#asian kurta

[dlldior]

guys if sebagni got married would sebastian wear traditional clothing at their wedding

[the-brown-man]

It's been a while.

[saleeba]

subha hone na de ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ alexa play moonlight by twice :D

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x south asian/brown!fem!reader

content ♡ fluff, fiancé!jude, asian wedding shenanigans, jude in a black kurta (brown ppl will know that this is a trope in itself 😌), y/c/n = your cousin's name, lovergirl!reader, the moon as a symbol of beauty, tiny social media au at the end, bollywood fans this one's for u !! 🗣🗣

a/n ♡ ahhhh my first brown girl reader fic & i’m so excited for u all to read it 🥰🥰 the reason i used both south asian and brown as descriptors for the reader is bc i wanted to include the girlies of the diaspora like the caribbean/fiji/south africa/south east asia etc & tbh i wasn’t sure if any person of south asian descent preferred to describe themselves as either ‘south asian’ or as ‘brown’ !! also pls note that this is a very broad & non-specific portrayal of a person from “south asian culture” - that is to say that bc south asia is made up of numerous ethnicities, religions, cultures etc i don’t want to show disrespect by lumping them all together nor do i intend the reader to be from a certain south asian background! i tried to keep it as “general” (?) as possible esp when it came to the clothing but pls let me know if u would like to see elements of a specific culture or religion in a future south asian/brown!reader fic !! ALSO oml ik my a/ns are always so long 😭 but the title is a reference to one of my fav bollywood songs <3 it’s an absolute BANGER & it translates to “let there be no morning/don’t allow the dawn to arrive” which i think ties in nicely to this fic :D pls enjoy & lmk what u think!!! 🫶🏽💛

“alright… how do i look, babe?” your fiancé asks, emerging from the bedroom into the ensuite where you’re placing the finishing touches to your simple makeup look as he pats down the black sequinned kurta you’ve picked out for your cousin’s at-home henna ceremony tonight. his personal choice to pair it with a golden necklace and a watch to match makes the whole look pop against the summer-tanned tone of his skin. 

you’re careful not to blind yourself with the eyeliner in your hand once you catch even the smallest glimpse of him in the mirror. it’s safe to say that if you were a cartoon character, there’d be hearts protruding from your eyeballs, all pink and comically large. 

“you look amazing, jude, so handsome,” you beam at him, genuinely in awe of how good he looks in your culture’s clothing, not that it’s the first time you’ve seen jude wearing such a thing. over the years that the two of you have been dating, you’ve introduced him to so many facets of your heritage, sharing parts of yourself that were inseparably you – and jude has embraced and immersed himself in everything like he was born into that same culture. 

your fiancé smiles right back at you before replying. “have to make sure i look good in front of my wife’s family now, don’t i?” 

you struggle to stifle the schoolgirl-like giggle that racks through your chest at his words, still not able to be used to the word ‘wife’ coming out of jude’s mouth while referring to you, despite you not even being that yet. truth be told, it’s almost been a month since jude proposed and although you both agreed to wait for some time before telling fans and the media, he’s been calling you his wife around friends and family ever since he got down on one knee, resulting in your bashful smile and blushing cheeks becoming the subject of their teasing every time. 

“true, yeah, can’t have the aunties gossiping about how you have zero drip.” 

your joking is met with a childish sticking out of jude’s tongue before he’s shooed out of the bathroom, leaving you to complete your makeup and don the black and gold outfit that matches jude’s for tonight. 

***

your cousin had told everyone that she wanted a very lowkey and relaxed henna function, especially since weddings from your culture tend to be incredibly busy—almost chaotically so—and she has the opportunity of her other nuptial ceremonies to go all out anyway, hence tonight’s dress code being as equally relaxed and minimal. in spite of all that, you’ve taught jude that celebrations in your culture and the word ‘lowkey’ are nothing but oxymorons of each other so he isn’t surprised when you both walk in to see the bridal home all decked out in bright lights and flower garlands the colours of a vivid spring and ten times the guests he was anticipating to see all bumbling about the place. what does surprise jude is when you inform him that you’ve been appointed as a “chief henna artist” (in the words of the bride) last minute so now he’s been abandoned; left to the mercy of your relatives who haven’t seen him for all of three months and so decide to hound him with every question under the sun.

“tell us how it was winning the champions league, jude!”

“jude, any plans for the wedding yet?”

“uncle jude, come play in the garden with us! please, uncle jude, please!

“is it true mbappé’s going to madrid? do you have his number?!” 

“ooh, can you give me mbappé’s number?!”

jude fights the urge to jet past everyone and run out the front door screaming and flailing his arms, the blaring music and onslaught of inquiries getting to him, and instead peeks over the heads of the crowd around him to try and silently get your attention because as much as he loves your family, he’s praying you can be his knight in shining black and gold to save him from their unwarranted fixation right now. Unfortunately, he’s met with the sight of you fully concentrated on working on your cousin’s bridal henna, having teamed up with another cousin to meticulously draw intricate patterns across her arms and feet. oh, he’s going to have to get comfortable with the company of your relatives for at least the next three hours then. 

***

those three hours turn into five by the time jude is done having a kickabout in the garden with your younger family members, detailing the night his club were champions of europe once again and politely declining the chance to leak the kylian mbappé’s phone number to your niece. not that he’s at his wits’ end (he kind of really is) but jude thinks he’d do good to be in your company as the clock tolls eleven so he opts out of another game of footy to go and look for you, much to the amusement of your relatives who lightheartedly taunt him about the way he can’t stay away from his fiancée for even a short while. 

passing into the living room once again, jude finds you right where he left you but this time, it’s your henna that’s being painted onto the palms of your hands, the design so complex and elaborate that some of the already-dried parts look richly brick-ish red against your skin tone. under the twinkling fairy lights and waves of marigold flowers, jude can’t help but imagine it’s your nuptials being celebrated here; sitting so prettily like you’re what everyone came here to see and honestly? he can’t wait until it’s time for you to be just that. 

“hi, again. remember me?” he jests, taking a seat on the floor cushion next to where you’re sat with your arms sprawled out as your cousin decorates them with muddy green paste. 

“hmm, remind me who you are again?” you feign a confused look. 

“ouch. is that ring on your finger not good enough of a reminder, mrs bellingham?” 

“nope, the diamond’s too small.”

“oi!” 

the laughter that erupts from the both of you even has your cousin joining in, jude breaking the giggle fits to ask an all-important question. 

“have you eaten yet? you’ve been sat here the whole night doing this.” 

shaking your head, you gesture towards the now empty bottle of water sitting by your feet that you’d been rationing throughout the evening and tell him that's all you’ve been filling your stomach with, way too busy with doing the bride’s henna then an aunty’s then a cousin’s then another aunty and then the next after that to even move from your spot in the lounge.

jude determines that that won’t do and offers to make you a plate of food that your elders had just topped up the buffet table with. you comply and ask him to get enough food for you to share. 

between mouthfuls and munching of samosas—jude doing the super important job of biting the corner of a samosa and blowing the savoury pastry cool enough for you to take a bite—and sweetmeats, your cousin works hard at completing the henna art on your left hand, and there’s just the matter of a couple of fingers left before she utters a heartfelt apology and comments that her hand is about to cramp from holding cones of henna for so long.

“that’s okay! go grab a break and then if you’re still up for it, you can finish it later,” you say sincerely, encouraging her to go hang out with other parts of the family before she loses her mind in swirls and paisley patterns like you nearly have. “or i can always get someone else to do it!”

“can i have a go?” 

the way jude pipes up, mouth stuffed with chocolate barfi like a child who's just found the cookie jar, has you and your cousin whipping your heads towards him and then at each other, sharing the slightest of sceptical looks. 

“oh god, will we need to get the stencils out for him, y/n?” your cousin japes – well, she believes she is but the thought of her painstaking work being destroyed by a guy who, although creates art with a football, cannot draw anything further than a stick person makes her nervous, to say the least. 

“hey!” jude wants to advocate for his art skills right here, right now. “i’ve been watching you do it all just now, i’ll just copy the exact same thing for the last two fingers, right?”

you pipe in as his supporting act. “he makes a very good case, your honour.”

your cousin surrenders to the pair of you, essentially fleeing the scene with mutters of “better not mess it up, bellingham” and you both know she’s deadly serious. 

“still not too late to get the stencils, y’know?” you watch as your fiancé struggles with holding the henna cone correctly.

“no, no, i’ve got this, babe,” he remarks before almost smudging the still-wet design on your palm with his fingers. “oh shit!”

“jude!”

your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth at the sight.  

“It’s fine, love, see!” jude points to an edge that’s ever so slightly smudged from the commotion. “all good. now, close your eyes.” 

“you’re joking!” you squeak out incredulously, fearful of whatever is going on in that mad mind of his. you do not want to face the wrath of your cousin on a night that’s going so well. 

“please, babe!” your grown fiancé looks like a kid trying to prove himself to his mum right now with the way his already puppy-dog eyes grow wider. “i promise it’ll look good, just… close your eyes, please?” 

“ok, fine!” trying not to let reluctance get in the way, you’re now the one surrendering to jude’s request as your eyes close without any further argument.. “i’m telling y/c/n to kill you and not me if this doesn’t go to plan.”

a small chuckle is the only thing you can hear from jude before he gets to work, spending more minutes than you can count on your henna-adorned fingers as he drags the cool paint over your digits, questions of whether you can open your eyes yet meet with shushes and oftentimes you hear yourself hissing when jude tugs your skin with the pointed tip of the cone instead of hovering slightly above with it. 

“aaand we’re done! you have my permission to open your eyes.” as soon as you do, you’re met with the sight of a very smug, very excited jude bellingham who gestures towards your left hand where… wow, the design is beautiful. it’s the tiniest bit clumsy, just where the lines are supposed to be straight, but it mirrors exactly what your cousin had painted on your right hand, the pattern set in its curls and dots and spirals.

“i did a little something extra, too. i hope y/c/n doesn’t mind but i think you’ll like it.”

“yeah? you’re gonna have to help me find it then, babe,” you say, already scanning over the artwork he’s created to try and find what mystery he’s left behind. 

“actually, that’s supposed to be your job.” your fiancé replies, his smile a little more bashful and voice a little softer. “it’s my name, i wrote it in there for you to find—”

“really?! where?!” you ask albeit rhetorically as your eyes now frantically run all over your left hand in search of where jude has inscribed his own name. 

a few seconds pass before they do a double-take over where your engagement ring sits on your finger, just there, just to the right of it along the crook of where your finger meets the back of your palm. there is it — the print so whimsically curled and sweetly small that it looks like it fits right in with the rest of the henna design. jude. 

“where did you learn all this?” you’re tearing up just the slightest over it all, glad no one is within earshot of you two for you would’ve been teased to no end tonight. 

your fiancé shrugs nonchalantly at your question before explaining everything. “i did some research after proposing and read about it. i know, originally, you’re supposed to be the one that knows and i’m the one that looks for it but i thought this would be cute.”

“it was cute— so cute,” you beam across at jude, the hearts in your eyes back again over how willing he is to throw himself into your cultural traditions and quirks, even learning things unprompted and without your encouragement. you thank your lucky stars that you found yourself a life partner who’s so unabashed in not just learning about your heritage but incorporating it into your lives. in a way, he’s been healing that little girl who grew up ashamed and embarrassed of her culture, wishing she was someone else, something else, and helping her become a woman who proudly wears it without giving anyone else ownership. 

a chorus of “uncle jude! uncle jude!” rings through the living room as your younger relatives, all pumped up on sugar at around midnight (oh well, it is the time for festivities anyway), run in, dragging your fiancé away from you before you two can exchange any more words. you settle with a shared knowing look and smile, leaving you to get your henna dried and jude to commence round 2 of another football match. 

***

there are only so many probing questions from aunties and uncles and instances of your cousin bitching about her situationship that you can take as your henna dries in, what are now, two makeshift cling-film casts to help strengthen the colour before you’re bothered by the lack of jude by your side as the clock tolls just past two in the morning. after sifting through possibly the entire family tree dotted throughout the house, you’re directed by an uncle to the balcony where jude’s standing hunched over the railing, gazing into the sky where the moon illuminates the earth, peeking from behind a sliver of cloud dust. 

“hey, you,” you speak softly so as not to startle the peaceful moment that’s now given you a break from the hubbub inside.

jude whips his head towards the voice, instantly grinning at the sight of you, so beautiful in the moonshine, before extending an arm to pull you into his side. 

“i see the moon’s out tonight,” you muse, not taking your eyes off him one bit as he continues to stare up into the sky.

“looks beautiful, right?” 

“yeah, he does.” you daren’t unlock your gaze from the way jude glows in the moonlight, the cool tone sitting over his skin and bringing more attention to the bridge of his nose and the highest points of his cheekbones. oh, how you want to spend the rest of the night laying kisses across them. 

“he? oh—” he turns to find your pretty eyes, lit equally as bright by the natural light, not even having budged an inch from his face as he realises you’re not talking about that moon. “shut up!”

you laugh as he blushes like a smitten teenage boy, a sight not too unfamiliar since that’s exactly what he was when the two of you started dating. 

“what, can’t a girl be romantic with her husband?” you act out a sweet pout, the sight and your words making jude’s heart skip a beat or three.

“you are so lucky your family isn’t here to take the piss.”

another set of giggles from the pair of you as you cuddle into jude’s side, both now facing the moon that you swear is shining way brighter than before, the cloud in front of it nearly dissipating into non-existence. 

“i love you, mrs bellingham,” jude breaks the serene silence. “i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” he places the gentlest of kisses on your ring finger, lips ghosting just over the cling-film-covered diamond ring. the scene would’ve been amusing had it not been for the tender romance of the moment, a few minutes to get away from the beloved chaos of family celebrations and to pretend the whole world rotated on its axis, served its purpose, for only jude and you. 

“i love you, too. so much, jude.”

you sigh into the warming summer air, silently asking the sun to rise a little later so that you can fawn over your lover's features in the moonlight for as much time as you want.

yourusername • 18h

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yourusername celebrating love with my love 💒

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judebellingham can’t wait for our turn 💍❤️

↳ yourusername ilysm 🥹❤

user1 THE LAST PIC????????? RUE,,,, WHEN WAS THIS????

user2 🥳🥳🥳CONGRATULATIONSSS🥳🥳🥳 (i’m gatecrashing the wedding)

trentalexanderarnold best man position still vacant? 🫣

↳ jobebellingham unfortunately no 🙄

user3 we need the proposal story asap!!!

↳ user4 and a whole album worth’s of pictures too !!!!!

[reallyhardydraws]

legolas, as portrayed by yazdan qafouri in the watermill theatre's revival of the LOTR musical from last summer.

still obsessed with it, and very much enamoured with this south asian inspired look for legolas in his red kurta and sash. love love love it.

[commissions open!] 🧝‍♂️🏹🍃

[vamprel]

Hi guys so uh don’t kill me but yes that’s a self insert it’s me 😞 I don’t make OCs for anything (except for my personal world) because I’d loose track, and why would I make OCs when I could be in the world and kiss the LIs WHAT WHO SAID THAT

I tried my best to make this look like the official style, and I think I did well? Also NO I’m not sleep deprived (I kinda am) it’s just kajal, which is this eye makeup thing in India and other South East Asian countries. Anyway I wanna get into outfit details.

I tried to combine vkei and traditional Indian clothing and ended up with that. The purple part is a kurta, but the cape part of it was inspired by an Edwardian era wrap cape. The belts, spikes, and the corset are for the vkei things, the embroidery is always in a lot of Indian clothes so I included that. I made the flowers morning glories and moonflowers since those are my favorites. Instead of pants which is what you usually wear with a kurta, I made it a skirt because that’s how I usually wear it, I find it a bit more comfy. The top part of the embroidery which looks like a bat wing and the boots were inspired by Castlevania, specifically Hector and Carmilla, except I forgot which version of Carmilla there’s too many versions of her.

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem, i tried to keep it non-specific so it applies to the whole region, not just india, hopefully i succeeded😬 read dick's hcs here !

i looooved writing this it was so much fun. drop an ask with anything else you want to see!!

When you show him Bollywood movies, at first he’s like “Why are these so damn long?” But watches them anyway because you’re so excited to show him

He obviously sobs at K3G (because he has daddy AND big brother issues)

But his favorite is probably 3 Idiots or Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (he just seems like the type to looove an underdog story am I right)

Since Jason likes cooking, he’s learning how to make all your favorite foods. He’s eaten a lot of Indian food before (duh, it’s New Jersey), so he’s familiar with the flavors and spices, but some dishes are easier than others. He tries to make dosa after you mentioned liking it but it does not go well

He’s trying so hard to impress you but they all keep breaking😭 and the ones that don’t break come out burnt. When he finally relents and lets you help him, you hold his hand and guide him to make the proper movements; pouring the batter, spreading it into a circle, and gently flipping it so it doesn’t break

He loves chai, and is always experimenting with different recipes and flavors and asking you to test them

You're taking him to the Indian market so often, by the end of the month he knows the names for all the vegetables and spices in your language and where to find them

He thinks you with mehendi/henna is the most attractive thing ever

Your friend’s getting married? Of course he’ll feed you while your mehendi’s drying, you don't even have to ask

When it's still fresh and at its darkest color he's actually going batshit insane (pun intended); he loves interlacing your fingers together and seeing the contrast of your dark, decorated fingers against his large, strong ones. His phone background is a selfie of you guys where your faces are squished side-by-side and one of your mehendi'd hands is cupping his cheek

And when you're on top of him, the sight of your adorned hands pressed flat against his bare chest, flushed and heaving...he thinks it belongs in a museum

He just loves doing little acts of service; one day you’re complaining offhandedly to him about how the price of eyebrow threading keeps going up, a week later you’ve forgotten all about it but he’s like “I learned how to thread your eyebrows”

He figured it would be easy enough, and as someone who’s life often depends on steady, surgical aim and precision, it is

Roy’s walking around looking messed up as fuck for a couple weeks but that’s beside the point because he’s got the hang of it now 

When it comes to putting on a sari, he'll put the pins in the hard to reach places if you ask, but for the most part he just loves watching you put it on. he thinks it's so cute the way you scrunch your face in focus as you make the folds and tuck in the fabric with such concentration (Jason Todd domesticity agenda)

One night you're getting dressed up for some party, but no matter what you do and how many times you take it off and try to re-drape it, it just won't come out good and you get so frustrated and teary-eyed that he has to intervene

He makes you take a break, brings you a snack, and kisses you until you feel better, and then he pulls up a youtube video to do it for you— but he can't do it either😭

So you both decide to give up and you wear a lehenga instead

It’s a fairly modest one, and even though he's seen you wearing more-revealing clothes (and none at all), he's going crazy over that one inch sliver of exposed skin on your midriff

He already loves seeing you dressed up in traditional wear but if you put jasmine flowers in your hair with it??? The fragrance coming from you makes him feral. It lingers in your hair for a couple days and he can’t stop following you around and sniffing you LMAO

The first time you get a kurta for him, it’s actually impossible to find one that fits because he’s so big and buff (drool) so you just end up buying the fabric and getting it custom stitched

There's only a few scraps of the fabric left and you get the wonderful idea of braiding the scraps into a bracelet so you have something to match with him and it makes him go crazy

Early on in your relationship, you’re a little afraid to have oil in your hair in front of him because you’re worried he’ll think the smell is too strong

Jason is probably familiar with the practice of hair oiling from his time with Talia (but you don’t know that yet)

He actually LOVES when you oil your hair around him. Just something about him being the only one who gets to see you when you’re comfy and unready is so intimate to him and makes him feel so special and trusted and loved🥹

Time for some of my physical touch x touch starved!Jason propaganda

After a particularly difficult night of patrolling, he comes to you stressed and anxious and unsure what to do with himself. So you make him sit on the floor in front of your bed, warm up some of the oil, and seat yourself on the edge of the mattress. He leans back against your legs and you massage the warm oil into his scalp. It feels heavenly. You’re using the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots, and it feels so good he wants to cry. Later, when you pull him into the shower to shampoo it out, he actually does cry, hoping the water falling from the shower head hides the tears (it doesn’t, and it breaks your heart)

(If you were raised Hindu) I think he'd be very interested in the belief in reincarnation, past & future lives, oneness with the universe, etc...it might help him make some sense of his coming back

You bring mediation into his life, and that also really helps him

You wear Kajal/kohl/surma on your eyes, and whenever he’s looking especially good, or before he goes out as red hood, you smudge some onto your finger and put a mark behind his ear, just to be safe (it’s believed to deflect jealousy/bad intentions from others) (yes I’m superstitious sue me)

Or you just tie a black thread around his ankle

When you first explain to him that you want him to wear a black thread around his ankle because of a superstition, he thinks you’re joking. He can’t believe you actually believe in that 

But he can’t say no to you and he secretly likes that you also have one so it feels like you’re matching 

He considers it a good luck charm, not because he believes the superstition but because it’s from you

[midnightorchids]

Jason x south asian!reader headcanons (I wrote this with a Pakistani fem!reader in mind. However, I did try to keep it neutral)

- He feeds you samosas and ties your hair for you, while your henna is drying. He has the stupidest grin plastered on his face while doing so, it makes his heart feel full

- He studies your native language to try and communicate with you and your family better. He gets really shy when he uses the wrong grammar or pronounces a word wrong

- Jason has a very special place in his heart for Urdu because it is one of the South Asian languages of poetry (I speak this one lol)

- He definitely learned Urdu, Farsi and Arabic for literary and poetic reasons, now you have to hear him recite different sonnets in multiple languages every day (so cute)

- He studied Islamic history and Hindu scriptures. It piqued his interest and if any of these religions apply to you, then it helps him understand you better

- You always make him wear kohl or kajal in his eyes and he never says no

- You sit on his lap and gently add the kajal in his waterline and he can’t help but smirk in excitement. He likes being close to you

- Jason likes to wear black kurtas. Need I say more? They hug his arms so deliciously, he looks so pretty in them

- Your dupatta (scarf) got caught on his watch one time and he couldn’t stop smiling

- He kisses your hand and calls you meri dunya (my world) and meri jaan (my life)

- He’s disgustingly cringe, he watched an old Shahrukh Khan movie with you once and did THE pose (im crying)

- Orange theory but with pomegranates

- Ultimate brown dad behaviour, let me explain, you tell him you like something and the next day there’s a million packets of it

- He’s a Noor Jehan listener and Galib quoter (me)

- Whenever you wear a lengha or any flowy outfit, he’ll spin you around before pulling you in for a kiss

[roariescorner]

DESI/INDIAN MIKU REAL!!!

I love the international miku trend sm so i wanted to join!!

She's playing the sitar in the first image and offering the PEAKEST of peak foods, FISH FRY!!! it's my favorite food!!

she's wearing a type of south asian attire, the kurta, here. I've worn one before, and it's quite comfortable!

Though I'm indian, I was born and raised in AMERICA [cue bald eagle noises and national anthem]. I know a little bit about indian culture, but not that much. I hope did good here!!

Fun fact: Bharatanatyam dancers use "Alta," a red dye, on their hands and feet to draw attention to them. I wanted to add that to Miku since she's an idol! I've also seen red sharpie being used for this purpose.

sitar drawing inspiration by rixypill!

Will probably post more drawings of desi miku soon!!

[bobateababe]

✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. going to a relatives wedding south asian ver. - w/Sukuna .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿

pairing: Sukuna x desi reader

Sukuna hasn't been to a lot of weddings, so the amount of confusion on his face is almost laughable when he sees how excited you are for your cousin's wedding.

However, he adores the way your eyes light up and how excited you get when you explain to him that desi weddings are filled with dancing and food and lots of people!

Sukuna's eyes go full blown with astonishment as you stride out of your room, wearing a red lehenga adorned with a garland in your hair and beautiful gold bangles clinking at your wrists. He can't help but lean back and stare at you, a faint smirk playing on his face as you brush by him; rushing to get your sandals.

He grabs you by the waist, holding you firmly as you walk past him. He whispers in your ear "Look at you, my darling girl..dressed like the Queen she is." His arms trail down to your wrists and he grasps them "You look as if you were made to sit on a throne" he purrs, slowly lowering yourself on his lap.

"-S-sukh" you managed to choke out your affectionate nickname for him. "I-i need my shoes.."

"Sweet girl" he murmurs. He grabs your face from behind, squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pucker. "The princess needs her shoes does she?" "Actually" you answer him, smirking slightly while looking deep into his eyes. "The Queen demands that her King put her shoes on for her." He laughs loudly, finding your demands amusing, adorable almost. Notheless, he obeys; kissing your henna covered hand and looking up at you. "Very well my queen"

The two of you arrive at your cousin's wedding, around the time of the reception. Sukuna decided to wear a red kurta as he said, "It would only be right to match with my queen." making you scoff yet blush at his act. Dark kajal surrounds his eyes complementing his magnificent dark red irises.

The reception lasts late into the night. Sukuna tastes Indian food for the first time, which he actually loves! He loves the spicy taste, not a single boring feeling on his tongue.

You force Sukuna to try gulab jamun. Begging and tugging at his sleeve. "Please 'kuna! Please it's so yummy!" you look up at him, batting your eyes, and looking at him with desperation; trying every trick in the book to make your boyfriend try the sticky sweet.

You bring the spoon to his lips, the sticky residue slightly coating his lips. He brings his mouth over the spoon, not breaking eye contact with you as he licks the sticky honey from his lips. "It tastes just like you" he breathed.

You smacked his shoulder for saying that, as a group of aunties were sitting right behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment finally comes, when they finally announce that it's the time to dance! You whoop and cheer along with the others as hoards of your cousins, uncles and aunties all rush to the dance floor.

You drag Sukuna to the floor with you. Laughing and giggling as your favorite song starts to play. "Dance with me!" you shout over the noise. "aao naachen!"

It gets messy real fast. Your shoes are kicked off in some random area, your dupata slid off your neck a while ago and pooled to the floor. You can feel Sukuna's firm hands on your hips as you move them up and down. His eyes watch intently as you spin around him, your red lehenga flowing just grazing your ankles, as your feet move in perfect coordination with your body.

To Sukuna, you looked just like a flower in the wind. Delicate, yet fierce and swaying with the wind. He turned his body to watch you spin, watching the pure bliss on your face and the excitement that came with it.

He grabbed you hand suddenly, disrupting your spin and causing you to be thrown into his chest as he caught you by the small of your back. "You really are a Queen my sweet girl." he whispered. His arms snake around your waist and pull you closer.

"Hmm am I now?" you smirked and slowly started to sway with him. "mm, not only that but a little minx too" he muttered, kissing your neck making you shiver in response. "You love it though." you retort, circling your arms around his shoulders playing with the back of his hair. He throws his head back, chuckling lightly. "You know I do."

sry ya'll I know that was really long but honestly I was debating if I should write a story or do more head cannons. (I'll probably do a poll abt it). constructive criticism is always welcome in the comments, i love to hear about ways to improve my writing!

>3333

[cult-of-the-eye]

@itisonlyeyes your henna design has made me think about jmart south Asian wedding and I'm Not Ok

Jon in a beautifully gorgeous deep green, bedazzled kurta/lehenga hybrid so like slightly more masculine kurta with some small, neat embroidery on the edges with a flowy huge lehenga skirt

He didn't go for the dupatta/orna/scarf cause hes still not great with potential restrictions of movement

He's all decked out in the bridal jewellery - my man is wearing the Biggest silver earrings, he's got the massive fake nose piercing that connects to his hair and hes SLAYING. (Maybe his grandma passed them down??)

You bet he's got that brooding bridal look down!! Although he sees Martin and he cannot keep it up for the life of him he's just a smiling mess

There's no loud music. (I know I'm sorry but it's them, the music is simple and meaningful and the guest list is small so its not quite the usual south Asian wedding but they enjoy themselves)

Martin is dressed very smartly in a light blue kurta, with billowing embroidery etching it's down up the kurta's sleeves and following in henna down his hands

He'd wearing light blue nail polish to match and his hair is dyed the same colour at the edges

I like the idea of Jon and martin sitting down and talking about what they wanted and coming up with the rituals not cause of the religious or cultural significance but because of what it meant to them specifically.

Like they do vows cause Martin has always loved that part of weddings and let's be honest, he just wants a chance to say nice things about Jon without him protesting and Jon agrees cause of literally the same reason (they're not good at compliments)

They do the turns around the fire but they hold hands instead of being tied to each other cause they feel like it represents how they chose each other and they do 15 turns cause it's Martin's lucky number (they first met on the 15th October 2015)

They skip the haldi cause sensory issues

They instead get everyone to make their own flower garlands and give them to each other and obviously Jon and Martin make each others flower garlands and Jon mostly agrees to it cause Martin seemed enthusiastic about it and he did want to keep the giving each other flower garland ritual but he gets the Most Excited about it in the end cause hes super detail oriented about his, making sure each flower is specifically positioned how he wants it to and Martin's going off just vibes. They must be the correct vibes but vibes nonetheless.

I love the idea of doing the bride's side has to steal the grooms shoes and the grooms side has to stop this from happening so we can get Shenanigans (Tim is the most intense about this. Gerry comes a close second. Sasha wins though.)

There aren't so much sides, cause everyone's friends with both, which makes the shoe game even more intense cause you never know when people will swap sides.

Gerry does their henna. He just gives off good at drawing vibes I dunno.

[miss-conjayniality]

sitarist jay (drabble)

genre: fluff

pairing: jay x gn south asian!reader

word count: 610

warnings: none

A/N: in honor of all the holidays coming up (holi, vaisakhi, ramadan/eid, etc.), AND also my srk x jay post that sparked desi enha discourse, this one goes out to all my desi engenes!!!! 🫶🏼 happy holi!!!! happy vaisakhi a month in advance. and a ramadan mubarak to those who celebrate.

soft desi engene hours. could u just IMAGINE sitarist!jay and dholi!you!?!??? 🥺

jay is grateful to have a lover who hails from such a gorgeous, rich culture that spans millennia. and as any connoisseur of culture would say - music isn’t just part of culture….it is culture. he’s been playing guitar for many years now. and he wants to venture out into other stringed instruments. and what better way than learning the sitar?

jay enjoys the calming, soulful, and twangy sound of the sitar. it sends him into a trance and he feels completely immersed in a different world. despite it being “different” from what he’s done before, he believes that the language of music is universal - one felt within the heart first and foremost.

he holds a deep reverence for south asian music. be it nusrat fateh ali khan, kishore kumar, mohammed rafi, noor jehan, or asha bhosle, he feels the timeless, evergreen spirit of such compositions pulse within his soul.

watching him learn the sitar is an endearing sight. ethereal even! seeing the level of dedication he has towards mastering such an art form warms your heart. he wants to learn bhajans, shabads, and ghazals for you. all he wants in life is to express his love for you through music. just chillin’ in his kurtas with the sleeves rolled up and his sitar by his side, showing you the ravi shankar songs he’s learned so far.

on the other hand, he too admires you for your passion for percussion. jay loves your appreciation towards the different types of dhol. he fawns over the euphoric feeling you get when hitting every thappi and tiparu and the way you chant your DHAs and DHINs while doing so. jay also appreciates the way you treat your dagga and tilli sticks like they’re your babies. he loves the swingy sound of dhol beats and the swagger you exude while you play.

jay sometimes gets annoyed when you pester him with the sound of your loud ass dhol while he’s peacefully and calmly practicing his sitar. but he knows it’s out of love and good fun. it’s the desi equivalent of the percussionist kids in band disrupting the ones who play the wind and brass instruments. antics aside, jay appreciates the lively spirit and camaraderie that comes with these musical clashes, cherishing the shared moments of cultural exchange and musical banter.

in the end, these musical escapades become cherished memories, shaping jay’s musical journey with a touch of spontaneity and joy. the blend of dhol and sitar, once seemingly contrasting, transforms into a celebration of diversity within your shared love for music. as the two of you continue your artistic pursuits, jay realizes that the moments of lighthearted banter and cultural exchange have added a special rhythm to the soundtrack of your relationship - one of seismic adoration.

with each note played and every shared laugh echoing in the air, jay acknowledges that your artistic pursuits have not only strengthened your musical connection with each other, but have also deepened your bond with him. the rhythm of seismic adoration encompasses the highs and lows, much like the crescendos and decrescendos in your collaborative performances. through the language of music, your relationship thrives, creating a symphony of understanding, support, and shared passion that resonates far beyond the notes of your instruments.

[ali-s4cc]

ASAD | outfit

Full Body Kurta Suit - Traditional South Asian Men's Clothing

New Mesh

HQ Texture

Male | Teen - Elders

30 Swatches

download

TSR VIP until 1.MAY.2023

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[pumpkinsy0]

thought of desi johnny for almost 2 years and never drew him srry king

look at this young south asian man in his kurta and a shawl to keep himself warm he got that shit on

if i drew the cultural attire wrong in anyway pls do tell me to keep in mind for if i ever draw johnny again in a blue moon

[misalpav]

south asians, the internalized bigotry needs to stop. we don't need to come to the usa or any other country for that matter and lose any semblance of our culture/religion. we don't owe that to anyone. people are allowed to wear a kurta, bindi, jhumkas, hijabs, or any other kind of cultural clothing of their choice. accents take time to adjust to and nobody has to change it the second they step into another country. it's okay to be proud of religion, food, language, clothes, etc. people who don't conform immediately or at all for that matter should not have to expect discrimination. hell, we certainly don't owe it to western society to integrate into their lifestyle, especially in countries like usa and australia where white people themselves are immigrants. quit the self-hate and the hate on other south asians, it doesn't make you cool.

[cishetlessfashion]

Desi/South Asian somewhat formal flamboyant dramatique butch drag king fashion with lots of accessories for anon Tactical gear Kali pvc patch Mustard yellow skinny scarf Blue and gold shawl Holographic Ganesh pin Lotus flower cufflinks Ganesh tie Kaleidoscope modi kurta vest Salvador Dali elephant necklace Hanuman brooch Yellow kurta pyjama

[daceofs]

Mystic Falls High

Part 1

I honestly do not know what I am doing

~~~~~

"Paddd...muh...nee"

"Padhumanidhi Sundarrajan" I blurted stopping the counselor from making my ears bleed, "I am the new transfer student."

"Yeah that's what I said" she muttered, "You are signed up for...?"

I take a deep breath, "AP biology, Integrated Math, Racket Sports, Theatre, Drawing and Painting, AP World history, French and AP Literature."

I knew it by heart because each subject was hand picked. Ivy league here I come.

She flippantly gives me a form, "fill out your club applications."

I smiled. Tightly,

I look through it,  I need to pick a minimum of two and I know exactly what they are, I eagerly fill the applications for Photography and chess. I wanted to pick films, but previous experiences have thought me that film clubs in US are not fun at all.

Chess has Asians and Indians, whichever little population of them this back water town has.

I submit my forms and take my schedule with a smile. Inside I'm shaking.

I'm wearing a short red kurta and jeans, I have simple bracelet, two gold earrings, a small miniscule bottu and my hair is plaited into a single messy braid. I wore two until last year, but I'm 17 now, so I'll wear  a single braid. But that still gets me a few weird looks.

Thankfully, I have my earphones and my ipod, A birthday gift. Yeno Yeno from Aadhavan soothes my nerves as I scramble to my history class.

The teacher is late.

Apparently he's new too so he begins to introduce himself.

"ALARIC SALTZMAN"

The name on the board reads, then he begins to explain how to pronounce his name and honestly I wish I could do that.

But it would be of no use.

I sigh and gear up for a busy day.

~

A week later

I am at school, everyone is dressed up, I am wearing a hoodies and my hair is a bun. Everyone is going to the dance, I am going to the chess club. Because today is the last day to 'officiate' my membership by showing up. I didn't even have time until now and now it bit me in the ass.

It's not that I was missing the dance. My mum would have barely allowed, I would have been so out of place. It's just that.. I feel like a creepy stalker.

I navigate around the halls and rooms, trying my best to not be seen.

I just need to dump these books in my locker. Take my Ipod and go to the club. Someone had stayed behind today for me... because there was a dance, it was officially school hours. It was a rare chance and I should make use of it.

Determined I walk into the empty hallway.

And.. immediately regret it.

Two, decidedly hot but also kind of creepy guys are right at the end of hall standing at the entrance to the small eatery with the vending machine.

The guy who is good at history, Stefan... I remind myself and another guy. He's older and creepier.

And they....

are both looking at me.

Vary.

It lights up my nerves on fire.

"Padmuh" Stefan asks. Oh god he knows my name, that's how he butchered it so well. I'm going to die. This is so awkward.

"Yeah?" I answer fidgeting.

"This is like shady parts of a city right now, what are you doing here?" the man asking is smiling but I know that it's not an innocent question at all. I can sense it. I just don't know why.

"Uhhh" I mutter, my lip curling in confusion, "this is my locker." I point at it. What is happening?

"Padmuh" Stefan starts again, ugh, that is not my name, "Why didn't you go to the decade dance?"

Am I being interrogated?

"It's just everyone is there.." he elaborates.

"Oh I couldn't go... I have work" I explain.

He nods.

I walk to my locker. The other one is staring at me, Stefan smacks him and he stops and turns to look at him. I shove my books in the locker. I take my ipod and walk away from there like I'm running away from an animal.

The entire time I could feel someone's eyes on me.

The experience grates on me and I drag my tired body to the club. I just want some peace and quiet until I finish this.

I step in and there is music... blaring...

"Devudaaa..

(Oh god)

Naa mathi chedipoyenu poorthiga,

(My mind has completely gone to ruin)

Ayanaa..."

(Yet)

(Noppi noppi song from Pokiri 2006)

Well at least it's not some rock garbage, it's a good song. I step in to the club room. With a strained smile that says 'touch me and I'll kill you.'

There is a single boy in the classroom and... he is Indian.

"Baagundhi haay-"

(It feels good-)

He pauses the song listening to my steps and goes rigid. The strain leaves a little from my smile.  He looks up and relaxes. He stands up and awkwardly extends his hand, my smile is not strained anymore.

"Hey"

"Hey"

I shake his hand, "Padhumanidhi Sundarrajan! Call me Padhma"

"Venkat Ghattamaneni" he follows.

"A telugu guy huh?" I ask, he gives a 'yeah' with a smile and I follow with, "I'm a tamilian."

"You're the only one here?"  I ask as we both sit down by something that looks like a table. I take out my bottle and start drinking some water.

"There were two other members, one transferred and the other..."

"Left?"

"Died!"

I spit out the water I was drinking and coughed. He laughed dryly despite himself and gently patted on my head.

"I was not expecting that!" I said still sputtering.

He sighed, "It was an animal attack, I wasn't in town... I didn't even know her name."

"Hmm" I hummed in thought, "sorry though."

We had nothing better to do... so we talked.

He told me that he had started living in the town three months prior. But was out of town for a week. His father's friend/colleague's daughter's wedding.

He'd just got back.

I told him I moved here a week ago.

That I missed my country and I missed my elder sister. She'd gotten into Yale.

He told me had an elder sister, she got into IIM and was back home.

He missed her terribly.

We had history, theatre, racket sports, integrated math and French together.

"Wait you were going to stay at the Salvatore boarding house?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah" I said with a chuckle, "We didn't find a house yet, the motels weren't good at all. But it cost an arm and a leg and my mum got really bad vibes."

"I am even surprised that you got to talk to someone in the house" he chuckled, "The guy from history, Stefan, I assume you know him, he's really good. He lives there apparently and they don't get customers. Like at all!"

"Wow" I exclaimed, "Good thing my dad asked around before trying to check in."

"Yeah... Good thing" he agreed.

Soon the session ended, we absolutely did nothing.

Then my dad called, he'd come to pick me up. By this time the school was already empty.

He was waiting at the entrance with an umbrella.

He smiled as soon as he saw me and I smiled back. It was a mild drizzle but I still got under the umbrella.

"How was the session ma?" He asked holding me around my shoulders.

"Semma pa" I grinned, "I made a friend."

(It was great)

Venkat had come out too. He was wearing a rain coat over his jacket.

I showed him to my dad.

My dad waved.

"Vanakkam uncle" he waved back, "I'm Venkat."

(Hello)

I cocked my brows in shock.

"My mum is half Tamilian... So, I'm quarter Tamilian" he explains with a smirk.

I look to my dad and smile, "Avuna sare ayithe..."

(Oh okay then)

This time he is shocked.

"My atha married a Telugu guy when I was 7" I explain.

Then a car pulls up behind ours and he goes, "that's my father."

A man around my dad's age gets out of the car also wearing a rain coat.

My dad and him exchange a hello and something about the roads in the town.

~

Around two weeks later

Venkat's family had come over to ours for dinner. My mum and his mum connected as the only Indian aunties in the entire town.

We lived in the same street, a few houses apart.

So, we were neighbors and to be family friends.

"Ma... can me and Venkat go for a walk while you guys talk?" I plead.. no beg.

She gives me a stern smile, "Walk where?"

"Just out" I say in a small voice, trying to give her puppy eyes.

"Don't go out of town" She says.

I nod dutifully and then walk out with a smile to my dad and Venkat's parents.

Venkat does the same and follows me out.

We lived on the near edge of the town, so it was more like don't go out of the block.

"So, where should we go?" he askes me just as we're out of the house.

"You're the host" I answer, "to this walk.. you should decide"

"Remember that Salvatore boarding house?"

"Hmm hmm"

"It's right around the lane" he reveals, "we could walk until the property, look at what gave your mother bad vibes and come back."

"Sure" I chirp.

We start on the way, "So, how's the town?" he asks.

"It's okay" I answer.

"Okay as in I am getting used to it and it's gonna be great or I hate it but I have to get used to it" he asks with a mischievous smile.

I mirror it and answer, "One of those."

He laughs. I join him.

"It's just that it's so different from India, from home, this town doesn't even have a theatre" I whine, "it might have a prissy theatre but it's not gonna play any Indian movies."

"You like movies?" he asks. "A lot" I answer, "Especially Indian movies. You don't?"

"I looove them" he almost purrs.

"There's this new movie coming out" I say, enthusiasm filling me, "It's a Telugu movie. You probably know it."

"Which one?" he asks, curious and excited.

I think for it's telugu name, then it strikes me, "Magadheera" I announce.

"Ohh" he mirrors my excitement, "I am madly waiting for it."

"But how do we watch it" I dampen the mood, "it's not gonna play around here."

"It will play in Cincinnati" he points out, "it's a few hours  from here."

"My parents will never agree" I say rolling my eyes.

"Well neither will mine" he joins in, "but we could ask nicely. There's a train."

"One can try" I cave into his hope, "how do we do it?"

"Sudden perfect grades, chores.. what else?" He schemes.

"That should do it" I confirm, "We'll see if it works."

We're about to enter the property and we can see the boarding house from here.

"Ta da" he  says pointing at it.

"That" I mutter, "is definitely haunted."

"I know right" he chuckles.

Then we hear it. A strange rustle with a rush of air, it's not human.

Then it happens again, and..

"Jai hanuman gyan guna sagar, jai kapeesha tihun loka ujaagar

Rama dhoota athulitha baladhama, anjani putra pavana sutanamaa"

(Hanuman Chalisa)

(Hail hanuman who is an ocean of knowledge, who is from the kapi clan and who is known in all three worlds…

Rama’s messenger, strong beyond comprehension, the son of anjana and the heir of the god of wind.)

Venkat nearly screams, I look at him ready to laugh, but he is completely serious and gesturing at me to move. So,

"Mahaveera vikrama Bajrangi, Kumati Nivaara Sumati Ke Sangi

Kanchan varsna viraaja Subesaa, Kanan kundal kunchit kesa"

(Greatest of warriors, valiant as thunder, friend to the good and exterminator of the bad)

I sing with him as we kind of, no, definitely ran from there.

We're at  "Raghupati Kinhi Bahut Badaai, Tum Mama Priya Bharata Sama Bhaii" by the time we reach the road and then he stops, so I stop.

(Rama gave you the greatest praise, ‘you are as dear to me as my dear brother bharat’)

Then I start laughing while I am panting and he's just panting.

"Did you seriously just scream Hanuman Chalisa?" I ask him, incredulous and near hysteric.

"I did not scream it" he says, weakly.

I laugh some more.

"It worked didn't it" he points out.

"That it did!"

~

What on God's Green earth was that?

Damon has been alive for lot more than a century and this is the first time, he had seen such a reaction when he preys on someone.

He was so weirded out that he didn't even eat them.

"Only in mystic falls" he muttered as he vamped back to boarding house.

"Found anything" Stefan asked now changed from the shirt Frederick stabbed him in, but still wincing and favoring the side.

"This is exactly why I tell you to drink people blood"  he pointed out again.

Stefan gives him a bitch face. Well your loss baby brother, just don't bleed on my carpet again, just don't bleed again.

"No sign of any tomb vamps" he says, then pauses, considers.

"but?" Stefan asks, "There is a but, I feel that but."

"I saw that girl from the other day" I confess.

"Padmuh?" he asks.

"Yeah she was with an Indian boy" I continue.

"Whenkat?" He asks again.

"You know him?" I ask him back, I could do with information like that.

"How many 17 year old high school going Indian boys are there in this town?" He deadpans.

"Well something is weird about them" I brush him off, "I tried to scare them..."

"Damon" Stefam admonishes.

"They were on the property, right after two vampires tired to attack us unprovoked on a perfectly good evening" I droll the dangers into his dense head.

"They were on the property?" Stefan asks puzzled.

"Just outside" what does it matter duh! "The point is they're suspicious. The boy came into town with you and the girl came into town with Alaric. They might be working with Noah!"

"Damon" Stefan whines, "they both have families. They are perfectly normal. They-"

"How are they in school?" I cut him off.

Stefan rolls his eyes. Rude, "Well they're polite, nice. They're very studious and have strict parents. They mostly keep to themselves though."

"We saw her right after the dance being all sketchy. They weren't at the dance. They weren't at the desirable bachelor thing."

"Because it was for people in mid 20s like you... there were rarely any kids present" he counters again.

"Well then explain this brother... the day I didn't get Katherine out of tomb... every stupid child in the town was at Dull or Duke or whatever's party. Except for them" Damon presents fool proof evidence.

"Strict parents Damon"  Stefan drawls.

"I still think they're fishy... they don't act like regular students" I emphasise.

"They're not regular students" Stefan points out, "both are emigrants and exchange students."

Yeah sure Sherlock

~

Hindsight is such a bitch.

Stefan is now an anti therapeutic punching bag and he needs Van Helsing ripoff and little miss Katniss to get him out.

He manages to goad the hunter/teacher into helping them. He shows them stuff he had specifically brought  to kill Damon and oh goodie how useful.

They each stock themselves and come up with a fool proof contingency plan.

Well it's not fool proof but he doesn't have the time for it.

I exit the room, Alaric and Elena on my heels and there she is.

The suspicious girl from other night.

She doesn't look like a hermit this time but she shouldn't even be here.

When he's making a plan to get his vampnapped brother out.

I give a smile which is actually a sneer and she clutches the books in her hands tight as if they could offer any protection.

Alaric jumps in, unnecessarily, "Padmuh... what are you doing here? It's not a school day.."

"Mr Saltzman" she greets him, then continues, "Ms Jones asked me if to help her with a project for extra credit."

She looks at Elena and fidgets.

I roll my eyes with a sigh. Have we learned nothing?

"Were you eavesdropping on us? Answer truthfully" I compel her.

"Damon" I hear Elena... Gee Elena, it's not like we have the clock ticking to a rescue and cannot risk any failures.

"Chiii" the girl exclaims, uhm, then she continues, "why would I ever do that?"

(Ewww)

"Well then I want you to forget this conversation" I compel again.

"I want that too, I'll try" she replies with barely hidden disdain.

You'll what...

"I'm sorry, we were just doing some founder's business" Elena covers immediately. Ooh clever.

Except she's on Vervain Elena.

"Yeah no problem" she says in a rush and sidesteps me.

Before I can act, "We need to go" Elena drags me ahead.

"She's on Vervain" I hiss.

"We can worry about that later"  she hisses back.

"Paagal Saale" I hear a murmur. Is she hexing us?

(Lunatic bitch)

But I feel nothing and I don't have time for this now. So, I comply.

~

Founders day rolls around and hell breaks loose.

Damon is still greedily gulping his blood bag. He reeks of ash and smoke and hates it with every fibre of being.

He feels Stefan's eyes on him and that grates him even more.

"What were you doing down there?" he manages to ask. He knew Stefan wasn't down there, he'd checked, it was the first thing he did.

"Saving your ass" comes the answer.

"Why?" he wants to know.

"You're my brother... Go Figure" Nonchalance huh brother it doesn't suit you.

He doesn't even say it out loud. Just gives a listless smile.

"That went so well" someone squeals and they both become alert.

'Went well?' what kind of diabolical-

"We should do that again" some else says and they're bloody chuckling and he wants to snap their neck.

"Who was that?" he grates, "Someone from council?"

"Has to be" Stefan says, the tomb vampires are all dead after all.

"We should plan it better though" he can hear it better now and he knows it's a girl and he's heard her before.

"Yeah it got quite late" the other one's a boy and he's heard him too.

"Yeah well..." the rest turns into garble as a taxi stops by them.

"Padmuh" Stefan realises, "and Whenkat!"

They're too weak and slow to follow them now, "We've got to deal with them."

"Damon" Stefan chides.

"You heard them" Damon hisses, "they had a plan, it went well... who knows what they did!"

~

"So... we watched Magadheera" Padhma squeals into her phone, "Akka it was so good."

(Big sister)

"Wow" Maitreyi, her sister replies equally enthusiastic, "You sound like you enjoyed it a lot. How was Cincinnati?"

"It was okay" she answered, "better than this backwater town."

"I wish we could have watched it together" Maitreyi says with a small whine.

"Next time come to Cincinnati" she suggests.

"Or I'll take you all to New York" Maitreyi counters.

"Brilliant" she chirps.

They chat for a few more minutes before hanging up, she comes down to the living hall.

Her parents are talking about something seriously.

"Ma" she asks tentatively, "everything okay? How was the celebration?"

"It was great kanna" her mother answers, "but there was an accident. The mayor died."

(Sweetheart)

"Oh" her eyes widen in shock, "that's so sad."

"Yeah" her father sighs, patting her shoulder, "We're all going to the memorial tomorrow."

"Should we take anything?" her mother ponders.

"Lasagna, apparently" Her father answers.

"That is so weird" her mom says and they all chuckle.

How very morbid!

~

"Hey there's Tyler" Venkat says taking a sip of water, everything else is alcoholic here and their parents would kill us if they as much as drank a glass. They're at the memorial, the entire town is.

Their parents are talking to other adults and after the formalities, here they are, in the garden.

"Oh yeah" Padhma ponders, "should we go say hi?"

"We don't even know the guy" He points out.

"It's a minimum curtesy" She counters.

Their argument comes to moot when he walks inside the house, away from the crowd with a guy who just arrived, must be a relative.

"Well" he smirks. She shakes her head. The she smiles.

"Oh hey there's coffee" she chirps. He perks up, "Now you don't have to worry about feeding only water to your manly body."

"I never said that" he says abashed.

"No?" she teases. She picks up a cup of it, with a straw in the lid and hands it to him. He takes it with a tip of an absent hat.

He sips it and immediately spits it out.

Padhma looks at him startled, then looks around embarrassed. He collects himself and stops sputtering. They both look around before he puts the cup aside.

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, "Wow!"

He raises his finger to point in his defense, "It was hot and there was no milk. Why are they serving espressos at a funeral?"

"Would you prefer they served Iced caramel lattes?" she asks with a huff.

"As a matter of fact" he answers, "yes!"

~

"No" This idiot. We watched it all happen, they're frolicking chatting something we can't catch and he's still in denial.

"Stefan, listen" Damon implores despite himself, "he took a sip of coffee and spit it out. The coffee has vervain in it. That's exhibit 1, Exhibit 2... the other day I couldn't compel her. Exhibit 3, she was being shady in an empty hallway. You were right there, Exhibit 4-"

"Damon" Stefan sighs, "you're spiraling. The other day you were convinced that they were in the council. Now you're convinced he's a vampire and she's a witch. This isn't fanfiction Damon."

"No little brother" Damon drawls, "This is our very real messed up life which is why there are no coincidences. Especially because Katherine is here."

"Fine" Stefan relents, finally, "there's a high school carnival tonight..."

"We'll take care of them there" Damon finishes.

"No" Ugh, Stefan, "We'll investigate."

"Fine" Damon relents, "how do we know they'll show up, given everything they've... skipped?"

"I'll invite them" Stefan answers.

Well...

~

They're, embarrassingly, chuckling like teenagers when Venkat sees Stefan approach them.

"Oh shit" he mutters.

She follows his sight and her eyes widen, she hits him lightly and mumbles, "I told you this wasn't appropriate behavior."

She turns to Stefan who is now standing just a couple feet before them, "We're sorry. We know this is disrespectful."

Surprisingly, he chuckles, "Oh no.. I know funerals can be boring, especially when you know no one."

"Yeah" Venkat nods with a guilty smile, "but we're still sorry."

"Don't worry about it" Stefan says, "I'm not policing you guys."

She gives him a strained smile, he continues, "I was just wondering why you guys didn't show up to the Founder's day celebrations..."

"Oh yeah" she drawls, they skipped it, "We were out of station. Our parents went, initially we were supposed to come too but well our schedules clashed."

"Your schedules clashed?" He asked confused, "What happened?"

"Well" Venkat answered, "We went to Cincinnati to watch a movie."

Stefan looks baffled, "you went to Cincinnati.. to.. watch a movie?"

At the expense of not sounding crazy, Padhma continues, "It's an Indian movie. It doesn't play around here."

"Oh" he almost sighs, "I see. You guys like movies huh?"

Venkat shrugs and Padhma chuckles. "I like them too" he continues.

"Really?" Venkat asks and Padhma follows, "are you in the film club here?"

"No" Stefan says with a dry laugh, "listen there's a school Carnival tonight. I'm sure you know.. are you planning to come?"

"Uhm" she mumbles not knowing what to say.

"You should come" he implores.

"We will come" Venkat answers, "thanks for the invite Stefan."

He nods with a smile, they smile back and he leaves.

"You think they'll agree?" Padhma turns to Venkat.

"Sure they will" Venkat answers, "It's a high school event and we've been on our best behaviour."

~

"Well played Fincher" Damon teases him as soon as he comes back, "smooth."

"We have to find out who the 'they' they were referring to is." Stefan says not playing that game.

"We will" Damon smirks.

~

"This is the worst high school carnival of my life" Damon says phantom dusting his pants.

"This is the only high school carnival of your life" Stefan points out standing beside him.

"Har har Stefan" Damon bites. Stefan smirks.

"So... we've got problems 1,2,3 covered... moving on to problem 4... where are the brown love birds?" Damon quips.

"I did spot them earlier, they were playing some games" Stefan answers, "They should be around."

"Let's go find them" Damon smirks all evil debauchery in glory.

Finding two shifty possibly humans or maybe vampires should be easy for two fine vampires such as the Salvatores.

Except they've combed the entire ground and haven't found a whiff of trace.

"Where are they?" Damon almost shouts, annoyed.

"They'll be here.. they'll be here.." Stefan placates.

"Who are you searching for?" Elena asks them having seen the fuss.

"Have you seen Padmuh and Whenkat?" Stefan asks her, in a 'this is important but don't worry' tone.

"Padmuh and Whenkat?" She asked.

"Yes" Damon hissed, "the Indians."

"They left" she stated.

"They left?" Stefan asked, incredulous.

"Yeah.." she said confused, "something about a curfew."

Stefan looks at Damon, completely exasperated.

"Curfew?!" Damon bites, borderline hysterical, "IT'S 9:30!!"

To be continued

Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/daceofs/767922715345764352/so-we-start-from-season-2-episode-3-season