#jervis tetch x you

[acapelladitty]

Mad Hatter/Reader - Lessons

Summary - Undertaking another one of Jervis' 'etiquette' lessons proves to be a wicked undertaking indeed. (tw: dom/sub themes, teasing, oral sex, food kink etc)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Delicately picking up the small silver spoon, you bring it to your lips in a pretend sip as you announce your answer with a shaky confidence.

"Soup."

"Excellent, March Hare." Jervis' lilting voice trails out from his unseen spot behind you. "A soup spoon indeed! From tomato to broth to mock turtle. You're doing well."

Flushing with pride at the willing praise, you sigh and rub your thighs together; agitating the egg-shaped vibe which lay nestled between the walls of your sex. Wearing nothing but a white ruffled collar and a pale blue skirt so scandalously short that it may as well have been a belt, the cool air of Jervis' apartment was as familiar as ever as you remain in your place at his large kitchen table.

Speaking of the man himself, his thin hand appeared from your side, pointing expectantly at another piece of polished silverware. This one was a fork, its shape slightly smaller than the one to its side and your muddled brain struggles to remember what the hell it was for - the hesitation making your heart pick up its pace within your chest.

Rolling your ass against the chair, the movement has the unfortunate side-effect of shifting the vibe and its new position draws a keening moan from your lips.

"Jervis, oh my god-"

"Hush, March Hare!" Jervis scolds and you flinch as the tip of the riding crop which you know is sitting in his other hand arcs around to bounce off your right nipple, instantly sparking a heat-laced pain across your chest. "It's rude to speak over someone trying to give a lesson."

Fighting the urge to raise your hands and brush them across your pebbled and aching nipples, you instead focus on picking up the small china teacup which has long since been filled with tea for you to enjoy as you endured your etiquette lesson. However, the cup had barely touched your lips when your unspoken desires were answered as the reappearance of his hands made you flinch - the cool palms quickly gripping your chest in a rough pinch as Jervis' staggered breathing makes itself known just behind your head.

Delighted, you sigh into the cup as you arch your back ever so slightly, giving him easier access to your aching tits as the stimulation makes your cunt clench even more roughly around the vibe.

Finishing the last few drops of tea, you deposit the teacup back onto its assigned plate noisily as your shaking fingers make the fine china clink together. His small digits now kneading your tits almost thoughtfully, Jervis seems to be waiting for something as his mint-laden breath washes past your left ear.

Realising you were missing something, a gasp of delirious pleasure escapes you as his fingers pinch your nipples playfully - pulling at the sensitive buds as he tuts disapprovingly into your neck.

"A finished cup, my sweet rabbit. And no cry for a place change? Clean cup, clean cup. So easily forgotten."

Opening your mouth to say the words, his hand is quick to clamp around your lips and you can taste a subtle and sweet, almost sugary substance on his fingers.

"What a sad tea party." He continues to scold, his free hand teasing down your stomach, tracing every fleshy inch with reverence. "With manners and etiquette thrown to the crocodiles."

His finger drops to the seat, curling back on itself as he splits your slit and you widen your legs to allow him free access. A clear goal in mind, your body starts like it were shocked as the soft pad of his finger rubs a delicate circle around your engorged, neglected clit.

"Jervis."

"Mmm, my rabbit?"

"Don't stop." You breathe out shakily, the tightening band of arousal making your legs tremble slightly as your toes curl towards the floor.

"Please- please don't sto-"

The plea is cut short by his fingers as his free hand presses a thin sliver of cake to your lips - the sugary vanilla taste catching you by surprise as you obediently open your mouth to swallow it.

He enjoyed this.

Feeding and watering you.

The spark which alit in his eyes as he provided for you was as endearing as it was erotic - food play long having since established itself in your games as sweet treats and edibles were shared between you.

Unfortunately, his movements caught you off guard and a small dollop of light blue buttercream slipped free of your bottom lip to drop to the lowest ruffle of your white, embroidered collar.

A theatrical gasp rings in your ear and you whine as his wicked fingers scuttle away from your aching cunt. Any protest dies however as a flash of silver just at the corner of your eye makes you still and you feel the faintest edge of his pocketknife trailing across the sensitive juncture where your collarbone meets the shoulder.

"Messy rabbit." Jervis mutters, slipping the knife up to press against the white ruffled collar which he had gently looped around your neck at the beginning of your lesson. "No point wasting a lovely outfit on such a messy rabbit."

The ruffled collar falls free into a crumpled heap in your lap, but it's swiftly removed as Jervis snatches it up with his fingers and deposits it in the pockets of his slacks.

"Hold out your hand."

More than a little petulantly, you hold your palm out and he's quick to move as he swaps the knife for the riding crop which remains tucked under his armpit. Striking down harshly, the cool leather slices across your palm in a bolt of heat and you wince at the discomfort as he stands to move before you.

"Maybe my lessons are wasted?" Jervis continues, his thin hands pressing down on your exposed thighs as his blue eyes pierced your own. "Trying to turn my March Hare into a proper lady might be one of the six impossible things I have to imagine before breakfast?"

You glance up at him, blinking your eyes coquettishly as you beg forgiveness with only a look.

"Touch me." He continues in a rough demand, accented voice slightly roughened by his clear arousal as he stands fully. The darkened slacks do little to hide how hard he is, the fabric bulging over the jut of his clothed cock, and you run your palm across it gently, enjoying just how aroused he is by his little game with you.

Looping your hands within his belt, you quickly loosen the leather and allow it to hand free. His shortened height makes the task much easier and you smile at the slight inhale he makes when your hands unzip his fly and free his straining cock from its confines. Within your cunt, the vibe pressing against your walls makes it difficult to concentrate as you clench around it desperately, chasing the release which was slowly approaching.

"My Hatter," you purr as you wrap a hand around his length, fingers brushing the blonde curl of pubes which decorate the base, "and my sweet, kindly teacher. Maybe you deserve a reward for helping me out with all these hard lessons."

Stroking along his cock, you groan sharply as the vibe within you rockets up another level and the sudden onslaught of vibration is enough to quickly tip you over the edge that has threatened you for so long. Hand dropping to curl around the edge of the wooden chair, you grind your cunt against the wood as your release forces a guttural moan from your lips - every nerve in your body firing off as your teeth bite down on your lower lip hard enough that you taste copper through the pleasurable aftershocks.

The vibrations don't stop but they do back off slightly, reducing to a pleasant hum which makes you twitch in place as your release pools across your cunt and thighs - making a sordid mess of the chair itself.

"Now, now, March Hare! Distractions aren't appreciated when hard work is required." Jervis taunts but his expression is satisfied and oddly predatory as he watches you suffer through your pleasures.

"Focus."

And with that, he jerked his hips forward with clear intent, targeting his cock upwards towards your mouth. Giving a cheshire grin, you drop your head slightly to make up the space and take him within your mouth; your hand swiftly reappearing to wrap around his velvety length as he demands his payment.

He tastes as familiar as ever, the salt of his pre-cum cutting through the sugariness of the cake he had forced in there earlier and you moan around his cockhead - enjoying the way that the vibrations from your moan make his eyes widened and his mouth go slack.

He's as vocal as ever as his lips spill free a mixture of muffled grunts and sweet whispers - your name mixing with soft praises as you bob your head along his length, matching the movement by twisting your wrist with every stroke.

It doesn't take him long; the eroticism of your 'lessons' and his love of your mouth making him come more quickly than he may have liked and his hands press gently at the sides of your head to keep your lips around the tip of his cock as his release floods your mouth.

Swallowing down what he has to offer, you drink in his whimpering groans with equal enthusiasm as you focus on pleasing him. As gentlemanly as ever, he pulls free of your mouth quickly and you catch your breath as he tucks his wilting cock away in his slacks.

In a flash, he's dropping to his haunches before you and his mouth is on your own - tasting himself as much as you as his tongue demands entry. It's a playful kiss, part thanks and part apology as his thumb rubs gently along the developing welt on your palm from his earlier punishment.

"My Match Hare." He mutters, whispering the words into your mouth.

Matching his energy, your hands slip up his shoulders to tug gently at the blonde hairs which sit at the nape of his neck.

"My Hatter."

[starleska]

barges in/ WHAT ABOUT BTAS JERVIS X READER?

OWO

why, thank you for asking 😉 i've had this persistent concept knocking around my brain wherein Jervis earnestly tries to move past his devotion for Alice...only to tumble straight back down into obsession when he meets You 😳

Jervis Tetch x Reader First Meeting headcanons

🎩 although it pains him to admit it, the years of unrequited love have taken their toll on Jervis. his Alice is long gone—departed from Gotham with her now-husband (filthy brute), with a new name and her hair dyed a mousey brown. as far as he can tell, she's dropped off the map entirely, and it's been nearly a year since he last caught any trace of her. months in yet another cold, lonely stint at Arkham leave his soul more empty than ever before...and he decides, one lovelorn night, that such suffering should not befall a gentleman. although the thought sickens him, Jervis resolves that when he gets out, he is going to make a fresh start...even just for a while.

🎩 when finally he next escapes (his technology being instrumental in a jailbreak largely orchestrated by the other rogues, of course—no need for him to do their dirty work), Jervis makes good on his promise and leaves Gotham for a few cities over. he travels in civilian clothes and fights the urge to wear any sort of hat, fearing that even a simple cap could betray his identity. yet the experiment is a success. within days he has sequestered himself in an unassuming little apartment, and even ventured out to speak with a neighbour or two, none of whom recognise him as The Mad Hatter. it's a queer feeling, not seeing fear reflected in the eyes of those around him...and it gives him a quiet thrill which makes him forget himself, leaving Jervis grinning far too wide.

🎩 still, Jervis is a man with certain compulsions. he's partial to an afternoon walk, and at 3 o'clock exactly makes his way out into his new city, looking for nothing in particular and simply enjoying air without walls. however, he soon comes across a quaint little teashop, its sign scrawled in a delightful Shakespearean font and the windows ringed with English ivy. "How serendipitous," Jervis murmurs to himself. "I shan't pass up an opportunity such as this...after all, you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling!"

🎩 Jervis orders his usual beverage without incident and takes a seat which gives him an excellent view of the whole teashop. his discerning blue eyes scan the room, but it isn't until he's cleared half the customers that he realises he was searching for a glimpse of Alice's golden hair. Jervis sighs, and takes a long, sad sip of his tea—only to splutter when he spots You in the corner of the room. You are tucked up with your legs crossed, your nose buried in a book. there's a little half-smile on your face, and Jervis watches with interest as you chuckle at something you read. he stares at You and the book, and an icy chill of recognition works its way down his spine.

🎩 before he can stop himself, Jervis abandons his tea and makes his way over to You. for a full minute he looms over You quite unnoticed, so absorbed You are by your book. after quietly clearing his throat does not catch your attention, Jervis opts to take the direct approach. "Excuse me, my dear." You look up, curious. Jervis smiles with all his teeth—too bright, too intense. "I do hope you'll forgive my impudence, interrupting you on a fine day such as this. But may I ask...what are you reading?"

🎩 "Oh!" You say with a giggle. You turn the book towards Jervis, revealing the cover. "I'm reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It's my favourite story."

[caesariawritesstuff]

Dear Alice

Summary: Jervis Tetch serves you tea, and you love every part of him.

Content Warning: Short & Sweet Fluff

Word Count: 613

● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ● Read on Ao3 ●

“More tea, Alice?” Jervis asks.

You smile. “Why certainly,” you answer, holding out your cup to him. It’s empty, and you’re eager for your third cup. The taste of cinnamon and citrus lingers on your tongue. Your eyes linger on him just a little too long, the way his hands shake as he steadies the teapot carefully over your cup.

You can’t help but admire him; he looks a little disheveled.  Strands of brown hair fall gently at the sides of his face. There’s a hint of stubble growing across his cheeks and jaw, but you don’t mind. He’s scruffy looking in a sophisticated, Victorian-era way.

When he’s finished pouring your tea, he looks up at you and smiles. You bring your cup to your lips and sip. He sets the teapot down and rubs his hands together in excitement.

“Does this Wonderland please you? I’d hate to see you so blue. It’s been such a lonely year without you here,” he says. His eyes are sad, yet patient, as he awaits your answer.

Your gaze strays to the rest of the room. To the men lining the walls, wearing rabbit masks, guns in their hands. To the shadows creeping in the corners and yet, the lively party set out in front of you. Tiny cakes and treats and sweets of all kinds. Card tea sandwiches and, scones, and jam tarts.

The truth is that you don’t mind living here with him, with Jervis. He may be the embodiment of the Mad Hatter, but you are the everything that ever was and ever will be Alice. Your hair is pulled back with a black headband, and you’re wearing a blue dress in the exact style of the beloved character. But Alice is not fictional, not to you, because you are her and she is you. You’ve known it since you were a child, since the very first time you cracked open the pages of that dusty old book.

“Dear Alice, have I upset you so?” Jervis asks when you haven’t answered in a long while. “Please don’t fret, don’t go, don’t go.” His words are louder now, desperate.

You turn your attention to him and smile. “What was that?” you ask, so lost in thought you didn’t quite understand him.

“Alice, my dear Alice please,” he says again, reaching forward to catch your hand in his, rough fingers against your soft flesh. “I—”

Then, it’s as if what he said catches up to you. Your brain registers what he’d previously said, when you were listening but so taken aback by the Wonderland he’d built for the two of you that you hadn’t quite registered his words.

“Jervis,” you say, placing another hand over his to calm him, and he closes his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Do you mean that, dear Alice? Do you truly mean that? Please tell me your words are not filled with malice,” he says, a light jilt, a deep sorrow resonating in his tone. Too many fake Alice’s he’s lost along the way.

“Yes, my dear Hatter. I really do,” you reply. Because you are the real Alice, the one always meant for him. The moment you met eyes, that tiny spark of realization shooting between the two of you like lightning, there was nothing you could do to stop it. And you’ve never looked back.

Because he, Jervis Tetch, is all that matters to you. You are Alice and he is the Mad Hatter. Two beings made for one another, and you would not let your Wonderland and future be anything but frabjous days for all the years to come.

[knoepfl]

“Through the Looking Glass”

Characters:

Jervis Tetch (Mad Hatter) – A deranged and lonely man obsessed with Alice in Wonderland, using mind control to twist others into playing roles in his delusions.

Reader (You) – A new obsession for Jervis. He sees you as his perfect "Alice" and will do anything to keep you by his side.

Trigger Warnings:

Obsession and mental manipulation

Kidnapping and mind control themes

Unreliable perception of reality

Masterlist

Words: 1063

The narrow streets of Gotham were shrouded in a thick mist, moonlight filtering weakly through the haze. You knew it was dangerous to wander alone at night, but something had compelled you to move through the darkness, as if pulled by invisible strings.

And then, you’d found him—or maybe he’d found you.

You woke up in a room draped with tattered silk and moth-eaten velvet, the air heavy with the scent of stale tea and dusty books. A single flickering lamp cast uneven shadows across the mismatched furniture, giving everything a distorted, dreamlike quality.

“Ah, my dear!” a familiar, singsong voice echoed from the doorway. “You’ve finally arrived. The long wait is over—at last, Alice is home.”

You blinked groggily, disoriented, your head pounding as you tried to sit up. Across the room stood a slender man dressed in a patchwork suit, his wide-brimmed top hat tilted at a jaunty angle. His pale face stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“W-Where am I?” you whispered, glancing around.

Jervis Tetch clasped his hands together, a delighted laugh bubbling from his lips. “Where you’re supposed to be, my dear—right here, with me! The Mad Hatter and his Alice, just as it’s meant to be. Isn’t it wonderful?”

You frowned, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together how you ended up here. You remembered… nothing. Just foggy images—his voice, warm and inviting, guiding you through the night. And now you were here, wherever here was.

“Let me go,” you said, heart racing. “I don’t belong here.”

Jervis’s smile faltered for only a second before snapping back into place, though the cheer in his eyes flickered with something far more dangerous. “No, no, no, my dear… you mustn’t say such silly things. Of course you belong here—you’re my Alice. And every Alice needs her Wonderland!”

He stepped closer, movements light and graceful, as though he were gliding through a dream. “The real world is so… dreadful, don’t you think? But here, oh… here, we can play and dance and drink tea forever.”

You tried to stand, but your legs wobbled beneath you. Jervis caught you before you could collapse, his hands strangely gentle. “Careful now,” he cooed, “you’ve had quite the journey. You must rest, my dear. There’s so much to do, so much to see—but first, you must adjust.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. “What did you do to me?”

Jervis tilted his head, as if pondering the question. “I only gave you what you needed. A way out, a way here. You see, the world is cruel, my sweet Alice. It breaks hearts, crushes dreams…” His voice dropped into a hushed whisper. “But not in Wonderland. Not here with me.”

You pulled back from him, your pulse thundering in your ears. “I’m not Alice. I don’t even know who you are!”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his expression twisting into something equal parts disappointment and frustration. “Ah, my dear… You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? But that’s quite all right. Memory can be such a troublesome thing. In time, it will come back.”

He crouched before you, tilting his head like a curious child. “You see, everyone needs a story, my dear. A role to play. And yours… oh, yours is the most important of all. You are Alice, and I—” He gave a grand, sweeping bow. “—am your humble Mad Hatter.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your limbs refused to obey. A strange, hazy warmth clouded your mind, as though a part of you were slipping deeper into his web with every passing second.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered, his voice soft and hypnotic. “The more you resist, the more it hurts. Just let go… and fall through the looking glass.”

Jervis took your hand gently, guiding you toward a small, cluttered table set with chipped porcelain cups and mismatched saucers. The teapot in the center let off a trail of steam, filling the room with the scent of chamomile and madness.

“Sit, sit!” he urged, practically vibrating with excitement. “We must have tea—oh, yes! A very merry un-birthday to you!”

You sank into the chair without meaning to, as though your body responded to his commands without your permission.

He poured tea with a flourish, eyes gleaming with manic joy. “Ah, isn’t this perfect? Just as it should be. No more lonely nights. No more searching. We’re together now, and we’ll never be apart.”

You stared into the swirling tea, mind racing as you tried to break free of the strange fog dulling your thoughts. “Please… let me go.”

Jervis paused, teapot still in hand, his expression darkening like a sudden storm. “Let you go?” His voice was soft, almost hurt. Then, slowly, it twisted into a low, bitter laugh. “Oh, Alice… You still don’t understand, do you? You’re already gone.”

He reached out, tracing a finger along the rim of your cup. “There is no escape from Wonderland, my dear. No way out, no way back. This is where you belong. With me.”

His hand drifted to your cheek, caressing it with unsettling tenderness. “We’ll be so happy here. I’ll keep you safe, my sweet Alice. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Tears stung your eyes as you fought against the haze, struggling to remember who you were before this nightmare began. But the memories were slippery, fading like smoke through your fingers.

Jervis’s gaze softened, and for a brief, haunting moment, you saw something vulnerable in his eyes—something desperate and broken, clinging to the only fantasy that gave his fractured mind meaning.

“Don’t cry, my dear,” he whispered, leaning closer. “You’re home now. And I’ll take care of you… always.”

His voice was a lullaby, drawing you deeper into the dream. The room seemed to spin, the edges of reality unraveling like threads pulled from a tapestry.

“You’ll see,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “In time, you’ll forget all about that dreadful world. And then, my dear Alice…” His lips curled into a soft, dreamy smile. “We’ll be together, forever and ever.”

And as the world faded around you, slipping into a haze of tea parties and riddles, you realized—maybe you were already too far gone to wake up.

Because in his Wonderland, the Mad Hatter always got his Alice...

[iepurasdepraf]

ᒍEᖇᐯIᔕ TETᑕᕼ: ᒪIGᕼTᔕ OᑌT - ᑭᗩᖇT 1

Music for this part - Part 2

Acrid smoke stung your eyes between the passes of the oscillating fan that gave you respite while the cigarette between your teeth burned down a little by little. You were putting all your attention into counting and just been letting it burn at this point. Sucking that cancer in or not, you needed it. Praying to the god of Marlboro that a hit of nicotine will keep your eyes open just a bit longer even if it made it harder at the same time. 

At the tail end of a nine hour shift, you had counted the same bills three times and come up with different numbers each time. Tired to the bones, it was day four of five of work and you had to come back tomorrow at seven pm. It was four forty seven am. You shouldn't have covered those three hours for Chitchat so she could go on that date. She owed you.

You just wanted to go home. Take a nice hot shower while you could still stand up then sleep. Fuck getting groceries tomorrow before work. Thirteen minutes and you were free. Just thirteen more. Thinking about it makes your arms feel heavier. Even counting the cash felt like a chore at this point, but you wanted to exchange the ones and fives in the club rather than making yourself a mark with trash bags full of cash on the subway.

“Hey, Bans! You got a guy!”

You couldn’t even manage a groan. After squeezing your eyes shut for a moment and letting your head tilt back to try to gather yourself as best you can, you rip the cigarette out of your mouth, asking as nicely as you could manage in spite of how your body was tensed up “Table or VIP?” “I dunno,” The other girl said, waddling past you with one of her heels off already, feet bright red from being on them all night. “Just asked for you on my way back and I said I’d get you for him.”

You snuff your smoke out slightly too aggressively, but luckily she doesn’t notice. You weren’t mad at her and didn’t want her to think that so you make sure to check yourself. Whatever, hopefully this would end with a big fat tip for your efforts. Not a bad way to end the night and so you pop a peppermint in your mouth out of the tray on the table and put on your best smile while shuffling your money, zipping it up in your bag to take home.

“Wish me luck.” You say tossing your bag back in the corner and shrugging on your ripped up black crop top, not bothering with your bra.. It was enough. They were lucky you even put your pants, tiny as they were, back on at this point. You weren’t going to put in that kind of effort this early in the morning. “Good luck!” She called after you, giddily flopping on the leather sofa you’d been taking up until then. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you straight up run into the guy after busting through the door a little too hard in your hurry to get home making him take a few staggered steps back. He’d been waiting so close to it you were shocked you didn’t hit him right in his very prominent schnoz. At least you knew who’d asked for you right away. “Well hey there, handsome!” He was, in fact, not handsome. He was- God, he was really sweaty. Why was he so sweaty? You’d barely touched him and you felt like someone hit you with a toad straight out of a parking lot puddle.

“Hh-ih-hhh-hi-” Oh God, he was a weird one. A really weird one. He stood there in all his yellow buck-toothed glory wringing his hands out of his element entirely in his dorky tweed suit with a terrible comb over and coke bottle glasses that magnified his eyes to the point of comedy. Shaking. Trembling. In absolute shambles and for no reason you could see. Existing was this creature’s enemy.

Those big doe eyes blinked up at you and he said…absolutely nothing. He only got out that squeaky greeting. He’d been hard to hear over the music, but you weren’t worried about Mr. Mumbles. You’d have him back in the VIP soon enough and be able to hear him just fine. You put that winning smile on and his shivering intensified. You didn’t think his eyes could get bigger, but he responded to a simple smile like you’d taken your top off in front of him for the second time tonight, but maybe he’d missed that.

He was just your type. Those sweet old nerds that never peaked fell head over heels for you and the 80’s goth aesthetic you so carefully cultivated. You triggered that nostalgia for that youth they missed out on, the prime they could have had. The hot girl in their comp-sci class they could never work up the courage to even wave at in the hall and for a couple of thin easily earned, for them at least, dollars you could be theirs for just a few minutes in the club. To look at and, for the right price, you’d touch them and they could pretend they hadn’t been such losers. If they tried outside of that your boss would remind them what being shoved in a locker felt like though.

“What can the Banshee do for you?” “Ha-hmm-” You glanced at the clock then back at him. There was no such thing as overtime here, little man. You couldn’t say that, but you certainly thought it at least twice before he finally said “I- ah, I was hoping wh-” He had some kind of a nervous tic. It looked like he flinched. Maybe he had, you weren’t a doctor. You couldn’t tell, but it made your hairless brow arch all the same. Around four foot ten, mousey brown hair. Greasy. Just everywhere, greasy all over. His eyes were watery, but it was too dark to see what color they were. He smelled like alcohol, but not the kind from the bar. Isopropyl alcohol.

The job came with its hazards and it looked like this geek might be one of them. You memorized his features the best you could just in case just like your boss taught you. There was plenty going on that would identify him if worse came to worse and plenty of cameras. “I was hh-hoping for a, um, private show?” He sounded funny and it wasn’t just the tic that had him stuttering. He had an accent. English? Now that he was actually managing some words you could hear it. That was weird on its own. This wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. He must work in the city? “Yeah?” You say hoping you sound more interested in it than you actually were.

It seemed to work, perking him up maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I brought money! A lot of money!” He reached into his coat and pulled out the biggest wad of cash you’d ever seen at once with both hands, it had to be at least ten thousand dollars. You grabbed his hands and held them down between the two of you so no one else could see. “Woah! Easy there, killer!” Was he insane?! This was downtown Gotham! Crime Alley was up the street. He’d have jumped for a couple of fives down here if anyone thought he had them in his wallet.

All he did in response was gasp that you had touched him then stare down at where your hands had met his actively vibrating ones. “Let’s take this to the back, alright? You gotta be more careful.” He didn’t move until you moved him. Taking that huge brick of cash in one hand and his wrist in the other, you marched him to the first empty lounge like he was a downright naughty boy being taken to his room.

Once the door was locked you turned to him “You could have been killed for this if anyone saw you with it.” You chastised bringing his hand up to press the cash in it. Making sure his fingers wrapped around it before you let go. He didn’t answer, still staring at your hand on his wrist so you let that go too. Your hands were sopping wet from the sheer amount of sweat pouring off him. 

To his credit, he seemed to function better in the back after what looked like the human version of a computer restarting without warning you first so you lost the progress on that word document you’d been working on for over an hour. Lingering electronic ptsd from high school essays aside, maybe it had been the lights and loud music that had put him over the edge on top of whatever else he was dealing with naturally? You didn’t know, but after that quiet reboot he looked a little more human and less like a rat that had touched the third rail.

At least he was speaking up now. “I didn’t…think about it, I apologize.” He said in an awfully shrill voice making you question why he was apologizing to you? His voice was unsettling and gave you that shiver up your spine the same way something grainy like unpolished glass grinding together did. It had a certain cartoonish quality to it in both pitch and tone. If you’d heard it over the phone you would have sworn he was using some kind of modulator to hide what he really sounded like. Did he genuinely sound that way? If he didn't, why was he putting on a voice like that? 

“I, ah- Well,” He held the money up again “I didn’t know how much to bring, you see, so I-well, I brought what seemed most reasonable for your, um, services?” He poised it as a question more than an answer. Like he was asking if it was reasonable rather than explaining that it was. You squinted at him. That was a reasonable amount of money to him? How disconnected from reality was he? 

“VIP packages start at three fifty.” You informed after crossing your arms, partially trying to find a comfortable way to stand with your back so sore and partially trying to put some defense up against the tiny man now that you were discussing business. He gasped like this was breaking news he couldn’t have googled before coming at all. Your boss had just set up a whole website for it specifically so people would stop trying to haggle with the girls. 

“Well,” The man counted out a few of the hundreds then fidgeted and looked back up at you “What’s the biggest package?” He was nearly cute in a kicked puppy way, but you didn’t let your defense down. You couldn’t afford to even with all that money on the table. “Do you have friends waiting outside or something?” “No! Why, no! No, mam, just me!” You felt your hand touch your cheek as you stared at the weirdo in absolute awed confusion. What on earth was this guy’s deal? 

You were too nice. Always have been. You should have just taken the money. He wanted to spend it and here you were talking him down like an idiot. Take the whole wad and don’t look back, come on! “But-but, miss, I want the most time!” He yelped a little too loudly, it made his voice crack. 

God, he was desperate. Your manicured finger tapped against your cheek as you pondered how this man hadn’t been scammed of every scant cent by now, especially in this city. “We can work that out, but what do you want?” Please, don’t say sex. You weren’t even sure if security was even still in the building and you’d had enough bad experiences with that. “I, um, need to give a presentation?”

What?

The look you must have given him prompted him to explain himself “I just need to give a presentation! At work! A presentation for my work at, uh, work and, well, I-” He melted into nervous giggles before he finished, but managed to suppress them enough to finish after a moment of looking like he was about to run away. “I need to practice. An audience so to speak and-” He looked miserable suddenly. “I don’t…” His voice lowered to a whisper “have any friends.” 

Your heart felt a little pang for him. Ok, more than a little. Same, man. Well, sort of. You had work friends. That wasn’t the same thing as a friend friend, but it wasn’t hard to believe this guy had no one at all. “Truly, I do need this!” He added quickly “It’s very important! My research depends on this! I promise I don’t mean to insult you or waste your time! I could lose funding and-and-” “I’m happy to work something out with you, but let's get you a drink first, alright?” “Alright.” He parroted back happy for the break from explaining himself. Taking quick half breaths on the verge of hyperventilating it looked like.

With peace and love, he didn’t look like a man who could hold his liquor. Nor did he seem like the type that would handle it well if he managed to do so. He needed to relax and there wasn’t anyone better for the job. You were the complete package and proud of it. You knew how to wind them up and just as importantly wind them down. You knew how to make more than a quick few cocktails, it was a part of the job.Thumbing through the Rolodex of recipes in your head you stopped on the first one that wouldn’t kill him on impact. 

A Friar Tuck. Chocolate milk for big boys. You glanced back at him on your way to the fully stocked minibar. Big enough boys. Hazelnut liqueur, dark crème de cacao, and Frangelico with, in this case, some nice cold half n’ half shaken with ice then strained in a glass. “Sip.” You say handing the glass to… hang on a second. 

“Now,” You sat him down in a chair with some gentle ushering “Let’s try this again. Hello, handsome.” He giggled nervously at you and smiled a sort of odd suppressed smile over being called handsome. You realized he was trying to hide his teeth now that he was thinking about it. There was no hiding those buck teeth. “What’s your name?”

“Jervis. Jervis Tetch.”

Banner art: DRCL - Midnight Children by Sakamoto Shinichi

[light-purp-insect]

Palladium (Arkham Jervis Tetch x reader)

Notes/warnings: sfw, noncon drugging, noncon nonsexual nudity, reader is called a girl (Jervis is canonically disconnected from sexuality and gender), reader is called Alice, bathing, light blood mention, whump?

Palladium; a silvery white and malleable element used in machinery and computers. Out of the Platinum Group, it has the lowest melting point and is the least dense.

“Such a silly girl, Alice.” The all too familiar and thin voice sang. High off the remaining Succinylcholine you lay limply in the already dirty bath water. Jervis has removed his gloves and coat to take a rag and wash away the dirt and bloody scratches over your body. “All those thorns must've been terrible, why did you want to play in the garden again?”

Of course you hadn't been playing in the garden, instead trying to escape once again. To no avail, nonetheless and to your dismay. His henchmen had grabbed you before you could truly get through the bushes. You couldn't give him a proper answer, just a loopy mumble of nonsense.

Jervis moved his hands to your legs. The soapy rag burned in some deeper cuts, of which made the Hatter tut at every displeased groan from your throat. “Just behave. We're not done yet, dear Alice.” The rag circled over your calves slowly and methodically. Rose scented soapy water didn't feel as comfortable as it would be if he was here.

Next was your hair, his favorite part of you. A thick glob of shampoo is lathered in his hands before he runs them through your hair and to your scalp. It seems he was going at such a snail's pace just to feel it more. You wanted to pull away, to yell at him or slap him, but instead let out a sluggish huff of protest.

“Hush, dear. Relax for me, just go back to that sleepy little space in your head. I do have to apologize, I didn't mean to give you so much.” He pouted. Rinsing his hands in the water momentarily, he continues, “Nitrous Oxide is so hard to get these days, I hope you can forgive me when you come to your senses.” He carefully tilts your chin and begins to rinse your hair.

Finally it was time for the conditioner, then this session would be over. Unlike the shampoo, he only used a small dollop. He had begun to hum to himself. “After this, it's snuggle time. Maybe I should up that dosage, though…”

[sharksnshakes]

Foggy Mirrors - Jervis Tetch

You can never have too much of a good thing.

AN; more jervis tetch fluff becuase i said so

Wordcount; 507

TW; bathing (reader washes jervis's hair), tooth-rotting fluff, levels of intimacy the likes of which jervis has never experienced

You run your fingers through his damp hair, taking care not to scratch or scrape at his scalp. Below you, Jervis shivers; each pass of your hands has him melting into your touch, though it’s clear he’s trying to stay at least a little on guard. He teeters on the edge of comfort and caution, oscillating between the two as you wet his hair. 

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you lean forward slightly, let your hands fall to his shoulders. 

“Jervis?” 

You’re facing him now, watching his side profile. His eyes are closed. Slammed shut, really, tiny wrinkles feathering out from the corners, like he can’t bear to take a look at the world around him. 

“Hey,” you murmur, voice soft. “Is this… okay? I can stop. Just say the word.” 

It takes a moment, but he shakes his head softly. Steam rises around you in the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror, casting a chalky sheen on the small window that runs along the seam of the ceiling. 

“No, my dear,” he says, voice rough. “It’s quite alright.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” His voice is quiet, yes, but not the same quiet as late at night or early in the morning once you’ve both woken up. It’s small. Unsure. 

“Try to relax. I’ll make this quick,” you reply, tracing a small circle into the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. 

Jervis shudders. Water laps at the sides of the tub, spraying warm droplets onto your jeans. 

“No- uh, t-take your time,” he stammers, eyes shut. “Please.” 

“You let me know,” you murmur, tucking a stray piece of damp hair behind his ear. With that, you lean back, reaching for the shampoo bottle and depositing a generous amount in your palms. 

After working it into a sudsy lather, you gently place your hands back on Jervis’ head. He shivers again, this time softly, and you slowly begin to spread the shampoo throughout his hair. 

After a few moments, you notice that his shudders are closer to purrs--a glance at his face tells you his eyes, while shut, are no longer full of tension. His lashes flutter softly, the backs of your nails scraping gently at the base of his neck. When he groans softly, his eyes snap open, a red flush blooming on his cheeks. 

You pretend not to notice. It’s more for his sake than yours, and you wordlessly continue your ministrations.

When you start in on the conditioner, gently spreading it along the ends of his hair, you feel him lean into your hand. There’s a comforting weight to him, a familiar scent of spices and firework smoke, but also a trace of perfumed hair product.

The process doesn’t take long. Once you’re sure the product is rinsed from Jervis’ hair, you give his shoulders a final, comforting squeeze, then move to leave. 

His hand finds your wrist and you turn, blinking at him owlishly. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice soft. 

“I… of course.” You glance at the door, clear your throat. "Anytime."

[batman-dc-imagines]

Incorrect quotes with the J Squad + (Name)

(Name): Yo is Jerome sleeping or dead?

Jon: Hopefully dead, I hated his guts.

Jervis: Yeah, so did I.

Jerome: Okay first of all, fuck you-

——————————————————————

(Name): *Screams*

Jerome: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Jon: Should we do something?

Jervis: No, I want to see who wins

——————————————————————

(Name): Everyone, synchronize your watches.

Jerome: I don’t know how to do that.

Jon: I don’t wear a watch.

Jervis: Time is a construct.

——————————————————————

(Name): Can I be frank with you guys?

Jerome: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Jon: Can I still be Jon?

Jervis: Shh, let Frank speak.

(Name): I hate y’all.

Jervis: You don’t mean that, Frank.

——————————————————————

(Name), about Jerome: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Jon: Are we stealing them?

Jervis: New or used?

(Name): Wonderful responses, both of you.

——————————————————————

(Name): How did none of you hear what I just said?

Jervis: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Jerome: I got distracted about halfway through.

Jon: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

——————————————————————

(Name): Dammit, Jerome!

Jerome: What?! It wasn’t me!

(Name): Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Jon!

Jon: Not me either.

(Name): Oh...Then who set the house on fire?

Jervis: *whistles*

(Name): JERVIS-

——————————————————————

*(Name) is cooking*

Jerome: Any chance that’s for me?

(Name): It’s for Jervis. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side.

Jon: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

——————————————————————

Jervis: I think (Name) was right.

Jon: I'm surprised they haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Jerome: They wouldn't do that.

(Name): You're right, Jerome. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

(Name): *turns around, the shirt they're wearing saying 'I told you so' on the back*

——————————————————————

Jerome, banging on the door: Baghead! Open up!

Jon: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Jervis: No, he meant-

(Name): Let him finish.

——————————————————————

(Name): Have you seen Jerome around here?

Jon: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Jervis: It looks fine to me?

Jon: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

——————————————————————

Jon: Why are (Name) and Jerome sitting with their backs to each other?

Jervis: They had a fight.

Jon: Then why are they holding hands?

Jervis: They get sad when they fight.

[moxtoons]

I miss hatter crow. Spare a crumb of hatter crow please

I've been wanting to draw these boys for a while 💛

Feels good to go back to some BTAS work.

Reblogs are appreciated please don't Repost

[gothamitelove]

Victor Zsasz, Jervis Tetch, & Jerome Valeska (all Gotham) how they would react to you asking them to dance? If they say yes, what kind of dance would it be? Please and thank you:]

sure!! make those boys have fun bestie i support you (and sorry this took so long omg)

victor zsasz: is 100% down to dance. he knows some sick moves he can bust out. really likes dancing in public because he gets to show you off

jervis tetch: likes dancing, but doesn't do it much in public. he'll do it if you're asking, though. he likes more classical dance- think the waltz, stuff like that.

jerome valeska: also Very hyped to dance with you. he gives you a huge grin and says, "anything for you, doll" and then you are off to the RACES my friend. he's a little rough around the edges but he'll make sure you have fun

[vintagecandy]

4C for your Jervis :))))

She'll be here any minute, and we'll all have a tea party!

[acapelladitty]

Jervis Tetch/Reader – Poetry

Summary: Jervis attempts to teach you a new poem in his own 'special' way.

"How doth the little crocod-"

Snapping off your recital with a sharp gasp, your fingers curl around the edge of the table until the whites of your knuckles appear as you fight the urge to press your knees together and escape the torment you were being subject to.

"Alice!" A slightly muffled yet pointed tone breaks through your concentration and you glance down at the delicate tablecloth which covers both the wooden table and the wicked man hidden below.

"You have failed, silly girl! Again!"

Arousal dropping his higher-pitched tone down a few notches, Jervis sounded positively smug as his hands pressed roughly into your thighs - his hot breath ghosting across your sex as he remained between your legs.

Coughing, you begin again.

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail, and pour the wat-Hatter!"

Another cry slips past your lips as his tongue swipes a cruel line along your slit; the very tip of it brushing against your swollen and easily over-stimulated clit and forcing your knees to smack against the table as you jerk in place.

Warm pleasure, tainted by aching desire, shudders down your spine and your hands are quick to pull up the hem of your dress. Exposed and looking far too stern despite the slight gloss of his mouth - a mess of the juices he had been delightfully wringing from you for the last half hour - Jervis' lips were tilted in obvious disapproval.

"Naughty rabbit." He tutted, soft hands massaging your inner thighs with a surprising strength. "Your lessons are going poorly, Alice. A simple poem, simple as chips, and you're sounding positively mad!"

"Jervis," you whine, cunt clenching around nothing as he remains pulled back, "please?"

"How doth-" Jervis prompted, shaking his head.

Groaning out your dissatisfaction, you drop the hem once again and return your shaking hands to the table as you prepare for another wicked edging.

"How doth the little crocodile-"

[starleska]

man i love the super-boxy cut of Jervis' coat...such a cool silhouette!! really ought to peer into the choices behind his character design. gentleman that he is, wouldn't it be cosy for him to offer his coat and drape it gently around your shoulders? 🥺💖

[caesariawritesstuff]

CaesariaWrites Masterlist

A complete master list for all of my fics. ● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ●

Riddler

Behave Come to Bed Crush Dogs with Lasers Frenemy Friend Hostage Insult & Affection Jealousy Promise The Easy Ones Random Riddler Headcanons

Scarecrow

Behave Be Quiet What's Mine

Mad Hatter

Dear Alice

Two-Face

Advice

Mr. Freeze

Reunion

Gotham Rogue's Headcanons

Birthdays

[knoepfl]

Mad as Love

Characters:

Jervis Tetch (The Mad Hatter): Gotham’s unsettling and charismatic hypnotist, a man twisted by his obsession with Alice in Wonderland. In his mind, reality blends with fantasy, and his words often take on a rhythmic, almost sing-song tone as he spirals further into his delusions.

Reader: Jervis’s light in the darkness, the one person who understands his fractured mind and finds a way to navigate his unstable Wonderland. She sees his humanity beneath the madness and accepts him fully, willing to join him in his strange, twisted world.

Trigger Warnings:

- Obsession and Unhealthy Attachment

- Psychological Manipulation

- Mental Instability

- Romanticization of Toxic Behavior

- Power Imbalance

Masterlist

Words: 796

---

The dim lighting in Jervis’s hideout gave the room an otherworldly glow, shadows flickering over his odd assortment of clocks and mirrors, casting strange reflections across the room. In this chaotic Wonderland, you found him standing by a cluttered table, his wide eyes lighting up the moment you entered. He straightened, smoothing his dusty green Victorian-style coat, and adjusted the brim of his oversized top hat, which wobbled just slightly as he turned toward you.

"Ah, my dear Alice, my precious light, here you are to bring me delight," he cooed, his voice lilting into a sing-song rhyme as his gaze fixed on you with intense admiration. Jervis’s eyes seemed to gleam with a strange glow, wide and unblinking as they took in your presence. The way he looked at you was equal parts fascination and devotion, like you were his guiding star in an otherwise pitch-black sky.

"Jervis," you murmured with a soft smile, stepping closer, undeterred by the darkness surrounding him. The faint smell of lavender and something sharper, like ink, lingered on his coat as you leaned in, letting his presence surround you. "I’m here, just like you wanted."

His smile spread slowly, a crooked, almost childlike grin that softened the manic glint in his eyes. “Yes, yes—my Alice, dear, please do come near,” he hummed, reaching for your hands with a reverence that was both unsettling and endearing. His fingers, encased in threadbare gloves, closed over yours as he looked you over, his gaze lingering on every detail with almost reverent appreciation.

He led you to a chair by his tea set, the faded blue dress draped carefully over the back. The sight of it brought a glimmer of excitement to his eyes, and he tilted his head, watching you with a hopeful intensity. “Would you… wear it, love? Just for me?” His voice softened, and though he tried to keep his composure, you could hear the barely contained eagerness in his tone.

You lifted the dress, feeling the worn fabric beneath your fingers. It looked like it had been mended and patched, perhaps by his own hand, the lace slightly frayed but cared for. "For you, Jervis," you replied gently, giving him a small nod as you stepped away to change.

When you returned, his mouth dropped open slightly, eyes wide as though he were looking upon something too perfect to be real. He straightened, his voice catching as he stammered out in rhyme, "Oh, Alice, my vision, my pure delight… your glow… so bright, here in the night."

You approached him with a gentle smile, taking his hand as he guided you to sit by his side at the table. His eyes never left you, tracing every detail, like he was trying to commit this moment to memory. He poured tea into your cup, careful and precise, his hands steady despite his usual jittery excitement.

Raising his own cup, he grinned, tilting his head as he whispered, “Here in Wonderland, let’s stay a while; drink to me with that lovely smile.” His hand trembled as he took a sip, eyes locked on yours, his gaze filled with something far deeper than mere affection.

You lifted your cup, smiling softly as you indulged him. "For you, Jervis," you whispered, meeting his intense gaze as you took a sip. The tea was warm and soothing, though the faint bitterness hinted at the strange blends he favored.

He set his cup down and reached out to brush a gloved finger along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Stay with me, my Alice dear, in Wonderland where there’s no fear. Just you and me, my darling dove, together in this world of love."

The reverence in his eyes was both haunting and magnetic, and you felt yourself pulled into his strange, hypnotic world. “I’m here, Jervis. I won’t leave,” you murmured softly, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch.

With a shuddering breath, he leaned closer, his lips brushing yours with a surprising tenderness, as if he feared the moment would shatter. His gloved fingers threaded through your hair, his kiss deepening as he let himself sink into the moment. You could feel the tension in him easing as he pulled you into his embrace, like he’d found the one bit of calm within his stormy mind.

When he finally pulled back, he held you close, his breathing unsteady as he whispered, "Stay with me here, my dear delight… down the rabbit hole, into the night."

For that brief moment, with him holding you like his anchor to reality, you felt that this twisted Wonderland might be a place you could stay, if only to bring him the peace he so desperately craved.

---

[iepurasdepraf]

Lights Out Pt. 2 - Enjoy

"The elaborate branching structure of the dendritic tree allows a neuron to receive inputs from the other neurons through synaptic connections. The cortical pyramidal neuron of figure one point one A and the cortical interneuron of figure one point one C each receive thousands of synaptic inputs, and for the cerebellar Purkinje cell of figure one point one B the number is over one hundred thousand. Figure one point one does not show the full extent of the axons of these neurons-" 

You had to blink. Hard. Had he breathed in the last thirty minutes? You weren't sure. You weren't sure if you had either. 

Initially, you'd managed to understand what he was talking about, but over time that had slowly waned and been overtaken by a sea of information that just kept rising. It started bleeding together in your head and your eyes were burning from squinting at his cracked phone screen where he was showing the arithmetic and diagrams. You’d gotten at best a D or C in math. You couldn’t remember anymore, but you’d passed. That said, you certainly weren’t built for this. 

“The electrical signal of relevance to the nervous system is the difference in electrical potential between the interior of a neuron and the surrounding extracellular medium-”

Not wanting to be rude since he was paying for your time, you raised your hand and were quickly called upon by your impromptu professor with nothing, but delighted glee on his face that you were even listening “Yes!?” "Whereabouts in this presentation are we?" "We're just about through the first half." "The first half?" Dear God in Heaven. 

His nose scrunched up a little exposing his buckteeth even more, he must have caught on that he was frying your brain in its pan. Maybe he found it funny. "How many parts are there?" You asked, trying your hardest to sound amused and not tired. "Five! Well, five and a, ah... sort of post note." You laughed a little restlessly and sat up on the sofa. Legs long having gone numb from being in one position for so long. 

He held up his flashcards, smudged as they were from his sweaty hands. "I felt like I needed at least eight parts to fully explain, but I ran out of cards." "Why not buy more cards?" His hand lowered as he thought about it "I- Well, I suppose I... didn't want to admit my poor foreplanning?" You press your fingers to your eyes for some relief. It didn’t help and that didn't make sense, but nothing had since he stopped stuttering. Sure, the words were coming out now, but that didn’t mean they made sense even with his extensive explanation. If anything it was making it worse.

Your hands fell to your lap as you asked “Who are you giving this presentation to, Jervis?” He turned red when you said his first name. You could tell it was that by the way his eyes fluttered. It was like every now and then he remembered you were a pretty lady giving him the time of day and it staggered him a little. “The-The board. Well, I- let me explain.” He sat on the edge of the small stage you’d made him stand on when he started this whole thing. “I don’t do things like this, you see. I’m a lab rat through and through. I haven’t given a-any kind of presentation since I defended my thesis for my doctorate.” 

There was something wrong with you. That was actually impressive and you nearly asked what his thesis was about, but you also wanted to go home before five. “I work for Wayne Enterprises and normally I’m kept down in the basements- they keep all the non-theoretical work in the basements for security reasons... I shouldn’t have told you that.” He laughed his anxiety spike off in a concerningly manic way again and all you could think to do was nod in response, nearly used to it at this point. That or you were so tired you were just accepting it for the sake of what was left of your mental bandwidth. “Recently, I don’t know why for certain, but they’re- Oh, how did Dr. Kates put it? Doing an internal audit of ongoing research to access security, costs, and productivity. I suspect someone was caught misusing grant money or they suspect someone is.”

“Is someone?” “Heavens no!” He dismisses the very idea with a flick of his wrist. An oddly elegant gesture for someone so tense, but that was likely the liquor in him. “They barely give us enough to keep the power on in the labs. If someone was doing that the flickering lights would have surely let us know long before accounting noticed.” Jervis rolls his eyes grumbling, “Useless things they are. Still haven’t approved of my new slides.” He was getting distracted so you lean forward to get his attention. “Why would them thinking someone’s stealing money have you doing a presentation?” 

He blinks like a toad, eyes unable to settle on just one part of you until he registers you are looking at him and you know that so he looks away instead, fumbling with his cards to try to get his train of thoughts back on the rails. He didn’t succeed right away. “I…They-well, they- um…Hm.” Jervis clears his throat “T-t-to prove I am making progress.” Your head tilts slightly to the side “Would they be able to tell?” “What?” Your simple question seems to knock him out of his self conscious stupor. “Well, you’ve written a really detailed presentation, but are the people you’re going to be presenting it to, will they understand what you’re saying and showing them? Are they scientists too? It sounds more like it’s going to be to a committee.” 

“They… are not scientists.” You saw the cold realization washed over him. They’d have no idea what he was talking about and the way he looked at you nearly made you feel guilty. All that work and they’d never understand it. Christ, that was brutal. It nearly made you feel bad for not getting it either. He was clearly onto something he desperately wanted to share, but it was like he couldn't simplify his ideas enough to explain what they were to anyone with a room temperature IQ.

You bounced your leg trying to think up a solution even though you still weren’t entirely sure why you gave a shit. You should just get up and go home. Tell him it’s late and you have to get some sleep. But no, you sat there puzzling trying to help this total stranger. You stood up, unable to sit anymore. The digging drive to pace while you thought winning out as it usually did so back and forth in front of the despondent scientist you went. “Ok, we can figure this out.” You assured, sounding more confident then you actually were. “You’re smart. I’m…well, I’m smart too. Just… not as smart.” You laughed, but he looked like a kicked puppy. Maybe you were the only smart one right now. 

You told yourself that was fine while you gnawed on your thumb nail. Chipping the black fingernail polish off with your front teeth. You were so tired. Your eyes hurt, your back hurt, your legs hurt, and you smelled like a sweaty ashtray full of cheap beer. You weren’t getting anywhere with this tonight. “When are you giving your presentation?” “Next week. Tuesday of next week.” It was only Monday, well, Tuesday now. You had time. 

“I’ll tell you what,” You turned to him with a clap of your hands that made him jolt to attention. “We’ll keep working on this. We’ll figure this out, but not tonight. I have to work today, but after that I’m free until Friday. Meet me here after work and I'll give you your money’s worth.” You winked at him “I owe you for what you paid me for, don’t worry. You still have,” after checking your watch you confirmed “Two hours and forty five minutes.” 

Jervis stood up, only coming up to the very bottom of your ribs “You promise?!” What a pathetically endearing man. “Promise.” You presented your pinky finger and he gasped like you’d presented you with a diamond ring, but he puffed himself up and raised his own pinky to interlock with yours. “Pinky promise, Dr. Tetch.” “I-I- Hehehe-” He wriggled like a worm on a hook. Turning red as the perfect shade of lipstick making the pale dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks stand out. “I’ve never- ah… No one’s ever pinky promised me anything. Jolly good.” 

You couldn’t help, but snort. With a shake of your hands the pact was made.