware that it’s heading to it’s own death.

“Ready, sugarplum?” Chan said, wrapping his hand around your head and leaning it against his sturdy shoulder. 

“I was born ready” you whispered into the wuthering wind. He smiled but put on a serious face as you looked at him, before walking over to the passenger seat, opening the car door.

“Let’s do what we do best, darling.” you said with a bittersweet grin, sitting down and closing the door. 

The bank wasn’t too far away, that being that it was still in the same state since many other robberies required long car rides that was either filled with funky tunes or more cigarettes than you can count. This one wasn’t any different. His two hands were gripping the steering wheel as he drove faster than the speed limit, praying to whatever nonexistent god he had in his head that the police wouldn’t flash their red and blue sirens behind the vehicle. He probably prayed to the money. He often said that money did things not even god was able to do and there was truth in Chan’s words or maybe the both of you were too infatuated with the idea of money that you would go to any lengths just to get it. Just to smell the fresh dollar bills in your hands. The car was in complete silence, only the growling of the engine being heard. It was always scary heading to a new place, you never knew what would happen there. Maybe it’s the last time you witness your lover behind the steering wheel, the last time you feel the wind fluttering through you hair due to the rolled down window. Maybe it was the last time you would see the emerald green jewel reflecting it’s light as the sun bounced off the glossy surface of the stone. You denied your longing for your husband, beside all the cheating and drugs you were ready to stay with him but there was one thing that Chan could do better; love. 

You could tell how tense Chan was. The way he anxiously checked the rearview mirror and forcefully looked straight at the neverending road in the middle of nowhere. It was pretty apparent that this lifestyle was driving him mad, making all his nerves stand on the edge of his skin, paranoid to the bone. But there was no end in sight unless someone else put that end there. He was never gonna stop, go as far as he could and shoot for the stars. It was people like him, greedy people that life usually steered the wrong way and well,,, you were one of those as well, greedy for luxury even though the life you were living now was anything far from that. You turned to Chan, his one hand rested in his lap and you slowly reached over to grab it, rubbing your thumb over knuckles. His eyes momentarily diverted from the road to you, looking at your eyes that were focused on his slightly rough hands.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chan parked into the parking lot of the bank, the building being just as remotely placed as the motel. Perfect. The car was strategically placed near the road for easy escape if there would even be any required. As you stepped out of the car you opened the trunk, uncovering the multitude of weapons that lay beneath the blanket and passed Chan his favorite rifle, the M1918 Browning Rifle. You simply stuck to a revolver since you could hide it in your holster for when you needed two hands to grab the money and shove it into the burlap bag. 

There wasn’t much thought needed for the robberies that happened this far away from the city, the local police station was a good drive away so neither you or Chan worried too much but it was still a risk. The big wooden doors were slammed open by him, a shot up into the ceiling shattered a lamp and next second your ears were filled by the terrified screams of men, women and children. You didn’t hesitate your movements as you went up to the multiple receptionist desks where the women in neat uniforms were all kneeling on the floor. 

“Get the fuck up!” you yelled, jumping on the desk and pointing your gun at one of the girls, she looked rather young and innocent with her dark shaking pupils that wandered with pure fear. You yelled at her to open all the vaults, to which she complied not having any other choice than to get shot. Her hands quivered as she put the money in the bag, filling it up with valuable green bills that would promise you dreams. You glanced back at Chan that was pointing the rifle at the people that lied down on their stomachs with their hands on their head, the sound of a child's tears not even bothering him or his conscience. You held the gun to her head, lonesome tears streaming down her face as her legs were barely able to hold her up. A smile cracked on your crimson painted lips as the bag filled up, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your blood making you fly on the clouds, you could do whatever you wanted in this moment. You were free. 

Just as you were about to turn around, signaling to Chan that the mission was done you heard another gunshot that was foreign from the usual sounds of the weapons you carried. It didn’t sound like it came from inside the building. The second after you heard a window shatter, glass flying over the civilians that screamed in fear once again and then you heard a thump, a loud one. You looked over your shoulder and there he was, your lover with a bullet through his back, the puddle of sangria red blood spreading over the bright vinyl flooring. This was the sight you feared the most in the world and here it was, right in front of your naked eyes. You dropped the revolver you held in your dominant hand and rushed over to him as you heard a male voice over a megaphone from outside the building. 

“Civilians, exit the building immediately”

The crowd of people squeezed through the doors, fleeing to whatever corner they could or hiding behind the countless cop cars that flashed their colorful sirens. You dragged Chan’s head into your lap as you fell down in defeat, looking at his closed eyes and his face that turned a pale blue with hints of grey, he was cold to the touch and his blood stained your clothes as well as the floor, the dark red marks on the floor that lead to his body as you dragged him closer to you, cupping his cheek. Frigid tears rolled down your cheeks and accumulated on your chin before dripping down onto his face, coloring his lips with a clear sheen. 

He wasn’t gone, he simply couldn’t be. He was your Chan, the Chan that always got away no matter what. Nothing could stop the two of you, not a stupid bullet through his back. You shaked him as you sobbed loudly, your lips quivering as black streaks of mascara covered the supple valleys of your cheeks. 

“Chan! Chan, fuck!! Wake up!!” you yelled as you shook him vigorously but his lifeless body was limp in your arms, no sign of life to be seen. You hugged him closer, not feeling his heartbeat or lungs filling with air from this cursed place. He wasn’t gone, he was still here and he would wake up one day, you told yourself these lies because they are easier to believe than the cold hard truth. Your blood boiled with pure rage. Somebody had stopped your dream life, that someone being the law itself but no matter who it was it still stopped you and you never took no for an answer. Your empty lost gaze diverted to the loaded gun that lied only footsteps away from your cowered body.

“Exit the building, leave the weapons” you heard the voice call out from outside, the megaphone crackling and distorting the voice. 

What was better?

Dying in the hands of the authorities or dying in Chan’s arms?

[divinespiritualgifts]

Celebrating Raksha Bandhan: The Festival Of Love Between Siblings

Raksha Bandhan is the only festival that celebrates the bond of trust between brothers and sisters. It also increases solidarity. Read this article and know more. 

The tradition of Raksha Bandhan dates to 1905 when Rabindranath began it as a protest. Especially, against the bifurcation in Bengal by Lord Curzon. Even since then, people all over India are celebrating Raksha Bandhan as a divine festival. 

Raksha Bandhan Celebrations All Over The Country 

Hindus celebrate this pious festival along with Jains and certain Sikhs and people of Indian origin. Celebrations take place in different parts of the country under different names and various traditions. 

Raksha Bandhan is also known as Narali Poornima in Maharashtra. The fishermen across the state invoke their Gods and Goddesses by praying for blessings. They would further throw coconut into the sea. 

Secondly, Brahmins observe this day as Balev which signifies dedication. Moreover, they transform their holi janeu threads and seek blessings for spiritual evolution. Raksha Bandhan is also celebrated as Avani Avittam in South India. 

Just like Balev, Brahmins not only convert their janeu but also renew their spiritual vows. They would read Vedas which is the most primitive religious text of India. 

In Nepal, similar celebrations take place with the name of Janeu Poornima. In the northern state of Jammu, people bask in the joy of flying kites. Days before the day of Raksha Bandhan, kites of different colours and shapes are visible in the sky. 

The Actual Raksha Bandhan Celebration

When it comes to counting the most definite form of the Raksha Bandhan celebration, there is no single answer. Because all traditions are unique and full of enjoyment. However, the most conventional celebration includes sisters tying a Rakhi on their brother’s wrist. 

Brothers, on the other hand, give presents to their sisters and promise to protect them forever. If you are a brother who is much concerned about what to gift his sister, here is a list of ideas:

Gold plated bookmarks for a sister that is still studying 

To enhance her beauty, you can gift her custom gold plated pendants. She is surely going to love it.

You can buy gold plated wall clocks for her room. 

Buy an MDF photo frame online and store a picture of you two. Later, gift it to her. Tears will roll down her eyes. 

Conclusion 

Looking for a place to purchase gold plated gift items for your sister? Why go somewhere else when Diviniti is right by your side? You will get the best 24 carat gold gift items all under one roof. So, don’t wait any longer and contact them today.

[leafs-lover]

Almost Predictable

Summary: After some time together your sex life is lacking, and you will do almost anything to reignite that flame.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smut, oral sex (m+f receiving), sex in public places

Word Count: 7k

“Hey babe" you squeal jumping in his arms, having not seen him in almost a week because of a road trip.

He quickly drops his bag and catches you, hands gripping the bottom of your thighs. “Hey" he smiles while you bring your lips to his “missed you” he mumbles against your lips.

“Missed you too" your fingers snake into his hair, pulling his chain back with them. You smell his familiar cologne while you continue to place quick kisses on his lips. He continues down the hall his shoes hitting the hardwood.

Upon entering the bedroom he sets you down on your feet, your hands pulling his face down to yours. You stand on your tippy toes to meet him in the middle locking him in a passionate kiss. Fred’s hands rest on the small of your back, you feel him smiling against your lips. You step away pulling your tee from your body.

It’s your favourite band tee that you’ve had since you saw them perform in college. Through the many years and washes it is faded, the design partially chipped in some fabric. The hem has stretched from the wear, it now hanging off your shoulder.

You throw the shirt in the corner, revealing your bare chest having forgone a bra when you got dressed this morning. Fred smiles seeing your exposed chest and he walks forward placing a soft but passionate kiss against your lips.

Before Fred would have picked you up and pressed you against the wall seeing you like that. Or he would have turned you around bending you over the end of the bed fucking you from behind. He would have changed positions, sending orgasm after orgasm ripping through you.  

It started off slowly, so slow you didn’t notice. Beginning with him no longer fucking you in every room or on every surface imaginable. Your morning coffee being drank at the table while he scrolled on his phone, where before it was you lying back on the island screaming out while his head was between your legs.

Next was the repetition. Positions weren’t changed up, alternating which one of you on their back against the mattress. The pace remaining constant, becoming almost predictable.

The last and final thing you noticed was the spontaneity. He used to pull you aside anywhere, team galas, parties one time he even pulled you away at the Christmas party pushing you to your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. If there was a door with a lock you were going to use it.

You always tried to fix your outfit and makeup before returning but the girl’s smirks and the guys not so subtle comments making it obvious they knew. Even if your hair wasn’t a complete mess the marks he left on your body telling your story.

Long behind you were the days of car sex during an impromptu late night drive or being woken up by him sucking on your clit, but now after a few years that fire is gone. It’s not that the sex had become bad, because it wasn’t. It was just missing that spark it used to have, and this time while he is on top of you slowly thrusting in and out feels no different.

He stills on top of you, nipping at your collarbone. He slowly pulls out glancing over at the clock “we are meeting everyone at 9 so you have plenty of time" he says kissing your lips. He walks away leaving you lying naked on the bed.

A couple hours later you sit at the table eating your dinner quietly. You can feel Fred’s gaze lingering on you while you stare down at your plate.

“Everything okay (Y/N)?” he finally breaking the silence.

“Hmm oh yeah" you respond pushing some carrots around on your plate. You reach forward grabbing your water taking a sip, locking eyes with him.

His gaze has narrowed and he huffs “just tell me. It will be so much easier if you just tell me.”

You lean back in your seat staring at him setting your glass on the table. You hear the sound of it hitting the table and begin the run your fingers around the rim of the glass buying time.

“It’s nothing” you lie turning your attention to your dinner. You stab some carrots bringing them up to your mouth. Fred watches you chew them and when you reach to get some more he reaches across grabbing your fork bringing your gaze up to his.

“Come on we live together, I know when something is wrong and when you’re lying to me" he groans.

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s” you say pausing for a second. “It’s just…have you…I just think…well I…” you stammer out.

His brown eyes glare at you, waiting for you to respond. Your heart feels like it’s practically ready to burst from your chest.

“What is it (Y/N)?” he grunts.

“Do you feel like the sex has changed" you blurt out.

“What?” he says half laughing but more out of awkwardness “do you?”

You take a minute and a few deep breaths staring into his chest unable to meet his gaze.

“It’s nothing” you quickly respond. “Forget I said it, I have to get ready.” You push your chair back getting up from the table practically running to the bathroom. You lock the door behind you leaning against it you take some deep breaths.

You can’t believe you just said that that those words actually came out. Finally you groan and pull your phone out. You set it to your playlist, the playlist you typically use at the gym or when you are giving the kitchen a deep clean. You set the volume on the speaker louder than normal and step into the shower.

You probably stand in there way too long, the stream making you run through that moment a million times. You are baffled that you said something. Especially because it’s not bad, it’s just missing a little bit of spice.

Finally the water is getting cold, and you can’t turn it up higher. You reluctantly turn it off and step out onto the cool tile floor, wrapping yourself in a towel you stare at yourself through the fogged up mirror. You grip the edges of the counter, knuckles going white taking a few deep breaths.

You turn off the music and unlock the door. You expect to see Fred sitting on the bed waiting to talk to you, but instead the sheets are crisp and the pillows still in place. You can hear the faint volume from the TV in the living room.

You sigh throwing on some casual clothes and begin doing your hair. At 7:30 you feel Fred brush up behind you turning on the shower. He says nothing, standing there waiting for the right temperature while you finish your hair.

He jumps in the shower and you walk to the closet. The steam making it hard for you to do your makeup properly. You look to the outfit you had considered wearing, black jeans with a floral tank top and a leather jacket. You like this outfit but it’s comfortable, safe and that’s not the look you want to go with anymore.

You scan the closet trying to decide what to wear when you hear the blow dryer start while Fred dries his hair. You walk up beside him and begin brushing your teeth. You make sure to not look into the mirror, but you can feel him burning a hole into your flesh with his gaze.

At 8:30 you walk out of the bedroom to find Fred waiting on the couch. The TV and all the lights are off except for one lamp, dimly on in the corner. Even still the space is illuminated by the bright Toronto skyline, Fred staring aimlessly out the window.

He turns the dryer off and finishes his hair while you start your makeup routine. After finishing his hair and brushing his teeth he stands beside you, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You see from your peripheral vision his mouth open and close a few times, his eyes are soft and full of concern. You can tell he is struggling but he finally walks out of the room with a soft huff.

“Can you zip me?” you ask holding your heels in your hand.

Fred turns to see you next to him, so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t hear you walking towards him. His eyes run up and down your body taking you in. You hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t make out what he is saying, but given that his eyes haven’t left your body you imagine good things.

You opted for your favourite little black dress. The fabric around your waist clings to you showing off your figure, the hem likely being a few inches too short elongates your legs. And if the dress didn’t show off your ass, the bright red heels will help it pop.

He stands up brushing your hair to the side to expose your back. He slowly zips you up, tightening the fabric as he goes. You can hear his breath catch in his throat as the zipper reaches the top. You hold your hand out, passing him your white gold necklace that has two initials hanging from it. An F for Fred and your initial resting just above your chest line.

He fumbles a little bit, eventually getting the clasp to fasten around your neck. His hands move to your shoulders, resting there while you stand in silence. You feel his breath on the exposed skin of your neck, goosebumps running down your spine; this outfit having the impact you wanted.

You put your heels on, helping to close the height difference between the two of you and pull your coat over your shoulder waiting for him. He stops in front of you, narrowing his eyes staring down at your face. He gathers his belongings but before he reaches for the door he walks up in front of you leaning down for a kiss. You quickly turn your cheek “lipstick babe” you whisper.

His grip on your shoulders tighten and you can feel the cool metal from his chain on your collarbone. Before he has the chance to do anything you step towards the door “we should get going or we’ll be late” you call over your shoulder. You have a giant smirk plastered on your face walking away but you don't dare let him see. When you finally reach the door you drop it replacing it with a neutral expression when you look at him. He scowls slightly before sighing and following you to the door.

“Wow you weren’t messing around when you got dressed tonight” Steph laughs hugging you. You place a soft kiss on her cheek laughing and moving on to greet the other women “yeah I was just in a mood” you explain laughing.

“You’re the worst” he groans opening the door. But really you know you haven't had the full impact you planned on tonight.

“Wish I had of known I would have changed my outfit” Audrey says while you hug her. Upon walking in the door you left Fred and found the women, you glance around the bar seeing the group of men tucked away in the booths in the back corner. You see Fred who is sitting at the end of the table, his long sleeve clinging tightly to his broad shoulder.

While you chat with some of the women you constantly feel Fred’s eyes locked on you, watching your every move over the rim of his glass. After a few drinks you, Steph and Audrey make your way to the dance floor, the remainder returning to the table.

You dance and laugh, belting out parts of the lyrics. You peer over at Fred periodically and rarely see him engaged in conversation, most of the time his eyes follow you. While dancing you see a brunette man around your age leaning against the bar watching you dance. You shoot him a smile continuing to dance with the girls.

As the song ends you all decide to take a break from dancing, the other two return to the table but you walk over to the bar, standing at the end closest to Fred. The man from earlier watches you while you wait for the bartender, busy filling the other drink orders. You glance at him from the corner of your eye before turning back to look at the bar.

You watch him take you in, eyes lingering on your chest the thin straps and cut of the neck showing off your chest. It's almost reminiscent of the way Fred looked at you the night you met, years ago.

You direct your attention to him sending seductive glances his way, even going as far to wink at him. He smiles at you; raising his glass to you and taking a sip. You turn your attention quickly to Fred, him staring daggers towards the stranger. You can sense the anger, and can almost see the vein in his neck from afar; he brings his glass to his lips throwing back his entire whiskey in one quick swoop.

You see him leave his post making his way towards you. He stops a few feet from you and you turn to look at him, elbow resting on the bar but still able to see Fred from the corner of your eye. He is tall, not as tall as Fred but who else is? He has dark hair similar in length to Fred’s brushed to the side. You can tell from his physique that he frequents the gym, but he pales in comparison to your Danish boyfriend.

“Hi I’m Josh” he says holding a hand out for you.

“Hi I’m (Y/N)” you reply shaking his hand.

“That’s a pretty name” he replies stepping closer. You look up at his face seeing his dark green eyes staring down at you.

“Thanks” you smile glancing over your shoulder to see Fred’s anger almost boiling over.

“You look stunning” he yells over the music.

“You look good too” you reply. He has on a button up white t-shirt tucked into his pink skinny jeans. His shirt so tight his biceps look one movement away from tearing it off. He has it paired with brown loafers and matching belt. While he does look good, his outfit couldn’t be further from your boyfriend who is wearing dark washed jeans with a tight grey long sleeve. Both men look good, but you prefer the simplicity of your boyfriend’s style. He always said he didn’t need to sparkle and shine with his outfits because you brought enough for the both of you.

You continue to chat with Josh for a little bit, laughing at his jokes even going as far to put your hand on his arm which may have been one step too far. At this point you can feel more than Fred’s eyes on you, some of the players and WAG’s noticing. Steph walks by shooting you a concerned look given you haven’t spent any time with him, but you know exactly what you’re doing. Better yet Fred knows what you’re doing.

“Can you excuse me? I have to run to the washroom” you say shooting him a smile and grabbing your clutch. You turn around locking eyes with Fred; his eyes narrow while he finishes his 5th whiskey, or was it 6th? You turn your gaze in front of you, smirking at Fred from the corner of your eye while you walk by.

You enter the bathroom and reapply some lipstick fluffing your hair. You stand at the counter for a few minutes wasting some more time, before finally leaving. As soon as you open the door you feel a large hand wrap around your wrist pulling you into the men’s room. He presses you against the door, knees spreading your legs open.

“Hi Fred” you whisper looking into his eyes, pupils blown with anger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he chews out, words like venom.

“I was just going to the washroom” you respond knowing that wasn’t what he was talking about.

“Where’s your friend?” he asks thumbs digging into your hip holding you in place.

“Hmm…oh Josh. The bar I think” you say dumbly not breaking eye contact.

“Josh know you have a boyfriend? He know I’m taking you home tonight” he asks face inches from yours. “He know you’re mine?”

“No. Didn’t come up” you respond shrugging at him

His hand traces lines up your exposed thigh, causing you to practically drip through your underwear. Fred’s hand leaves your thigh and you hear him unbuckle his belt. He grabs your wrist leading you into a stall slamming the door shut behind him.

“Guess we better make sure he knows your mine” he growls undoing his pants and boxers, they drop down his legs hanging on his thighs. His hard cock slaps back against his stomach. You reach down to the hem of your dress, going to pull it up to your waist.

You pull your head back stroking it with your hand, eyes glued on Fred. He grips your wrist, pulling your hand away from him. He throws your arm at your side; his thumb touches your chin opening your jaw for him.

“No” he growls eyes nodding to the ground, his hands guiding you towards the floor. You rest your knees on the sticky cool tile floor licking your lips, staring at the pre-cum that has oozed out of the tip. You grip it with your hand, sliding your tongue along his vein. When you reach the tip you wrap your lips around it licking it clean moaning as the salty flavor fills your mouth.

You choke slightly and Fred smirks at you from above. “Such a little slut” he spews “trying to make me jealous huh?”

He chuckles from above you, nudging his hip forward guiding his cock into your mouth. He releases your jaw, hand sliding around to grip your hair holding you in place. He begins to rock his hip, dick sliding in and out of your mouth. He sets a fast pace, not allowing you much time to adjust, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust.

You hum around him while he continues to fuck your face. Spit is dribbling down your chin onto the fabric of your dress. Your vision getting blurred, tears developing in the corner of your eyes, your body tingles while he doesn’t stop. You hear the door open, your eyes go wide. You know they know what is happening; the number of legs and positions leaving little to the imagination.

You hear some chuckling and hushed whispers but Fred doesn’t stop just continuing his pace. You stare up at him wide eyed and he smirks, ramming his dick down your throat causing you to choke. You can tell he is close by the expression on his face but he doesn’t stop. You continue to hear whispering and laughing. You are unable to control or focus on the sounds leaving your mouth let alone those leaving strangers.

Fred pistons his hips while you hear the music from the bar get loud. The music gets quiet as the door closes, the other men leaving.

“Like that eh, people knowing what a slut you are” he groans. You hum in agreeance and feel his dick twitch spilling inside your throat. He releases your hair and thrusts a couple times before pulling out causing some to spill down your chin.

He helps you to your feet and you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand. He pulls his pants back up his large thighs re-attaching his belt. He steps forward, hands sliding to your ass gripping it firmly, lips crashing into yours. He locks you in a passionate kiss, pressing you against the wall of the stall for a few minutes.

When he pulls away he reaches behind unlocking the stall door, letting you out first. As you walk by he slaps your ass making you jump. You walk to the sink washing your hands and trying to repair your smeared mascara when you notice something in the mirror. You turn your head and realize some of his cum fell from your chin your hair and the fabric covering your breast.

“Fuck Fred” you groan grabbing some paper towel in an attempt to clean it but he just smirks at you.

“Told you I was going to make sure he knew you were mine” he says smiling.

“This dress can’t be washed” you grumble.

“Here” he says taking the paper towel from you. Instead of wetting it first he brings it directly to the fabric. He collects most of it, but some is smeared leaving a white mark where the globs fell.

“Freddie” you whine and he just laughs. You have a feeling he did this on purpose, marking his territory.

“Relax I’ll send it to the cleaners with my suits tomorrow” he replies with a devilish grin. You exhale loudly shaking your head at him.

“What?” he asks, edges of his lip curled up proud of himself.

“You did this on purpose” you reply wetting some paper towel in an attempt to clean the fabric.

“Why would I do that?” he asks and you scoff in response.

“So when I go back to talk to Josh he will see that and your smug look and know what happened” you retort.

“Oh you’re going to talk to him again?” he asks calmly, adjusting his hair in the mirror.

“Thinking about it. Why, you have a problem with that?” you ask giving up on your dress moving to your hair.

“Just thought you might want to spend some time with your boyfriend, you know the man you came with” he responds focusing his gaze on you.

“You jealous babe?” you ask reapplying lipstick, all of it now smeared on Freddie’s dick. He steps up behind you, turning you to face him. His hands firmly grip the counter on either side of you, his face coming within centimeters of yours.

He rolls his eyes at you, not giving you a response “you are jealous aren’t you. Jealous that I spent the first hour on the dance floor not looking at you once. Then I walked away and started up a conversation with a pleasant man who wasn’t you. A very attractive man at that. Are you thinking about Josh talking to me babe?” you tease his face so close you can smell the whiskey on him. “Thinking about Josh’s eyes raking over my body while he tries to imagine me naked. While he imagines kissing me, sucking marks on my neck.”

You can tell you have struck a nerve with him, his eyes becoming dark. He bends a knee, raising a thigh between your legs; you feel his denim press into your clothed core. You’re so wet you wouldn’t be surprised if there was a wet spot when he pulled away.

You bring your lips to his ear “Josh….Josh” you whisper into his ear. “He definitely is thinking about –“

“You know babe, he reminds me of you, or at least of that night we met. You couldnt stop staring, and once you finally joined me on the dance floor you couldn't keep your hands off.

You know Josh is probably thinking about what it will feel like to have my lips wrapped around his dick” you say causing Fred to shutter at the thought. “What it will be like to push his hard cock deep inside me. What it will sounds like when I moan his name.”

“Fine, I’m jealous” he huffs throwing his hands in the air. “You make those sounds for me, you say my name. No one else”

You smirk at him taking a few steps closer to him taking in his brown pupils “what are you gonna do about it Freddie?” you ask.

His eyes narrow while he looks down at you “coat now” he orders opening the door.

You smile at him, raising your eyebrows walking out the door. He grabs your hand pulling you by the table towards the coats. You look over at Auston who just shakes his head at you, while Mitch laughs watching you practically run to match his large strides.

Once outside he grabs the back of your neck, ducking you into a taxi. You slide in pressing yourself up against the door, Fred sliding in right beside you. His hand firmly grips your upper thigh the entire drive, his thumb stroking under the hem of your dress. He smirks feeling the damp fabric covering your core.

His hand slides further, stroking over the lace sending a shiver through your spine. He pushes this to the side, his index finger harshly thrusting into your folds. You moan at the unexpected feeling, the taxi driver looking in the review to check on you. You bite your bottom lip when you feel his thumb press into your bud.

You swallow, digging your hand into your thigh so tight you think you might be drawing blood. Every move of his fingers is calculated, coinciding with the words leaving his mouth. He slides a second finger in and you whimper at the feeling thumb pressing into your swollen bud. You can feel your orgasm beginning to develop at the moment he increases the pace of his fingers causing you to gasp and squirm.

Looking out the window, unable to handle the feeling and his smug glances. He makes casual conversation with the driver about the team and progress for the season, having immediately recognizing him. His finger slowly pumps in and out of you; he is so nonchalant it’s almost as if he doesn’t know what he is doing to you.

Except he does.

“You okay?” the driver asks.

Five blocks you think to yourself.

“Yeah she isn’t feeling that great, had some bad food at dinner” Fred lies through his teeth. Although the driver doesn’t seem too concerned about his response, resuming the conversation with Fred.

You know Fred can feel your orgasm developing but he keeps going, your back involuntarily arches towards his hand searching for a release. Your hand falls onto his jeans tightly gripping his thigh through the denim.

Your orgasm continues to bubble, every stroke causing you to grip his thigh firmer, you almost lift out of your seat trying to contain your release. Before you can tumble over the cliff the taxi stops in front of your building and you feel Fred lift up, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

His fingers slide out of your dripping cunt, to open his wallet and you sigh. You jump out of the taxi not waiting for Fred and run towards the door. Your steps are no match for your giant boyfriend who quickly catches you in the lobby.

As soon as the elevator door closes Fred returns his attention to you, his tongue licking up from the valley of your breasts to the sweet spot below your ear. His hands gripping your thighs holding you against the cool wall while he nips along your neck.

“Freddie” you moan, he rubs his fingers over your clothed core sliding them back inside you. Your head falls back against the wall, palms pressing into it for stability. His fingers fuck in and out of you, quickly bringing you back to your high.

“My name is the only name to fall from those pretty lips. Mine” he growls you grind your hips against him in response. Your orgasm is right on the edge, when he brings his other hand to pull the fabric covering your nipple down. He pinches and squeezes in combination with his thumb pressing against your sensitive bud.

“Cum for me” he almost demands knowing you are there. Your eyes close and you clench around his digits, body struggling to stand as you tremble in pleasure. He pumps his fingers in you a few more times working you through your high as your body threatens to fall over while pleasure runs through you.

Suddenly the door dings and Fred steps towards them wiping his hands on his jeans. He steps into the doorway, holding it open with his hands waiting for you but you remain frozen taking a few deep breaths.

“Coming smuk?” he asks nonchalantly your eyes snapping to meet his.

“Need a minute” you whisper warm cum dripping down your thigh.

He chuckles at your response and takes a step toward you. He quickly throws you over his shoulder “nope, no time” he laughs a soft squeal leaving your lips. He carries you down the hall hands resting on your ass holding you steady. He reaches into his pocket for his keys, fumbling through them until landing on the key to your condo.

He opens the door, keys jangling against the wood of the floor. He kicks the door closed with the heel of his shoe quickly making his way down the hall. The sole of his shoes echo off the hardwood, when he enters the bedroom he turns the light on setting you on the floor.

His mouth attaches to your neck, hand tracing over your arm sending shivers coursing through your body. You grip his waist moaning while he nips at your ear. Your hand slides under his shirt, feeling his warm skin and the curve of his back muscles.

You pull is shirt over his head tossing it to the side. Fred spins you around sucking, pushing your hair off your neck. His body presses up behind you mouth biting your collarbone. His hands run over the front of your body, pulling the straps off your shoulders. He unzips your dress allowing it fall into a pile at your feet.

You take a few steps toward the bed; his hand catches your wrist, spinning you back to face him. Your bodies a few inches from each other. He looks over your matching strapless bra and underwear “this is nice” he says lingering on the black lace floral cut-out.

“Thought of you when I bought it” you smirk at him.

He smiles hearing you say that “better be the only person you were thinking of.”

You roll your eyes at him shaking your head. He undoes his belt removing it from his waist, the metal from the buckle clanging off the floor. He leads you to the bed, pushing you onto it when the back of your legs hit the mattress.

Your legs hang off the edge of the bed while he drops to his knees. He pulls you closer to him, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He places soft kisses on the inside if your thighs a soft moan escapes your lips.

He flattens his tongue pressing it against your clothed core, pressing inside you whimpers falling from your mouth. He continues to flick his tongue through the fabric and your head falls back into the mattress. Your eyes close when you hear the fabric being torn from you.

“Frederik” you huff pushing yourself onto your elbows. His head pops up a devilish smirk plastered on his face.

“Was in the way” he jokes throwing the shredded lace aside.

You shake your head at him but he just ducks back between your legs mumbling in Danish. His tongue licks up your folds, cleaning you from your last orgasm. Your head falls back onto the mattress, his tongue flicking your clit.

His tongue slides inside your folds licking inside your walls. He continues this while your legs begin to squirm, back arching off the mattress. He throws an arm over your stomach pinning you against the mattress. Each flick of his tongue finding your most sensitive spot, the fire in your stomach burning hot.

He sucks on your clit, his beard rubbing against your thighs. Your hands run into his hair gripping tightly at his roots tilting his head against you. His tongue hits deep inside you, your legs clamp around his head holding him against your pussy.

“Freddie” you moan hips lifting up closer to his face. “I’m so close” you whine grinding down against his face.

Soft moans leave your lips, but he presses his tongue in further. He brings a thumb to your bud pressing hard into it. You feel his nose pressing deeper into you, beard burn developing on your thighs. Your orgasm is developing in the bottom of your stomach, your heels digging into his back drawing him closer to you.

He brings two fingers down scissoring you open allowing his tongue to reach further depths. You gasp at the feeling practically pulling his red locks from his head. Your hips jolt forward, body trembling you scream out in pleasure. You feel your walls spasm around him, body shaking your breathing erratic.

Fred continues flicking his tongue is and out, continuing to work you through your thigh. His tongue places a few slow licks inside your walls, a state of euphoria washing over you. After you finish he stops his tongue, pulling away from you.

He drops your legs crawling up your body, his hands tangle into your hair. You see your juices dripping from his face while he brings you in for a deep passionate kiss, you moan tasting yourself on him. Your tongues swirl around each other mouths, your chest still heaves, out of breath. Your hands gently run up his back, you finally pull apart gasping for air.

Fred stands up pulling his pants and boxers down in one swoop, your eyes falling down his sweaty chest to his hard member, precum leaking down it. “Flip” he demands.

You force yourself over crawling onto your hands and knees. Your limbs still trembling you are unsure if you can support yourself. His hands grip your hips, pulling your body back to the edge of the bed. You feel his cock poking at your entrance, coating it in your juices slowly. Without warning he rams into you, pushing your body forward.

“Fuck” you cry out.

Your cheek falls onto the mattress, ass sticking up in the air. He pulls out and slams back into you. A loud guttural moan escaping your lips, even after all this time his size always takes your breath away. Normally he allows time for you to adjust, gives you walls a chance to stretch around him. Not this time.

He fucks in and out of you dragging his thick cock along your walls; he brings a hand from your hip and slaps your ass. You yelp, your ass burns while your face falls further into the duvet.

“Deserve more for trying to make me jealous” he spits out slapping your ass again hitting the same spot as before. You wince at the pain knowing you are going to bruise feeling his hand connect with you once again.

“Fuck” you groan. His hand returns to your hips firmly pulling you back against him. Your ass hitting his stomach, you feel him hitting your cervix with every thrust. You whine out, pleasure overcoming your body while you feel your third orgasm approaching.

Strangled groans leave your lips while Fred thrusts in and out of you. His pace is fast, each thrust purposeful hitting you where you need him. He knows where your trigger points are, what is needed to send you falling over the edge.

His hand soothes over the mark on your ass as you rock your hips back onto him. Your hands reach out in front of you grasping the duvet when you feel him slap your ass again. You mumble his name, face turning into the mattress. You feel the soft cotton against your forehead “cum for me baby” Fred growls behind you slapping you again.

You cry out, your muscles tightening around his dick. He thrusts a few more times sending your body falling over a cliff into a pile of ecstasy. You feel your muscles relax, releasing around him as you spill out around him. You lose control, your vision going black moaning loud enough the Miller’s next door will for sure complain.

You feel him slip out releasing your hips from his grasp. You feel your release dripping down your thighs while you fall onto the bed. You lie on your stomach panting; attempting to capture your breath. You feel him grip your ankles and flip you over onto your back. His eyes are dark but he grins seeing you absolutely wrecked beneath him.

He nods and you slide up the bed making more room for him. He climbs on top of you wrapping hands through your hair bringing his lips down to yours. He brings you in for a deep sloppy kiss, tongues swirling around in each other.

You gasp and arch your back feeling Fred slide back in between your sensitive folds. You take a few deep breaths while Fred hooks your leg around his back and starts to slowly rock into you. Curse words leave your lips; one of your hands reaches to the hair at the nape of his neck but your fingers end up tangled in his chain.

He runs his hand up the back of your thigh, gently stroking up to your ass and back to you knee. His dick slides in and out of you “fuck baby” you mumble.

“Don’t baby me after that stunt you pulled earlier” he growls in your ear ramming deep inside you. You whimper from the sensitivity of your previous orgasms, head falling back into the duvet. Fred uses that to bring his lips to your neck biting the exposed flesh.

Your pelvis lifts higher, his hand gripping your ass pulling you against him. Your pussy squeezes around his throbbing cock. Your other hand falls onto the bed clenching the sheet while he pistons in and out. Placing kisses on your neck and collarbone his hand squeezes your ass pulling you up into him.

You feel him stutter indicating he is close. His mouth trails down the valley of your breasts soft kisses being left in his wake. His mouth attaches to your breast, swirling around the areola your knuckle white gripping the sheets so tight.

You feel the tingling in your core, an explosion waiting to erupt from you. You’re a mess underneath him, mascara stains your cheeks while his cum has dried in your hair. You feel another orgasm approaching unsure if your body can handle it but Fred knows the signs as soon as you do.

“Freddie” you groan.

“What do you want?” he groans pulling his head away from your breast “what do you need?”

“Cum for me” you whine wanting to finish with him.

“Is that what you want? You want me to cum inside you eh? Fill that pretty little pussy up with my cum” he says while his cock slides in and out at a fast pace.

“Fuck Freddie” you whine hand sliding down his back slick with sweat “I need it so bad.”

He smirks staring down at you ramming deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He keeps his pace, dragging his cock inside your walls

“You want me to spill deep inside of you, filling you with my seed? I’ll put a baby in you, little baby Andersen.” He brings a thumb down to press circles into your swollen bud causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. You fall over the edge for the fourth time unable to wait for him.

He finally stills collapsing on you, you feel the sweat that has been developing on your bodies as you press together.

“You’d like that eh my baby growing in your belly" he groans continuing his pace waiting for you to finish. Your orgasm is incredibly intense having so much stimulation before.

"Everybody would know you're mine if you were big and round, full of my growing seed" he grunts driving into you. Your walls flutter around him, pulling him inside you. A few more thrusts and you feel him twitch spilling deep inside you.

“Fuck” you laugh running your hand down his back, his head resting on your shoulder. After a few minutes he pulls out, you wince not fully recovered from the earlier activities. He rolls off you onto his back, his warm cum spilling out and down your leg.

“That was" he pants out of breath, turning to look at you with a huge smile.

“I know" you agree rolling to your side, hand resting on his chest.

“Are you still on birth control?” he asks.

You shake your head slightly laughing in response “yes I am.”

“Okay cause I know what I said, but I don’t think I’m there yet” he replies kissing your forehead. “Like if you get pregnant that would be great but I would prefer to not have a baby in 9 months" he laughs.

“You enjoy the process of making babies without actually making the babies" you respond smiling.

“Yeah exactly” he says and you lean forward to kiss him tasting his salty sweat that has collected on his upper lip.

“Good because I enjoy practicing to make them too” you say with your hand running through his beard.

“I’d rather Mrs. Andersen come before baby Andersen” he says the edge of his lips curling into a smile.

“But I think I want to practice making one more” he says pulling you on top of him. You laugh feeling his half hard member under your core, his cum dripping out while your rock your hips against him grinding down on him.

You feel him fully harden underneath you and you rise up. He easily slides into you, the mixture of juices providing the lubrication as he bottoms out. You gasp, your head falling back, hands resting on his abs.

“You good?” he asks, but instead of concern he has a devilish grin on his face.

You rise up and drop back down on him “fuck” you moan “you’re going to be the death of me Andersen” you joke rising up again, exhausted whimpers of pleasure leaving your lips.

“Death by orgasm seems like a nice way to go” he laughs pushing his hips up into you. He rises onto his forearms, tangling his hands in your hair pulling your mouth down to his. He sucks hard on your bottom lip “ready babygirl, I want to hear you scream this time" he grins lying back in the mattress.

[forlornmelody]

The Fantabulous Vacation of One Harley Quinn and Her Girlfriend Poison Ivy

Rating: T (suggestive themes, cartoon violence)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   Harley's been burning the wick at both ends and Ivy knows just the thing to help. But it takes more than just a change of scenery to get Harley to let go.

Note:  Commission for @rookie009

~*~*~*

“You’re probably wondering Mr---Watchman--”

“Tockman.” Mr. Watchman spits. “William Tockman.”

“Why I’ve brought you here today.”

Mr. Watchman rolls his eyes. “I imagine you’re going to tell me.” 

“Ah! Good. You’ve stopped struggling. Progress, Mister!” Harley boops him on the nose. Maybe she made the binding too tight? “I’m not cutting off your circulation, am I?” She leans in close. “Are you comfortable? I need you comfortable.” 

“I’m tied up in ropes, wench!”

“Ah, see! This is what I’m talking about!” Harley sits across from him and his fainting couch, pulling her pen from her bun and making a heading on her notepad. “You have a whore madonna complex.” Chewing her pen, she murmurs, “perhaps from the trauma of your wife’s death? Cystic Fibrosis, was it?”

Her new patient says nothing. “Mister?” Harley glances up. “Willy?”

“Help!” William Tockman dangles from his left ankle, suspended in air by a beefy vine.  “She’s gonna kill me!” 

“Oh please. You’re hardly worth the trouble.” Ivy steps around him and the vine, brushing the dust off her hands. “Hi Harls!” How she got the vines up this far on this abandoned apartment building, Harley has no idea. But it sure has a lot of brick to climb. 

“Ivy!” Harley doesn’t so much as hug her as ram her at full speed. 

Her target, used to such behavior by now, braces for impact and manages to hug back. Harley takes a big whiff. “Mm. Jasmine?”

“Lilacs.” Ivy peers over at Clock King. “You...uh, busy?”

“Mm yeah. A little tied up at the moment. Or he is, at least.”

“So I see.” Ivy chews her lip, staring out the window as if she had left a reminder there. She makes a face as the draft stirs some of the painting tarp discarded on the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could get out of town for a bit.”

“HELP.” 

“Are you asking for help, Billy? Or do you prefer Willy?”

“HELP ME! THESE WOMEN ARE CRAZY.” 

“Great!” Harley says brightly. “Admitting you need help is the first step towards healing!”

“Harls? Are you even listening?”

“You need help dismantling another CEO along with his company?”

“No.”

“Fundraiser for conservation efforts?”

“Harley--”

“Pride pre-game with Kitty?”

“Harleen.” That stops Harley short. Ivy never calls her that. Mostly cause she hates getting called Pamela with an undying passion. Probably childhood trauma. But Harley digresses. 

Ivy sighs. “Sorry. Look. I need a vacation. We need a vacation.”

“I need help!” 

“SHUT UP ALREADY.” Ivy and Harley say it together, and Ivy waves a hand, muffling Harley’s captive, er, patient with a particularly broad leaf. 

“Mm... I’m a little busy--”

Ivy glances at Tockman, finally. “I can see that.”

“Lemme look at my calendar. Mmm.. maybe...next year? Definitely the one after that.”

“Harls.”

“I know, I know. But there’s my derby team, missions with Task Force X, the Birds of Prey, my day job--”

“I know.” Ivy takes her hands, gently, and squeezes them. It’s the softness that stops Harley in her tracks. “It’s why you need some time off.”

“But--”

“Shh. I already have plane tickets and a hotel booked. You don’t have to plan a thing.”

Harley can’t help the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “Aww, shucks, Ives. When are we leaving?”

“Now. The plane’s departing in--shit. We gotta go.”

“MMRPH.” 

“Oh, right.” Ivy releases Clock King with a patented thud as she shoves Harley out the door. “Bye!”

-----

“So, we’re we goin’?” Harley pushes the arm rest out of the way and rests her chin on Ivy’s shoulder. She glances at Ivy’s phone as if it’ll give her some clues. She spots a sudoku puzzle. “Japan?”

“No.”

“The Amazon?”

“Nope.”

“Themyscyra?” 

Ivy gives her a look. “Really?”

“Er….my mom’s? Please say it’s not my mom’s.”

“It’s not your mom’s.”

“Thank God.”

“Also, why would we fly to your mom’s house when we could easily drive? Or take a commuter bus?”

“Good point. Mm.”

Ivy smooths Harley’s hair out of her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She snatches a quick kiss before the flight attendant rolls by. “You’ll love it.”

In this moment, Harley’s pretty sure she’d love anywhere as long Ivy’s there with her. She’s lit up by the light of the tiny window behind her, and her crimson locks glow like an angel’s. But Harley knows well enough that neither of them are anywhere close to innocent. “Say, how’d you get us past security?”

Ivy winks at her. 

“No casualties?”

Her lover mockingly brushes her own chest like a scandalized church mouse. “I would never!” she snorts. “They’ll be fine. Just a little dazed and confused.”

Harley leans her head on Ivy’s shoulder. “I know the feelin’.” And really! Harley’s proud of her. Ivy’s never been one to follow rules or care for humans. But she tries for Harley. Why she bothers when Mistah J never seemed to care, Harley has no idea. But it means the world to her. 

-----

The taxi drops them off in front of a large revolving door. But it’s not the gold handles that capture Harley’s attention. 

It’s the lush plants growing from every nook and cranny on the place. Harley bets Ivy could spend an hour naming all of them (scientific names and personal names.) Butterflies and hummingbirds in every color of the rainbow--and the faint buzzing of bees. A solitary stream crosses their path, and a wooden bridge stretches over it. Garden terrace after garden terrace rise up from the ground to an open-air cafe at the top. 

And behind the walls and the hotel proper? A waterpark. 

Harley’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Ivy! You shouldn’t have!” She squeezes her into a hug.

“Thanks, sweet pea, but I can’t breathe.” Ivy manages to get out.

“Oof, sorry. Here ya go.” Harley releases her, and Ivy pecks her on the cheek. 

“Best part is, they’ve a zero-carbon footprint and they’re waste free.” Harley rarely sees her grin so wide.” 

“Whoa.”

“They call it The Greenhouse.”

-----

Their first day at the resort passes in a blur. Harley shows Ivy a good time in and out of their bedroom. They go snorkeling in the ocean, ride the rides so many times Harley ends up upchucking their picnic at the beach, then make love at sunset in their honeymoon suite. Harley wonders if the management thinks they’re--well, they’re as good as, aren’t they? They don’t need rings or a wedding or a place of their own or--

“Harley?”

She blinks. Ivy only calls her that when she’s worried. Harley realizes she’s been staring at the chocolates on their pillows for God knows how long. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Of course!” she says automatically, pulling Ivy into another kiss.

Ivy kisses back, then runs a finger down her cheek. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” The setting sun makes her hair even redder, which Harley didn��t think possible, and Harley finds herself toying with her curls. 

“Hey, I’ve been wonderin’.”

If Ivy notices the change in subject, she doesn’t mention it. “Yeah?”

“How come we haven’t seen any other guests? And how come we haven’t been arrested?”

“Oh! That.” Ivy waves a hand dismissively. “I rented out the whole resort.”

“With what money??”

Ivy shoots her a wicked look that sends shivers down Harley’s spine. “Ace Chemical’s investment fund.”

“Ooooh, you’re naughty.” 

Harley dives in for another kiss but Ivy puts a finger to her lips. And doesn’t let her suck on it. Rude. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Since we’ve got all this extra cash, wanna make a run at the casino? I hear they donate the proceeds to rainforest restoration.”

“Alright.” Ivy sighs and reaches for her dress. Harley has a sinking feeling that she’s going to bring this up later. Maybe if Harley’s lucky she’ll forget about it? Yeah. Ivy forgets things all the time. 

“Last one there buys the first round!”

-----

Ivy and Harley sit across from each other, an immaculate brunch setting between them and two mimosas. Her lover’s plate sits almost empty, and while Harley’s lies largely untouched. She keeps playing with her veggie egg white omelet, but the next bite never seems to make it to her mouth. “And then we can go for a walk on the beach later! Have you seen those beds? Right there on the water? Mm. Do you think anyone would hear us if we--”

“Harley, wait.”

“Like, the sound of the waves would cover it up, right? Mm. Maybe not. I’m loud. Not as loud as--”

“Harley, no. Stop. Stop.” Ivy presses her hands on either side of Harley’s face, drawing her to a standstill and inches away from her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!”

Ivy gives her a sad smile, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to impress me, Harls. I love you.”

Harley, in typical Harley fashion, vibrates with energy. “But…I want this to be special. As special as y--”

“This vacation already is special. Cause you’re here with me.”

“But--” I’m not that special, Harley wants to say. But she knows Ivy won’t let her get away with saying that out loud. She wants to crawl underneath the tablecloth and hide until Ivy leaves. They always leave in the end. Once they get what they want. Mistah J--

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” Ivy takes her hand, gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe. Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know what to do if Ivy stays. It’s easier to love someone who doesn’t love her back. It’s safe. Ahem. Emotionally safe, Dr. Quinzel says inside her head. For once, Harley has nothing to say. She’s too busy trying to keep the tears from falling. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I already love you.” Ivy bites her lip--the way she always does when she’s thinking hard. Like how best to resurrect a drooping petunia or a rose bush that has a pest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “And if it’s not too much--too early--to say this: I always will.” 

“You proposin’ or somethin’?” The words tumble out of Harley’s mouth before she can stop them. Her cheeks feel like they’re blushing as bright as Ivy’s hair. 

“I…” Ivy’s eyes widen. “I-I don’t have a ring on me.”

Shit. Fuck. ShitshitshitFuuuuuuuuuck. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeanit.” “It’s way too soon.” Harley puts on her best brave face--the same one she always put on when Bats showed up and Mistah J magically was nowhere to be found. “Marriage is so outda--”

“Harley.” Ivy puts her entire hand over her face. “Quinn.” “I never said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Mmphwr?” 

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Harley Quinn? You’re amazing.” She traces her eyebrows. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Boops her nose. “You’re impossible to kill. Holy fuck.” Runs her fingertip across her bottom lip. “You…” Ivy presses her lips together, looking down at the table. “You helped me love again when I hated everyone.”

“Pam.” Fuck, she’s getting misty eyed. 

“I mean it. I was ready to wipe humanity off the map and start over.” She laughs a little, her voice rough as she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “But then you came along and nominated yourself my new shrink.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Wow, okay. Maybe she’s more than just misty-eyed. “You saved me too. From Mistah Jay. From Bats. From what woulda been a really boring life.”

Ivy’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you Harls?”

Harley squeezes her hand. “Nah. You’re stuck with me.” Her words come out a little thick. “For richer or poorer.” 

Her lover leans in close, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “That’s usually pretty literal for you.”

“HEY.” 

“It’s true! Guess I’ll have to see if Ace or maybe Lexcorp has any funds they won’t miss. I need to get that ring soon. Garnet? Spinel maybe?”

“Aww, shucks. How am I gonna be surprised now?”

Ivy scoffs. “If it’s a real surprise, it’s not a good time for a proposal.”

“But what if I want to be like those girls in those Tik Toks? Like where you propose to me but like I got my own box in my pocket?”

“Harley. A ring box wouldn’t fit in your tiny ass pockets, and you know it.”

“You know what would fit in my shorts?”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel.” Her laughter dissolves in a kiss and Harley pulls her back to their suite. They got a lot of planning to do. Though Harley has a pretty good feeling they’re not gonna get a whole lot of planning done today. But Harley’s okay with that. Pam’s always been the top of her to-do list anyway.

[dissident-vedder]

- the christmas miracle ( 𝐒.𝐆. )

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST!

character a vows to do something nice for a stranger during christmas time. character b is that stranger.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!  prompt by @fanficy-prompts​

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

tears pricked at the back of your eyes. here you were, two weeks away from christmas, and still no presents, no decorations, and very little food to even last this week. nina, your six-year-old daughter, kept asking about why christmas hasn’t come yet to your house, but how were you gonna tell her that you were struggling to buy food alone? it seemed like everyone in your apartment building knew of your financial status. they eyed you sadly as you walked down the hallways, making your way to work your one of two jobs, dark undereye bags staining the once skin-toned flesh, nina constantly wondering why you were working and no longer spending time with her as much as you used to. 

“i’m here to pick up nina,” you told him. “i’m her mom, mrs. gossard takes care of her in the afternoons.” 

“oh!” he smiles at you, “you’re ms. [y/l/n], right?”

“yes, i am!” you smile back. 

“come in, she got tired and is taking a nap in the living room,” he opens the door, stepping aside to let you walk in, taking in the pastel pink walls and white wicker furniture. “i’m stone, by the way. i’m mary’s son.”

“you’re the one she always talks about!” you brightly smile at him, causing him to blush lightly, sheepishly bowing his head. “she’s really proud of you, you know.” 

“she’s always like that with her children,” stone laughs lightly, scratching the back of his neck. the pale color of his skin complimented his eyes, making them appear brighter in the white light of his mother’s living room. 

“mama?” nina’s soft voice called from the couch. her small fist rubbed roughly against her eyelids, rubbing the sleep out of them as she pushed her upper body up to a sitting position. “hi,” you replied tenderly, making your way to her, her arms stretching out to allow you to pick her up easily. she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist, burying her head into the side of your neck, sighing gingerly, taking in the scent of the perfume you always wore. you turned back to stone, “is your mom home?” you pulled a small wad of money from your pocket, wanting to pay her for taking care of nina for however long she has been taking care of her for. “i’d like to give her this.” you pushed it towards stone, who gently put his hand over yours, pushing it back towards you.

“my mom won’t take your money,” he smiled delicately. “she understands, don’t worry about it.” 

“but -”

“no buts,” he shook his head, making his way into the kitchen, picking up the platter from the counter. “she also wanted me to give you this, if you came over while she was at her doctor’s appointment.” 

“thank you,” you freed one of your hands from nina, planning to take the glassware from him. 

“no,” he puts it back down on the counter again, hands outstretched to take nina. “i’ll help you take it home.” he smiles softly again. swapping nina for the pie plate, moving towards the door, eyeing nina as she rested her head on stone’s shoulder. her faint snores restarted, causing the man’s heart to slowly turn to mush as he rested his cheek on her head. your heart swelled, opening the door to his mom’s apartment. nina’s estranged father was never in the picture, and seeing a strange man cuddle her softly to his chest as he helped you really brought both sadness and want into your heart. 

you wanted nina to experience what having a father was like, but you barely had time for her, let alone another person. you walk to your apartment in silence, fearful that nina would wake up from her nap if you were too loud for her liking; she was always a light sleeper, something she gained from her dad, who was always sleeping with one eye open. you always wondered why, seeing that the neighborhood the two of you lived in was relatively safe.

most of seattle was. 

taking your key and unlocking your door, you lead stone to nina’s room, the princess themed bedspread thrown haphazardly across her bed, a few barbies and kens laying about the floor in front of her dresser. he gingerly placed her down, unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down her legs before moving the bedspread to cover her up to her chin. you smiled at the sight before going to the kitchen, placing down the pie plate on the counter next to your stove. the sound of heavy steps alerted you of his presence, “i have to go, it’s almost the end of my mom’s appointment and i had to drive her down there.” 

“alright,” you told him. “thank you for helping me with nina, i appreciate it.” 

“no problem, it was a nice break from the music business,” he beams, chuckling a little. “well, hopefully i’ll see you later!” he waves at you before walking away, opening the door to your apartment. 

“hopefully,” you hugged your arms around yourself. 

you had noticed a piece of paper on nina’s nighttable, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was stone’s phone number with a messily scrawled, “call me :).” 

you did, the next day, and since then the two of you spoke and laughed at his jokes, him telling you stories of his childhood, his adventures across the world, the stress of being in a famous band. you feared telling him of your financial struggles and the struggle of trying to make enough money to get nina some presents. however, what you did not know, was that mary had told him of your problems and his plan to help you out with it. 

it was the night of christmas eve, and nina had fallen asleep after throwing a small crying fit, wondering how 1. santa was going to be able to come to your home since it was in an apartment building (this was an ongoing thing for the past three years) and 2. why the christmas tree still wasn’t up. “he’s not going to come here if he can’t see the tree!” she cried, letting you hold her close, rubbing the back of her head as you calmed her down.

sitting in your living room with a book on your lap, your heart continued to beat wildly against your chest. you bought her very few things, most of which were small and it would make her a little disappointed, and at the same time break you heart as she would go back to school and talk about how the other kids got bigger and better things. 

a small knock on your door caused you to freeze, eyes wide as you thought of what could happen. a burglar waiting for you to be dumb and open the door? mary coming over to bring some food? all bad thoughts crossed your mind until you heard, “it’s stone!” coming from the outside.

what was stone doing here at. . . you glanced at the clock in the kitchen, 4 in the morning? you put down the book, upside down as to keep your spot, and made your way to the door, still confused at why he was here. you unlocked the door and when you saw the christmas tree box - amongst other things - sitting at his feet, you gasped. “what is this, stone?” 

“it’s for you and nina,” he smiled. “now, come on, it’s cold.” the two of you laughed, taking the time to pick up the boxes and transferring them into the warmth of your apartment, and as each box came in, you noticed that a few were already wrapped and ready to be placed under the christmas tree, one of which was wrapped in a different paper than the others. stone noticed you looking at it. “it’s for you.” 

it took the two of you half an hour to put up the tree and place the presents underneath, and once it was done, you were able to fall asleep peacefully, you and stone passing out on the cushions of your sofa. “mama!” nina’s cries pierced through the thick veils of sleep and woke you and stone up. “santa came!” you peered at her through your eyelashes, seeing her angelic face brighten up as she saw the many presents placed at the bottom of the lit tree. 

“open them,” you insisted, trying to sit up with some difficulty, soon noticing stone’s head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped lazily around your middle. you haven’t seen her this happy, you noted, hand making its way into stone’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. he hums softly, watching the girl tear through the first box, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips as she realizes it’s the victorian purple barbie house she’s been pestering you for months and something you complained to stone about. 

“nina,” you caught her attention, “can you give me that box, please? it has my name on it.” you caught the neatly scrawled [y/n] on the top. she snatches up from the floor, running over to you, placing it in your outstretched hand before going back to her own. “what is this, stone?”

“open it,” he nods to it. 

you tear the paper, letting the pieces drop to the floor, seeing a flat velvet box come into view. written on top of it was ‘gucci’. opening it, an aged gold butterfly necklace stares back at you from the confines of the white cardboard interior, and peaking from behind it, a gold-colored debit card sat. “it currently has a few thousand dollars in it,” stone informs you. “and it’s attached to my bank acount, as well, so now you and nina are dependents.”

“stone, i can’t take this,” you begin to protest.

“why not?” he picked himself up from your stomach, glacing at you from above. “it’s my money and i get to choose what i want to do with it. and i want to help you and nina. there’s only one condition.”

“and what’s that?”

taking a short glance towards your daughter, who was too busy tearing open the last few of her presents, he lowers himself against you, face turning towards yours before he presses his lips softly on yours. “just be my girlfriend. that’s all i ask.”

you nod. “always.”

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder @state-of-love-and-lust @honeysympathy

[floral-and-fine]

Endless Orange part 1

Fred Weasley x Fem reader

Summary: Feeling lonely, fate leads Fred to a coffee shop. 

A/n: Hey, y'all! This story will definitely have more than one part! Already almost done with part 2 :) I'm having a lot of fun with it and I'm pretty happy with it so far! It'll probably be mostly fluff and maybe some smut, we'll see :P Enjoy!

Thank you @luna-xial​ for the help!

Fred sighed as he started closing up shop for the night. He sent George home early. It seemed appropriate for his brother, who had a beautiful wife and children waiting for him, to get every chance he could to spend the evening at home with them.

George had suggested that they close early and that Fred should join them for dinner, but he declined the offer.

While Fred was always welcomed in their home, he was beginning to feel like a burden. Gradually, more and more of his time was spent alone. He was beginning to feel like a third wheel. The uncle who was constantly hanging around, staying longer than he should, well after the children had gone to bed.

Even amongst the rest of his family, he felt left out, it was a rather odd thing to feel. Everyone seemed to have somebody, his parents had each other, Bill had Fluer, Percy had Audrey, George had Angelina, Ron had Hermione, Ginny had Harry, even Charlie had his dragons… He had never felt like the odd man out before.

Up until recently, Fred and George had been moving in the same direction born together, went to school together, worked together…but now his life and the life of his twin had finally splintered and they were finally on different paths.

Fred often caught himself wanting to turn to George and share an idea or a witty joke, only to realize that his brother wasn’t there.

He was truly happy for George and Angelina. He just sort of wished that he had someone too.

But instead of meeting anyone or even trying to meet anyone, Fred focused on the business. He spent countless hours working alone on new products. Stayed late doing whatever he could to stay distracted.

If Fred was being honest with himself, he’d admit that all the time he was spent at work was to avoid having to deal with his loneliness. Sometimes he even worked through the night or would fall asleep in the workshop to avoid having to come home to his dark and empty apartment.

Fred tucked his hands into his pockets, there wasn’t anything left for him to do. Everything was clean, shelves were stocked, the store was all set for tomorrow.

He would spend time developing new products but lately, he was having a dry spell, no new ideas or if he did have one it wasn’t any good.

Fred started feeling anxious, standing there in an empty store with nothing but silence to keep him company, slowly that lonely feeling he dreaded was starting to sink in.

Shaking his head, he quickly slipped on his jacket and locked the door.

Outside the air was cool and crisp, and the night sky was full of stars. Not wanting to go home, Fred started walking aimlessly.

Most of the businesses he passed were closed for the night. The streets were dark and vacant with the exception of the occasional street lamp and stray cat.  

Fred mulled over ideas in his head for new products, he had been thinking about that age line spell from 6th year, wondering if there was a way him and George could create a cream or candy that would age the user by 100 years, temporarily of course.

He frowned to himself, wondering if it was even a good idea and if their customers would even buy something like that.

Could just be a waste of time… or it could be a fun prank to pull on someone else. The kids who witnessed him and George suddenly become old men seemed to find it pretty hilarious. Fred continued to go back and forth on the idea until he gave up.

He groaned loudly, this was way easier when George was around to bounce ideas off of. He’d just have to wait until tomorrow morning, see what George had to say then.

Fred finally stopped walking once he realized that he had no clue where he was. He could easily apparate home, but his eyes were drawn to the building he stopped in front of.

The warm light was like a beacon, pulling Fred to it, without thinking he entered the small muggle establishment.

Inside it was cozy and smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

The woman behind the counter watched Fred intently with a playful smile on her lips. His unique orange suit that clashed with his red hair piqued her interest, making her want to know more about him. He was by far the most intriguing person that’s walked in all week.

He carefully took in his new surroundings, mismatched furniture, local artwork decorating the walls, and the homey interior that reminded him of the burrow.

“Can I help you?” She spoke up, finally drawing his attention to her.

Fred blinked a few times, his mouth hanging open, he wasn’t expecting to meet anyone so...attractive. He openly stared a moment longer, taking in her features and her bright smile.

As he was about to reply, his mouth snapped shut, it just dawned on him that he didn’t have any money to pay for anything, well not any money that she’d want anyway.

Sheepishly running his hand through his hair, Fred chuckled, “‘Afraid I don’t have any money on me.”

“That’s alright, find a place to sit and I’ll bring you a little something,” y/n said pulling out an orange mug.

“You don’t have to do that,” Fred objected.

She laughed, “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing fancy. I’m gonna have to throw out this pot of coffee in a bit anyway.”

Fred smiled and took a seat by the window. She brought him a cup of coffee and a scone on a small matching plate, setting them both in front of him.

“Thank you…. y/n,” Fred added reading her name on the tag pinned to her apron. “I’m Fred, by the way,” he introduced himself.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just old coffee and a stale pastry.”

She lingered by the table, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. “May I ask you a question?” Y/n finally asked, tilting her head.

“Sure,” Fred answered, taking a big bite of the scone, now realizing how hungry he was.

“What’s with the suit?”

He chuckled, “just left work.”

Y/n nodded, “and?”

Fred just stared at her, not quite understanding her interest in the suit.

“It’s just such an unusual color,” she explained, now noticing the gold ‘W’ pin on his tie and the playful design on his dress shirt.

“Oh, well, you see my brother George and I run a joke shop together, the suit just kind of goes with it all.”

She clapped her hands together, “That’s fantastic! Honestly, I love it, it’s a great suit.” Without thinking y/n took the seat across from Fred, not that he minded.

“So you and your brother own a joke shop? You look awfully young to own your own business.”

“Georgie and I have had a lifelong passion for practical jokes and pranks,” he explained, adding an obscene amount of sugar to his coffee. “We started designing and making our own products while we were still in school.”

“That’s incredible,” y/n gushed. “So as boys did you guys start off with things like hand buzzers and whoopee cushions?”

Fred quirked an eyebrow, what in the world was a whoopee cushion, “a what?”

“Oh you know, it’s a rubber cushion filled with air that you hide on someone’s seat, so it makes it sound like they broke wind,” she described.

Fred laughed, “That’s brilliant.”

He didn’t quite share his father’s interest in muggle gadgets, but maybe that’ll change. He could already imagine what the magical counterpart of a whoopee cushion would be like.

“What were some of your favorite pranks from your childhood?” Y/n asked, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Fred started sharing stories of some of their earlier pranks, making sure he left out all talk of magic and spells. The sound of her laughter and genuine interest spurred him on.

“Fireworks? Really? That’s unbelievable!” She gasped.

“I don’t think you quite grasp how much we despised that woman,” He smirked, finishing off his cup of coffee.

Y/n sighed, it had been quite some time since she’d had so much fun. She was about to ask him another question until she spotted the clock hanging on the wall.

“Oh wow!” She announced practically jumping out of her seat. “It’s getting late! It’s already past closing.”

“Sorry,” Fred started, standing up and getting ready to leave, but y/n lightly swatted his arm.

“Don’t be! I really enjoyed talking with you.” She grabbed the empty dishes off the table. Looking up at Fred, she bit her lip. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

A wide grin formed on Fred’s face, “Do you work tomorrow night?”

[holme88morin]

Murano Glass Wall Lighting - Combining Beauty and Elegance

It is practically impossible with regard to you not to include heard of the Murano glass in addition to the beautifully products made deploying it. Murano is one regarding the most desired destination for tourists in addition to art and jewelry lovers. Murano is usually a region identified for its glass products since the particular early 13th centuries and its particular products will be extremely priced at a glass and jewelry fairs, exhibits and sales. All Murano cup products are made by hand plus each is provided plenty of attention in order to detail and gewandtheit. Simply put, you can't find more beautiful glass items than those produced in Murano. If you are interested in a new time for you or to offer because a gift, some sort of Murano glass wall membrane clock can be the perfect answer. Murano glass wall clocks are some of the particular most beautifully hand crafted clocks in typically the world and their top secret is that all the clock's mechanisms plus dials are on one side plus another of a new plate made of Murano glass. It gets in most sorts of colours (and because the particular manufacturing processes have been refined for hundreds of years, the color depth and nuance will be unrivaled). 結婚式　贈答品　三連時計　プレゼント　 will be built having a severe attention for excellent detail and an individual can choose between the many versions available. It most depends on what gets you off and what a person are looking intended for: you can find clocks inspired with the sun, influenced by various musical instruments, or by simply other ancient sujet or sciences: Both roman motifs, mosaic, massive or horoscope motifs and lots of, many more). Murano glass clocks are available in a significant palette of colours so you can get the color that suits your wants. The glass is colored during the manufacturing process and even not painted on top afterwards, so a person are guaranteed of which your wall clock's color will last regarding as long while the clock will. Murano glass manufacturers are famous for their glass's aquamarine (they obtain this specific color by which include copper and cobalt compounds during typically the manufacturing process) and for their ruby reds (which works on the gold solution to be able to give its gleaming aspect and powerful color). Usually, wall clocks are round with large knobs to help you read the time anytime with no any problems. Even though looking at the clock's dials you will notice the time spent in planning all the clock's details. Clocks of which are decorated using more complex motifs and paintings are merely astonishing and in the event that you intend to buy the clock to get provided as a gift, you can get sure that your existing will be seen. Each of the Murano cup wall clocks are manually built within specialized shops, guaranteeing you a great clock durability in addition to reliability. Most lighting are battery controlled and all an individual have to perform is always to change it when it is usually finished. Buying many of these a wall time will surely provide a room another appearance due to their own beauty and quality.

[avengenerd]

Clockwork

A/N: it’s ya girl, back at it again after OVER A YEAR of not posting a fic. I’ve been working really hard this year in getting back into writing, and I’d like to think I’ve improved since I last posted here. So, let me know what you think. Like, comment, REBLOG, I go feral for the last two. Also S/O to @writeyourmindaway​ whose custom line divider I used! Much love, in these oh so trying times. 

Summary: Bucky x Female!Reader (established relationship). Reader is a part of the team, and endowed with the skills of MacGyver and a science degree. She’s also been kidnapped, disarmed, and locked inside with a ticking bomb. It’s not great. 

Word count: 2296

Category: fluff, light angst and self-deprecation. We been there. No warnings. Enjoy!

You’ve got 10 minutes before the walls come caving in. Four red, white and blue wires snake around four identical corners joined by enough incendiary to turn you to ash. The door is locked from the outside and your previous attempts at breaking it open have proved both a waste of time and a bruising task.

At 8 minutes and 35 seconds, you’ve assessed the bomb’s components and begin to thoroughly scan the small bathroom. A wall radiator attached to brown metallic pipes, definitely gas fed, is beside the ceramic toilet bowl. It tells you that not only are they planning on wiping you out, but burying the entire building beneath flames and rubble. On the floor there’s cleaning bleach and a blue bottle of standard toilet cleaner. You grab one of them and put it on the sink. In the mirror-cabinet above, you find a small manicure pouch. Immediately, you pull out tweezers and a metallic file. There’s no trimming scissors so you take the nail clipper instead.

The impending explosion is the most immediate threat, so that’s where you begin. Using the tweezers you unscrew the plating, and pry open the metal casing with the nail file to expose wiring. Four wires, same sequence as the external, red—blue—white—blue. You snip the last blue wire with the nail clippers. The timer stops at 7 minutes and 1 second.

It’s not over yet. In 7 minutes and 1 second, the assholes who locked you inside with a bomb will be wondering why there weren’t any fireworks. Then, they’ll be back. You may be able to diffuse a bomb but your capabilities end at stopping an army of bullets.

There’s a knock on the door.

You stop breathing. Tilting your head toward the door, you listen closely and hear heavy pants. Inching back to the sink you pick up the bottle of bleach.

Another knock, this time followed by a tentative call.

“Y/N?”.

You put the bottle down. “Bucky?”

A sigh comes from the other side. “Fuckin’ hell. Next time you get kidnapped, try not to lose your comms.”

Tilting your head back, you let out a deep breath before moving closer to the door.  “I’ll try to remember that. Can you let me out now? There’s a bomb-“

“Shit.” A ruffling followed by a grunt comes from Bucky’s side. “Move away from the door.”

You immediately scurry to the sink, as three pops to the door’s hinges allow Bucky to enter the small room.

His dark hair is matted to his face, drenched in sweat. His thick blue vest holds a darker spot on his left side, not much bigger than the size of a fist. Blood, maybe. ‘His’, you wonder. ‘Or someone else’s’. He’s grinning at you, skin stretched at the corners of his mouth, a pleasant image despite the huge semi-automatic attached to his back. ‘Definitely someone else’s’.

You smile back at him. “You took your sweet time.”

He glances at the left wall hosting the disarmed bomb and quirks an eyebrow at you. You shrug your shoulders in response. “Couldn’t wait forever, babe.”

Bucky moves to respond, but is interrupted by distant shouts.  “New friends of yours?” he asks.

“Clearly,” you reply, nodding to the explosives. “Did you by chance bring some friends of your own? A small army, perhaps?”

“Not exactly. We knew you’d be somewhere in the area, but there’s about five industrial bases within a 10 mile radius.” He removes the gun from behind his back, reloading the magazine. “The team had to split up. Didn’t think you’d be kept here though.”

Which is exactly why he checked, he goes on to explain. When the others reported unoccupied spaces, he’d almost given up. Until Tony conveniently mentioned how odd it was for there to be a 3-storey colonial home in the middle of an industrial outlet.

You hum in acknowledgement, moving once more toward the sink. “My man, ever the hero.” You send a wink his way. You open the cabinet once more and pull out a bottle of clear liquid. “Buck, pass me the bleach.”

The thundering footsteps of armed idiots inch closer towards your position. Your 7 minutes are up.

He hands you the heavy container, and you immediately pour the clear liquid into it, screw the cap and hand it back to him. You move back to the bomb, detaching the C-4 explosives from the rest of the mechanism.

“Care to explain what it is you’re doing?” Bucky shifts to move closer to you, but you hold a hand up at him.

“Please don’t move. There’s some highly exothermic chemistry waiting to happen in that,” you point at the bottle in his hand, “and I’d rather it didn’t happen here.”  You grab the beige blocks of C-4 with their fuses still attached.

“Right. Usually I’d find this really hot but, we’re on a clock sugar.” The group of Hydra militants have entered the bottom floor, and you can hear commands being shouted.

“Then let’s dip. Hand me the bleach, you take this,” you say, piling the explosives into his unarmed hand. You take the bottle and finally exit the bathroom meant to be your final resting place. Gross. You leave those thoughts for later.

Short static buzzes come from Bucky’s ear, as he presses down on the hidden earpiece. “Yeah, I’ve got her……. There’s too many of ‘em right now for just the two of us….. think you can pick us up from the roof?” Another final buzz and Bucky looks to you and nods. “Whatever you’re planning on doing, do it now. Sam’s ETA is 2 minutes.

Your assailants have cleared out the first floor, and are making their way up the second. You estimate 30 seconds before they find your position.

You shake the bottle in your hands and immediately feel heavy waves of heat permeating through the plastic. “Then this should buy us some time.”

As you make your way down the corridor with Bucky scoping ahead, you uncover the bottle and let its contents run out in front of you, immediately backing away and covering your mouth. Toxic white fumes escape and a small, but dense fog settles ahead of the spill, growing as more liquid evaporates.

The pair of you run towards the window at the end of the hall. As you reach your destination, a smattering series of coughs and heaving erupts behind you.

“What the fuck is that?!”

“Shit! Cover your nose!”

“I think...I’m gonna…gonna…pass-” followed by a heavy thunk.

Bucky turns to you, bewildered and confused. “What was that?”

“Really crude chloroform. Very nasty stuff, concerningly easy to make.” He gives you an impressed smile, as if to say “not bad”, and proceeds to break through the window with his metal arm.

Clearing out the glass shards, he beckons you to go first. You climb onto the roof and he hands you the plastic bricks of C-4 before slinging himself up to join you.

“How long till Sam gets here?” you ask him, squinting as harsh winds blow into your face.

“Why don’t you look up, sweetheart,” a familiar voice announces. You glance towards the sky and see Sam hovering above you, a halo of sunlight framing his head. A very fitting image indeed.

“Y’all ready to bounce or what?” Grinning from ear to ear, he lowers down onto the roof and engulfs you in a hug. “Damn girl, you really had us scared for a minute.”

“Only a minute?” You scoff. “Might as well leave me here then.”  Smiling into his shoulder, you hug him back, happy to feel safe again.

“Please don’t. Let’s move before you don’t have an actual choice,” Bucky interjects, his eyebrows tensed but his light expression remaining.

“Right. Hope y’all don’t get air sick,” Sam grabs onto each of your hands, extending his wings.

“Wait!” You shout. Grabbing the explosives you ask, “Any of you guys got a match?”

You take the lighter Bucky provides you with and ignite it. You move towards the edge of the roof and burn the fuses of each brick of C-4, before throwing them into the broken window below.

Immediately you sprint towards the waiting men, and grab Sam’s hand. “Okay, go go go go go!”

Without any further delays, Sam takes off with a grunt, arms straining as he takes you three airborne. Not even 13 feet into the air do the explosions begin, the roof you previously stood on exploding in a fiery blaze. Almost immediately, the horde of enemies who had hunted you flee the house through the bottom floor. From your view, they looked like ants being fumigated from their burrow. How appropriate.

“They’re escaping!” You shout over the whipping wind, but Bucky hears you. He nods no, before pointing in the distance behind you.

Looking back, you see an ever distant figure breaking through the scene of blue sky with streaks of red and gold. On the ground, Steve’s shield knocks down a round of men in one swoop whilst Wanda’s red magic incapacitates another.

You look back at Bucky and grin.

“Man, I love you guys.”

“I brought you something.” Bucky’s low voice interrupts your star-gazing as he joins you on the balcony. You look back at him. Steam rises upward and into his face from your favourite mug (the bright pink one with a 2005 Barbie movie plastered on its side).

“Aw, you remembered,” you coo at him, grasping the mug between your palms. The hot air rises to your face and you sigh deeply. Your hands tremble a little. It’s been a long day.

“The colour’s hard to forget,” he grins. “How are you though?” Bucky stands beside you, so closely you can hear him breathing. You can feel his eyes on you, and decidedly ignore his question. You blow gently into the tea and take a sip.

The disgust on your face is evident.

Your boyfriend rushes to explain. “It’s Valerian root. It’s supposed to help relieve stress or somethin’…” he trails off. You’re crying. “Is it that bad? You don’t have to finish it or-,”

“No,” you turn to face him. He’s looking at you gently, calmly, like he already knows what you’re going to say.

You say it anyway. “I should be happy. We did what we were supposed to do, and nobody who wasn’t supposed to get hurt, didn’t. We got the bad guys, again.” You scrunch up your face, and briefly squeeze your eyes shut, feeling even more pathetic for crying. “And I got captured, again. Someone had to save me, again.” It stings. This is the second time it’s happened in this month and though it has little to do with your performance, it definitely feels that way.

“I didn’t get hurt, and I know I should be happy about that. Everything worked out in the end, but, god Bucky!” The tea sloshes out of the cup and onto both your feet. You pause to look down at the mess, then up at him, and you lose it.

Bucky quickly takes the mug and places it out of reach. Wrapping his arms around you, he holds you as you cry into his shoulder.

“I-I don’t even know why I’m losing it.” You feel palms gently moving across your back, and for some reason it makes you cry harder. “I-, we got out, we’re safe. I just-”

“Just because you left unmarked, doesn’t mean you left unaffected Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, hugging you tighter. “What happened to you could’ve happened to any one of us. No matter how much we plan, we don’t always know how our enemy is gonna react. You got out. More than once. That definitely counts for something.” He unwraps his arms from your body and steps back to look into your eyes.

Your crying has dwindled to tearing, but tracks (and a little bit of snot) remain.

He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. “If it were me trapped in there, I probably woulda been barbecue.” You sniffle. “Smoked. Grilled. Roasted.” He continues and smiles at the breathy laugh you give in return.

“Toasted?” You continue, giving in to his jesting. He moves his hand from your face as you wipe the remnants of your tears away.

“Exactly. Not to mention you’ve probably terrified them for life. Chemical warfare and an incendiary attack in less than 5 minutes? I’d be pissin’ myself if I didn’t know you were on our side,” he teases, grinning as you shake your head.

“You should still be pissing yourself. Valerian’s got actinidine, Bucky. Fly pheromones. That tea was so gross,” and with that, Bucky knew he’d done his job, at least for tonight. He could give you tonight.

“Yeah yeah,” he grabs you again and pulls you into his embrace. You weren’t gone for long, he knows, but a gram of anxiety niggled at him regardless. His worry and consequent relief was well hidden for your sake. But you knew. You always knew.

Lightly pressing your palm to his cheek, you lean in to kiss him, feeling his lips on yours in a sweet and delicate reciprocity. The air tonight is cold. It should be prickly, but it softens between the both of you. You let him know you love him, and how much you appreciate him. You also kindly remind him that he shouldn’t rely on every Google suggestion.  

When you go inside, Bucky asks you about making chloroform, then gleefully interrupts you mid-explanation with another kiss. “You’re so hot when you science at me, babe.”

You fling a pillow at him and the night ends in love and laughter.

[divinespiritualgifts]

Luxurious Gifts For Dhanteras Puja That Are Considered Lucky

India is a land of festivals, Diwali being the most enjoyable of all. Dhanteras marks the beginning of the biggest celebration in the country. Know more about it. 

People follow every religion with huge respect and faith here. Dhanteras is the festival that falls on the 13th day of Krishna Paksha. According to the Hindu lunar calendar, it comes in the Karthik month. It is a common belief that buying 24 carat gold gift items on Dhanteras is considered auspicious. 

Rituals Taking Place In Dhanteras 

On this pious day, devotees worship Lord Dhanvantari in the evening with fresh flowers. Moreover, one also worships Goddess Lakshmi according to the Dhanteras Puja Muhurat. After the Puja gets over, people distribute the Prasad to their neighbourhood. However, we must not forget the most important activity done on Dhanteras-buying gold and other gift items. Let’s dive deep and dig more into the fact. 

Gifts That Are Auspicious To Buy On Dhanteras 

Here is a list of gifts, purchasing which is lucky on Dhanteras. So, let’s have a look at them. 

Gold Plated Coins 

It is a very common sight that people buy 24 carat gold coin on this day. They believe that bringing gold and silver to their home will remove all negativities. Goddess Lakshmi is the goddess of wealth. Hence, it also symbolizes that you will get good fortune by worshipping her. Today, it is not difficult to purchase a gold coin. With prestigious brands like Diviniti, you can know Laxmi Ganesh gold coin price and purchase them easily. 

Gold Photo Frames 

Apart from coins, some people also buy customized frames for their family and friends. Heading over to Diviniti will let you buy the best double sided glass frame. Not only are these frames luxurious but also increase the beauty of your house. May Goddess Lakshmi and Lord Ganesha bless your home with divine prosperity and wealth. 

Puja Kits 

Finally, on our list is Puja Kits. Diviniti offers splendid puja kits online. It has all the necessary items you will need to perform a Dhanteras Puja. Just like you buy home decor Diwali gifts, you must also buy this divine pooja kit. They also have a customized pooja kit where you can combine your choice of items. 

In Conclusion

Brace yourself for the most delightful celebration of the year. Get in touch with Diviniti and buy wall decoration items for living room. Additionally, you can also buy gold plated corporate gifts at exclusive offers. Hence, what is the wait for? Contact them today.

[henshengs]

hunger games au, part 5

part 4

parts 1-3, on AO3 as one chapter

This one is loooong, but Xiyao finally interact!

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Meng Yao wakes alone. This is slightly alarming. He doesn’t often fall asleep in other people’s beds, but when he does it’s secure in the knowledge that he is a light enough sleeper to wake when his bedmate rises. His own room in the Unclean Realm has a high east-facing window, and usually he doesn’t need an alarm clock to wake with the dawn and begin the day’s tasks. 

Now he is awake and he is not sure what time it is, and he is alone in this large, disturbingly comfortable bed. There are no windows in this room, only video panels showing singing birds in a dappled forest. Meng Yao shifts. His body aches. It feels as though there is a large bruise across his lower right side, and his old hip injury is making itself heard again. But he raises his fingers to his face and prods his skin, and it feels normal, not puffy. Whatever his stylist did to protect his looks, it worked. 

He rolls off the bed, and slowly, achingly, pushes himself to his feet. He’s hungry, which would normally mean it’s the early meal hour, but he can’t rely on that now, when he hasn’t eaten in a day and a half. There are clothes laid out in a neat pile next to his side of the bed. Simple robes in a paler gray than his parade clothes, in a fabric that shimmers, with a wide tight belt to emphasize his narrow waist, and gathered sleeves to cling to his slender arms. 

Meng Yao stumbles into the washroom and vomits bile. There’s no food for his rebellious stomach to bring up, but there’s no blood, either, so that’s good.

Out in the main room, Zonghui is sitting cross-legged at the main table, consuming what looks like a surprisingly exotic and luxurious breakfast. She’s dressed in the same fabric as he is, but with wider sleeves and longer, fuller robes. 

He bows to her, feeling the ache in his side as he bends. “May I enquire as to the Sect Leader’s whereabouts?”

“Lady Qiu forbid him from taking breakfast with the competitors,” Zonghui says, apparently entirely focused on her egg. “Sect Leader Nie was displeased. He stated he was leaving to seek an audience with Competition Manager Wen.”

Meng Yao feels his skin prickle with sweat, but he keeps his voice calm as he asks, “Lady Qiu-“

“Went with him.”

There is little Meng Yao or Zonghui can do, then. He doubts they can leave the Preparation Pavilion unaccompanied. He will have to trust in their escort and the guards to prevent Nie Mingjue from getting anywhere close to Wen Chao. It seems likely Nie Mingjue is being punished for last night’s outburst with a restriction of his access to the Lan competitors. He has foolishly revealed one of his weaknesses in the very first move. 

But Meng Yao, at least, can go to breakfast in the communal dining area on the second floor of the Pavilion, and bring back to Nie Mingjue a report of any glimpse of white Lan ribbons. He needs to meet the other competitors, anyway; he’s wasted enough time so far. 

“Is Zonghui-jie not eating with the others?” he asks, injecting extra sweetness into the honorific, just to be petty. 

She responds only with a “Mn” and a small sharp shake of her head. 

She’s not interested in playing the game; fine. He’ll let her die with her sense of Nie honor intact. Good for her, that she can afford it. 

He bows to her again, and walks out to the exterior corridor and the steel door of the elevator. There are no guards in sight, and this solitude is more unsettling than the sight of them would have been. 

The elevator door slides open with a whispering sound incongruous with the weight of the metal, and behind the steel is- a boy, dressed in a light gray-blue, his eyes wide and a little startled before they drop down to the floor and the boy makes a slight quick bow. He’s as small as Meng Yao, made smaller by his air of self-effacement. Only a flash of round unremarkable face before it’s hidden by the bow, but as Meng Yao bows back he’s already placed it.

“Master Su,” he says as he steps into the elevator. Examining his own voice, the way it sounds. Pleased, pleasant, youthful but not immature. He knows he’s the same age as Su Minshan, and in the world of the Competition, he is junior to a  mentor, but he is confident he can make himself seem like the senior, the experienced, interesting one, if that would be useful. Good practice, he thinks, before the main event. 

But the other boy only blushes, nods and looks away in silence. The elevator doors close. The elevator slides downward. 

On the fifth floor it stops. The doors slide open to reveal gold: the Lanling competitors. The girl looks sullen, and the boy tired, as though he didn’t sleep very well last night. The boy looks up, and his face sets into a sneer of disgust. Meng Yao can’t be certain whether the disgust is for him, for Su Minshan, or for the world in general, but Su Minshan quivers and takes a step back, away from the elevator door. 

You’ve killed more people than this peacock, he thinks. You’ve watched their blood sink into the ground. Why fear him? 

But he knows the answer, of course. Knows the workings of shame. 

He watches, through his eyelashes, as Minshan struggles with himself. As the elevator approaches the third floor, Minshan’s soft hand jumps out to press a button. He steps out as soon as the doors open, bowing frantically before making his escape. Jin Zixun makes a snorting noise. Meng Yao sees his fellow Lanling competitor, Luo Qingyang, roll her eyes. 

At the second floor they step out into a large open space full of the aroma of food and the sounds of clinking dishes and conversation. The Lanling competitors exit the elevator. Meng Yao waits a moment before following behind. 

The dining area is as large as the communal food hall in the Unclean Realm, but much emptier, and far more ostentatiously decorated. There are long tables lining the walls, laden with a vast bounty of dishes. In the center of the room are rows of large and mostly empty tables. There are guards by the doors, but no hosts, no seating arrangements, no dishes already on the tables. This is not a formal meal. There is luxury, but no respect. That must be difficult, Meng Yao thinks, for some of the well born children. 

About twenty people are here, most of them young enough to be competitors, some clearly older- mentors or escorts. The escorts are not as easily identified as Meng Yao might have expected, because some of the Wen client sect competitors are clearly trying to ape the color scheme of their masters, with shades of wine and indigo just a touch off from the Wen red and black. 

Few people here are eating alone. Most are in small groups of two or three, seated around the large tables. Near the middle, a larger group has congregated. The Jins are assimilating in with that group now, Meng Yao sees. Competitors and mentors from the wealthier minor clans. A few are in that nearly-red and black color scheme. 

The alliance is already forming. Meng Yao has expected this. He walks quickly to the banquet tables and fills his bowl. He recognizes about half of the delicacies on offer. The brothel catered to a high end clientele, and that included providing the kinds of meals their customers were accustomed to. In the Unclean Realm, austerity is the general rule, but Nie Huaisang likes his delicacies, and occasionally Meng Yao will order something expensive, to tempt the Sect Leader’s appetite. And he at least has not been hungry ever since Nie Mingjue promoted him, though sometimes he has hoarded food in his office or entered the kitchens late at night, to avoid the other disciples.

So he has an advantage in that he is not enthralled by the food the Wens have provided to their captives. Further down he can see the Shudong competitors piling their plates high and exclaiming to each other. Perhaps it is a shame they can’t see how beautifully the dishes have been prepared. Perhaps it is not. 

Bowl in hand, Meng Yao approaches the central table. The conversation dies to a hush as he approaches, which is not a good sign, but he shows no hint of trepidation, just bows, deeply and carefully. “Is there room at this table?” he asks. 

Jin Zixun half turns his head. Behind him, on the other side of the table, the female Yingchuan competitor snickers. 

“Jins don’t eat with whore’s sons,” he says, popping a grape into his mouth. “Thought you’d have learned when you’re not wanted, by now.” 

“Young Master Jin, don’t be so disrespectful,” the girl behind him says. Wang Lingjiao. Not gentry, but she’s clearly found a way to be accepted into their ranks. “Meng Yao’s not just the son of a whore. Haven’t you heard how hard he works for Chifeng-zun?” Her smile is poison.

Jin Zixun smirks. “Oh, that’s right,” he says. “Well, I don’t think I want to eat with a whore’s son or a whore, do you?” 

Wang Lingjiao narrows her eyes at Meng Yao. “He’s not even as pretty as his mother,” she complains.

Jin Zixun looks Meng Yao up and down. “You’re right,” he says. Turns further towards Meng Yao, shifting his body. Settling in for a prolonged entertainment. “Good thing Chifeng-zun took a liking to him, then. Who’d buy his videos?” 

“Oh, look,” Wang Lingjiao says, voice gone sweet with mocking concern. “He’s blushing.” 

Cultivators don’t blush, no matter how fair their skin. Cultivators can control the flow of blood throughout their bodies. Cultivators have mastery over their bodies. 

There is air in Meng Yao’s lungs, even if he can’t feel it. There is pain in his fingers, where they are clenched around his bowl. His smile is frozen on his face and it hurts. It hurts. He needs to breathe. He needs to take in a breath before he suffocates. 

“Excuse me,” someone says, behind him. 

Meng Yao breathes in, squeezes his eyes closed tightly to banish the tears, and turns, arranging his face into a neutral, self-effacing smile. He looks up, through his lashes, into- into a face carved from white jade. Into eyes like a dark ocean. 

The breath he’s just taken leaves his lungs in a rush. 

Lan Xichen’s narrow, perfect mouth is open, soft lips parted, as though he intended to speak again, but his words grew wings and flew away. Those dark eyes are wide. He looks at Meng Yao. Meng Yao looks back. He feels he has never been looked at in this way before. There is still blood in his face, still heat, perhaps, but it is dropping away to a distance far below him. Like he is a bird, soaring up the face of a cliff.

“I have the good fortune to be addressing Meng Yao of Qinghe, yes?” Lan Xichen asks, after a long, long moment. His voice is warm. Gentle and respectful. It rings through Meng Yao like a chorus of bells.  

Meng Yao’s hands, still holding his bowl, sweep upwards into a deep respectful bow. Lan Xichen’s hands catch his, halfway through. Lan Xichen’s hands are cool, his fingers long and delicate. 

“It would do me honor if you would join me at my table,” Lan Xichen is saying. 

He should not. He should not attach himself to the doomed Jades of Lan, to whatever misstep has led to the destruction of their clan. He has encountered a setback in his plan to ingratiate himself with the competition’s primary alliance; he should take a moment to regroup and then try again, with a different angle of attack. 

Lan Xichen’s hands are still pressing against his sleeves. He has not stepped away. He heard what was said, about Meng Yao, about his mother, and he is pressing his elegant hands against Meng Yao’s tightly wrapped wrists. Meng Yao’s skin is tingling, under the cloth.

“Of course, Lan-gongzi,” Meng Yao says. Lan Xichen smiles. It isn’t a polished politician’s smile. It’s hesitant, and relieved, and- 

Turning away from that smile feels like stepping from a warm bath into a freezing winter night, but Meng Yao does it. He glances at the seated teenagers. Jin Zixun has the expression of one who has bitten into something sour. Wang Lingjiao is stabbing at her food. Meng Yao smiles, and bows to them, very correctly, and then he follows Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen is very tall. He is dressed in a very pale sky blue, and a white ribbon hangs down from his elaborate guan. Meng Yao feels an entirely inappropriate urge to tug on it. He is dizzy. Something is happening to him. To everything.

The table Lan Xichen leads him to is empty, save for a younger boy in pure unstained white. The icy Lan Wangji. Meng Yao wonders how much of the tight control in his face is concentration on pain. Cultivators usually heal quickly, but the Lans may have had their cultivation sealed, like Nie Mingjue, or Lan Wangji may have been severely injured. Nie Mingjue will want to know which. 

Something white soars through the air behind Lan Wangji. Meng Yao’s mind has barely recognized it as a paper plane before Lan Wangji’s hand shoots up to catch and crush the delicate object. 

Several tables away, Wei Wuxian grins. He’s dressed in outright black today, no hint of the Jiang purple, his hair ribbon a splash of red. Next to him, Jiang Yanli is hiding a smile behind her hand. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian calls, and there’s no mockery in the informality, only a youthful excitement. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, won’t you give me even a glimpse of you?”

Lan Wangji turns his head. Wei Wuxian’s smile blooms across his face. “Shameless,” Lan Wangji says. He turns back. 

Lan Xichen sits. The motion is so graceful, so effortless, he appears otherworldly. Meng Yao is captivated, watching. To his brother, Lan Xichen says, gently, “Would you like to invite Wei-gongzi to sit with us?”

Lan Wangji’s hand clenches around the crumpled paper ball, knuckles going white. “No,” he says shortly.

Then Lan Xichen looks over at Meng Yao, catching his gaze. There is a small restrained mirth in the depths, now, and an invitation extended to him to share in it. 

Meng Yao does not know what Lan Xichen thinks he is doing. Why he would encourage his brother in adolescent flirtation with another competitor. Why he would show kindness to a servant caught trying to weasel into the confidences of a group of dishonorable jackals. Mysteries are dangerous, and the worst part is that Meng Yao doesn’t want to solve this one. He feels a small smile twitch around his mouth, and watches Lan Xichen see it, watches Lan Xichen smile at him as though he is someone worthy of it.

“It ws very brave and kind of you, Meng-gongzi, to volunteer in Nie Huaisang’s place,” Lan Xichen says. 

“I was only fulfilling my duty to the Nie sect,” Meng Yao demurs. 

“Mingjue spoke highly of you, in his letters,” Lan Xichen says. The mention of Nie Mingjue makes Meng Yao’s blood burn again, makes something strange twist in the pit of his stomach. But Lan Xichen says, carefully, “Everything I’ve seen of your conduct since you arrived here has proven to me that he was speaking only the truth.” 

So he is a far more silver-tongued politician than Nie Mingjue; and he was there to see Meng Yao’s face ground into the dirt. Meng Yao is sure he is turning red again.

Lan Xichen seems to sense his distress. His attention turns to the table and he says, “This tea is very good.” 

It isn’t- it’s instant, and made from a ground green powder- but Meng Yao seizes upon the opportunity to stand and say, “I’ll get you another cup.”

“There’s no need,” Lan Xichen says, but Meng Yao almost interrupts to tell him, “I’m getting some for myself anyway, I insist.”

Their fingers brush as Lan Xichen hands him the teacup. Meng Yao flees, and lingers by the beverages table listening to his heart pound in his ears.