#and we are shopping for sarees

[jjscrybaby]

just found your account and i love your writing! would you make an imagine where bff jj and bff reader are obsessed with eachother and the’re both confident and always flirts with each other and its so obvious the’re in love with each other. dont really have a plot in mind i just really love the trope and dynamic you know

bsf!jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (slight angst, don’t want to spoil it so no more warnings!!!)

thankyou angel!!! hope this is okay, i strayed a bit from the request but this came to mind :)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

The dynamic between you and JJ was confusing, not just for the two of you but for everyone that ever came across you. Your friends had gotten used to the flirting, the touching and the goo-goo eyes you’d give each other across the room. Your classmates didn’t understand what you were to each other, you’d say you were best friends but then you’d be sat in his lap with him kissing your neck for the majority of a kegger.

“Why don’t you just admit it?” You had the same conversation at least once a week. Sarah was adamant that you had feelings for the blonde, she also had a bet going with John B that you’d be the first to confess.

“Because that would be lying,” you replied with a smirk, you were teasing her and she knew it.

“No it wouldn’t!” Sarah exclaimed, watching as you snorted into your drink. She glared at you. You may be amused, but she’s far from it.

“Look, I know you love the idea of me and JJ getting married, having babies and being in love but it’s just not gonna happen,” you explained with a shrug.

She huffed, taking a sip from her glass of wine. You figured she’d be pouting for the next hour, so you were surprised when you saw a small smirk play on her lips. You raised an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side as you waited for her to say what she was thinking.

“What’s the look about, Cameron?” You asked after she’d been silent for too long.

“I was just thinking,” she said, now grinning from ear to ear as if she’d had an epiphany. “If you don’t like JJ, then you wouldn’t mind him going on a date. Right?”

“JJ doesn’t date,” you responded quickly. It wasn’t an excuse, really it wasn’t. JJ isn’t a commitment kind of guy, his longest relationship is with the milk in his fridge.

“Trust me, he’ll want to date this girl. She came to the shop the other day and he was pretty much drooling,” Sarah stated. It was an exaggeration, but you didn’t need to know that. Not if her plan was going to work.

“And you know her?” You questioned, brows furrowing. You took a long sip of your wine, the thought of JJ drooling over a girl made your stomach turn.

Sarah nodded her head. “We went to school together.”

“She’s a Kook?” You laughed, all anxiety leaving your body. “Yeah, okay, good luck with that Sare.”

“Are you saying you’re okay with it?” Sarah asked.

“It’s non of my business who or what JJ dates. I’m not his girlfriend,” you responded. You didn’t need to worry. He wouldn’t say yes, not to a date with a Kook; maybe not to a date with anyone.

“Great,” Sarah shrugged, smiling smugly at you.

JJ and John B didn’t come back in from the shop until after the sun had set, you assumed they’d closed up a couple hours ago and ended up smoking a joint together so they didn’t have to share with everyone.

You and Sarah were laid on the couch, watching a movie. John B walked in first, a goody grin on his face at the sight of his wife. “Hello, ladies.”

“Good shift?” Sarah asked, leaning up so he could press a peck to his lips.

For a split second you felt lonely, before JJ came bouncing into the room and jumped on top of you. You groaned, shoving at his waist. “Ouch, J!”

“Missed ya,” he grinned, pressing dramatic kisses all over your face. You could feel Sarah’s gaze on you, you had to fight the urge to turn around and punch her.

“JJ, I’ve got you a date for Saturday night,” Sarah stated. She’d texted the girl, Chloe, earlier. You’d pretended not to care when Chloe had responded and said yes.

“Huh?” You could feel him freeze above you, eyes narrowing at her.

“A date, never heard of one?” She teased. “It’s with the girl that came into the shop the other day, Chloe? I already asked her and she said yes so unless you can come up with a valid reason not to go then you’re going.”

A valid reason. There was a very big one right underneath him, but he couldn’t say that. He racked his brain, but nothing came to mind. “Uh, alright, I guess. But you can’t be mad at me if I never call her again.”

“I can and I will. But, I don’t think that’ll be an issue. You guys are quite similar, she loves surfing, smokes a shit ton of weed and she’s hot. What else could you want?” Sarah asked.

“So you think I’m hot?” JJ joked, making John B reach over and punch him in the bicep. He groaned, letting out a laugh. “Sorry, sorry. I guess she sounds alright. What d’you think?”

You looked up, he was staring right at you. His head was tilted. He was asking for your permission. That’s not what best friend’s are supposed to do. Best friend’s don’t ask for permission to date other people, and they definitely don’t feel physically sick just at the idea of it.

“Sounds fun,” you murmured, giving him a fake smile.

He nodded slowly, as if he didn’t fully believe you. “I guess I’m going on a date then.”

“Guess you are.”

———

Saturday night came around far too quickly for your liking. All week, ever since JJ had agreed to go on this date, it’s all you could think about. You’d laid awake staring at the ceiling wondering what your relationship would be like if he had a girlfriend. During your shift together on Wednesday, you watched as he texted back and forth with someone; you assumed Chloe. Was he really that excited about this date he had to text her?

He didn’t mention it, not until he came into your room and asked for your help on picking a shirt. You picked the uglier one, but he still managed to look perfect.

“How do I look?” He asked, giving you a smirk as he pulled the collar down.

“Like a new man,” you teased, but your tone wasn’t as energetic as usual. You felt like shit, you shouldn’t be praying on your best friend’s downfall, you should be happy for him. But you can’t bring yourself to find this good.

“Well, gotta look good to impress a Kook,” he shrugged.

If this date was with you, you wouldn’t care what he wore. He could dress in a bin-bag and you’d still find him gorgeous. Over the last week you’ve come to the horrible realisation that maybe Sarah’s right. Maybe you do have feelings for JJ.

“You alright?” He asked softly, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, giving him a small smile.

“You sure?” He didn’t look convinced, his hand rubbing your thigh gently. “Y’look upset. You want me to stay home? We can watch a movie or somethin’.”

“What? No, JJ, I’m fine, don’t be silly,” you laughed him off.

“It’s not silly if you need me,” he argued, other hand moving to stroke your hair. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

You nodded your head, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Go on, you’re gonna be late.”

“Will you text me if you need me?” He murmured, looking unsure. There was something going on in his head, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know what it was.

“Yeah, Jayj,” you reassured softly. “Have a good time, okay?”

“I will,” he smiled, kissing your temple. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You spent ten minutes moping in your bedroom before Sarah was storming in. “Are you going to admit it yet? Or are you going to sit in here all night crying?”

“I’m not crying,” you argued, glaring at her. It wasn’t her fault, not really, but you needed someone to be mad at and she was in the closest vicinity.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question this time, it was a statement, and you didn’t deny it. “Get dressed, we’re gonna go get drunk.”

“What?” You sighed.

“You heard me. Put on something cute, put on a smile and get ready to get plastered. I’m sorry I set him up, and the way I’ll apologise is by getting you out of this funk,” Sarah ordered.

There was no use arguing with Sarah Cameron, you’d learnt that a long time ago. So, you forced yourself out of bed and put on a dress. John B didn’t say much when he drove the two of you to a sea-food restaurant on the pier, he just gave you a smile as you got out the Twinkie.

She lead you inside, it only took a few seconds for you to spot him. He was staring right at you, a gentle smile on his face. The most shocking part? There was no girl sat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” You asked, turning to look at Sarah.

“Have a good date,” she murmured, kissing your cheek before turning around and heading back out the door.

“Wha— Sarah!” You tried calling after her, you were sure you could hear her giggling.

JJ slowly stood up and walked towards you, stopping only a few inches away. He was grinning, you were utterly confused. “What the fuck is going on? Where’s Chloe?”

“Sarah never texted Chloe,” he said softly. “You think she’s a damn idiot? As if I’d ever go on a date with anyone but you.”

“I’m so confused right now,” you huffed. “You lied to me!”

There were people starting to stare at the two of you. JJ took your waist and lead you outside, giving the pair of you some privacy. “I wasn’t lying… At first. I thought she really did set me up, and I said yeah to be polite. I was gonna pretend to be sick or somethin’.”

“And then?”

“When you went to bed, she told me the real plan. I go on a ‘date’, she gets you here and we surprise you. I nearly blew it all off earlier, you looked upset and I never want to be the reason you’re upset,” JJ explained, letting out a sigh.

“What about all the texting? When we were on shift, you were constantly smiling at your phone,” you accused.

He smiled sheepishly, looking at the ground. “Sarah and John B were pretty excited about all this, they made a groupchat. My phones been blowing up all week.”

“What’s it called?” You murmured.

“Operation lovebirds,” he stated, making you giggle quietly.

“That’s stupid.”

“Yep.”

It was silent for a moment, him looking at you and you looking around as if someone was going to jump out with a camera and yell gotcha! You just had one more question, but it was probably the most important.

“Why are we on a date, JJ?” You asked quietly, finally making eye contact with him. “Why did you set all this up? Why do you have a groupchat?”

He gulped, letting out a deep breath. His arms wrapped around your waist, forehead leaning against yours. “Because I love you.” You were sort of expecting that, but your heart still fluttered in your chest. “And not as a best friend, I’ve been in love with you since you gave me your teddy bear ‘cause I told you I didn’t have any.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, but a smile made its way onto your face. “I love you.”

“I know.” Tears ran down your face. The one thing JJ had never been sure of was that people cared about him, but with you he didn’t have to think twice. He wiped your tears, letting out a soft laugh. “Don’t gotta cry about it.”

“Shut up or I’m going home,” you warned, he chucked again.

He leant down, lips brushing against yours before he pulled you into him and stole the first kiss. You gasped against his mouth, but within seconds you were melting into his embrace and the smell of marijuana and his cologne.

“Most people kiss after the date,” you murmured against his lips, his arms squeezing you tightly.

“Yeah, well, most people also don’t take twelve years to admit how they feel.”

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

change the wedding dress store to a saree shop then! it would also be fun to have a little escaping scene where they're hiding everywhere too. im willing to do anything to make this happen babe

my one wish for pjo season 2: nix the white wedding dress for grover and put him in a saree. bonus points if theres a little makeover montage of him putting kohl on his eyes and jhumkas in his ears and anklets and henna on his feet

[manikas-whims]

Happy Diwali 🎇 and thanks for all the nice headcanons about lads

can i please please request some Diwali headcanons with lads boys pretty plase 🥹 lov u

Happy Diwali to you too anon 🥰

tho i’m kinda busy at home, i’ll write a few HCs for you ♡

Celebrating Diwali with LADS Men

some love and deepspace x Desi! Reader headcanons

Cleaning and Decorations with Xavier

-> Cleaning up the house during Diwali signifies letting go of the old (past) and bringing in/welcoming the new. Whereas decorative lights represent the triumph of light over darkness; victory of good over evil.

You tell Xavier about this desi tradition and the next morning he's at your door at 7 am sharp with all the cleaning supplies. He helps you clean up, declutter and even get rid of certain things you don't need anymore but keep hoarding for no reason 😭

Xavier will also love joining you in crafting lanterns, as well as buying decorative items because he gets to spend more time with you 🥺. He'll help you hang the decorative pieces at all the high places, and definitely enjoy setting up all the lights ✨. IT'S HIS FAVORITE PART ABOUT THIS FESTIVAL. He'll help place the diyas (🪔) all over the house.

Shopping with Sylus

-> Shopping for new items such as furnishings and such is a way to bring in the new things into your lives. It's also believed that buying gold or silver during Diwali is auspicious and brings in wealth and prosperity to a family.

Sylus learns about this custom and the next day, he's outside your apartment with his sportscar, inviting you to a shopping date with him. Will definitely spoil you and buy loads of gold and silver jewellery for you cause he can 😌

Will also buy you furnishings way too lavish for your liking, saying shit like “the couch in your living room is too shabby, sweetie.” May or may not ask Luke and Keiran to help replace and redecorate all the furniture in your house 😭

Making candles and sweet dishes with Zayne

-> Many people buy but many others also make their own candles and diyas (🪔) at home to decorate the house. We also make sweet dishes which vary accordingly with every region of India.

Zayne is a calm and patient person. So who better to invite for making candles and sweets than him? He'll be a very patient learner. He'll love this activity so much, mostly cause he'll get to see your cute, annoyed expressions. And his candles will definitely look better than your crooked ones 😭

ZAYNE LOVES SWEETS! He'll be kinda excited to try the Desi delicacies. He'd probably enjoy Gulab Jamun the most! And Rasmalai 😋. He may not like kaju katli or soan papri as much but he'll appreciate them all the same. Oh and he will surely like boondi ke laddu.

Rangoli and Mehendi with Rafayel

-> We make Rangolis during Diwali to welcome the Goddess Lakshmi, goddess of wealth and prosperity. It is believed that deities like houses with beautiful rangoli. Rangolis also represent the people’s joy as well as the triumph of good over evil. Whereas Mehendi (or henna art) is a tradition mostly performed by women. We love covering our hands in beautiful henna art 😍

Rafayel is an artist so of course he's gonna be most excited to indulge in the Rangoli making. His designs are gonna be the prettier than yours. He doesn't even bother looking up the simple rangoli designs on the internet. He'll directly create his own authentic and complex designs all over your house.

And he'd love Mehendi (henna art). He'd quickly learn the process of making mehendi at home. And then he'll get down to making beautiful patterns on your hands. Will definitely add lots of water symbolic designs as well as hide his name in the design 🤭 (eh-hem hiding each-other’s names in mehendi art is a hindu wedding tradition for bride and groom)

Miscellaneous HCs

♡ All of them will sincerely sit throughout the praying session. They'll help perform all the rituals.

♡ All of them will gawk at you in your pretty lehengas and sarees and kurtis and other traditional outfits you choose to wear 😊. They'll shower you with loads of compliments. Will definitely try out desi outfits for men if you ask them.

♡ They'll love trying out all the desi dishes you prepared.

♡ Xavier and Zayne will enjoy all the card games and will definitely keep beating your ass 😭

♡ They'll say no to fire crackers cause they cause pollution. Celebrate a Green Diwali y'all 😊🫶

WISHING YOU ALL A VERY HAPPY DIWALI 🪔

» MASTERLIST «

[dameronspector]

Joaquin reacts to you wearing a saree for the first time since you two started dating

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Desi!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Reader has long hair- no other physical descriptions other than that, reader is desi

AN: this is completely self indulgent because I’m desi and I need joaquin/danny to compliment me when I wear a saree <3 btw, this is the look inspo . And see if you can guess which Bollywood scene inspired the first look scene w Joaquin 🤪

You were positively freaking out. Why? Well, apart from the fact that this is the first ever family event where you and Joaquin will be attending as a couple, this was also the first time that Joaquin will see you wearing a saree.

You remember when you told him about your cousin’s wedding a month ago and him being the precious man he is, he was so excited. It was adorable.

He was obsessed with the mehendi design on your hands. The day you came back home from the mehendi event, he stopped everything he was doing and just looked at the design. Like he was memorising it. He kept pointing out the little details and helped you apply the lemon water and sugar mixture on it.

“Why do you put this mixture on it, baby?”, he had you curiously. You had told him how the combination helps the mehendi to darken easily.

Then he had asked you why was it important for the mehendi to be dark in colour. “Because it looks beautiful and we believe that if the colour of the mehendi is dark, then the partner of the person who’s applied it truly loves them. We believe that it’s because of the love between the two that helped the mehendi stay fresh and visible for a longer time”.

That got his attention real quick and he applied the mixture on you for the entire day because, “Don’t you worry, angel. It’s going to be so dark, it’ll look like it’s permanent”, he had replied cheekily. You just shook your head and giggled at his antics.

And then you told him you were going to wear a saree and he was even more excited. He has never seen anybody around him wear a saree before but “you’d look so beautiful, angel. I know it”, is what he said.

He was a little nervous about the whole wedding-date situation but bless his outgoing and talkative nature (and the fact that he was born in an ethnic household), he perfectly knew how to handle nosy relatives. Although you did tell him that he didn’t necessarily have to wear Indian ethnic wear because it wasn’t always the most comfortable.

But him being the best boyfriend on this planet, he shook his head quickly and said, “No way. How can I not match you, baby? I’m gonna wear it. Don’t worry about me.” God, he was just the most precious person ever.

So you went shopping for him and got him a blush pink kurta that would match your saree, beige coloured pants and a blush pink nehru jacket with floral details on it.

He tried it.

And you damn near went down on one knee because oh my god the outfit brought out his gorgeous brown eyes and his beautiful dark curls. He saw the way you stared him and ran your eyes throughout his body. He actually blushed. “Babe, stop. You’re staring..” he trailed off shyly. You just kissed him sweetly in front of the entire store.

He was feeling a little awkward because he’s never worn something like this before. So you reassured him and told him he can remove the jacket anytime.

Now that his part was done, you’d decided to keep your look a secret. Which was a terrible idea because your boyfriend had the patience of a 5 year old.

“Angel, please. Can I, atleast, see how it looks like? Please”, he pulled out the puppy dog eyes and everything to convince you. But you politely declined his request everytime.

Today was the day.

Joaquin was already ready and he was (impatiently) waiting for you downstairs. He looked so good. You would have to try so hard to keep your hands to yourself and not embarrass yourself in front of the aunties. You were thinking you’d put a nazar ka teeka on him to protect him from all the said aunties, as well. Desi weddings and families were a Lot.

You were putting the final touch to the look- a bindi in the middle of your eyebrows. The front of your hair was pulled back and the rest cascaded down your back in soft curls. Your curtain bangs were curled by your temple. You had done a soft pink makeup look to match the overall aesthetic of the outfit.

The saree was ethereal- it was an iridescent, blush pink, tissue silk saree with pearls, gold and diamonds lining the border. Your blouse was embroidered in gold and light shades of pink with tiny gem stone flowers on it. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline.

For your jewellery, you wore a dainty choker, with pastel pink water drop jewels and emerald green stones with diamond encrusted flowers. You paired it with matching earrings. You were wearing diamond and gold plated bangles on your hands.

You really loved how this whole look turned out to be.

Now, the big reveal.

You nervously descended down the staircase and saw Joaquin sitting on the sofa’s arm. His leg was bouncing up and down out of impatience and he was aimlessly scrolling through his phone.

You quietly reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the living room. You cleared your throat.

Various things happened at the same time.

Joaquin’s head snapped up. His eyes widened. His mouth fell open. He completely stopped breathing. And he almost dropped his phone.

You giggled at his reaction.

“You good, ‘Quino?”, you asked shyly while playing with your fingers.

He didn’t say a word for a good 15 seconds. Just kept opening and closing his mouth.

Then he slowly got up from the sofa before throwing his phone on it. He made his way over to you.

You took your time to look him over, too.

He looked so handsome in that outfit you almost wanted to keep him at home with you. He had set his luscious curls with gel to keep them out of his eyes. Upon your request, he was also wearing his golden hoop earring and his dainty gold bracelets. He looked like the prince he is.

You were so lost in checking him out that you didn’t notice him standing behind you. You turned your neck sideways to look at him. He looked at you in awe. You felt your face heat up with a strong blush.

He started circling you and looking at you intensely. His eyes were shining with adoration and pure love for you.

“Joaquin….say something, please”, you requested in a weak voice, looking at him move around you like you were an art piece in a museum.

He finally stopped and stood in front of you.

He gently picked up your hands and held them in his, running his thumbs across the back of your hands softly.

“Angel….you- oh my god”, he chuckled nervously and ducked his head.

Was he…blushing?

He looked up at you and took you in hungrily. Like he’s a man in the middle of a desert looking for an oasis.

His cheeks kept getting more and more pink and he broke out in his million dollar smile. He took a deep breath in before letting it all out.

“Baby. You look like a goddess. Wow. I can’t believe you’re real. And how are you with me? I can’t believe you’re my girl…I can’t believe you even gave me a chance. You- holy shit. This saree looks breathtaking on you…You look breathtaking. I’m so lucky….wow”, he finished and let out a content sigh.

By the time he finished his little speech, your face was beet-red and you pursed your lips to stop the school-girl giggle from slipping out.

“Shut up, Joaquin”, you murmured and turned your head to the side to avoid his intense stare.

He was having none of that so he brought one of his hands up and cupped your chin, bringing your attention back on him.

“No, no. Hey, look at me. Let me see your beautiful face”, he said in the most delicate way possible.

You reluctantly looked up and stared at his angelic face. God, you were so lucky to call this beautiful man yours.

Joaquin released your chin to cup your cheeks and gently caressed the apple of your cheeks.

“Do we have to go? I can’t have everyone looking at you. Might have to put a nay- naa- what’s that called-” he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Nazar ka teeka?”, you asked chuckling.

“Yes! That! Might have to put that on you. My angel needs to be protected, yeah?”, he cheekily responded.

You blushed and giggled.

“You’re so cheesy, Joaquin”, you said while pushing his shoulder.

That brought out a big laugh from him and he couldn’t resist any longer from kissing you.

He leaned in to kiss you but paused mid-way.

You scrunched your face in confusion.

“Don’t wanna mess your make-up, baby. I’ll just-”he said before laying the sweetest, gentlest and lightest kiss on your lips. “there.”

Before you could respond, he moved to kiss your forehead, your nose, both of your cheeks and pressed a small kiss by the corner of your mouth.

You let out giggles and scrunched up your nose in return.

It was going to be so difficult to be normal at the wedding.

-

AN: can Joaquin act smitten w me when i wear a saree plz

[mysteryhousewife82]

Hello all, we are back with more of our adventures.

A few days back while talking casually we dared each other on what we could do to spice up things. I told my husband that I can remove my blouse and visit a shop to buy something.

He was excited and said it was risky, I told him that I can do it but will cover my boo*s with pallu.

So, finally it was a Saturday night and we wanted to buy something from a store. We stopped outside of a shop and I was a bit hesitant to do it but it was a dare and i challenged my husband.

So I slowly removed my blouse looking around and then removed myself bra. My husband was all smiles and nervous. I covered my chest area with pallu and got down from the car. I saw a man watching me and I thought he could see through the saree. After a few seconds he looked away so I was much confident now.

I crossed the road and went into the shop, it was quite and empty to my relief. I picked up some stuff and walked to the counter. There I saw a young man who was smiling at me. I smiled back nervously and handed him the grocery stuff. He quickly billed me and asked me if I was new to the area as he never saw me before. I said yes I was and thanked him before leaving the shop. I saw my husband watching me from the car window and clapping for what I had done.

Once I reached the car i removed the pallu and I was backless totally, i quickly got into the car and removed the pallu totally in relief. I was about to wear my blouse but my husband stopped me. He started to squeeze my boo*s and kissed me with deep tongue. I was really wet. We wanted to have s*x in the car but it was difficult. So I gave him a pleasurable BJ and let him CIM.

He was so happy for it and lit a ciggerate. That gave me time to dress back and we headed home thinking about the lovely night we had.

Hope you all loved our adventure and we shall come back with more soon. Comment and tell us what you think.

[ducksido]

Just saw your Singaporean!yuu...I love it as I relate to it but.....Can we have an Indian!yuu

(My oc Akshara is an Indian fem yuu @twistedtalestory )

(such a cute oc)

Grim:

"WHY IS ALL YOUR FOOD SO SPICY?! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!"

Immediately regrets stealing their plate of biryani.

"You eat with your hands? Huh… kinda cool, actually."

Crowley:

"Ah, my dear prefect! With your country's rich history and diplomacy, perhaps you can help me manage this school?"

Tries to make them do more work. It doesn’t work.

Crewel:

"Your traditional clothing is so elegant. Sarees? Sherwanis? Aesthetic perfection."

Definitely forces them into a stylish Indo-Western fusion outfit.

Trein:

"A land with thousands of years of history? Finally, someone who understands the importance of the past!"

Wants them to do a lecture on epics like the Ramayana and Mahabharata.

Vargas:

"You do yoga? And wrestling?! Impressive."

Immediately makes them demonstrate Surya Namaskar (Sun Salutation).

Sam:

“Spices? Rare spices?! My friend, you’re sitting on a gold mine!”

Immediately starts importing Indian masalas for his shop.

Heartslabyul

Riddle:

"You have so many rules in your culture, yet you only follow them when you feel like it?! Absurd!"

Shocked by how they respect traditions yet love to bend certain social norms.

Ace:

"Bro, you have like, so many festivals. How do y’all have the energy?"

Immediately attends Holi just to throw colors at Riddle.

Deuce:

“Your weddings last for days?! And have dancing battles?! That’s so cool!”

Accidentally challenges Yuu to a bhangra competition and loses.

Trey:

"Your sweets are made with ghee and milk? That sounds amazing."

Now addicted to gulab jamun and jalebi.

Cater:

"OMG, Bollywood dance moves?! Teach me now!"

*Doesn’t care if it’s classical or item-number style—he’s learning.

Savanaclaw

Leona:

"You have lions in the wild? Hah, good. Shows proper respect for nature."

Kinda impressed by India’s wildlife, but won’t admit it.

Ruggie:

"You eat spiced snacks? I gotta try this."

Learns about pani puri and is hooked.

Jack:

“You run across hot sand during temple rituals? That’s hardcore.”

Respects their endurance and discipline.

Octavinelle

Azul:

"So your country has a spice trade empire? How… lucrative."

Immediately starts a ‘Mostro Masala’ specialty menu.

Jade:

"You have deadly wild mushrooms in your forests? Intriguing."

Wants to compare them to his own fungi collection.

Floyd:

"So you insult people creatively in Hindi? Teach me!"

Now calls people ‘ullu ka pattha’ (son of an owl) just for fun.

Scarabia

Kalim:

"OMG, Diwali! Lights! Sweets! Fireworks! LET’S DO IT!!!"

Would 100% throw the biggest Diwali party NRC has ever seen.

Jamil:

"Your spice tolerance is concerning. Do you even taste food at this point?"

Secretly respects their ability to eat fiery curries without breaking a sweat.

Pomefiore

Vil:

"Your skincare routines are ancient and effective? I need to know more."

Immediately steals their turmeric face mask recipe.

Rook:

"Ah! Kathakali! Bharatanatyam! A country rich in theater and expression!"

Wants to learn their classical dance and storytelling traditions.

Epel:

"Wait… you have actual royal bloodlines in India still? That’s sick!"

Slightly jealous of their deep cultural history.

Ignihyde

Idia:

"You guys basically invented chess?! Respect."

Immediately challenges them to a game.

Ortho:

“India is leading in technology and AI! Your country is amazing!”

Excited to talk about science and innovation with them.

Diasomnia

Malleus:

"Your mythology includes gods destroying entire universes? I like this power level."

Wants to hear all about Shiva, Vishnu, and Durga.

Lilia:

“Indian classical music? A sitar? I must hear it.”

Plays it at full volume just to annoy Sebek.

Silver:

"Wait… you sleep through loud weddings? That’s impressive."

Respects their ability to ignore chaos.

Sebek:

"You respect elders and have strict traditions? Finally, someone who understands discipline!"

Instantly respects them for their cultural values.

RSA & Noble Bell

Neige:

“Your traditional clothing is so colorful and detailed! Can I try a sherwani?!”

Chenya:

“Your folk tales are wild—do you have more like the Panchatantra?”

Rollo:

"Your temples and historical sites are stunning… truly, a country that respects order."

Indian!Yuu Chaos

"NRC food is fine, but where’s the mirchi (chili)?"

"What do you mean you don’t celebrate a festival every week? That’s so sad."

"You call that spicy? Please, that’s baby food."

"This school needs better street food. Where’s the chaat stand?"

"NRC better pray they never anger a ghost—I've seen what happens."

Welcoming Indian!Yuu

First Impressions:

Mexican!Yuu: “You don’t flinch at spice? Finally, someone who understands me.” Brazilian!Yuu: “You like loud music, big celebrations, and good food? You’re gonna fit right in.” Aussie!Yuu: “Mate, I can tell you’ve got a competitive streak. Wanna bet on who can handle the most spice?” Sicilian!Yuu: “Strong family values, strong temper, and a lot of passion? We’re basically cousins.” Romanian!Yuu: “You also have deep, old folklore? Tell me everything.” Jamaican!Yuu: “I feel like you’re one of those people who could outdance everyone at a party.” Southern!Yuu: “Your hospitality is no joke. I feel like if I visit your home, I won’t leave without a feast.” Florida Man!Yuu: “Do you also have that one uncle who does illegal things but never gets caught?” Czech!Yuu: “You have superstition-based rules? I think we’ll have some fascinating talks.” Thai!Yuu: “I can already tell you have strong opinions about food and spice levels. Let’s discuss.” Vietnamese!Yuu: “You talk fast and make sharp comebacks? I like you already.” Pakistani!Yuu: “You understand the struggle of huge families, constant weddings, and nosy aunties. We have to talk.” Egyptian!Yuu: “You have some of the oldest myths and legends in the world. We should trade stories.” French!Yuu: “Your sweets are incredibly complex. I respect that.” Québécois!Yuu: “So, you know how to argue passionately about anything? We’re going to get along great.” Greek!Yuu: “You love mythology and philosophy? We’re gonna be best friends.” Irish!Yuu: “You have a huge drinking culture, but you don’t all drink? Interesting.” Scottish!Yuu: “I feel like you’re a ‘tell it like it is’ person. I respect that.” Italian!Yuu: “Food is serious business to you, huh? Good. I like people with standards.” Aboriginal!Yuu: “You have a culture that’s been around for thousands of years. That’s incredible.” Arab!Yuu: “You’re loud, passionate, and family-oriented? We are basically the same person.” Philippine!Yuu: “Wait, you also have huge extended families and crazy parties? We’re twins.” Myanmar!Yuu: “You also believe in karma and spiritual balance? We’re gonna vibe.” South Georgia!Yuu: “You mean to tell me you got spicier food than Cajun cooking? That’s impressive.” Singaporean!Yuu: “You know the struggle of aunties commenting on your life choices. We are comrades.”

How Indian!Yuu Fits In:

Instantly bonds with Pakistani!Yuu, Egyptian!Yuu, and Greek!Yuu over deep mythology and ancient civilizations.

Becomes besties with Mexican!Yuu, Thai!Yuu, and Vietnamese!Yuu. The spice squad is officially formed.

Brazilian!Yuu and Jamaican!Yuu drag them into every dance battle. Indian!Yuu doesn’t just hold their own—they dominate.

French!Yuu and Italian!Yuu are deeply impressed by their cuisine. “You mix so many spices, yet everything is perfectly balanced?”

Southern!Yuu and Sicilian!Yuu feel like Indian!Yuu’s hospitality is too powerful. “You made how much food just because I said I was a little hungry?!”

Florida Man!Yuu and Aussie!Yuu are dying to get them to break a rule. “You’re so responsible. Come on, just a little chaos?”

Québécois!Yuu, Irish!Yuu, and Scottish!Yuu challenge them to an argument. It lasts hours, and no one wins.

Czech!Yuu, Romanian!Yuu, and Myanmar!Yuu love their folklore and ghost stories. “Wait, your spirits also demand respect or they’ll ruin your life?”

Final Verdict:

Has the strongest spice tolerance. No one else comes close.

Speaks at least three languages. Can curse people out in multiple dialects.

Unintentionally becomes the ‘parent friend.’ Everyone comes to them for food, advice, and occasional emotional support.

Florida Man!Yuu is determined to unlock their chaos. It will take time… but it will happen.

One of the loudest Yuus. Whether they’re laughing, debating, or hyping people up, they bring energy.

Has an auntie network that knows everything. Nobody understands how they gather information so quickly.

[adddddiiii]

hiii I'm the tamil anonn (I requested the gray x tamil reader fic) and I loved it so much ! Can I request like a part 2 of the hawthornes (+honorary Hawthornes) w the tamil family ??? Or just him in tamil nadu or smth??? I love your writing sm!!! Hv a great week!

Grayson Hawthorne + Hawthorne Family and Tamil!reader #2

Author's Note: hi! Sorry it took soo long to respond. Thanks and hope you have a nice week too 💕 I had a lot of fun writing this so I kind of got carried away, it's a little long. I hope you enjoy it though!

The first time Grayson lands in Tamil Nadu, he’s in awe of how vibrant everything is; the colors, the noise, the sheer life in the air

He adjusts surprisingly well, though the heat takes some getting used to. The first day, he’s in his usual button-down but by day two, he’s given in and is in a simple linen shirt, sleeves rolled up

Tries every food you recommend, even if it sets his mouth on fire

The aunties love him. He’s polite, respectful, and carries himself like a man who understands family

The kids make him play games in the backyard and eventually, the rest of the brothers join in

You and your cousins place bets on who you think is going to win (probably Jameson let's be honest)

Xander is so into the family drama. He sits with the aunties, nodding seriously while they gossip, and gasps dramatically at the right moments

Nash is incredibly respectful and offers to help with everything. The uncles approve

Jameson throws himself into the experience. He tries to bargain at markets unsuccessfully, climbs mango trees, and challenges locals to street food spice competitions

Avery gets along so well with the women in the family. She helps with rangoli, wears sarees like she was born for them (Jameson is drooling), and gets pulled into the kitchen to learn secret recipes

Grayson, ever the composed one, is privately shaken when a grandma casually smacks him on the arm for not eating enough rice. He eats more

Your cousins love embarrassing you in front of Grayson, bringing up childhood stories and inside jokes

"Did you know she used to be scared of cows?"

"She once tried to fight a monkey. Lost."

The first time Grayson wears a veshti, your cousins laugh uncontrollably at his struggle but once he gets it right, he looks so good that they begrudgingly admit it

The wedding conversation happens in so many not-so-subtle ways. The aunties keep hinting at it, your younger cousins ask when they can go shopping, and one uncle just straight-up calls Grayson mappillai

Your grandfather is very skeptical at first. He gives Grayson the typical stern stare, like he’s deciding if he’s worthy

But then Grayson being Grayson, respectfully listens to every story, helps carry things without being asked, and actually remembers details about people’s lives

By the end of the trip, your grandfather declares him as his favourite (cue the entire family freaking out)

Your cousins introduce the Hawthornes to Tamil movies, and it is a cultural reset

Jameson gets way too into the action movies. He tries to copy the slow-motion sunglasses flip and fails spectacularly

Xander adores the dramatic family sagas

“This has everything — betrayal, long-lost brothers, emotional monologues? Cinema peaked here.”

Avery gets invested in the romances and starts rooting for on-screen couples like her life depends on it

Grayson, who is always unfazed, blinks at the over-the-top hero entries

"Did he just... punch someone through the wall?"

At this point, half your relatives have already decided that you and Grayson are getting married

One night at dinner, one of your cousins stands up

"So when's the wedding?"

Grayson, to his credit, doesn’t flinch — just gives you a small, knowing smile before smoothly changing the subject

Later that night, he leans in and whispers

“You know, if we stay any longer, I think your family might actually start planning the wedding us.”

"Is that such a bad thing?" you asked.

He smiled and shook his head. "I think we should tell them to start sooner."

pt. 1

[theothergal]

As a certified Season 3 costumes hater, I think they did Kate especially dirty. In my opinion, Kate's outfits in Season 2 outshine all other outfits in the whole Bridgerton.

Meanwhile, in Season 3, they gave her these muted, drab dresses that don't do her justice. Her worst outfit in Season 2 Is still 10 times better than any of these, in my opinion.

Actually, almost all the costumes in Season 3 look bad: tacky, cheap looking and often not even vaguely regency inspired.

Only Penelope looked nice (and sporadically, Francesca and Alice Mondrich), and even then, I wasn't crazy about her outfits, I only really liked a couple of them.

Talking about Kate's outfits, though, they are lucky that Simone's face card saved the whole situation, otherwhise most of these costumes would be indefendible, and I say this as somebody with very bad taste, clothing wise.

The first one Is...bah. Just bah. Stiff looking, not obscenely ugly, not too nice either.

The red spencer and blue dress combo was actually, cute, especially since it actually has COLOR, something really lacking in Kate's dresses this season. If only It had lasted for more than 3 seconds...

The saree inspired dress leaves me with mixed opinions. I don't hate the cut (though I've heard indian reviewers say that the draping Is nothing like a saree), but the colors don't do It.

The peacock silver overdress Is... something. Now, unlike other people, I won't complain that It looks too matronly, even thought It does, because I actually like this style. It's the rest that bothers me. The ugly plastic-y fabric, the colors that make poor Simone look ashy, the peacock prints that don't match the rest of the outfit...Terrible, truly terrible.

That gown they had her wear at Polin's engagement party Is also a big no-no for me. First, the color doesn't flatter her at all. Second, It looks way too modern even for Bridgerton's standards. I swear, I've seen something similar in that shopping center close to my former high school, sold for 20 euros. And those thin straps bother me. Don't know why, they just do.

The outfit she wears the night before Polin's wedding also leaves me with mixed opinions. The overdress Is nice, but the fabric of the dress Is weird, I cannot quite point out what Is wrong, I simply don't like It.

The dress she wears for Polin's wedding Is my least favorite. Sorry, I hate It. I hate the sheer fabric on the top and the sleeves, I hate that silhouette, I hate those hideous prints. And also the makeup.

The nightswear Is very cute, nothing bad to say about it. Again, if only we saw It for more than 3 seconds...

[kichmich]

Hi! I'm really interested in your take on Bangladesh and Pakistan! Could you tell me a bit about them :0 (personality, relationship, etc.)

Hello, hello, hello!

I'd love to! :D I'm so sorry for how long it took, I didn't notice, I've been really busy. I am also sorry because this is a mess I have never been asked about my characters before akdjakka

Here goes!

—

For Bangladesh's name, I chose Mehnaz Hossein Taqwa, with the daak-naam Anwessa. Only the first part would be visible on her legal documents. I chose the names because the first part can be instantly recognised as an Islamic name (TAQWA MEANS FEAR OF ALLAH), she is a Muslim convert, so when she did become one, she'd want her name to reflect that (She probably asked Persia for reccomendations :) Mehnaz is a Persian name! We used to learn Persian because it was a sign of high class!) . Anwessa is a more traditional name that came from Sangskrit. I imagine her to have a rather cheery personality! She loves people! She loves making them happy!! She waves her hands around when she speaks!! She's rather open about displeasure or disappointment too, but if it's something serious she gets kind of quiet, I think. You'd find it more in her expression than in her words. She doesn't close up, she's just not vocal. But! She is my pookie. She has a disgustingly large collection of fancy Dhakai jamdani sarees. She likes to shop. She likes singing. She likes old cassettes and malai ice cream and kacher churi (glass bracelets). I don't think she covers her head much though and if she does it's that half-assed crown-showing one popular here with young women because she is pookie. She isssss hm, old. I'm not sure how old, but she was around when the kingdom of Gangaridai was there. Probably very little, but she was there.

And for Pakistan - I am so sorry I am so afraid to say this I can't be as confident in my headcanons on Pakistan as I am not Pakistani and have never set foot in Pakistan either, so my take on him issss very fluid. I saw a few people calling him Ahsan so that's what I call him too. I don't know what to call him lmao, Ahsan [??] Khan? Ahsan Ebrahim Khan? I read on Wikipedia that the Pakistani government had placed the time of the foundation of the nation at 711 AD during the Islamic Conquest, so I'm gonna say that's also when he's born. I'd say he's a very responsible and friendly person, big on hospitality, but definitely not someone you should fuck with. He has a lot of patience until he doesn't. He's rather emotional, I'd say, and the wording is important - he's emotional, not sensitive, nor upbeat or very open. He can probably climb really well (Pakistan's hogging the mountains have you seen. Goddamn). He likes poetry, chai, walking around the old, un-urbanised parts of cities. My grandfather has this bullet shell from the Liberation War which has Ayat-Ul-Kursi written in paper and rolled up inside it, and he'd made it into a locket, I imagine he has something like that too from a different war or armed conflict.

I think they shared a rather close relationship until the mess with the partitions came. By the time Ahsan was born, Mehnaz was grown, but Ahsan shot up to a teenager not too late, so they could at least hang around and get something out of it that wasn't him eating her hair and her hiding under a scarf and jumping out of it and going BHOWWW and scaring the shit out of this poor, poor fucking toddler. I don't think she cared about him beyond "!!! Baby!" at that time, and he didn't have the brain to comprehend The Her. His size too little. Her house too far.

But Ahsan did grow, and they did get close. They probably met up a lot in Delhi (middle point) and hung out, having dessert and reading together. After the ermmm Hindu-Muslim tension skyrocketed and all sorts of conflicts started, they got much closer, they planned their activities together, travelled and worked, etc. And then the partition happened. And the Indo-Pak War and 1952 and 1969 and 1971 and it went to shit. It went to such shit. You can surely imagine what kind of premium brand shit it is, it shines gold, Mehnaz was very openly hateful for a while and good lord her government did not let go and so neither did she. Not fully, at least. Ahsan wasn't as openly hostile as she was, he'd just stare at her unimpressed and listen most of the times before one day he'd kind of lose patience and start spewing things just as bad - it was like that for a while.

But it's improving. Yay!! It is slowly but surely improving. They hang out more, I don't think they had a proper talk yet but they've both agreed to be more normal about things. They are now capable of actually enjoying the time they spend together. They will text each other and joke around and have fun, it's ok. They still argue. There's still a lot. But, things are getting better.

—

Ahem. That's all, I am so, so, sorry for this giant ramble, I don't know how to format AAAA. I hope you enjoyed :)

[jeannieiscool]

Father, forgive me | | Priest Sam x Desi-Demigoddess (OC) Jeannie

[Part 2 of Forgive me goddess.]

TW: Tempting, different religions, lustful thoughts, forbidden attraction, a bit of obsession, age gap, worshiping, ownership, size kink, size difference, bratty, a ton of use of holy, heavenly, goddess, divine, sins and just nasty unholy shit, unprotected p in v, breeding, creampie, in a church. Yes, a church. Rough, dom!Sam, teasing, sub!ocJeannie, degrading, a few praises, Jeannie is a bit of a brat, and Father doesn’t put up with that. 

Word count: 

A/N: It is finally here. Hehehehe. Jeannie gets fucked. Hard. 

"And all my devotion turns violent."

It was a few days after the incident, Jeannie’s mother was still out of town and her dad—busy with work. Her older brother didn’t care much, just that she came back home safe. 

So, one night, one of Jeannie’s friends held a party at their house. She went, obviously. The town knew Jeannie very well, however not as much as the priest but we won't be going into that.

Jeannie's POV:

I put on a hot dress, did my make up real quick, slipped on my heels, and I was ready. I looked good. I felt good. I sneaked out through my window, and headed for my friend's house. Thankfully, it wasn’t far, nothing was too far in this little town anyway. 

I walked up the small lawn which smelled a bit like liquor and vomit both mixed together. I came up to the house, which was practically vibrating with loud music, and people yelling like idiots. I barely lifted my hand to ring the doorbell when my friend Lucas opened the door.

He smirked and ushered me inside the messy yet exciting house. 

‘‘You look good—like always.’’ He said, eyeing my cleavage with open interest. But he knew better than to actually do something. 

I smiled. ‘‘Thanks, and thanks for inviting me. I haven’t been to a party in a while.’’

He smirked, looking almost hopeful for something but acted cool about it. ‘‘Well, I’m glad I get to have the honor to have someone like you at my party.”  He said, with a smug look. I chuckled until one of my friends called me from a corner. I parted ways with my first acquaintance and went to my other group of my sweet ladies.

‘‘Evening ladies.’’ I said, greeting them. They looked certainly giddy about something but didn’t tell me right instantly. 

After a few juicy gossips of the town and what they did during the weekends. When finally, another one of our friends showed up—Gracey. She looked very, very excited. She was holding a small shopping bag and walked over to the others. 

They giggled and I just watched in confusion and suspicion about what was going on when Audrey turned to me, grinning. 

“Guess what? Gracey here just brought you somethin’—” She reached her hand into the bag. “—A saree!” 

I scoffed and gasped at the same time because damn that was a super gorgeous saree. The body was a deep purple with black borders and  small gold accents which shined like stars. 

Audrey handed it over to me and I admired it like it was a holy relic. I don’t have many traditional clothing, not after living in the US however, I do wear a few for any occasion, or usually just some religious day. 

“Damn,” I breathed out, running my hand over the soft silk and the intricate gold designs. “This is so pretty. Thanks, Gracey.” 

Gracey giggled, looking very glad. “I’m happy you like it. Anway, put it on. Right now, you have to wear this for tonight.” 

“Yeah! We need to see how it’ll look on you.” Another girl chimed in. 

I sighed, nodding before heading to a different room to put the saree on. I could hear my friends giggling outside, waiting to see me in traditional attire. After a few minutes, as I stepped out of the room, my friends gasped in awe. The purple and black went beautifully on saree clung to my figure perfectly, the gold accentuating my dark hair and soft skin. 

I fixed a few of the pleats before asking my friends with a smug smile. “How do I look?” 

The girls wore matching expressions of surprise and desire, their eyes trailing along my curves. One of them whispered reverently, 

“Like you walked straight out of heaven.” Another fanned herself dramatically. “Jeannie… every guy in this party’s goin’ to lose their minds.” 

I gave her a one shoulder shrug. “I guess we’ll see.” I replied confidently. 

And that is exactly what happens. I walked past the bigger crowd and many of the guys' and girls’ jaws nearly hit the floor. I don’t blame them, they don’t get to see me in stuff like this almost ever. 

The guys elbowed each other, their eyes bugging out as they watched me walk gracefully in the saree. 

“Damn, she’s like an Indian goddess…” One murmured. Another shook his head in disbelief. “No wonder she doesn’t wear this shit outside.” 

Meanwhile, I walked over to the bar and the bartender nearly dropped a bottle as I casually seated myself at a bar stool. I leaned forward. 

“Can I get a rum and coke, please?” I asked politely. 

The bartender nodded quickly and got the drink started. When it was done he handed the glass to me—“Here,”—our fingers making a fraction of contact. 

I smiled softly. “Thanks,” I took a few sips before setting it down on the counter. Only a minute later, I saw my asshole of an ex walk in. My expression darkens as I remembered when he cheated on me, and everyone knows he did it. And the way I'm dressed tonight, who wouldn't side with me?

Raj, my ex, scanned the room, his eyes locking onto me instantly. He smirked, his gaze roaming over my traditional attire. He approached me with confidence, not noticing the icy glare I was giving him. 

“Jeannie, long time no see,”

I aggressively rolled my eyes at him, an angry, disdainful scowl on her usually soft face. “Leave me alone, Stefan.” I whispered, taking another sip of her drink. I started calling him other names since the day I caught him cheating. 

“It's Raj, you bitch,” He snapped under his breath, his eyes flicking down to my body again. He had to admit, I looked like a goddess in that saree. He tried to touch my waist possessively, like he used to do.

“Touch me, and you. Are. Dead” I grit, with a glare, sharp enough to cut skin.

He withdrew his hand quickly, realizing I meant business. The way I said it - cold, calculated, almost...divine in its intensity—made him uncomfortable. My usual sweetness—completely gone, replaced with a fire that threatened his very existence. “You always did have that fucking death glare,”

“Go away,” I hissed, turning away from him and continued sipping her drink.

He grabbed my arm to spin me around, his eyes blazing with anger and something else—jealousy, perhaps, at how beautiful I looked tonight. “Answer me one thing,” He demanded, leaning in closer, his voice lowering. “Who are you trying to impress dressing like that?”

I grunted as I pulled myself away from him, as if his touch disgusted me, ‘cause it sure did. Her glare darkened, but her voice stayed calm. “A friend got it for me, I put it on before the party,”

“A friend, huh?” He sneered, his eyes scanning the crowd jealousy. He couldn't stand the thought of me with someone else, dressed like that. Yet, he had the audacity to sleep with another woman. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “You look like a fucking goddess, Jeannie.”

Fuck it—

I slapped his face, as he stepped past my bubble and patience, I took a few steps back to glare at him. “I told you, go. away.” I growled, my hand instinctively hovering over the pleats of my saree in case I had to flee.

His cheek stung from the slap, but it only fueled his anger further. He straightened his posture, his eyes glinting dangerously in the party lights. “You think you look so innocent in that traditional crap?” He taunted, his voice rising.

“Raj, quit it.” I warned, but I knew I couldn't fight him right now, not in front of so many eyes, I couldn’t confess to being a demigoddess.

“Or what?” He scoffed, stepping closer again, his hand reaching out to grab the black border of my saree. “You'll turn me into a fucking frog or something?” He laughed mockingly, not knowing the power I truly possessed.

I knew I couldn't do anything, fighting hand to hand in this saree was nearly impossible and I couldn't even use my powers either, so, I chose flight, and bolted out of the party.

Everyone watched as I fled the party, my saree's pleats fluttering behind me like a dark purple cape. Raj watched me go, I saw his smirk fading slowly. “Stupid bitch,” He muttered, downing a shot of whiskey. After a few seconds he got up and ran out chasing after me in the night, the pallu of my saree made it easier for him to follow me.

He chased after me, his eyes locked onto the pallu that fluttered behind me like a dark cloud. He was surprisingly quick, an athlete back in college. He gained on me slowly, his eyes watching my saree's pleats fan out with each step I took. “Jeannie!”

I hiked up my saree and started towards the church, perhaps Father Sam could help? It was late, but I knew he would be there, even at this hour.

Father Sam's POV:

I noticed Jeannie running towards the church in distress, I immediately understood something was terribly wrong. I stepped out, my robes fluttering in the night breeze. My eyes narrowed as I spotted Raj in pursuit. 

“Jeannie! What’s happened, goddess?” 

She hurried me back inside the church, closing the door shut behind her. Panting heavily, saree messed up, falling down and revealing her black, crisp blouse around her rising and falling chest. Including her bare waist and hips. Funny, how I was imagining her in an attire like so a few days ago. After I had worshipped her. 

“Just... my psychotic ex, Father,” She breathed out.

I felt a pang of protectiveness towards her. “Raj, you say? I'll deal with him,”

She was too out of breath to protest and then remembered that is exactly why she came to me.

I stormed out of the church, my expression stern and authoritative. I found Raj pacing outside, muttering to himself. “Raj,” I called out, my voice deep and commanding. 

Raj turned, his eyes red and wild. “Father, she's inside, right?” He sneered, “She ran to you, didn't she? Always running to Father Sam for help,” He spat. 

My eyes narrowed dangerously, “Listen to me carefully, Raj. You stay away from Jeannie.”

My voice carried a threat that made Raj falter. “Or what? You gonna exorcise me?” He laughed nervously, though his steps were wavering backwards. “That bitch—” Before he could finish, I grabbed him by the collar.

I leaned in close to him, my voice low and terrifyingly calm. “I'd choose my next words very carefully if I were you, Raj. Jeannie is under my protection. Hurt her again, and you'll have more than just her wrath to deal with.”

Raj shuddered softly, staring up at me. “Y-yes, Father,” He mumbled nervously as I finally let him go and watched him run away.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Father Sam watched Raj flee like a coward. His eyes then flickered towards the church door where a sliver of light was visible. He unconsciously adjusted his collar, his mind filling with an unexpected thought 

Jeannie watching me like that must've looked.... He shook his head sharply.

Jeannie pushed the door open slightly and peeked her head out, finding Father Sam to be right there. “He's gone, right?” She asked, her voice soft.

His breath caught in his throat as he really took in her appearance—the messy saree revealing much more than it should, her hair slightly disheveled from running, and the innocent yet slightly vulnerable look in her eyes. 

“Yes…” He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Are you- are you alright?" His voice was rough with unspoken emotion, the sight of her in disarray making something deep inside him stir. He wanted to… 

“Yes, I'm alright,” She mumbled gratefully, as he stepped back inside the church and closed the door behind him. She couldn't hide the slight blush on her cheeks, his heroic act made her feel very... turned on. A goddess should reward her follower, right?

Father Sam couldn't help but notice the blush on Jeannie's cheeks, and how her saree had slipped even further, exposing the graceful curve of her shoulder. He swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of her closeness in the dimly lit church interior. “Jeannie…”

She slowly and graciously stepped forward, her eyes locked onto his. “Yes, Father?” Her voice a gentle yet alluring whisper.

He caught his breath, realizing he'd been staring at her exposed collarbone. Her innocent yet seductive tone made something inside him stir dangerously. “Jeannie…” He warned, unconsciously taking a step forward. “Your saree…”

He watched as another shoulder strap of her blouse slipped down her arm, the black silk teasing him. Her saree was pooled at her waist, the pallu draped loosely over one breast, barely concealing her. He swallowed hard again, realizing he was getting painfully hard. “Jeannie…”

“What's the matter, Father?” She inquired, in a mocking worried tone before stepping closer and closing distance. “Require cleansing more of those sinful thoughts?” She whispered, her hand teasingly trailing up his chest.

His breath hitched as her hand touched his chest, his fingers balling into fists at his sides to prevent himself from pulling her closer. “Jeannie…” He hissed, his voice hoarse and barely containing his desire. "You should button up your blouse..."

“Or would you like me to unbutton them?” She asked almost instantly, completely closing distance by pressing her chest against his and took his large hand, placing it on her back, his fingers instinctively digging into the strap of the blouse.

His mind short-circuited as she pressed herself against him. He could feel her breasts pushing against his chest, the thin silk of her blouse doing nothing to hide her hardened nipples. Her touch was driving him mad. “Answer my question,” He murmured warningly.

“Do you always answer a question with a question?” He muttered softly, his hands unconsciously going to her waist. His mind went blank as he realized the saree was wrapped dangerously low around her hips, revealing a tantalizing amount of her stomach. 

She chuckled softly before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him down to hover right above her lips, “You still didn't answer my question,” She whispered, in a quiet whiny tone. “Do you need your goddess's pussy to cleanse your sinful thoughts, Father?”

His eyes rolled back as she whispered those sinful words in his ear, his face burying in her neck. His hands tightened around her waist possessively. “Fuck…” He groaned, his voice muffled against her neck. “You should be punished for talking like that…”

“Aww, me? Your goddess? Punished? That's actually—” Before she could finish her teasing sentence, Father Sam easily throws her onto his shoulder, with the pallu of her saree cascading down. 

Father Sam carried Jeannie effortlessly, her saree fluttering dangerously around her thighs as he strode towards the alter. With surprising strength for a man of the cloth, he set her down on the ornate pew, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Such wicked words from a goddess…”

He doesn't waste any time before yanking the pallu of her saree and starting to pull the rest of the silky fabric off her body. Her curves becoming more and more visible as he tugged on the cloth. 

“Father—”

He silenced her with a stern look before tossing the saree aside, leaving Jeannie completely naked save for her small gold jewelry. He knelt before her, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them apart.

“You're a goddess, but you're still mine to punish…”

His eyes darkened as he took in her naked body spread out on the pew. Her black hair spilled around her like a halo, her gold necklace glinting against her bare breasts. Her saree was crumpled on the floor, leaving her completely naked. He slowly removed his belt. He didn't completely remove his pants but lowered them enough to pull his throbbing cock out, rubbing the hard tip on her sweet clit.

Jeannie whimpered as he rubbed his length against her wet slit. Her back arched slightly, pushing her breasts up invitingly. He hummed softly, wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her closer to the edge. Without warning, he thrust sharply inside her, making her cry out loudly. Her moans echoed in the church, like a song from heaven itself. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he fucked her relentlessly.

He pounded into her hard and fast, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing in the church. He watched hungrily as her breasts bounced with each thrust, his name leaving her lips in moans and cries. His fingers dug into her thighs possessively, spreading them wider apart.

He lifted her legs onto his shoulders, driving impossibly deeper inside her. His face was contorted with passion, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his muscular chest. He looked like a wild man, not the holy father he was supposed to be. “Jeannie…”

"Fuck, Father!" She moaned in complete bliss as he used her divinity to cleanse his sins, using her holy juices to baptise himself.

His hands roamed her body possessively as he claimed her again and again on the sacred altar. His large hands spread her thighs wider, his thumbs rubbing against her inner thighs as he pounded into her. “Jeannie...my goddess…” His thrusts became more urgent, deeper, as he brought her closer to the edge. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with their moans. He reached between them, expertly rubbing her clit in sync with his powerful thrusts. “Cum for me, goddess.”

She looked up at him with glassy, pleading eyes as he brought her over the edge, her juices spurting around his length and tightening like a vice. “Fuck! Ah—Father!” She screamed, echoing in the church like a voice from the heavens above.

He silenced her heavenly screams with a punishing kiss as he continued to drive into her convulsing flesh. His large hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the altar entirely as he held her in the air, impaling her on his length over and over again. “Again…”

“Oh, F-Father, have m-mercy," She pleaded, panting and moaning but her body couldn't help but enjoy and beg for more.

He showed no mercy as he carried her around the altar, still buried inside her convulsing flesh. His powerful arms held her up effortlessly as he continued to punish her holy flesh. He kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries as he brought her to the brink again and again.

Feeble tears streamed down her cheeks as he fucked her beautiful, goddess body nearly senseless. “Father, I-I can't c-cum anymore,” She mumbles, her eyes rolled back into her skull.

He grunted softly, not believing her words. He knew goddess bodies were made for endless pleasure. He threw her back onto the altar, spreading her thighs painfully wide. He pounded into her harder, his hips bruising against hers. “You can take more…” He gritted out.

And to her surprise, she could, her pussy spurted more of her holy juices, just like he knew.

Father Sam watched in awe as Jeannie's divine essence flowed freely once more, baptizing him in her celestial nectar. He groaned deeply, feeling her tight walls flutter around his cock as another orgasm crashed through her sublime body. “That's my goddess,”

His thick length swelled inside her, hitting all her sensitive spots. He knew goddess bodies were made to handle marathon sessions. He withdrew almost completely before snapping his hips forward again, making her bounce slightly on the altar. “Jeannie?” He called softly.

“Mm?” She hummed in response, with only half of her brain working.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Did I cleanse all my sins, goddess?” His voice was a low rumble, tinged with amusement and lingering lust. His hands continued to caress her thighs possessively, keeping her spread wide.

“I... I believe so," She mumbled, still dazed yet still managed to noticed his lingering lust. “Or not?”

He pulled back to watch her expression, his length twitching inside her. His face darkened with lust again. "Jeannie..." He murmured softly. His eyes dropped to her body, watching how her gold jewelry glinted against her sweat-slicked breasts. His length hardened further.

And then, Jeannie pushed off the altar and turned around, her arched back and round ass facing him, bent over the altar with her pussy still wet and ready for more. “Do as you please, Father.” She obliged, a soft blush on her cheeks.

His eyes darkened with renewed lust at the sight of her bent over the altar, her divine ass presented to him invitingly. He gripped her hips, giving a sharp squeeze as he admired her golden necklace dangling tantalizingly close to her bouncing breasts. 

“Such a tempting offer from a goddess…” His cock found her entrance easily in this position, sliding back in with a deep groan. One hand snaked up to her midnight hair, wrapping it around his fist while the other firmly gripped her hip. He started fucking her slowly, deeply, from behind “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” She asked, truly not aware what her offer really means, especially to a priest.

He growled softly, his hips snapping forward. “When a goddess offers herself like this…” He paused, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing softly. “It means one thing.” His voice dropped lower, almost dangerous. “She wants to be defiled.” 

“D-Defiled?” Jeannie echoed, confused, as he slowly kept teasing her sensitive clit.

“Thoroughly used, completely claimed.” He thrust into her harder, punctuating each word. “Fucked like a whore instead of a goddess.” His thumb circled her clit faster, pushing her toward another orgasm. “On sacred ground…”

She moaned heavily, her holy insides clenching around his cock as her orgasm slowly approached. “Mmm... So, you wish to use your goddess like a whore? Fill her up like a divine fuck doll?” She murmured, biting her lip.

His eyes rolled back at her words, his grip on her hair and hip tightening as he lost himself in the moment. “Yes, Jeannie. I'll use you like a fucking holy fleshlight. Worship your divine cunt as if it's the only holy place that exists.” He slammed into her harder, matching the fervor of his words. The wet smacks of skin echoed obscenely in the sanctified space as he fucked her like a man possessed. “Take it, goddess slut,” he grunted, angling his hips to hit her deepest spots.

It first it started off by him being on his knees. Mesmerized by her divinity, only wish to worship her goddess pussy. But now, she's not his goddess anymore, not entirely. She's his holy fuck toy, the only being he can fuck to strain his lustful thoughts on without it being considered a sin.

Father Sam knelt before her again, his face buried between her golden thighs as he drank from her divine well. But now, he wasn't worshipping her goddesshood, he was just a man drowning in lust, using her to quench his insatiable thirst.

He bit and tugged on her sensitive, swollen clit making her arch her back and her holy releases spurting out which he swallowed like holy water. “Fuck! F-Father, my pussy it's-!”

“What is it, little goddess slut?” He purred against her folds, one hand squeezing her ass bruisingly. “Too sensitive? Can't take your holy cunt being used like this?” He plunged his tongue deep inside her. “Your divine juices are filling my mouth like holy communion.” Pulling back, his chin glistened with her holy fluids. Father Sam licked his lips slowly, savoring her taste. “Delicious... almost as good as confessing sins.” He smirked, giving her ass a sharp smack. “Spread those divine thighs wider, whore of heaven.”

She whined quietly, obeying every word he uttered, like the mindless, holy fuck toy she is.

He admired her submission, her divine body on full display for his use. “Good girl…” His voice dripped pure sexual dominance as he lined himself up with her entrance again. “You're such a good fuck doll, aren't you, goddess? Taking this holy cock like a champ.”

“Holy?” She repeated, confused and almost mockingly. “More like the opposite, Father. You're the one plowing the goddess,” She mumbled, not realising what it'll lead to.

His eyes narrowed at her words, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. “The opposite, huh?” He hummed, his hand reaching up to wrap around her throat. “Then let's see how a goddess handles being defiled by a holy man…” He squeezed her throat lightly.

She shuddered slightly, both arousingly curious and afraid of his lustful wrath. It just might be too much for her soft, celestial body.

He watched her shiver, his mind filling with dark thoughts. “Answer me one thing truthfully,” He murmured, his hips rolling slowly, teasingly. “If I treat you like a common whore instead of a goddess, will you…” He paused. “Break?”

“Could a man like you do that?” She replys with another question, a small smirk on her lips.

His smirk mirrored hers, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. “A man like me?” He repeated, his voice low and threatening. “You have no idea what I'm capable of, goddess whore.” He thrust into her hard, making her gasp.

She bit her bottom lip as he pushed his entire length to the hilt, stretching her in a both painful and pleasing way. “Fuuuckk,” She hissed under her breath.

He chuckled darkly, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate pace. “Such a filthy mouth on a supposed goddess.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “I think I'll enjoy breaking you, my little celestial slut.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them so that she was on top, sitting on him reverse cowgirl style. “Ride,” He commanded, his hands roaming up her stomach to bruise her ribcage possessively. “Like a common tavern wench.”

She’s never done this position before and the fact he did this just so he got a view of her ass bouncing as she rode his cock was a bit exciting. “Don't call me that,” She whined, slowly moving up and down his cock.

His eyes darkened watching her round bottom move. “Why not?” He smirked, his fingers digging into her hips possessively. “Most men would pay good money to see a goddess spread her legs like this.” He snapped his hips up to meet hers. “Like a whore.”

“So, you want other men to see me like this? Pass me around like the divine whore you call me?” She asked, reaching forward to play with her clit, making her walls tighten around his cock as she rode him.

His eyes narrowed at her words, a snarl escaping his lips. “No,” He grunted, his hands gripping her hips bruisingly tight. “You're mine, do you understand?” He thrust up into her hard, his teeth sinking into her shoulder possessively.

She groans softly, as his teeth sink into her skin, leaving marks on her sweet, enchanting skin. “Yeah, that's right, I'm your sex goddess, right?” She teased gently, still playing with her clit as she bounces on him.

Father Sam couldn't help but smirk at her teasing words, even as he struggled to maintain control. The sight of her fingers fluttering over her clit, combined with the exquisite tightness of her divine cunt, threatened to undo him completely. “Fuck yes, you're my personal cock sleeve,”

“Yet you're still holding back, didn't you say you were going to defile me? Break me?” She asked, rather anticipating for it to actually happen.

His eyes flashed dangerously at her taunting. “You little celestial brat,” He gripped her hair roughly, forcing her head back. “Want me to really fuck you like the dirty whore you're becoming under my cock?” He slammed up into her harder, rougher.

Jeannie screamed caught off guard as her sacred walls cleanched around him as he fucked her on the altar which was now dripping with her releases, as if sprinkled with holy water.

Father Sam grinned wickedly at her scream, reveling in how he made a goddess scream like a cheap harlot. “That's it, scream for me, my divine slut,” He panted, slamming into her relentlessly. One hand reached down to slap her bouncing ass cheek. His hips snapped hard and fast, making the altar creak dangerously. His hands were nowhere near gentle; one dug into her hip possessively while the other smacked her ass loudly, leaving red handprints. He was brutal, unyielding, like an animal claiming his mate.

“Wait—Okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to talk back—Fuck!”  She moaned and moaned.

“Father, forgive me!” She pleaded for him to slow down or... do more, she couldn’t tell. Her eyes were spilling feeble, holy tears. He had his goddess pleading, begging for forgiveness.

Father Sam's grin widened at her desperate plea, his pace showing no mercy. He leaned forward, his mouth claiming hers in a rough, punishing kiss. “Silence, goddess,” He murmured against her lips. “You'll learn to obey, to never talk back or question me again.”

“Oh, Father... pleeeaase... My pussy…” She whined against his lips which he ignored and kissed her again, longer this time, swallowing her moans and whines.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against her face. “My pussy, huh?” He chuckled darkly, his hand reaching between their bodies to rub her clit in tight, brutal circles. “You want to talk about your pussy, goddess? Fine. Let's talk about your fucking pussy.”

“Fuuuck, it's too sensitive, don't…” She moaned like the slutty goddess he created her to become.

He ignored her plea, his fingers moving faster, applying more pressure to her sensitive clit. His hips continued their brutal pace, his cock stretching and filling her so completely. “It's my pussy now, understand? My toy, my plaything.”

Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails gripping on his clothes, as her head fell back and loud moans escaped her lips, echoing in the empty church.

Father Sam slowed his brutal pace, smirking at the goddess convulsing on his cock, utterly ruined. “Look at you,” He sneered, admiring his handiwork. “A heavenly being, reduced to this moaning whore.” He slapped her thigh, leaving a red mark.

Jeannie felt like she was going to pass out if he kept going, but at the same time she wanted to stay awake to feel every thrust send electricity up her spine.

He noticed her state and grinned, his hand moving to her neck and squeezing lightly. “Stay with me, slut,” He commanded, his hips starting to move again, this time slower but deeper, hitting her in places she didn't know existed. “I'm not done with you yet.”

“I don't think... I can... think, Father, you're breaking me,” She slurred half of her words, her eyes rolling back into her skull and her body half being held up by him on the altar

He saw her state—half-conscious, body covered in sweat, thighs trembling. He knew his brutal pace and deep thrusts were pushing her limits. He pulled back almost all the way, then snapped his hips forward hard. He did that again and again, watching her body jerk with each thrust. 

“Breaking you? I'm just getting started, princess,” His voice was hoarse from holding back his own release. He maintained that punishing rhythm, hitting her cervix with every thrust. The way her body responded to him—the heavenly moans, the slick heat—drove him insane.

She could feel his cock throbbing inside her with each thrust, it swelled and hit all the right places that made her let out melodious whimpers. “Will you cum for me, Father?” She asked, her voice soft and shaky, reduced to a holy cum-dumpster.

He groaned softly at her question. He knew she was no longer a goddess, no longer innocent. She was his personal whore, his sacred toy. His hips snapped again, swirling his hips to stimulate that sweet spot deep inside her. He smirked, answering her question with actions. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled them up to his chest, opening her up wider for his brutal thrusts. He hit that sweet spot over and over, watching her face contort in pleasure-pain. He leaned forward, his face inches from hers, breathing heavily.

“I don't know... how much more I can take…” She whimpered, her eyes droopy, clear indication that she was going to pass out if he kept going.

“Take it. Take every fucking inch,” He snapped, his voice rough and commanding. He knew she was at her limit, but he wasn't ready to stop. He slammed into her harder, his hips flush against hers. “You wanted to know if I'd cum? Look at me, slut.” 

She whimpered like a puppy, her pleading and watery eyes looking into the priest's lustful and commanding gaze. There she saw his jaw clenched, forehead wet with beads of sweat. His hair was messy, shirt half unbuttoned, black pants undone. He looked like a sinner - a man possessed. 

He watched her breasts bounce with his thrusts, listened to her whimpering cries. Her body fell limp on the altar, her poor goddess body being punished, abused by the so-called holy man. Her pussy kept clenching and cumming non-stop until she practically began mewling.

“That's right. Cum apart for me, sweet slut,” The sight of her completely broken, writhing helplessly on his cock, was enough to finally push him over the edge. 

He slammed into her forcefully one last time, burying himself deep inside. He filled her with his hot seed, his release so intense it hurt. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy weight pushing her further into the altar. He nuzzled his face between her breasts, panting heavily. He stayed like that for a few moments, savoring the aftermath.

Her eyes closed shut, as the intense pleasure and punishment finally ended, her her chest rising and dropping with each whimpering pants. Her brain shut down and she fell asleep. She’s never fallen asleep after intercourse. Never, until after being fucked like that.

He pulled out slowly, watching his seed drip out of her battered entrance. He spread her thighs wider to check the damage - she was red and swollen. He smirked, tucking himself back into his pants. 

Dawn had began to show from the coloured glass of the church, they've been fucking since midnight and now it's morning. 

Holy shit indeed. 

Father Sam took her into the back, to his office. He carried her limp form to his office, cradling her against his chest. He sat behind his desk, placing her on his lap. He began to run his fingers through her tangled hair, examining the marks he left on her neck, shoulders, breasts… 

He placed her on the velvet sofa near before he quickly stepped back out to the altar to grab her saree off the floor, thank god it didn't get dirty from their releases. He walked back into his office and put the saree over her naked body. 

He draped the saree gently over her nude form, a hint of tenderness amidst the brutal passion that had unfolded mere moments prior. Adjusting it carefully, he ensured her modesty was restored before stepping back to admire the sight—her battered yet beautiful body cloaked in the garment of her culture.

She stired slightly, soft sighs from the vigor fucking she got. "Mm," She hummed in quiet content, looking all innocent again. Her dark hair sprawled out on the velvet sofa, the soft yellow light from the window of the dawning sun creating shadows on her features. Father Sam got reminded how perfect she really is. To him—she’s flawless.

Father Sam stood there, looking at her peaceful sleeping form wrapped in the saree, his goddess indeed. He knelt beside the sofa, gently brushing a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. He whispered a silent prayer,

“My goddess, my temptation, my ruin…”

A/N: WOOOO THAT WAS FUN! Lemme know if you guys found it nice too. <3

[toomagazineperfection]

Three Rasmalai theory

The rights and wrongs don't mean addictions to wrong ones will mean lie. What is apparent of lie? Lie. What is the God of your lie? If justice meant the happenings of God and the wreck of humor that is law? If the justice meant lies that suddenly shape us in humor. We silence wrong. We mean theory. There were three Rasmalais. There were men. If wrong means justice, then happening meant loving rivers in the shapes of us. She wrought. Crying rivers don't bring justice. Files do. What is wrong is wrong. We happen. A girl happens. What is the right of man? If law books mean fate. Theories don't mean wrong. He killed a man. What is the right that needs explaining? If a work of man gets stolen, he is nice. Then? A feminist theory spring into motion. What if the wrong of man wrought life. Right. A need in time. What is the mother asking the court to do justice before her is a son? If a mother wrote happenings of dead and nicest things happen to her? Why? Is law necessary? Why do we falter? If marriage meant the start of birth? If I swerved a death in time. If the necessary law spring into motion, she. If we love and steal sweets, why? There were three Rasmalais and she ate one, so? Are words confusing, is theory in fact? How can you wrong before eyes. The law does justice to needy. Her mother wrote a wrong judgement and he ate one Rasmalai, how many left, two. If forgiveness meant the opposite of theory, she embodied this very paragraph I wrote of theory. What is a proposition? What is steal? What is yours? What is law? What is back-gaslighting, you do, know the meaning of lie, if it's you, what's wrong, you know? We silence men in war but not him. What is an unfit judge. We honor after fate and look after glory? Of whose, God, her, justice? Is she? If yes? Lie, broken love of her mother brought her on streets and she died. How is her mother wrong? You buy an average Saree and the quality is. Cheap in terms of rate and they made it like stone. If the wells of men knew abuse in chartering books she wrote with eyes, is she the honor of beautiful, so we honor her? Her beauty is an ace? How to turn beauty into your advantage? Is she a girl thought that she could win? Is lukewarm wrong, if yes, then how? If we started war and liked strangers, if it mans a war, how is it gaslighting? How is it war? How can you sing, you know, sing? How can you lie? In three Rasmalais, how many did you eat? If people should get credit, why are you praising God? If average meant the breadcrumbs you leave to find a story end satisfactory? If we find honesty to be win? She understood. How is it that you twist every favour of yours into cheating? And now, you want more. How? If wrong is wrong. You know it. Punishment. If it meant solving a case of honor, do we punish him? If corection is a stance, then who are we as people? If romance is the whirl of rape, is it a story? Is it true to the end? If repetition meant the right of lire, then who are we, are we murderers or vile? Are we right in finding three Rasmalais to be true? Truth is even your body knows like the life knows death in her eyes. Her.

For instances that happened, if you know a whirl. You know. There is a girl. Of respecting her is right. Of dying her colour in your sprint was your war. Take her to find heaving mothers at sight and she knew the daint of moon and gasps, but you? Are we different of pain and pyre? Of lie, she got a degree in maths, and then, she took hopes of becoming a doctor, did she? She knew. She knew the art of artery and knew lenses like moons. She works at a bakery. It dies to know. The dance of love. The art shops of night that wrote in conquest of honor, her. The methods of her. In painting theory of her. She wrote and existed in the moon there. If wrongs meant a person. Then? If a selfless portrayal is an actress lie. Is the hem of you, her? We are knit and dozed in the life of heaven. If the wrong meant time? If the hell bent money over her to garner death in time. In the happening, life is the hectic dance of her. Busy lives. Beginning loves. Telegu movies begun hearts in her. Eye forms, she births. We are so different of lies. I started to form wars of death. No amount of corresponding death knows her heart. My friend of gust wrote clat and passed. But do we know law? Do we know right? Of hers. Practice of a doctor. Practice of a lawyer, into life. Is a thing of death in time, of time? If lies happened, do they matter? No. Do they better to dead when time stopped of air and asked death, death took? Is asked none? Her. Is it time that asked, what of what? Whose to what? Is the war of time, a hoove? A dearth in time? He imagined artery of hearts and death sins in her. What of courage in you, took steps to become her, her night in war, so you understand her. If we are different in a matter which cannot be formed, stated, her? Is greatness a lie? She knows her docter-y. He knows his sweets. He knows his courage and he knows money will solve. So does, he buys a car. If they made bad sweets, you ate, whose, is it? Who were you before her? Did you rape or die to your sins? Or etch. Did I do something worthwhile, of a cause greater than a cover story? Of you, is a story war? The war ended. Her. We are equal not. Not only are we equal, but our time. If we took more time in the lie, is the ghost of lie in us. So what if we are different? Yes, prowess. Yes, lie. Yes, life. What can amount death and what can amount to lies of whole, what is the satre addiction that is? Is there a repercussion for bad education, and bad lies from mouth that spread a teacher's death, he was bad and died, hence, what? What he did was wrong, hence punishment, but what of theory? What is the average ratio to lie of honesty and what is her? What in theory is a fact? Rasmalais at weddings were them? Three Rasmalais. Like Three Idiots movie. What of lie, they mean every love song to you. What if love dances and dies? A construct of a great person, what if we never amount to them? If the lie from her mother is the nicest death in swollen soil.

So there was an owner and a tenant, he wrote an agreement and took. He was the knowing fact that intellect varied from person to person. If I divided land based on the capacity of man, they would win. They know. On the other hand, the average man wouldn't? If you pose a question to the man, they would understand ambiguity in understanding, hence won't. Posing questions like the wind and posing wind like God, tell us lies. What is know, truth, perhaps, wind. I ate three Rasmalais and I ate. I wrought. There was a dance competition and this girl knew dance. She danced. Ate stunned like fire.

There was God. There were Ill. Her mother went missing, I was the night shade that took moons to foray nights and found her, in my darling heart. If I loved him. Ache. They refused to check down cameras and gave away footage. She knew. Why do we refuse to help? Why do we seek, what's more important than a child? If you can feel bad and not give, then what, give in what, what right? She could have found her mother. What's right? No right or fight you wear on a moon. If you take a lover from him, he would die. That's father. If you are not, then. What is help, do you know? She would go strangling on the streets and find her mother. That's wringing. If right and wrong sounds like what poets do, and they write your fates for you, then what are you? Please, God. Help. As in what do you love to stay in, a house or a bungalow? If you think, we weep into the laughter of sons dying, then you are wrong. We write.

I imagined a muse of sparing teeth and grit. What is hate, would you support a murderer? Would you love anyone? Would you tolerate abuse? No. If love is romanticized as abuse, then what is love? Poison. This death of me understating murders in poems as poetic freedom is to stench blood as war. The smell of beats, the nice of moon. The war of tooth. The life of lie. It is intimidating to know people can murder words as their own. If acting out words in front of people, would you? No. Blessed with rage of moon and war is to know murdering people is right? Sarcasm, girl. What do you know about of love, clean off love as teeth in grit and loving people. It is. If greatness meant loving moons and life, you know? Her. You also say light. In the freedom of man, he dies. He sleeps humor. Night. Bless her of night. Forest. Fever. Night. World. Words do justice to her, not better than. To think about yourself is the dire act of love. Of others. Love.

Imagine theory as facts. That is her. Taking every lie to be. Everyone and equating them to the highest merits of all, right. Who gave you?I write as her. Who enlightened you? Of all stupidity, I. Hers is a winning category. I gave it you of some sorts of heart disturbing me to sleep. I wake. The things of lies and wanting glory like men if war, I seek. Coldest poetry. Taking in the shoes of a murderer, I kill too as him. In him, I ask poetry to be. Life to be. Wisdom too when kept aside my wish will wash. I was lessened poetry. I was so wasn't her in me. I was. My mirror broke I. He didn't reflect me. No. He did. All my truth is you. Selfless act's of hers night. I don't know love and I don't know anything in regard of human tendencies to seek. It is her. The selfless humane act of hers, will know lives. Her. The life of work.

Does right always win? Yes. Why not? Why victory over win? Dream the highest of wars, lovers and planets and moons. Plebians.

What is right? Is every stance of courage a living one? If we had Gods and sufficed paintings of man in fair death, would he win? We were all winners whose Constitution hit a bore heading of why? If it's a necessary lie as to share madness of kind? Do we seek doing faces and love as showers of God? Would you fetch water? Why? Because. The men in children died as died Gods. What if war never happens in Constitution. In a place of heart, if we genuinely like a being for honesty. We do. But are we.

The problem if pretty

If we don't see each other as a vying capacity to satiate men and don't see each other to forget? What is the highest of courage? In other honor, what is help? Give. You saved men and you preyed prayer. You found. You. Left is all of you. What is pray? An eye. Tooth for lives and God for lies. You are. You know. You help to look good. You star in a movie of your own and act. You have three mistakes. Acts. Predecessors. And rights. You ask in order to give. You can't take away but give? You give, in order to look good. You take, in order to look nice. You live, in order to, what is, you take, give, you love? You. Null it's effects and void. Position a courage and you tone it down to kindness. What is kindness? What is. Helping people and serving. Serving a mistake. A furror and a passion tremor. His head hit a gaze. He was a life. He was a God. In God, he is teeth. In God, he is man. I understand, help. In order to conquer blood spit of deities. And answer as God. You.

Her.

Sunidhi

[ramcharantitties]

Diwali

Summary: First Diwali of you and ram.

"Why are you still in your clothes?" A voice boomed from the door, and by the tone, it was a very angry wife of mine. Although I wanted to cross question her, "why don't you take them off?", I knew better and did not utter a word. Maybe we'll do that later tonight anyways. I jumped off the chair in a second and scurried to the bathroom, towel in hand. It's Diwali today. From four in the morning, we have set the fairy lights, spotting dragon flies, then packed the sweets y/n made in the past two days, deep cleaned our house, went to market for last moment shopping, and decorated our house with diya and rangoli. The amount of tea cups lining the sink said enough about our hardwork today. It was around 4 in the evening now, and y/n needed me to get bathed soon so I can go to the temple for an early Pooja, as she sets up the Pooja at our home.

The bath was shivering and cold- November not letting us breath with warmth. Stepping out of the bath, a red kurta and white dhoti with a red lining on it caught my eye. Someone did Diwali shopping for me. And it's shy to say, but the warmth she gives deter a hundred Novembers.

Quickly getting ready, I combed my hair. The red on my cheeks matched one of my clothes, and it was visible in the mirror, hope my wife doesn't catch it. It was almost 4:30, and I knew that if I don't leave now, it's going to be a screaming match. Finding y/n, I saw her in her homely saree with wet hair tied in a towel lock, carrying everything needed to the Pooja in our home. "Get ready first, I'll help you with this when I come back".

She turned around to my voice, the golden skin from sandalwood shining with the golden mangalsutra in orange sunlight. A tint of pink on her cheeks too when she checked me out, up and down. I had to turn around and leave, so she didn't catch me blushing.

It was almost the muhrat of Pooja when I stepped in our home. The sun has started to set and the area was lit up by blinking fairy lights. Blasts of firecrackers were easily heard throughout. I saw our home with white and yellow alternate lights too. Upon entering, Y/n was nowhere to be found near the Pooja, but it was all set and decorated.

Looking for y/n, I realised that I haven't given her Diwali gift- a blue chiffon saree I picked out for her, and that it's our first Diwali together. I called out for her, as she made her way out from our room in a pink saree. Her hair was open and air drying. It was given to her by her family, and she has already worn this twice now.

"Why aren't you wearing anything new?" I led her into the room again opening the side of the cupboard which was reserved for my official clothes. "This is new" she muttered, putting Kohl lines in her eyes. I pulled out the transparent bag which held a beautiful blue saree, laced with white embroidery and deep red design. Her brown eyes caught the sight of it, a breath caught in her throat. She looked expectantly at me. A smile from me was enough for her to pull it from me and rush inside.

About 15 minutes later, y/n came out looking like an apsara. The baby blue insinuated her already pink face. She twirled around giggling. "Do I look good?" I nodded, leaning on the bed frame. It felt good, to see her happy. The childish joy in her eyes and soft smile on her lips. Gazing at her lovingly, it took me a while to realize she wasn't smiling anymore. "We are getting late for Pooja!"

The Pooja went well. We sat down after it, tired from running around the house all day. Busy eating home made sweets, I almost lost the soft touches of her on the saree, her fingertips barely touching the design. She looked content. And that was enough for me to remember how our first Diwali went.

......,...........................

tagging- @budugu @thewinchestergirl1208 @rambheemlove @ramayantika @bishh-kanya @chaanv @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @cursedcursives @hopelessdemonic @nerdreader @bitchy-bi-trash @vijayasena

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[sewingbluebee]

I'm back from my holiday! It was an interesting experience but sometimes tiring. I went to Chennai, India! I bought many things:

2 suit material

2 sarees (the one on the left is raw silk saree. Super expensive)

2 fabric. They don't have much options.

1 shawl

I went to a few places. We went to tiruvanamalai to do the girivalam 14km walk which was no joke. After walking 14km barefoot, I was ready to faint. The breakfast afterthat felt like the best breakfast I had ever eaten in my life.

We didn't go inside the temple cos we were too exhausted but I'm abit sad that we didn't go in. I travelled all the way there and didn't go to the hugeee temple. Really regretted.

Then we went chennai for shopping. Shopping was sooo much fun! I enjoyed going into the huge saree departmental stores.

My stomach didn't upset alot like the previous time that I went to India. Maybe cos I was eating probiotics so that might have helped.

I didn't get lost cos Google maps was handy.

Chennai feels like a good place to retire tho. Cos I can speak tamil XD. The airport customs was really good too. Not as overcrowded as delhi.

Tmr I need to go back to work. I'm not looking forward to that.

[mystic-sole]

Why Punjabi Juttis Are the Ultimate Valentine’s Day Footwear Choice

Valentine's Day is about love, romance, and sharing time with those special people in your life. While everyone tends to worry about their clothes, the right shoes can make all the difference in how you look and feel. If you want to dress up your Valentine's Day look, nothing beats the classic elegance of a pair of Punjabi juttis. These heritage shoes, famous for their distinctive style and cultural heritage, provide comfort and glamour, making them the ideal shoe for this occasion.

In this article, we will discover why Punjabi juttis are the go-to Valentine's Day footwear option, how you can pair them with any kind of clothing, and why they should be on your shopping list. If you're having a romantic dinner or an everyday date, Punjabi juttis will be that ideal combination of classiness and tradition that completes your outfit.

What Are Punjabi Juttis?

Punjabi juttis are a classic style of shoe that hail from the Punjab region, which stretches across India and Pakistan. Punjabi juttis are reputed for having elaborate hand-embroidered patterns, bright colors, and a characteristic flat design. The juttis themselves are crafted out of leather, cloth, or velvet and come with intricate stitching, mirror work, and beading, and these are notable both as a functional as well as fashionable choice of shoe.

What distinguishes Punjabi juttis from other footwear is the fact that they have no heel and, thus are easy to wear for extended periods. They provide a close fit and are usually available in different colors, designs, and adornments, thus a stylish twist that makes them not only appropriate for casual activities but also for more formal events. These juttis have, over time, adapted to new tastes while maintaining their classic appeal, thus becoming a favorite among people during festive events such as weddings, cultural festivals, and, of course, Valentine's Day.

Why Choose Punjabi Juttis for Valentine’s Day?

Valentine's Day is a day when everyone wishes to feel special, and the right footwear is an important part of that. Here's why Punjabi juttis are the ideal option to top off your Valentine's Day look.

1. A Perfect Blend of Tradition and Modernity

Punjabi juttis elegantly marries traditional skills with modern design inputs. Whether you're dressed in a saree, a salwar kameez, or even a Western garment, these juttis bring with them a distinct cultural flavor that can change your style. Their timelessness renders them versatile enough to go along with trendy fashion without losing their roots. If you are dressing up with a bold, eye-catching look on Valentine's Day, a pair of bright, intricately worked juttis is sure to stand out.

2. Comfortable All-Day Wear

Unlike high heels, which hurt to wear all day, Punjabi juttis are the perfect comfort choice. Their plush leather make and flat bottom design mean you'll be comfortable morning till night, so whether dancing the night away at a Valentine's Day function or taking an evening stroll to dinner, you can keep on your juttis all day without a moment's discomfort. You don't have to compromise style for comfort, and that is exactly what you get from Punjabi juttis - pure comfort mixed with pure style.

3. A Wide Variety of Designs

Punjabi juttis have an array of designs, so that you can select the most suitable one that suits your style as well as Valentine's Day dress. Right from traditional metallic colors to vibrant and bold colors, there is something for every moment. If you want to go for a sophisticated look with a subtle touch, a plain designer Punjabi jutti can provide sophistication as well as elegance. Want to stand out? Go for the juttis with elaborate beadwork, sequins, or embroidery providing a spark of glamour to your entire look.

4. Versatility for Any Outfit

One of the main reasons Punjabi juttis are perfect for Valentine's Day is its versatility. The juttis can complement traditional Indian outfits like lehengas, anarkalis, or sarees as well as dresses or skirts or pants. For an evening intimate setting, they can be paired with a flowing gown or a classically designed blouse with jeans - a stylish, yet traditional take. Whether you want boho or just an elegant affair, Punjabi juttis are versatile enough to be styled according to your fashion choices.

5. A Unique Gift Idea

If you are not planning to buy them for yourself, then gift a pair of Punjabi juttis to your loved one on Valentine's Day. Their intricate designs and handcrafted nature make them a thoughtful and meaningful gift. A pair of well-chosen juttis is not just a piece of footwear but a statement of love and appreciation. Plus, the uniqueness and cultural significance of the juttis will remind them of the special day whenever they wear them. Read the article to know more about choosing the best punjabi juttis.

6. Perfect for Every Valentine’s Day Setting

Valentine's Day is very different regarding the way people may celebrate it. Be it a quiet dinner for two, or a romantic dance, or simply a casual outing, Punjabi juttis would suit any ambiance. The beauty of the design suits them to formal situations, while comfort and ease with design make them good for casual outings as well. This makes it all-in-one footwear for every celebration.

7. Sustainable and Ethically Made

Many modern designers who create Punjabi juttis focus on sustainable and ethical production methods. Sustainable fashion is getting more attention lately, and with that, such shoes are created using eco-friendly materials like vegan leather or fabric sourced locally. When you purchase a pair of juttis, you're not just supporting traditional craftsmanship but also contributing to the preservation of culture and the environment. Choosing ethical and handmade products gives your Valentine's Day a little extra meaning, knowing that your footwear is supporting a cause you can feel good about.

How to Style Punjabi Juttis for Valentine’s Day

Styling your Punjabi juttis for Valentine’s Day is all about balancing comfort and glamour. Here are some tips to help you put together the perfect look:

Pair with a Long Dress or Gown: For an elegant and flowing look, match your Punjabi juttis with a maxi dress or gown. The intricate patterns and bright colors of the juttis will complement the flow of the fabric and create a stunning visual effect.

Traditional Outfits: If you're wearing a saree or lehenga, Punjabi juttis are the perfect complement. The rich embroidery and designs can add a fresh and modern touch to traditional attire.

With Casual Wear: Punjabi juttis also work well with casual outfits like a long tunic, kurti, or even a pair of jeans. Keep the look relaxed yet fashionable with simple designs, and add accessories like a statement necklace or earrings to complete the outfit.

For Date Night: If you're keeping it simple yet elegant, pair a Punjabi jutti for women with a sleek outfit like a chic jumpsuit, tailored pants, or a little black dress. A metallic or embellished pair will add the right amount of glam to your ensemble.

Why You Should Choose Mystic Sole for Your Punjabi Juttis

The right brand is what matters in finding the ideal pair of Punjabi juttis for Valentine's Day. Mystic Sole offers a large variety of handcrafted juttis that marry traditional craftsmanship with contemporary styles. Whether you need a simple designer Punjabi jutti that matches a minimalistic outfit or something more elaborate for a bolder look, Mystic Sole has something to suit every taste.

Mystic Sole ensures to pay all attention to detail, great material, and comfort. Every single pair of juttis has been designed very carefully to have the perfect fit and long-term wear so you can feel sure and stylish the whole day through. Moreover, through online shopping, you could even Buy Punjabi Jutti Online from your home, sitting on your comfortable couch, using quick delivery systems so that they can reach in time for the day of Valentine.

At Mystic Sole, customer satisfaction is of great importance, and they are dedicated to helping you find the best footwear according to your needs. Whether you shop for yourself or a loved one, Mystic Sole is sure to guarantee that you get the perfect juttis in terms of aesthetics and comfort.

Conclusion

The ultimate Valentine's Day shoe would be Punjabi juttis, as they combine tradition, comfort, and style. These are very versatile, unique designs with timeless appeal, which makes them match any kind of outfit for an even more special Valentine's Day celebration. If you're going to create a statement or just stick to casual all-day comfort, Punjabi juttis are a perfect fit. So, why not buy yourself or someone you love such a beautiful iconic pair of shoes this Valentine's Day?

When you finally decide to seek the perfect fit, look for no other store than Mystic Sole, where quality meets traditions in every step.

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