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#thank u for looking at my scribbles I appreciate you!!!

verysium · 4 months

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how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

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luvstarss · 11 days

Text

Family Dinner

ReaderxJJ

Warnings:None!Fluff :)

This one is a long one so buckle up!

"I'm really not sure about this" JJ says turning to me with a worried look on his face "Jay there gonna love you" I reassure him as I quickly take my eyes off the road and look over to see him biting his lips which is something he did when he was nervous. "I promise," I say as I use one hand to hold his."I don't know," he says nervously

"If u need to leave we can but we have to go in at least okay?" I say with a reassuring smile "Mhm" he mumbles in response.My parents were having a family dinner, so they invited JJ as they wanted to meet him, and he was nervous. really nervous.We pull up at my house in the Twinkie that John B had lent us for the night. "home sweet home" I say as we both jump out of the van and walk up to the front porch

"JJ relax it’s gonna be fine I promise baby"I say softly as I give him a soft kiss. he nods as I open the front door "Mom I'm here!" I shout as my little sister comes running up to me "Lia!" I shout as I pick her up and hug her tightly "Hi!" she squeals wrapping her arms around my shoulders and burying her face in my neck.

"Lia I want you to meet JJ"I say with a smile as she lifts her face up and looks at the boy next to me "Oooo" she says and starts making kissy noises. Me and JJ both let out a laugh as I put her down and she goes running off. "Dad!" I shout him into the living room as we go and sit down on my couch. I slowly grab JJ's hand as my dad walks into the living room. I feel him tense up "You must be JJ!" my dad says with a smile as JJ stands up and shakes my dad's hand "You hungry?" my dad asks as he sits on the couch opposite us.

"Yeah starving" jj says with an awkward laugh as he sits back down next to me. "Well good to meet u JJ I'm gonna go help in the kitchen," he says with a smile as he goes back into the kitchen "See it's fine," I say reassuringly as I rub circles on jj back "Yeah your dad seems nice" JJ replies with a smile. Before I can reply Lia comes running in with her crayons and paper "What you drawing Lee?" I ask "Me and JJ," She says bluntly "Oh you are now are you?" I say as I look at JJ with a smile and then back at her.

"Yep," she says as she starts scribbling on the paper with different colours. "I think she might like you," I say to JJ with a laugh "Just a bit," he says returning a toothy smile " I really appreciate you coming," I say softly "Of course," he says in the same soft tone as I give him a small kiss on the lips "Ew!" my sister shouts as she stands up with the paper in her hand and hands it to JJ

"Why thank you," he says as he looks on the paper to see a scribble of her and JJ with hearts around the page. Lia lets out a giggle and runs into the other room "Wow cam I think you have some competition" JJ jokes "Yeah yeah" I laugh My mom walks into the living room "Sorry about not coming in sooner!”Hi I’m her mom Melanie" she says as JJ stands up to greet her but my mom just pulls him into a hug. After a few seconds, they both pull away with a smile.

"Thank you for the invite by the way it means the world"JJ says as my mom sits down in the same spot my dad sat previously and JJ sat back down next to me. "It's my pleasure I've never seen Canm so happy," she says with a serious look "Mom stop ur embarrassing me" I reply as my face goes red.

"Well I think Lia likes me even more than your daughter does," jj says to my mom with a laugh as he passes her the drawing. My mom looks down at It and laughs "God she isn't half a hand full" my mom says shaking her head. "Dinners almost ready if u guys don't mind would u guys set the table?" my mom asks her eyes flickering between me and JJ "Yeah of course" he replies. I let out a groan as he pulls me off the couch and into the kitchen. We both start making the table as my sister sprints into the kitchen

"JJ JJ!" she shouts whilst pulling on JJ's arm "What's up Lee?" he asks softly as he neals down to talk to her. my heart immediately melts. "Can u come and help me draw please please pleaseeee" she begs whilst still pulling on his arm "Go on its fine ill finish setting the table"I say with a smile as he gets dragged back into the living room by Lia "Sooo" my mom begins "Sooo" I repeat with a grin "he's a cute one" my mom says returning the grin "yeahhhhh" I reply.

I finish setting the table and look into the living room. I see j sitting cross-legged on the floor helping my sister draw a picture.

At that moment I knew.

My mom comes up behind me and rests her chin on my shoulder "You love him don't you" she says "I think I do" I say softly "Hes a good one keep him close" my mom replies with a smile " Thats if Lia doesn't steal him from you" she adds with a giggle "mhm" I laugh "Alright well go get him and your sister dinners ready" she says giving me a kiss on the cheek as she goes back to putting food on the table. "I see you guys are having fun," I say walking over to them.

"Can close ur eyes!" my sister says "Quick cover them!" she adds as ij puts his hands over my eyes. "Hello to you guys too," I say confused. "Wait here!" my sister shouts as I hear her run off and come back. She gives JJ the okay to let me open my eyes "Well I don't know what u guys are plotting but dinners ready" I say as I help jj up and we walk into the kitchen "Smells amazing Melanie!" JJ says as we all sit down at the table

"Thankyou JJ but please call me mel" She laughs We all begin eating "So how did u and JJ meet?" my dad asks as he puts another mouthful of food in his mouth.

"Well you know how I work at the surf shop? well, jj is really good at surfing so he would buy supplies at the shop then you know we started hanging out" I say with an obvious smile painted on my face as I turn to him as I see the same grin on his face.

"Aww JJ do u work?" my mom asks "Not fully at the moment but I help Cam at the surf shop a lot and I fix cars here and there" he replies as he has a mouthful of his food. JJ places his hand on my thigh as my sister begins "JJ can we show Cam our drawing after dinner?" she says across the table "Yeah of course" he replies with a smile "You guys made me a drawing?" I ask

"Yep we did," jj says with a nod as he turns me witha grin "Your sister is quite the little artist" he adds "Mhm" Lia agrees with a proud nod. We finish off our food and we all go and sit in the living room. Obviously, JJ sits next to me and My mom and dad sit on the couch opposite us whilst my sister runs off and comes back with a piece of paper.

She looks at JJ for a second "Go on give it to her Lee" and with that Lia comes up to us and hands me the paper “why Thankyou”I say as I look down at it to see a picture of her me and jj all holding hands "awww I love it lee" I say in awe as I pick her up and hug her tightly.

After a moment she pulls away and just sits on my lap facing me "I wanna see the drawing!" my mom says as JJ hands her and my dad the paper. They both let out a laugh and give the paper back to JJ "Me and Lee make quite the team don't we" JJ smiles as he gives Lia a high five.

"Im starting to think you like Lia more than me," I say jokingly with a smile as I put her down "Well I meannnn" JJ jokes as I slap him on the shoulder lightly "You're a good man JJ your old man raised you right," my dad says. my heart drops. jj stiffens in his seat. I grab his hand and rub my thumb against it.JJ just smiles awkwardly and shuffles in his seat.

"Well me and JJ better get going we're meeting our friends later," I say with a smile at my parents as we both stand up. "Of course, it's been lovely meeting you JJ," My mom says hugging him once again "Good meeting you too," he says with a smile "You're a good lad JJ," my dad says shaking his hand "Bye JJ!" Lia shouts running up to him as he bends down and hugs her “Bye Lee!”JJ says to the little girl as he stands back up.

"Youll have to babysit her one day with JJ" my mother says to me with a grin "I think she might like that" I say with a laugh "Alright love you guys ill see you guys later," I say as I open the door and go to leave "Love u guys thank you for dinner!" JJ shouts with a smirk. We both laugh as I jump in the passenger seat and jj drives "Well they really like you," I say with a giggle. “

Im glad I was so nervous" he responds with an awkward laugh "I knew they'd love you," I say with a smile "Your sister certainly does," he says turning to me with a smile on his face. "You know I'd love to babysit ur sister sometime you know? like your mom said" JJ says climbing into bed as I join him putting my head on his bare chest as he plays with my hair "Id like that.My heart literally melted when I saw you helping her draw" I say looking up at him

"Really?" he says showing that mesmerising toothy smile "I love ur smile you know" I say out of the blue as I look at him in awe "you do?" he questions his face scrunching up"I really do" I say with a serious look on my face "well I happen to like your smile as well" he says pulling me up and kissing me.

I let out a giggle as I prop my chin on his chest and continue to look up at him "You know me and my mom were talking about you "I say "You were? Oh no what did I do wrong?" he says a worried look painted on his face "No, it's good I promise. I was watching you and Lia play and i realised" i pause for a minute

"i love you JJ" i say my breath heavy it's not like we weren't serious of anything but this is the first time i'd ever said i love you. "I love you too baby" JJ replies as he kisses my forehead.

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Can we get human wally? And puppet reader

[Sure!]

[I'm going through asks as fast as I can! I know I missed the party!]

《Human Au》

Wally hums along to the music playing from the old stereo his gramps' had pulled out from storage. Idly gazing at the strangers and a few of the neighbors going through the boxes.

"Wally my boy! Do you mind getting out a couple of other boxes! I left them in attic!" His grandpa calls out, helping one of the customers move a item to their truck.

Wally throws him a thumbs up, heading inside the creaky red home as he heads up the stairs.

Carefully avoiding a few loose boards, Wally's pampador loses itself as he trips over some hidden fabric. The young man scowls at the sight of his lose hair dangling down his face. "I should've used the ultra-hairspray today.." He mumbled sourly, pushing his strands away as he sat up.

Glaring at the rotten fabric that tripped him, but paused when giving it a closer inspection.

Moving the old thing away, a giant box was placed there. Definitely tucked away from the prying eyes of anyone coming up to the attic, no longer though. Now that Wally discovered it.

Pulling the tape and flapes away, Wally couldn't belive what he saw!

A puppet!?

Hesitantly pulling it out to take a closer look, his heart became mush when gazing at the felt friend lost to time. Not noticing the bright red marker words saying "1979. Don't Remember." Scribbled on the sides of where you came from.

"Look at you, your color scheme, design, even your hair! Aren't you just darling~!" The young man laughed, wiping a bit of soot and dust off the puppet's clothes.

"WALLY! WALLY DARLING! YOU ALMOST DONE UP THERE!"

The blue-nette, startled by his grandmother's wail, he drops your cotton stuffed form back in the box. Quickly giving you a apologetic glance as he calls back down, saying he was fine. Swiping close to his cardigan as he glances over at the box you came from.

He'll look at later, he silently promises. Hiding your puppet-y self away in his guest room as he comes back down stairs. Completely forgetting what he needed to get from the attic.

[Dun dun! I wanted to go for a classic 70s horror movie vibe! Did I nail it? Comments, reblogs, hearts, are super, and always appreciated! Thanks u!]

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taelme · 2 years

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enchanted

genre: regency!au (with some tweaks ofc), (not so)enemies-to-lovers!au, viscount!Jaehyun (kind of slowburn, hurt/comfort elements?, angst? mutual pining, reader is an oldest daughter guys) pairing/s: Jaehyun / Reader (ft Yuta, Johnny & other ocs)

word count: 23k+ (guys. be fr its me we’re talking abt here) tw: reader and jh both have a tense rs w their parents? brief mentions of a parent’s death (not reader/jh’s), reader doesn’t exactly look after herself very well, lmk if I missed out on anything! summary: in a world where marriage is nothing more than an economic proposition, and where a person is no more than what they can offer, you and Jaehyun rediscover what it means to be with each other, in the very essence of the word

a/n: this is really funny cause... so far the fics i have for my ‘tswift for the neos’ discourse are all johnjae.... life is like that, i guess. anyway. 3rd installment! this was a LONG time coming and i rly hope u guys enjoy it! took me a while to get back into the rhythm of writing so thank u all for bearing w my radio silence HAHHA this is based off of enchanted and gold rush (and any other easter eggs you find hehe- i’d love to hear if it reminds u of other tswift songs), reblogs are VERY appreciated!! happy reading loveys~ read this on ao3

You ached for rest. Not the kind that sleep guaranteed, no. This rest you ached for felt much deeper, much further from reach. Much like a stranger you wished to know.

“Do you remember what we discussed?”

Each inhale of yours didn’t seem to satisfy the ache in your chest, feeling as though your ribs were caving in, unsure if it was anxiety or the carriage or your clothing that was making you taste your last meal, and even that seemed like it was ages ago.

“Your posture,” the whisper of your mother brought some of your awareness back to the question she’d asked.

What did you discuss?

You tried to dismiss the impending feeling of doom that grew stronger as you noticed your surroundings, the carriage all of a sudden seeming to be moving too quickly, your grip on your gloves tightening as you tried to recall what your mother was trying to remind you of.

Right.

Be obedient. The carriage rounded the corner, jolting you from the familiar bump in the road. Don’t immediately launch into literary discourses out of panic. Your mother took your gloves out of your weak grip, slipping them onto your hands with an assertiveness that shoved you further into your seat, resisting the urge to shiver at the feeling of her cold hands on your skin. Have good manners. You could now recognise the music echoing from the building, a piece you were sure you’d heard your sister play before. Mind your facial expression. Along with the sound of music, the chatter and giggles intensified. Don’t scribble funny names onto your dance card. You thought about your little sister at home, probably sitting by the window reading a book from your father’s library as she waited for you to return home. You thought about your father who was in his study doing God knows what. As if like a trigger, a wave of clarity washed over you; you’d suddenly felt unfortunately sober.

Find a marriage partner.

“There will be many eligible suitors present. After all, it’s the first ball of the season,” she spoke, more for herself than for you.

You were treating this like a game of sorts, anything to make the process feel more distant from you. You needed to go in, find someone who had status, money and could offer protection to your family, and play your part to see it through for the rest of your life. Sure, it could be seen as a game. A very long, tedious game.

“Right,” you swallowed, still feeling as though you could hurl at any given moment, though your mother would’ve never sensed your inner turmoil. You’d become somewhat of an expert at masking it. Perhaps it was all the times you heard your parents telling you to ‘use your words’; you’d become all-too-familiar with manipulating them as you pleased.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, your mother already preparing to alight as you followed behind her. Taking in a deep breath of (rather fresh smelling) air, you wondered momentarily if that was all you needed, feeling much better than you did in the carriage as you followed your mother up to the entrance of the ball.

You’d barely paid attention to your name and your mother’s being announced to the room upon your entrance, hyper aware of the attendees and trying your best to suppress your discomfort, hoping you could somehow mentally dissuade them from approaching you for a dance, though you knew you would never let yourself allow that. You had more pressing issues at hand.

Your relief from the fresh air was short lived. A stocky middle aged man who, according to your mother, owned an extravagant amount of land and had just gotten out of his second marriage, actively looking for a third.

Masking your discomfort, once again, you’d complied when the man had asked for a dance (though it wasn’t like you had a choice, your dance card bare as ever). Though you didn’t remember what you talked about as you danced, you were too focused on counting your steps to distract from his lack of teeth and the damp warmth that sank into your clothes where his hand was placed.

“Do you do much sewing?”

“A fair amount,” you grunted, feeling out of breath from supporting his weight with how much he was leaning into you while dancing. Sewing surely didn’t give you enough strength for this.

“That is good. It would help to dedicate yourself to such productive activities. You could contribute much more to the household with that, compared to all the folly of reading or academic learning. Unnecessary, in my opinion, when I am more than sufficiently equipped in that area.”

You couldn’t help your blank stare, hoping your tired sigh wasn’t obvious as you nodded with a hum.

“Is that so?”

The man let out a grunt, seeming to think you were speaking sarcastically, “A woman like you should use your beauty to your advantage. It is your crowning glory.”

You forced out a smile, telling yourself to take his words as flattery even though you were desperate for this dance to end.

The truth of the matter was this: you were made to do all sorts of things at the start of your day, things that were considered ‘productive’ and would aid in attracting a husband. Needlework, dancing, singing, drawing… but when the afternoon came around you were free to do your other ‘less productive’ activities.

You chose reading, naps and the occasional letter writing. These pastimes were the only form of rest you were accustomed to, though you would always end up somewhat unsatisfied, feeling as though these forms of resting didn’t satisfy the desire for rest. Perhaps it was like a writer trying to find the right word for a situation and ending up settling for one with the most similarity—it still wasn’t the right word, but there was always a thought that perhaps you were looking for one with an entirely different meaning.

Sewing? You found it all too troublesome and required all the patience that you didn’t have, leaving it for those few hours in the morning that were dedicated to building up your ‘accomplishments’. But were you proficient at it? To answer simply, you were proficient to the extent that you felt it was necessary to attract a marriage partner.

Your promise to your mother not to write random names on your dance card was growing less and less serious with each forced smile you let out to acknowledge the man’s strong beliefs.

It was by your (you weren’t sure, actually, it seemed as though you’d danced more this night than in your entire lifetime) dance that you were starting to feel lightheaded, stepping aside to find your mother for a drink. It was as your dance partner led you back to your mother that your eyes couldn’t seem to help themselves, constantly glancing at the dance card hanging from your wrist, the empty spaces and the little pencil dangling from it simply calling out to you to put them to good use.

You only had about four spaces left on your card— thank goodness for that, you didn’t think you’d be able to last any longer. Your fingers fiddled with the little pencil as you walked, careful to keep your fidgeting out of sight, overhearing giggles and murmurs about a certain viscount that was rumoured to be attending tonight’s ball.

Viscount Jung? You almost scoffed at the way they seemed as if they were talking about the Queen. Whoever he was, it was absolutely tempting you, the offer of his name that was as easily tossed around as it could be written down on your silly card.

“He’s gorgeous , you’ll have to take my word for it. Beautiful features and physique. I saw him once when he came to my estate for a meeting with my husband. He’s an architect, and a very skilled one at that.”

You purse your lips, already concocting various images in your head of what he looked like. Tall? Amicable? Perhaps he had a nice smile, you always found that to be rather charming. Perhaps his movements were slow yet precise, his moves carrying the same kind of regal elegance of the buildings he designed.

“Well, I would think he has potential marriage partners lining up for him if that’s the case, hmm?” you heard, almost nodding in agreement.

As you scanned the room, you pursed your lips at the mental image you got of how any of these girls would behave if the tall, handsome architect you pictured in your brain were to show any attempt of courting them. Maybe not even to the extent of courting… perhaps just a passing glance, a brush of his hand against yours, to feel his imposing presence just like a Midas touch as he walked past.

You let yourself wonder, just for a moment, if he would ask to be introduced to you, if you would find his personality charming while you danced, if he would take a liking to you and engage in more than just superficial conversation on your accomplishments, how you would feel to be at the receiving end of attention that was not unwanted for once.

Though it was short lived, your mind had taken the liberty of playing the rest of the sequence of events—your mother’s meddling, heightened tension between you and her because of said meddling—you cut the daydream-turned-nightmare off before you made yourself bitter for no good reason.

You were already getting too invested in this conversation, the image and elaborate backstory you’d created for him in your head. But it wasn’t exactly your fault, there was hardly any real entertainment to be found here. You held your dance card open as much as you could without going noticed, beginning to write the usual names you fell-back on when you grew tired of dancing.

“It’s near impossible to catch his attention, though,” you tuned-in to the conversation between the two mothers from before, “he wouldn’t even spare a glance at anything other than his sketches when he was visiting my home. I’d assume one would have to be nothing short of perfect to even get noticed by someone of his calibre. I can’t imagine he would settle for anything less.”

“Do you think he's coming tonight?”

“I heard he responded with his attendance, but Lord, have mercy on our daughters… I doubt he’d even cast a passing sigh their way,” you heard one of the chaperones sigh, shaking her head.

“What’s his name again?”

You tapped your pencil against the inside of your fingers absently, frustrated at the way your mind was blanking as you tried to recall another name you could use to fill the last empty space in your dance card.

“Viscount Jung Jaehyun.”

You hummed. Jung Jaehyun . You figured it was a safe bet, it wasn’t as if he’d actually ask you to dance.

You worked quickly in scribbling his name, along with many others you usually fell back on, onto the paper. The feeling of pencil against paper had never been as satisfying as it did now as your feet ached, clothes felt uncomfortable against your skin and throat feeling dry as sand.

Unfortunately for you, that victory didn’t seem to last very long.

“My dear, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” your mother cooed once you’d reached her, her tone making you feel as though you’d just been cued to say your next line.

You shot her a look, putting on a friendly smile as you greeted the people she was with, a few women you definitely did not recognise and a man with a very charming smile, clothes and jewellery that looked like he definitely lived… comfortably .

You were introduced to this man, addressed as Mr Nakamoto, a young-looking man who was supposedly from a reputable family from overseas, back from his travels around Europe. All of which was unimportant to your mother, of course, who simply hinted that he had money and was looking for a wife, the only things she claimed you should be caring about.

Perhaps that was true. Contrary to how it seemed, you were a lot more targeted in your search for a marriage partner. If you sifted through your mental list of men you’d danced with thus far into the night, your best potential marriage partner was either Mr Nakamoto (from what you were hearing), or the widower Baron who told you your silence was pleasing to him.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?” He smiled, already extending a hand to reach for your dance card. In your panic, you withdrew your hand just slightly, only having it snatched away again by your mother, whose eyes zeroed in on the newly-added names.

You didn’t have time to react before the woman standing next to her had peered over as well, practically exclaiming with delight, “Oh! The viscount has asked you to dance? How fortunate! You must not dawdle, then.”

Your eyes widened, about to protest with some reason you hadn’t quite thought up yet, using that split second to contemplate the repercussions and how willing you were to deal with them if you were to confess that it was a fake name. That is, until your gaze landed on the man currently being led (or pushed) towards you.

Barely being able to protest before the both of you had been abandoned on the dance floor, the man looking nothing but irritable as he glared at you. You were assuming this was the man who was the centre of all the hushed giggles and gossip of tonight.

The image you had in your head of the mysterious Viscount Jung was almost instantly shattered and made new again, as if the previous image had never existed and this was the only one that could ever exist. How, for some reason, it made sense .

“This would all make sense if you let me explain,” you blurted out, seeing him quirk an eyebrow at you. Even his eyebrows were pretty.

He let out a huff at your expression, wondering how you could still seem so unremorseful after causing him such inconvenience . The last thing Jaehyun wanted here was for people to assume he was actually interested in somebody.

“You owe me an explanation, regardless,” the man’s voice had shocked you.

Deep and smooth, capable of lulling you into a trance if you weren’t already so on edge, even if his tone was curt and dripping with annoyance, “You’ve somehow managed to get the whole room staring at us.”

He let his gaze flicker briefly over the necklace you were wearing, back to your mother who was standing at the side looking on with evident disdain. Delicate looking Amethysts decorating your neck made Jaehyun wonder where you’d gotten them from. He only recalled Rubies to be quite popular among the girls in the other towns, according to his closest friend Johnny.

As if reminded of where you were, you tried to ignore the stares as you reached a hand up to his shoulder, swallowing the gasp that almost escaped at the feeling of his hand going to your back, tensing up visibly as your brain processed the music playing.

He let out a sigh as the both of you began to dance. It would’ve been an amusing sight if you were someone else looking on, both of you clearly not wishing to dance yet being whisked along to the upbeat tempo of the music, executing the dizzying choreography with what could only be described as trained movements.

A hint of a smile graced his features, though it definitely wasn’t directed at you.

“Anytime before my death, please,” he spoke, seeming to find his little joke amusing from the little huff of laughter he struggled to contain.

You scoffed, for some reason not feeling as inclined to offer him the same grace you would your other dance partners. Rolling your shoulders back, you kept your stare steady and refused to look down, lest he think he succeeded in making you feel small.

“That’s not a lot of time,” you quipped back, “Besides, your sour attitude is what will earn you an early death, if anything,” you muttered, audible enough for him to hear.

“Yours isn’t any better, in case you haven’t realised,” he huffed, eyebrows furrowing slightly in disdain.

“You don’t know me,” you huffed.

“And neither do you,” he was quick to reply, earning a sigh from you.

“Look, I wouldn’t be dancing with you if I had a choice,” you scoffed, figuring he was at least mildly offended from the way his eyes seemed to widen just momentarily.

“Oh, but you had a choice in writing my name on your dance card, didn’t you?” He bit back with a sarcastic smile, making you suck in a breath. That was definitely caused by your annoyance, not the dimples on his cheeks that you noticed with his smile.

“Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t be dancing with someone as ill-mannered and arrogant as you either. Or dancing at all, for that matter. You’ve somehow seemed to spoil both of those outcomes,” he drawled, a wistful sigh that he masked with a soft smile.

Almost like a child, you’d wanted to mutter something about how you weren’t ill-mannered, but you figured what you’d shown him thus far wouldn’t exactly help your case in proving that.

You could hear girls swooning as you passed them.

“And you had the choice to show up to the ball, did you not? What did you think was going to happen here if not dancing? Did you think we’d have a canvas laid out for you to do some drawing?”

You struggled to maintain your gently pleased expression, finding your words to be quite amusing. Judging from the genuine huff of laughter you’d let out, to anyone else you two would’ve seemed to be really hitting it off.

“We could spend the entire night airing out our… grievances ,” he sighed, “but you still haven’t explained how we have ended up like this.”

You closed your eyes just briefly enough to roll them, opening them to see his jaw clenched as he glared at you.

The sigh he breathed out in annoyance succeeded in drawing your attention to your proximity. Only then noticing how differently you felt dancing with him than you did with your previous dance partners who felt as though they would collapse on you at any given moment. Somehow, the viscount felt steadier, making you unconsciously lean into him as you danced. Almost like your body recognised its ability to be dependent in this moment, no matter how minuscule the moment was. Like muscle memory.

Lifting your gaze up to his face, you tried not to let it linger for too long on his lips, their colour reminding you of a rose and hinted at the softness of a rose petal. Feeling the tap of his fingers against your back was what nudged your gaze to his eyes, understanding a little better why the gossip about him usually involved the word ‘beautiful’.

“I might be able to die and resurrect before you start explaining—”

“If I must explain,” you cut him off, earning a huff from him, “I usually write fake names on my dance card because eighteen dances are simply eighteen-too-many bouts of dancing with strange old men. Your name just happened to grace my ears when I was doing so.”

Jaehyun huffed, “And what did you think was going to happen here if not dancing?” He repeated your words back to you with an all-too-smug tone.

You let out a deep sigh, funnily enough, almost stumbling but feeling his hand on your back keep you standing upright.

He did have a point (as annoying as his execution was) but you weren’t going to admit it, of course. It was much more than just ‘dancing’. What happened in these balls could very well determine the future of yourself, your family and your unborn children, as you’ve been so generously reminded time and time again.

It was as if your mother was in your head, telepathically communicating these reminders to you whenever you were on the brink of letting yourself enjoy what you were doing. You had a responsibility to fulfil as the oldest daughter of your family. Him, however? To be able to waltz in here and expect to leave without dancing and know no one would bat an eye?

You huffed, fixing your gaze on the space between his eyebrows just so you could look as though you were deeply attentive.

“Must be nice not having to worry about your future,” you rolled your eyes.

That seemed to have struck a nerve with the Viscount, who frowned slightly at your words, an uncomfortable silence falling between the both of you.

“Was that the real reason you wrote my name down?” he finally spoke. His gaze seemed to truly hold offence now, feeling even more distant from him even though you were standing so close to him. The realisation that he truly was a stranger sinking in deeply, filling you with discomfort.

You didn’t seem to catch on to his implication at first, only realising after you’d recalled what you said to warrant such a reaction from him.

“I’m not after your money,” you told him plainly, seeing his frown grow deeper.

“You expect me to believe you?”

You glared at him, frowning slightly, his expression only mirroring yours.

“It seems I would be better off not expecting anything from you,” you huffed, “but you cannot expect anyone in this room not to be after you for your money. You’re surely smart enough to know that when you step into this room...”

You shook your head, each word seeming more for yourself than for the Viscount, a reminder that even now you were still meant to be playing your long, tedious game.

“... you are no longer viewed as yourself, only your eligibility, how well you’re able to act out your role. And if we were to go by that, I would be dancing with Mr Nakamoto there instead.”

The viscount followed the direction you had gestured in with your head, spotting the man standing next to your mother and chaperone.

“That’s Mr Nakamoto?” The viscount murmured, something almost akin to recognition in the man’s eyes as they met his own. The name seemed to ring a bell with him, though there was still a sense of unfamiliarity in his thoughtful expression. He didn’t think it was the kind of familiarity he would feel from a recent memory. Perhaps he would ask Johnny.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

There was no reply. A part of you was curious, wondering why his silence irked you so much.

At the viscount’s silence, you had only then realised the song was coming to an end. He let go of you as quickly as the song allowed, bowing out of courtesy and leading you to where your mother and Mr Nakamoto were, a certain discomfort in his expression that you could not seem to place, “By all means.”

And just as you said, he’d left the ball right after, no one batting an eye (but almost everyone running their mouths).

Still recovering from your exchange, you fixed your gloves, huffing at no one in particular, seeing Mr Nakamoto direct a rather amused smile towards you.

“Are you feeling alright? I hope dancing with the viscount wasn’t as dizzying as it looked.”

Your eyebrows raised, mustering a polite smile as you shook your head, determined to leave thoughts of the Viscount behind.

“Oh, no. Not at all. Yes, I’m perfectly fine.” Or you hoped to be in a while, at least.

Mr Nakamoto, you discovered over the rest of the evening, was nothing short of a perfect gentleman (going by your sister’s manuals). You struggled to find a flaw (and trust me, you were searching hard for it).

Beneath his extravagant clothes, confident demeanour, good dancing and how well-read he was about topics you could definitely see your father being eager to discuss over meals, you found that he was everything your mother was looking for. But other than the boxes he ticked off of her ‘Ideal son-in-law checklist’, there was nothing that compelled you to grow more acquainted with him. There wasn’t that… spark of attraction you would imagine was a non-negotiable aspect of the romance novels you read and plays you watched. The closest you’d gotten to feeling that tonight was in your sheer annoyance towards the viscount.

Unfortunately for you, there was much longer left for you to endure before you would be able to return home, but Mr Nakamoto’s company proved to be… sufficient.

Mr Nakamoto (whose first name you later heard from your mother was Yuta), kept you busy for the rest of the ball, occupied and mildly entertained with many stories about his travels (most of which you couldn’t differentiate between truth or lie). You would’ve even considered it a plus with how much he was talking, you were free to eat your supper in peace, undisturbed by other men due to Yuta’s riveting tales.

“I haven’t travelled much myself, but whatever you described does sound very lovely,” you would comment once in a while, feeling as though you were talking to the little children you would see at the market. You would smile, nod and coo at their stories without much care if they were reality or fiction. It was almost like an escape from reality, one you welcomed with open arms tonight.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asked suddenly, making you straighten up after a while of quietly enjoying your supper.

“Yes, a younger sister,” you murmured, “she’s not out yet, though.”

Yuta hummed over a mouthful of food, swallowing it with a wince before continuing, “Are you two close?”

You smiled, a small huff leaving you as you shrugged, “Well, yes, I suppose that is one way you could describe it.”

Yuta huffed, smiling as if recalling something (a story you assumed).

“Did I say something amusing?”

Yuta smiled, shaking his head, “No, it just reminded me of these siblings I met while I was in America…” setting off into yet another story about his travels.

Though you really didn’t mind, he was just giving you more stories to tell your sister once you got home.

You were at your wits end when it was time for the ball to be over, feeling as though you’d used up all your energy for the season from just dancing and listening to Yuta’s stories. You’d wanted nothing more than to simply curl into bed and sleep the rest of the week away.

Exchanging greetings as you parted ways, you tried hard to ignore the way your mother was looking at you as you returned to your carriage, head feeling heavy yet still feeling tension in your limbs, unable to fully relax with your mother in the carriage with you.

“He’s a very pleasant man,” she murmured, gaze trained outside the window as if she could see anything other than trees and empty road.

“Who?” you frowned.

“Who else? Mr Nakamoto.”

You let out a deep sigh, the breath you took in not satisfying the breathlessness you felt, nodding.

“He is,” your reply was curt, leaving no room for elaboration, though that didn’t seem to stop your mother.

“I heard from one of the ladies that he’s planning on staying here for a while. Planning to buy the estate near the park. You know, the one with the balcony that overlooks the lake. It’s an expensive property.”

You hummed.

You wanted to be interested, you really did. But the movement of the carriage was starting to make your head pound and you didn’t think you had any energy left in you to pretend to be bothered about whether Yuta’s potential estate overlooked anything .

Deeming your fatigue as a sort of defiance, your mother’s tongue clicked sharply as she shook her head at you.

“How can you be so… “ she scoffed, shaking her head, “need I remind you that you are doing this for the family? You need to start taking ownership of your responsibility in this whole affair.”

You sighed, shifting in your seat and directing your gaze towards her, “I know.”

Though you tried your best to remain respectful with your tone, your irritation got the better of you, “I am taking ownership. Am I not allowed to be tired after a whole night of dancing and socialising?”

“This is not just ‘ dancing and socialising ’. You need to realise the gravity of what just one dance could affect, for your family’s sake.”

Of course you knew that, but it wasn’t as if you could get her to see things from your perspective. She was your mother, and the last time she’d seen from any perspective other than that was before you were born.

You huffed, suppressing the many words you’d wished to have her hear, trying to remind yourself that words were unlikely to get you anywhere near an understanding with her. That would suffice for the night until you slept off your anger.

Nodding in hopes that it would appease her, you focused on your breathing, hoping it would somehow ease your headache that was coming on stronger than you’d wished. Unfortunately for you, you’ve come to learn that your mothers worries were only ever vented through such exchanges with you, though they weren't much of an exchange to begin with.

“Think of your father,” you couldn’t help the wave of discomfort that washed over you at the mention of him, as if you could feel his presence in the carriage at the mere mention of him, domineering and tense.

“He slaved away for his whole life to ensure his daughters could be viewed as respectable ladies in society. It is a privilege to even attend a ball like you just did. And yet you act as if we’re putting you through torture!”

Torture was one label for it; your long, tedious game.

“You are the oldest, you are to set an example for your sister. I do not wish for you to taint her innocence with your… your insolence .”

You nodded, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. With how much they fed her those manuals on what a respectable man and woman should be, how they kept her in the house as much as possible, allowed not even for her to paint because of how it would dirty her clothing, it was a wonder how they thought anything could possibly ‘ taint’ her at all.

Though at the same time, you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to live as quiet and simple a life as she did, out of the loop of all the burdens and worries that seemed to follow your family for generations, growing more complex with each cycle it made.

“I know,” you stifled your sigh lest she use that as another example of your ‘insolence’, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, a foolproof way of appeasing her you’d come to learn after a lifetime of experience. Whether you meant it was an entirely separate matter.

Your words seemed to have their intended effect, allowing you to sit in the quiet tension of the carriage ride until you felt it come to a stop, hearing the rustling of the footman moving to open the carriage door, exiting with haste that only came with the feeling of a successful escape.

Your sister was quick to meet you in your bedroom as you reached your bedroom, timed with a precision you both knew came with too much time spent at home.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” you huffed, earning a shrug from her, a book you recognised to be from your father’s library in her hands, her finger tucked between the pages she stopped at.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes that you supposed held all sorts of hope to hear stories of love and romance, “I suppose I was too excited for you.”

You sighed.

“I hope that was a good sigh,” she inched closer, dog-earing the page she was on and tossing it aside, the book thumping softly on your stool.

She shifted on your bed, making herself comfortable as you changed out of your clothes leaving just your nightgown, glancing at her through her reflection in your standing mirror.

“I hope it was too,” you huffed, allowing yourself to be amused at your own joke, even though you didn’t very well feel like making light of your horrible night.

“How was it? Did anybody catch your eye?”

Your thoughts ran first to the Viscount (and his rosy lips—this wasn’t your fault, really.) It upset you, how he of all people had left a lasting impression on you even though you’d spent hours and hours talking to Mr Nakamoto. It upset you how you just knew that even if you did tell others about his lousy manners or his condescending demeanour, no one would have wanted to believe you, everyone already believed he was what they wanted him to be; a gentleman straight out of one of your sister’s manuals.

“There were… some , I suppose,” you spoke as vaguely as you could, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her (even though you knew it wouldn’t).

“Handsome?” The lilt in her tone was awfully hopeful.

You sighed, turning to her with a knowing look, “Handsomely rich .”

Her mouth fell open, features pulling into a frown, “You know for a fact I didn’t mean money. Were they charming? Attractive?”

“I suppose one of them was… not ugly,” you felt embarrassed saying it, for some reason, as if you could anticipate the viscount’s reaction if he’d heard your words. The way the corner of his lips would curl up in a smirk, tilting his chin up at you with all the arrogance and cockiness in his being.

For some reason, you were afraid to voice out your thoughts on him. Perhaps it was the fault of the little nagging voice that persisted in your head, telling you that it truly didn’t matter if you thought he was physically attractive, because you didn’t stand a chance to begin with. Voicing it out almost seemed like a jinx, a nail in the coffin that forced you to face this reality instead of living in the hope that he could have harboured good feelings towards you too; simply for the pleasure that came with being perceived by someone like him.

You figured now wasn’t the time for you to start getting comfortable with hoping.

Turning to your sister with a shrug, you spoke, “But he had the worst demeanour.”

“I heard a Viscount asked you to dance. It couldn’t have been him, could it?”

Perhaps it was those very manuals that led her to this assumption.

Though it was for her own good, you found yourself not wanting to burst her bubble. She needed to know that it wasn’t about whether they were a Viscount or not, but that the men she would encounter in the marriage market in general weren’t as fairytale-like as they were written out to be. The likelihood of marrying someone you found even mildly attractive was rare. Yet the hope she held was important, precious almost.

Although the growing desire to find a love match was gaining popularity these days, you didn’t consider yourself to have that luxury. It seemed all too indulgent, saved for people who could afford to worry about things like love. Not a lady like you, the eldest daughter of her family carrying her parents’ burden on her weary shoulders.

“Do you think all viscounts are handsome and kind?” you laughed, beginning to undo your hair.

“Don’t know. Never met one before,” she sighed, “which is precisely why I’m asking you. ”

You hummed, “Well, the other man I spent most of the night with wasn’t exactly better. He spent most of the time talking about himself, but I suppose it was good entertainment.”

“So he wasn’t the handsome one?”

“The viscount?” you frowned.

Your sister’s eyes lit up, her smile growing, “So, you think the viscount’s handsome?”

Realising your mistake, you narrowed your eyes at her, “I think it’s best you forget about him.”

Somehow, the words left a bitter taste on your tongue, your sister’s expression of confusion making you feel almost frustrated, “I’m only saying this because I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him after tonight.”

You made your way over to your bed, getting into bed and shifting to find a comfortable position, your sister still sitting next to you and looking at you with that same thoughtful expression.

“Are you that upset about it?” you huffed, trying to read into her emotions, “It’s nothing to worry about, really. Mother seems to have found a man that’s to her liking, you know, finances, property, intelligence and manners all included.”

She shook her head, mustering a small smile, “No, It’s not that. I was just wondering… how difficult it’s probably going to be for me to find a husband.”

You frowned.

“You have loads of accomplishments. You’re going to be fine,” you assured her, choosing gentle words that paved a way for a peaceful conclusion as always, though your words seemed to have weighed heavier on her, a small sigh leaving her as she toyed with your bedsheet under her hand. You would be lying if you said it didn’t spark some sort of competitive urge to prove that you could find better words to dissipate her worry.

She sighed, briefly glancing at you before looking away, mumbling in a way that was almost reluctant to be heard, “Love is important too, you know.”

You fell silent at her words, the ache in you growing obvious again. That ache for the kind of rest that went beyond physical things. One that seemed natural for you to forego, for everyone’s sake but yours.

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. You sifted through your archive of neutral, concluding words, words that you didn’t necessarily believe for yourself, but words that would suffice for now.

“I’m sure it will find you,” you murmured.

There was nothing but silence in the room afterwards. feeling yourself starting to get drowsy as your sister got up, walking over to your bedside stool to retrieve her book.

“What’s his name?” she murmured.

At your silence, she continued, “you know, maybe I can keep my ears open for any gossip when I go to the flower market,” she insisted, eager to have a little bit of adventure in her otherwise mundane days, clearly.

You thought about it just for a moment, wondering if your pride overpowered your curiosity on what kind of gossip she would hear. You figured that in this moment, you couldn’t deny your curiosity.

“Jung Jaehyun.”

Only after she left, you realised she hadn’t specified who she was referring to.

===

The ache did not disappear when you woke up near the afternoon, as much as you wished it did. Frankly, you didn’t manage to get much sleep at all, the sound of your door bursting open being what jolted you awake.

No words were exchanged, simply your mother rummaging through your drawers she used for storage for something she couldn’t seem to find, returning empty-handed to wherever she came from.

Figuring you could have something to eat before returning to bed, you got dressed, heading to the dining room. You saw your sister and your mother there eating breakfast, the staff clearing what you assumed to be your father’s used plates and utensils. It was almost strange how you felt yourself relax at the knowledge of not having to sit through a meal with him.

“Good morning,” your sister’s grin was on full display as you sat next to her, “there’s a surprise for you in the drawing room.”

“Surprise?” you frowned, taking a bite of your food even though you weren’t all that hungry, knowing it would set your mother off if you weren’t eating.

As if it were orchestrated by some divine power, you heard the low vibrations of what could only be a man’s voice in your otherwise female-occupied household.

Men, as in, plural?

You stared at the doorway of the dining room, a strange feeling in your gut as you heard the voices grow louder, your sister seeming to catch on as she grabbed your hand, forcing you to abandon your breakfast as she led you to the drawing room.

“A fresh one,” she smiled, her clues not giving you any idea of what awaited you in the drawing room.

“Living and breathing?” You weren’t sure why you were breathless, but you became sure when you saw the man standing next to your father, whose gaze had met yours with a certain finality and hadn’t bothered tearing itself away.

Living and breathing, right in front of your eyes.

“Roses!” your sister chipped in, “pink ones. And white clovers too.”

Viscount Jung Jaehyun, standing just a few paces away from you and your sister in your drawing room as your father talked his ear off about the renovations he wanted to make to the estate.

It irked you how your thoughts had almost instantly shifted to the rosy lips of the viscount, allowing yourself to wonder just for a moment if the flowers were from him. It gave you whiplash to think of him gifting you such romantic flowers after the exchange you both shared just hours before.

Perhaps they were meant as some sort of an apology? Perhaps the viscount had dug deep within himself to find that his behaviour was far from pleasant. Yes , if that was the case, maybe you were right to think he wasn’t as horrible as he seemed, maybe the viscount had some decency in him after all.

“The name on the card didn’t sound familiar, but I figured you would know once you see it!”

That seemed to have caught Jaehyun’s attention (as much as he tried to hide it), though he masked his curiosity well as he pretended to be fascinated with the interior of your drawing room.

Rolling your shoulders back, you fixed your posture, reaching a hand out to the little card that was perched delicately in the midst of the flowers, a simple handwritten card that read:

- To thank you for the pleasure of your company - Nakamoto Yuta

“Are they from the viscount?” your sister asked loudly, earning a sharp nudge from you that sent her stumbling, your gaze darting to the viscount and missing the smirk that had graced his lips.

You shook your head, murmuring, “The other man.”

Your sister wasn’t doing a very good job in saving your face in front of the viscount, making no move to hide her dismay as her lips parted with a sigh of disappointment, “The boring one?”

Grabbing her hand quickly, you led her back to the dining room, making sure your voice was more than audible as you walked past the viscount.

“The only man from the evening who was worth remembering,” you commented, suppressing your satisfaction when you heard the viscount clear his throat, suggesting to move to your father’s office for a more conducive discussion.

Just as you’d settled back into your seat at the dining table, feeling more of an appetite to eat now after your little success in irking the viscount, your mother spoke from where she stood by the doorway, glancing out of the window briefly as she fixed her gloves.

“Get dressed, we should be ready to entertain callers soon.”

“Callers?” you couldn’t help but frown, hearing your sister grunt from where she was beside you.

“I’ve invited Mr Nakamoto for some tea, perhaps the two of you could go for a stroll in the late afternoon.” You inhaled deeply, something about the proposal not seeming to entice you as much as your curiosity as to what was going on in your father’s office with the viscount. It was a shame even boring estate talk could seem more appealing to you than conversation and a stroll with an attractive, eligible suitor.

“Well that’s my cue to leave, then. Wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of mindless talk,” amusement left your sister in hushed giggles, her chair screeching against the wooden floor loudly as she got up, making you cringe at the sound she was otherwise unaffected by.

Your mother hadn’t bothered acknowledging her departure, though you heard your sister’s footsteps bounding up the stairs, the sound of her bidding your father goodbye before the same thumping down the stairs echoed till the front door was shut.

You sighed, looking out of the window at the cloud cover that kept the sun from gracing anything beneath it, choosing once again to push your feelings behind you for the sake of your mother who wanted to ensure security for your future. For the sake of your father who longed to retire. For the sake of your sister who was still trusting that there was love and hope in her world.

You would receive Mr Nakamoto and you would do so gracefully. Another step towards the end goal in your long, tedious game.

===

The afternoon went perfectly. A little too perfectly, if you were being honest.

It was almost frustrating, how there was barely anything to complain about when it came to Yuta. He was on his best behaviour today, even managing to start and sustain a very well-developed conversation with your father when he had come down with the viscount briefly while they made their way to the other part of your estate.

And there you sat, like a jilted lover during the whole exchange, frustrated at the fact that Yuta had somehow managed to have everybody smitten for him, except yourself. A little nagging in your gut had tried to convince you that perhaps that was how Yuta wanted to go about this; winning over your family so he wouldn’t have to try so hard to win you over, as if this was his strategy in his own long, tedious game.

Even as you went out to promenade by the lake, you struggled to be present to the man next to you.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asked, earning a blank stare from you till you managed to register his question.

“Oh, yes I did. They’re lovely flowers.”

“Do you happen to have a liking for them? I saw many arrangements in your house when your mother was showing me around.”

You shook your head, the sudden recollection of your sister’s words about mindless small talk coming to mind as you dismissed them with a huff, “Not particularly. I mean, I do like them, but I wouldn’t go as far as making arrangements and whatnot. That is more of my sister’s hobby.”

Yuta hummed, “Do you have a favourite?”

Glancing up at Yuta, the way his smile was relaxed, his attention seemed to be solely focused on you. Something about it threw you off guard, wondering why he’d taken a liking to you when you were sure his smile and his charm would have any girl in your neighbourhood begging for his attention (perhaps just not yourself included).

“Lilacs.”

Yuta’s smile grew, looking somewhat pleased with your answer.

“Is first love something you hold dear to yourself?”

You let out a huff at that, impressed that he was familiar with the language of flowers, the thought of his pink roses from the morning making you feel somewhat uncomfortable at his pursuit.

You shook your head, “I’ve never actually… experienced it before.”

Yuta’s next words had stilled your fingers over your umbrella, wondering if he’d taken the words straight out of one of the romance novels in your bookshelf.

“I’d like to think it feels like this,” he sighed, a serene expression on his face as you walked together, “being able to share this with you.”

You were holding your breath, you were sure of it. But why wasn’t this feeling as heart-fluttering as you were expecting? Sure, his words were nice to hear, but was it because you were too distracted at the moment?

Now, you were frustrated. It wasn’t as if you could go back in time to ask him to repeat himself in the hope that you would feel something. Perhaps you were just tired, you told yourself (even if you knew that really wasn’t the reason behind your apathy).

“Shall we head back?”

Even as you were walking back, Yuta didn’t seem to let up as easily. His demeanour was vastly different from how it was at the ball. This time, he was asking you more questions about yourself, as if he were specifically orchestrating dialogue sequences that would allow him to insert romantic one-liners like the one before. Though they were flowery, and by the nature of the word you figured flowery would mean they were pleasant, but you were at a loss with the way they left you feeling well… not exactly pleased . You were hearing him, definitely, but you were stuck feeling like he wasn’t really hearing you.

As you were walking back, you reached your house just as the viscount’s carriage was leaving, tensing up as you saw your father standing next to the little flower garden behind the gates of your house as he saw the viscount off.

You avoided his gaze, hoping you would be able to walk past him without being stopped, but it seemed that wasn’t the case with how Yuta greeted your father with much more enthusiasm than you’d seen him bear all day.

You’d taken that as your queue to enter the house first, the sound of the piano echoing from the walls indicating your sister was home and that made you all the more eager to be in the company of someone you actually wanted to see today. Your father and Yuta followed behind you, not seeming to be affected by your absence as you drew closer to your sister, finally feeling as though you could relax slightly more in her presence.

“How was it?” she whispered, glancing not-so-subtly at Yuta, earning a small mustered smile from yourself.

“He was lovely,” you told her, (which in fact, wasn’t a lie).

She grinned.

“He’s handsome too, I must say. But even so, he can’t be compared to the man father was talking to this morning. They each have a different… air,” her shoulders lifted as she spoke, arms moving in the way your old piano tutor called ‘with emotion’ as she played, “you know, in the way they carry themselves.”

You let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly, “You do know that man is the viscount I mentioned the night before, don’t you?”

Her playing faltered abruptly (though your father and Yuta were too distracted to notice), slowly picking up where she’d left off, “ The viscount? The one named Jung Jaehyun? He was the man father was talking to?”

Her amazement was obvious, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand why she was so shocked.

You nodded, “The ill-mannered one.”

She frowned, “That’s unfortunate, then. He really did live up to what the townspeople were saying about him. Beauty and grace and elegance… a man that looks like everything he touches turns to gold.”

You rolled your eyes, amusement hinted in your smile, “Not everything gold is worth wanting.”

“Would you say Mr Nakamoto is the exception, then? More worth wanting than the Midas-touch-viscount himself?” She scoffed.

You didn’t have an answer for that, maybe because you weren’t convinced of the one you were going to offer her.

“We’ll see. He just might have to be.”

She giggled, seemingly satisfied with your answer as she resumed playing the piano, the lilting melody carrying you elsewhere for the moment until Yuta was done with the conversation he was having with your father, bidding you goodbye as he left.

As your father made his way over to you, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away and fidget in your discomfort. “I’m going to be away in the afternoons for business over the next few days, so you’ll be handling the meetings with the viscount on the estate. I trust that you’re already well versed on what needs to be taken care of.”

“Will mother be joining—”

“What good will that do?” he huffed, “Do not waste your time with these silly questions. There is no need to get her or your sister involved and cause them unnecessary stress. You are capable enough of handling it on your own.”

You sighed, watching him leave in the direction of his office, leaving you to slump onto the sofa next to where your sister was, curling into a comfortable position for a nap as the gentle melody worked on lulling you to a place where your worries were far away and rest seemed within reach.

===

If Jaehyun was surprised to see you the next day, he didn’t show it, simply glancing at you as he entered the house, nodding his head as if he’d expected you to be there (even if he really didn’t).

“I trust my father has briefed you that I'll be handling the estate matters while he’s away?” you were first to break the silence, watching as one of his hands moved to touch the pads of his fingertips, looking somewhat preoccupied. Or perhaps, he was recalling his exchange with your father, looking at you curiously. Though that curiosity had left as soon as it came, replaced with a playful glint in his eyes.

“My apologies,” his tone was anything but remorseful, punctuated by the little smirk that was playing at his lips, “I figure you’d much rather be… well, handling Mr Nakamoto.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “D’you fancy yourself a comedian, my lord?”

Jaehyun had simply shrugged, showing some modesty in the small shake of his head.

“Good. Because you’d be a very poor one.”

You began to lead him to your father’s office, Jaehyun noticing the way your steps had slowed as you grew nearer to the door, the deep breath you’d taken in before your hands had met the doorknob, turning it and pushing only to be met with a smell that was unmistakably like your father.

Hints of a pipe smoked hours ago, the smell of his library books, ink on his desk, the musk and citrus and alcohol that blended together to form the imposing presence of your father even when he wasn’t here. Your posture had straightened and your steps became quiet and wary almost instinctively.

You stayed far from his desk, as you had always done, surprising Jaehyun with the way you’d simply taken the documents you needed and sat yourself on one of the chairs in the office, legs crossing uncomfortably as you gripped the papers in your hands.

Eyeing you carefully, Jaehyun made his way to the chair nearest to you, pulling out his own blueprints that he and your father had discussed the day before.

“Did my…” you began, throat feeling dry all of a sudden at the sight of the documents before you, “did my father tell you what I had to go over on his behalf?”

Jaehyun simply tilted his head at you.

“We’ve gone over it actually, he… just told me to ask you for the stamp and to clear the financial documents. He mentioned that you took care of the family’s accounts.”

You figured you shouldn’t have been surprised that your father didn’t actually want your opinion on his decisions. You’d just let yourself get carried away thinking he wanted to know what you thought about the things he made you responsible for.

“Oh, so my business here is simply for the seal, am I correct to say that—?”

“No, actually, I would appreciate it if I could go over these plans with you once before you approve them. It’s only sensible if—”

You shook your head firmly, Jaehyun stopping himself at your gesture, eyebrows furrowing as if the situation was upsetting to him.

“That won’t be necessary. I would rather not impose on his… plans,” you sighed, averting your gaze from his as you stood up, making your way over to your father’s desk for his seal.

“Impose?” he quirked an eyebrow, wondering why it was that you seemed to withdraw so easily when it came to your father, “You had no problem imposing on my plans at the ball.”

Rolling your eyes, you struggled to keep your hands steady as they sifted past the papers on your father’s desk.

“I would be sorry if your initial plans were any good to begin with,” you murmured distractedly.

It was strange, how you felt as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed to. As if you were secretly rummaging around in his desk while your heart was thrumming wildly at the thought of him walking in and catching you red-handed, feeling the disappointment that would meet you in his gaze, rendering you a little child again who had more familiarity with these belongings than she did her father.

“If you’re not sorry about that, you could be sorry about the fact that people seem to think I’m courting you now.”

You debated ignoring his statement, glancing at him only briefly as you arranged the papers in your hand.

Humming, it seemed your urge to cover up your nerves had shown up in snappy retorts aimed towards Jaehyun, strangely unfiltered with him even though you figured you should’ve been.

“Of course, because a man like you should be able to show up to a ball simply for the music and drink.”

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you went about the process as calmly as you could, Jaehyun’s watchful, curious eyes unnerving you even as you made the seal.

“Are you alright?” he spoke suddenly, earning a sharp inhale and a glare from you in return, your grip tightening around the seal. Whether it was because the question felt out of place, or whether it was the fact that he had caught on to your discomfort, you would rather not admit.

You shut your father’s desk drawer with a quiet click, habitual movements from many instances of sneaking in here as a child for writing materials.

“What does it matter to you?”

“No, just… does my presence here make you uncomfortable?” his eyebrows furrowed, what seemed like genuine curiosity taking over his features once again.

Trust you to be defensive, though.

A scoff left you, the thud of the beaten book that you used to keep track of your family’s accounts dropping against your father’s desk echoing through the room as if that were your form of exerting your dominance over the room and everything it represented.

“Has the thought only crossed your mind now? Besides, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoffed, “your presence doesn't have that much of an effect on me.”

That would’ve done it , you figured. You could imagine the way his lips would curl into a sarcastic smile, or how he would simply scoff and announce that it was about time for him to leave. Anything but what followed next.

“Maybe not mine, but your father’s seems to.”

Somehow, you almost wished your sister was here to defuse the tension in the room, or to crack a joke to save you from having to face such an observation. But she wasn’t, and the truth of the matter was that you were sitting here facing a stranger who seemed confident that they could read you like an open book.

And maybe, his confidence wasn’t completely unfounded.

A silence fell between the both of you, tense and ridden with an understanding both of you were aware of but neither were willing to put down their pride first to admit.

You scoffed, waving him off in dismissal as naturally as you could, “You’ve never seen us interact.”

“I don’t have to,” he huffed, speaking matter-of-factly, “you’ve been… tense ever since I suggested having our meeting in his office.”

“I just don’t like being in stuffy offices,” you shrugged again, pretending to be busy with your notebook.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, confidence in his stare as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs, “ Or the person the stuffy office belongs to.”

Your sharp gaze met his almost instantly, letting out a small huff of air through your nose. You were at a loss of a witty retort, though somehow that didn’t feel as damning as you thought it would; the viscount didn’t seem to be attacking today in the same way he was before at the ball.

“It’s not a crime, you know,” he murmured, cutting you some slack from the way he averted his gaze to fiddle with his sleeve, “you’re not expected to be amiable with him all the time. At least not in my book.”

You attempted to swallow in the hopes that it would make the lump in your throat feel less suffocating, to no avail.

“Amiable,” you echoed, huffing at his choice of words. Even on good days, you don’t think you could use a word like that to describe your interactions with your father.

Jaehyun searched your expression, reading into your silence, shaking his head dismissively, “Sorry if I overstepped, I don’t usually have the habit of voicing out my observations so… carelessly.”

You didn’t believe him, strangely. Everything about what had just transpired between the both of you seemed anything but careless. Instead, it came with all the intentionality of trying to understand someone. Somehow, that knowledge made you less inclined to hold back in front of him.

When you finally felt like your voice wouldn’t give, you spoke, “Are you speaking from experience?”

His eyebrows raised in question, “My father?”

You nodded, earning a huff from him. Now it was your turn to watch him shift in his discomfort, averting his gaze and swallowing thickly. “Never really had much of a relationship with him or my mother… I uh… I lived with my aunt and uncle since I was a child.”

“Did you have much of a relationship with them, then?”

Jaehyun shrugged.

“Not as much as I did with my tutors,” he huffed, perhaps in some attempt to lighten the mood, “they were the ones I spent most of my time with.”

You hummed, hands stilling around the papers you had yet to hand over to him.

At your lack of an immediate response, he looked up, continuing, “It’s nothing to pity me for. They raised me as best as they could.”

“I don’t pity you,” you spoke.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly pity that you felt, but you weren’t sure what exactly the feeling that stirred in your chest even was. Perhaps it was a desire to be as grateful for your parents as he was? Perhaps it was an understanding of the little insistence that he didn’t want to be pitied. Perhaps it was the breathlessness that came with the way he was looking at you now, expectant for your reply.

Whatever it was, you found yourself recalling your conversation with your sister, feeling almost embarrassed at how even now, you still thought he was capable of turning things to gold.

“You don’t?” he questioned, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

“Do you want me to?” you weren’t sure why you were asking, simply curious how he would reply.

Jaehyun let out a huff through his nose, shaking his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to elicit from you. Although it was definitely something , he could say certainly that pity definitely wasn’t what it was.

“No, I don’t.”

You held his gaze, nodding. “Good, I don’t want you to pity me either.”

Before he could reply, you straightened up, handing the documents back to him with your father’s seal already in its rightful place. Taking in a deep breath, he stood up, taking you back almost immediately to what it felt like to dance with him at the ball, your proximity to him now allowing you to feel him towering over you, though strangely without the condescension that was present before.

“A lady like you shouldn’t care for my pity,” he murmured, the faintest of smiles playing at his lips.

And just like that, it was as if the exchange never happened, as if you both didn’t just bare a part of your souls to each other. Jaehyun straightened out his clothes, averting his gaze to the floor as you both allowed the façade of banter to mask the windedness that came from suddenly feeling all-too exposed.

“You won’t need to tell me twice.”

===

“You wouldn’t believe what I heard at the flower market,” your sister barged into your room as you were getting ready to attend a soiree that evening.

Your eyebrows raised, smoothing down your dress before sitting on your bed, giving her an expectant look.

“It appears Lord Jung is an anti-social man,” she began, “a few of the ladies at the flower market were talking about him, they said he’s rarely seen with people other than those he does business with. I interpreted that as the man having no friends, but that’s quite sad, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “I figure something like that is subjective.”

Your sister didn’t seem convinced, “I think it’s lonely. Not having anyone to talk to about your life, about your struggles, about your joys… only being able to talk about your business wherever you go. I find that an awfully lonely way to live.”

Huffing, you got up from your bed, “He doesn’t seem keen on finding a marriage partner either so perhaps he’s more comfortable in this loneliness than you think.”

“I don’t believe it,” she grunted, “but it does make some sense. Maybe that’s why his manners aren’t the best, because he’s used to talking to cunning old businessmen.”

You let out a huff of laughter, “You sound like you’re defending him.”

Giving you a shrug, she hummed, “Maybe if you see him at the soirée later you can find out for yourself if he’s worth defending,” she smiled.

You could only sigh at that, glancing out the door when you heard your mother calling for you.

“That is, if Mr Nakamoto doesn’t talk my ears off before that.”

One thing about soirées, or these public events during the season in general, was that they didn’t allow for much privacy at all. It wasn’t like you were in the confines of your father’s study with the viscount’s full attention on you, no. You were in someone else’s house, with many many different eyes on you, at the receiving end of everybody’s attention except the very person who wouldn’t seem to leave your mind.

It was as if you were being shadowed by Yuta, your mother looking on with delight as your chaperone while the both of you conversed and you nursed your glass of whatever drink he’d handed to you. In such a setting, you couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of your posture, your manners, your tone of voice, the way you held your fan, even the way you would time your glances towards Yuta. All part of your tedious game, you supposed— to win the affections of a man you felt no real desire towards.

What did you desire, then? You wondered. His attention? His approval? You continued with the knowledge that even if you didn’t desire him, you wanted to feel worthy of his desire. It was messy, and it felt manipulative. But you figured those were things you’d signed up for the moment you started playing this game (however unwillingly).

You could see Jaehyun standing at the corner of the room next to the grand piano, looking intently at the multitude of sheet music next to the piano. The sight was almost amusing when you recalled your sister’s words, because indeed as you looked at him now, the sheer intent of his glare on the sheet music would be enough to intimidate anyone from initiating a conversation with him.

“Do you know how to play?” Yuta’s words had caught your attention, and you’d almost grimaced at the realisation that you’d been walking towards the piano. Stopping just a few paces away from the piano, you cast a brief glance at Jaehyun who was still glaring at the sheet music in his hands.

“No, no. I don’t, actually.”

Yuta smiled, “I would offer to play something for you, but it seems viscount Jung has beat me to it,” he murmured as you heard the melody start to sound from the piano. You knew this piece, it was the one your sister was playing when Jaehyun had visited your house the other day.

For some reason, the piece held much more melancholy than you realised, or maybe it was the way he was playing it, holding you (and all the other women in the room, you guessed) captive, unable to look elsewhere.

You weren’t even paying attention to what you were talking to Yuta about, feeling the words come out of your mouth but paying no attention to what you were actually saying. Little did you know that as focused as Jaehyun seemed on his playing, every word of yours was flitting into his mind and refusing to leave.

“I was always envious of people who could play the piano,” you sighed almost wistfully, earning a hum from Yuta.

“Were you not tutored for it?”

You shook your head, “It wasn’t something I was interested in when I was younger, but I suppose as I grew older, the music started to feel comforting to an extent. Only I was simply a listener, not the one who conveyed such comfort,” you huffed, attempting to make light of your feelings.

Yuta, as always, replied with his flowery lines, not being able to pick up on how you were really feeling and taking your words at surface level with a smile.

“Well, you certainly are an excellent conversationalist, so I would still consider myself accomplished if I were you.”

You hummed, brushing off your discomfort and mustering a smile, “Thank you.”

Jaehyun had to withhold his amusement, wondering again why it was that you were so willing to withdraw to men like Yuta, men who were all-too-familiar with manipulating their words to their advantage. If you’d simply bit back with half the amount of snark that you generously gave him, he was sure Yuta would be at a loss for words.

How frustrating. Surely, you could tell that Yuta was not a good match for you, couldn’t you?

Coming to the end of his piano piece, Jaehyun stood up, simply picking up his glass of wine that he had set on top of the piano, acting as if he wasn’t the one at the receiving end of the room’s applause.

Perhaps it was a stroke of divine timing, but one of the servants had approached Yuta, murmuring into his ear something you couldn’t quite catch. Yuta straightened up in response, casting an apologetic glance your way.

“Forgive me, I need to excuse myself for a moment,” he muttered, rushing off to somewhere you couldn’t truly be bothered to wonder about.

Jaehyun did not waste the opportunity presented to him, taking just the tiniest of steps closer to you and murmuring behind his glass, “Evening… are you alright?”

He noticed the way your shoulders were tense, your fidgety gaze around the room, the way you’d kept bringing your glass to your lips but the level of liquid in your glass was barely going down.

“Please, spare me. I am in no mood for needless bickering tonight,” you huffed, bringing your glass to your lips again to take a small sip.

Truthfully enough, the ache was back again as you stood in the room filled with chatter and music. The ache of longing for the ability to rid yourself of the façade of the perfect marriage partner that was growing more tiring to uphold. The ache that grew stronger when you conversed with Yuta, feeling as though if you were to enter a marriage with this man, the ache would only intensify. It was dangerous to entertain him in a place like this, because Jaehyun’s presence always seemed to draw you out of this façade.

“Bickering?” he scoffed, a faint smirk appearing on his lips.

“Was that not what you approached me for?” you turned to him with a frown, “I suppose the soirée was getting boring for you if you felt the need to take such a drastic measure as to approach me of all people.”

There you were , he mused.

Jaehyun shifted another step closer to you, something about his proximity making the conversation between the both of you more obvious, and you could tell from the way your mother was looking at you that it was indeed obvious that you had his attention.

“Oh, not at all. I was hoping I could be reminded what an excellent conversationalist you were,” he drawled, clearly proud of himself judging from the smile playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “And you suppose you’re any better?”

“Of course, I am. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“You asked me a question? Must not have been worth remembering,” you sighed.

As much as you felt he annoyed you, you had to admit that it was somewhat relieving not having to be on your ‘best behaviour’ around him. You were sure any chance of marriage would be tossed out of the window if you were to speak in such a manner to Yuta (or any other suitor).

Jaehyun’s expression grew more serious, eyebrows lifting slightly in concern, “I asked if you were alright.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suddenly feeling as exposed as you did that day in the study. It was strange how easily he managed to read into your feelings. You figured you’d been doing a good job at masking it.

“What does it matter? It’s not like you to be so concerned,” you huffed.

“So, you’re not alright?” he prompted, earning a shrug from you, looking into your glass as though it held the answer you were both looking for.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m feeling alright or not, the soirée is not going to end anytime soon,” you danced around his question, hoping the mention of the soirée would redirect his line of questioning.

He noticed the Rubies that were draped around your neck, something about it feeling off. He much preferred the look of the Amethysts you were wearing before, the first time he’d met you.

“New necklace?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, earning a grunt in response.

“A gift,” you muttered, “from Mr Nakamoto.”

“I see. You still haven’t answered my question,” his tone remained firm, eyebrows furrowed and gaze intent on you.

You clenched and unclenched your fist, turning to him with your eyebrows furrowed, throat feeling dry as you tried to wrangle your voice awake when you met his gaze, uncomfortable at the way his attentiveness tempted you to pour out your feelings to him.

“Is this really the reason you approached me? Look, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. What does it matter? ”

Jaehyun was undeterred, meeting you with the same amount of stubbornness and challenge, “It matters because you’re… different. You behaved… differently when you were talking to Mr Nakamoto.”

“Compared to what? When I’m talking to you?” the words left you quicker than you could process them.

“Do you not think so?” he retorted just as quickly, tilting his head at you with the confidence that came from knowing the answer without you having to verbalise it.

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“Well… there’s no reason for me to act as though I’m trying to impress you.”

Jaehyun simply huffed in amusement, tilting his glass slightly as he contemplated uttering the thought that came to mind, going for it anyway.

“Somehow, that impresses me enough.”

Unsure what to make of his words, you shifted your gaze elsewhere, adjusting your grip on your glass because your palms had started to feel clammy. You remembered wondering what it would’ve been like at the receiving end of his attention, and now that you had it you were finding that even his words seemed capable of sprinkling gold dust on your heart.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” you changed the subject, your body starting to feel warm under your clothes, burning under the intensity of his gaze, wondering if this was how the sheet music must have felt under his gaze.

“I picked it up when I was younger. Out of all the instruments I've touched, I would say the piano is the one I tend to return to more.”

“It’s your favourite?”

He shook his head.

“What is your favourite, then?” You found yourself asking, genuinely curious this time instead of just a small-talk formality that you usually followed at such events.

You wouldn’t have known it, but Jaehyun was feeling the same unfamiliarity as you, feeling as though his body was moving before he could process it. He wasn’t used to holding a conversation like this with someone he barely knew, especially when it wasn’t about business or architecture. And for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the stares he was receiving as a result of such conversation.

“The violin,” he admitted almost sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed that he could play an instrument you could only dream of playing.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, gaze wandering to the violin that was perched nearby the piano, after being played by one of the guests when you’d first arrived.

“Why is it your favourite?”

He hummed, and by now you’d forgotten that Yuta had even promised to return, something in you not being able to find it in yourself to pretend that you were annoyed at Jaehyun’s attention, you truthfully weren’t. For someone as ‘antisocial’ as he was deemed, you found it was comfortable feeling like you didn’t have to present ‘textbook perfect wife’ answers for him. If only your sister could see you now.

“It was the first instrument I learned as a child… but I moved on to different instruments when I was older because my aunt insisted on me learning other instruments. You know, the more skills, the better. Somehow it’s…” he huffed, amused at his own willingness to share with you, the only person aside from his best friend Johnny that wasn’t keeling over begging to polish the ground he walks on.

It was refreshing, he was realising, to not be treated like he was perfect.

“It makes me very nostalgic. For that time in my life when there were no worries, you know? When all I had on my mind was the next piece I was eager to ask my tutor to teach me, waiting each day for her to retrieve the sheet music so I could play it until I knew it by heart.”

Jaehyun continued, “It’s strange, sometimes when I find myself picking up the violin again, it’s like the music just flows out naturally… and I realise I really did know it by heart.”

You hummed, nodding.

“Like muscle memory,” you offered, earning a soft smile from him unlike anything you’ve seen before. This one made you feel as though you were catching glimpses of Jaehyun as a child, the little boy whose only worry was for the day the calluses on his fingers would start to disappear.

“Can you play something now?” you weren’t sure what compelled you to ask, but the answer you were met with had surprised you even more.

“Oh, no no. It’s not… like that,” he huffed, still a hint of sheepishness in the smile that lingered on his features, “I don’t play it that often… rarely. Only when I'm really stressed, if there's too much on my mind.”

Nodding, you took a fuller sip of your drink, slightly more liberated now that your stomach wasn’t churning like how it was before.

“Your aunt must’ve really invested a lot of her fortune in your tuition, considering you were tutored for multiple instruments,” you hummed, earning a grunt from him.

“I suppose she had to, they received too much from my parents each month to not do anything with it,” he sighed, leaning against the bookshelf behind him, turning his head to look at you with tired eyes, “I still remember the way I would look forward to the letters they would send every now and then just to praise me for whatever competition I had won, or whatever certificate I'd achieved.”

“Do you think it was worth it? All the effort you put in?” you murmured, curious to how he would answer even though you knew you’d be at a loss if the same question was asked to you. Somehow, you felt like his answer would tell you more about him than small talk at balls or promenades would.

Jaehyun hummed thoughtfully, lips pursing slightly, “That was what love felt like to me back then, the love I felt for music and… their letters, so… do I think it was worth it?” he shrugged, a smile that bordered on bitterness had graced his features, “Do you?”

Perhaps it was the way you felt like you couldn’t hide under his gaze, or maybe it was the way you felt like he wouldn’t hold your grievances against you. Whatever it was, you found yourself wanting to share with him. And strangely enough, the idea of it had started to scare you less as time went by.

“My parents were like that too. You know, as the oldest daughter… no news was good news. My duty was to… to not cause worry, to be strong for the family, to take care of my sister, to perform well in all that I did for the family’s sake. For me, it was… like an instruction manual,” you huffed, finding yourself looking to him for affirmation that he understood what you meant, and the knowing smile and nod you received in return made your heart jump in your chest.

“Do all of this well and you’ll receive your parents’ love. Don’t do it and…” you trailed off, earning a hum from him.

“Tire yourself out trying and trying again,” he murmured, earning a deep sigh from you.

Did you think it was worth it? You weren’t sure, but you still found yourself trying nonetheless.

Jaehyun had succeeded in unlocking a part of you you’d never spoken to anyone about before, and like you said, something about it felt liberating, the solution to your ache starting to feel a little more within reach even if you still weren’t sure what it was.

“One of my friends, Johnny, has a pretty strong view about this… he says that people are fickle… that we can change based on the slightest of factors…”

“Your friend sounds a little bitter.”

The viscount laughed, “Quite the contrary, actually, I think he’s quite the romantic… just overly managing his expectations.”

“Is that so? What made him have such views, then?”

The viscount hummed, pressing his lips in a firm line before parting them to speak, “Money, I suppose. How people react to money, how he’s seen it change the way people treat a person. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell whether a person is enamoured with you or the security your wealth provides. Though, with the way things are, it leaves a woman with no choice but to seek out security first, love being secondary to everything else.”

You hummed, nodding slowly as you processed his words.

“Sorry, I interrupted. You were saying?”

Jaehyun wasn’t sure why that made him smile, choosing to dismiss it and continue anyway, “anyway, his view is that when we’re constantly trying and trying to follow these instruction manuals on ‘How to earn love’... at the end of the day they can hold it over our heads and decide that there are more instructions, more requirements we haven’t met yet… he thinks it isn’t possible.”

You frowned, “What? To find love?”

Jaehyun nodded, “Genuine love, I suppose. I guess I understand what he means. Even though more people have been talking about a love match these days, it feels out of reach somehow. People still end up looking at you like a list of instructions, a list of qualifications, weighing who has a list that is easier to meet and going with that.”

“Do you think yours is difficult to meet?” you found yourself asking, earning a blank look from the viscount.

“That’s the thing,” he huffed, “People like us… who try and try and are tired of trying… we wish we didn’t have one.”

Somehow, you felt a certain conviction in your heart, shaking your head at him.

“Maybe we don’t, and we just haven’t realised that yet.”

===

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun at the next ball, or the next, and he didn’t return to your house for meetings with your father. You figured he was busy, so you tried not to wait. Though the ache persisted, coming and going like waves. With how often you felt it, you assumed you would have grown familiar with it. But in cases like these, the familiarity was unsettling, as if your body was crying out for help that you weren’t able to provide.

Yuta kept you relatively occupied, sending you flowers regularly, light and bright coloured blooms attached to meanings of affection and purity and fondness, accompanied with letters containing equally flowery words. Though it didn’t keep you occupied enough.

Time seemed to pass without much of your awareness, the only thing you were aware of being the way the flowers Yuta sent would slowly wither and your sister would replace them with the new bouquets he sent over. You were growing frustrated at Yuta’s perfection, because that demanded perfection from you as well. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the liberation that came with your conversations with the viscount. Those were different, demanding honesty instead of perfection, and perhaps, perfection was found in that honesty.

“I think we can start thinking about discussing marriage with Mr Nakamoto,” your mother turned to murmur as you were having tea with Yuta in the drawing room, the man busy talking to your father about whatever literary piece they found they both enjoyed.

“Marriage?” you weren’t sure why the prospect seemed so daunting now that your mother had mentioned it, something about her words making you realise that her plans were solidifying and you couldn’t simply continue to play ‘tea party’ with Yuta much longer.

Your attention was diverted when your sister had entered with a stack of letters in her hand (presumably taken from the staff), her excited gaze meeting yours as she waved a single letter in your direction.

“Are those my letters?” your mother asked, earning a grunt from your sister.

“They’re father’s letters,” she informed tersely, making her way over to you and dropping a single letter into your lap, shoving the rest towards your mother in an attempt to distract her.

The dismayed expression on your mother showed it was somewhat successful, “You know, you really have to fix your manners when it’s your turn to debut,” she began, seeming ready to launch into a tirade of nit-picking towards your sister but you knew nothing could very well escape her watchful eyes when it came to you, eyeing the letter in your hands curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Sister’s letter.”

Your mother’s hand reached out quickly, grasping the letter in your hand and peering over your shoulder to look at it, seeing no indication of a sender other than an elaborate letter ‘J’ imprinted on the seal.

“J? Do we know anyone with that initial?”

Your thoughts ran first to Jaehyun, and the look you exchanged with your sister only proved your suspicions correct, though she was quick to cover for you.

“Johnson, remember? Betty Johnson? Sister’s old friend that moved overseas,” it almost surprised you how smoothly she lied through her teeth when she was never a good liar. You never had a friend with the surname Johnson.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have remembered her. I used to play with her and sister outside the church grounds when we were younger,” you added, pleased with how your mother had bought your lie, shrugging as she turned her attention back to her cup of tea.

“If you’re going to start exchanging letters, don’t expect the money to come from your father and I. We’re already putting more than we can into your dowry,” she muttered, earning a sigh from you as Yuta and your father returned from his study.

“Shall we promenade?” he offered, and you glanced at your sister before looking back at him, rolled your shoulders back and gave him your sweetest smile.

Your sister leaned over, pretending to fix your hair so she could lean in to murmur softly, “I’ll put the letter in your notebook.”

And so you left to promenade with Yuta.

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” he smiled, squinting his eyes as he looked up at the sky, with you holding your parasol above your head, simply giving him a small hum.

“Have any other suitors declared their pursuit of you?” Yuta spoke abruptly, earning a frown from you.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, something about your anxiousness swallowing your words. You could almost hear your mother’s voice in your head now, telling you once again to ‘ use your words ’.

“No, they haven’t,” you managed to force out, earning a solemn nod from Yuta.

“Really? Not even viscount Jung?”

Your frown deepened, “What makes you say that?”

“Nothing in particular… just figured he was the only other person that could have caught your attention this season.”

You huffed, even Yuta thought of Jaehyun highly. You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to get the image of the little boy playing the violin out of your mind when you thought of him, something about it was endearing.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but… do you know the viscount personally by any chance?”

Somehow your words seemed to have struck a chord with Yuta, his expression turning stoic and his gaze shifting elsewhere. He shook his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure? He seemed to find you familiar at the ball—”

“He must be mistaking me for someone else,” Yuta turned to you with a smile, though the firmness of his tone contrasted the gentleness of his smile. It was enough to deter you from asking any further. With Yuta, you needed to be careful, knowing something as simple as behaving in an ill-mannered way would be enough to make your family’s plans for security and stability fall through. It wasn’t as simple as it seemed with Jaehyun, who was always game for whatever you threw his way.

The mood had turned sour afterwards, the both of you remaining in relative silence (well, other than Yuta’s occasional utterances of praise for your parents) until you were both back at your house, the servant who chaperoned behind the both of you helping to take the parasol from your hands as Yuta got ready to bid you goodbye.

After he left, it was like your body moved faster than you could process. It was embarrassing , the way you felt like an excited child running up to your room and grabbing the book sitting on your desk, flipping it open and letting Jaehyun’s letter drop out onto your bed.

Tearing the little envelope open with your finger, you unfolded the letter, catching a whiff of something so unmistakably like Jaehyun that it almost felt like he was in the same room.

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N,

My apologies for disappearing without a word. I needed to leave urgently because of my friend, the one we talked about the other day. His father passed and I’m aiding him with the handover of his father’s business and some of the family property to him, since I was previously closely working with his father for their family’s winery. Perhaps I should be more apologetic for the fact that now social events are sure to be dreadful for you without my presence.’

You scoffed, you could almost picture the smirk on his face as he wrote that.

‘I am unsure when I am to return, but I am sure it will be before the season ends. I suppose now that my friend’s father has passed, he is to be looking for a wife as well, though I doubt it would be easy to convince him to come back with me. With his status now as a Marquess, I suppose many would be eager to coerce him into marrying their daughters if he were to arrive in town. Something he seems very opposed to.

Again, I hope I have not needlessly worried you with my sudden absence. Though, I suppose my absence would be something that gains rejoicing from you rather than disappointment. Nonetheless, things are rather hectic here. I hoped that in writing to you I could gain some form of entertainment hearing about the progress in the marriage mart that I am unfortunately missing out on. You can write to me, but it will be addressed to my friend’s estate as I am staying here until I leave. I look forward to hearing from you. Do keep safe and in good health.

-J’

“I’d keep that locked up, if I were you,” you jumped at the sound of your sister’s voice behind you, a mischievous smile on her face as she shut the door behind her, crawling onto your bed and making herself comfortable there.

“So is it official? That he’s courting you seriously?” she asked, and you could see the way her smile fell as you pursed your lips, shaking your head at her.

Now that you heard her words for yourself, it made you wonder. You expected Jaehyun to be someone meticulous, someone careful, someone who knew exactly what the implications of sending a lady a letter was in this day and age. It made you wonder about the intimacy hidden behind his otherwise mundane updates, and for some reason, it made you long for more.

“I’m going to write back,” you spoke, more for yourself than for her.

Her smile grew, “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, sister. I suppose you found he’s worth defending after all?”

You hummed absently, already pulling out your writing materials to begin writing your response to him.

“Not quite yet, but something tells me this will be worth it.”

‘Dear J,

My condolences for your friend’s father, I can only imagine how overwhelming it is to have all sorts of responsibility thrown at you before you can even process your own grief. Truthfully, I hadn’t noticed your absence’ (you were lying, obviously)

‘Perhaps because things have been hectic here as well. Each day seems to be filled with entertaining Mr Nakamoto and going for promenades. I’m quite tired of all the walking, to be very honest.

The mention of your friend made me think of what you said that day at the soirée, about finding genuine love in a world where marriage is an economic proposition. I find myself searching sometimes, even though I know my efforts are probably in vain. I know the reason I have been entertaining Mr Nakamoto is not because I’m attracted to him. It is like what you said, I find myself seeing him more as his list of instructions, and what that demands of mine. Then, I find myself drawn back to my duty as the first daughter of my family, drawn back to the need to secure some sort of relief or security for my family. By then, there is no thought of finding love in a marriage partner, only the transaction of it all. Still, there is a part of me that wonders how different the whole process would be if I truly loved my partner, how much less it would feel like a game and more like life.

I am only asking because I have not seen you dance with anyone at the events so far. I suppose you are either picky or disinterested. But just out of curiosity, do you think it’s possible? For you, I mean, to find genuine love this season?

I hope this proves as entertaining as you wished for it to be, I won’t apologise even if it ends up disappointing you.

From, me’

===

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N,

Thank you for your concern. My friend is doing much better now, and I hope this means the chances of him returning with me have increased. I would like for you to meet him, something tells me he would get along well with your sister, they both seem to have a penchant for the arts.

To answer your question, I believe it is possible. Whether it is wise of me to think so, or whether it is wishful thinking… that remains undecided. But I cannot be sure. Personally, I have not come across such love where you are seen for all that you are and still loved, but I would like to believe it exists. Whether I am able to find it this season or not, believing it exists makes it feel more like life, like you said.

With that being said, I do wish the same for you, as much as you may not believe me. More than just promenades, answers from manuals, accomplishments and duties, but life. Sure, duties are important, family is important. But in my honest opinion, I don’t think fulfilling your duties should mean sacrificing your happiness, especially when it isn’t very well your duty at all, but that of others projected onto you. Perhaps I would get stoned by your mother if I said so, but I mean it.

I have to be going now, but I can guarantee that I will be back soon. Perhaps in less than a month’s time you will find yourself bickering with me at the corner of a rich woman’s house again. Do keep safe and in good health.

-J’

You should’ve trusted the nauseous feeling in your gut when you saw Yuta arrive at your house that morning, having arranged a private meeting with your parents and leaving promptly after. There could have only been one reason behind it, and it worried you. Again, the ache intensified, feeling as though it would only solidify if your suspicions were proved correct.

It was during teatime when your mother finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“Your father and I are keen on you proceeding with Mr Nakamoto,” she spoke plainly, your hand halting around the handle of your teacup.

“Huh?” as pathetic as it was, was all you could muster.

“Weighing your potential suitors, Mr Nakamoto brings the most stability. He has property, he is of a suitable age, he has wealth, he is personable. He seems prudent,” she lifted her gaze from her teacup to glance at you, just the slightest of frowns as she met your wide-eyed expression.

You knew this, yet you weren’t sure why it shocked you to hear it verbalised so forwardly.

“I’m sure you have no complaints,” it came more as a warning instead of an assumption, enough to make your throat feel dry and your voice start to retreat, “you can expect him to propose soon, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour. The family’s reputation depends on your response.”

You thought back to Jaehyun’s words. If you were to reject Yuta’s proposal, would that make you wise or foolish? You knew what was riding on this decision. If you were to reject him, you would retain a little bit of your freedom, but you would damage your reputation. It wasn’t exactly ideal to be regarded as a jilt, much less to a man like Mr Nakamoto, who had many women in your town lining up for him. Weighing your other potential suitors, you weren’t sure if being married to a man older than your father was a better option.

Almost unconsciously, your thoughts wandered to Jaehyun, the feelings you associated with him— or more accurately, how different these feelings were from the ones you associated with Yuta.

It was starting to make you anxious, you realised that as you exchanged letters with him for a while now, he had grown on you more than you realised. The way you felt at the receiving end of his attentiveness. The way he seemed to read into your signals and cues and meet you where you were without expecting you to be perfect. The way he made you hopeful that you could find love… and perhaps wishful that you could find it in him.

You were anxious, because when you thought of Jaehyun, what was coming to mind wasn’t his credentials, his wealth, his family, or his status. But rather, it was him , the blunt yet gentle, aloof yet attentive, hardened yet tender-hearted person that he was.

You were anxious, because even as you were being told about your perfect prospect of marriage, you found that you only ached for him ; the man who was maybe a stranger to your textbook gentleman, but not a stranger to you.

You took in a deep breath, setting your teacup down with shaky hands, standing up and letting out the breath you were holding.

Use your words.

“I’m not feeling too well,” you murmured softly enough that you knew your voice wouldn’t give way, “please, excuse me.”

You struggled up the stairs, finding it difficult to focus on anything other than the way your heart was pounding and your head was starting to spin. Eventually, you found yourself at your desk, writing materials ready and already finding yourself addressing the only person you could think of at this moment.

‘Dear J,

My parents have been talking to me about pursuing a marriage with Mr Nakamoto, and in the position that I am, I am inclined to accept.’

===

This time, you didn’t receive a reply from Jaehyun. Previous times, you could always be sure that his reply would not take longer than a week. But this time was different, as the flowers Yuta continued to send withered and were replaced, there was no news of any mail for you. Even your sister was starting to grow concerned at the way things were going, starting to display Yuta’s flowers in places you wouldn’t pass as often when you were going about your daily routine. But you noticed, the flowers Yuta gave you were always light, bright colours in delicate blooms; nothing like the bigger blooms your sister tended to get.

The waiting was the worst this time, and you knew why. It was different this time, knowing you were anticipating his reply for different reasons. You couldn’t hide behind boredom, or curiosity as to how he would respond to your questions and words. This time your anticipation lay in hope, in your ache, and that was the worst kind of anticipation for you. Girls like you couldn’t hope, you had far too many responsibilities. You needed to be pragmatic, realistic, practical. There was no room for hope in your heart, yet you found that it was all you were doing these days.

Hoping that wherever he was, he was safe. Hoping that wherever he was, there wasn’t a perfect girl who was discovering if his touch could turn her worries into gold. Hoping that wherever he was, he was thinking of you.

You hoped it wasn’t too late.

The longer you waited, the more foolish you felt. Pouring your heart out to him in your letters like that when there was no real guarantee that he would feel the same way, when there was no real guarantee that he would take Yuta’s place.

As conversations about responsibilities, about being a good wife to Yuta had started to intensify, you gave yourself no choice but to bottle up the anxiety you felt, directing it inwards till you felt it start to take a toll on your mind.

There was a knock at your door before the door opened with a soft click, seeing your sister walk in carrying a vase containing new flowers, white lilies that filled your room with a scent that comforted you just slightly in your fatigue.

Setting the vase down carefully, your sister turned, stopping in her tracks when she realised you were awake, the slightest of frowns on her features, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head, a sigh leaving you as you stretched your arms over your head, “I was already awake a long time ago, don’t worry.”

Padding over to your bed to take a seat next to your legs, her body angled towards you and her hand smoothing over the blanket that covered you, her gaze scanned your appearance.

“Still nothing?” You asked, earning a small sigh from her.

“Nothing,” she shook her head. Pausing, she shook her head, “maybe the letters just got lost in the mail?”

You let out a sigh through your nose, shifting your gaze to the Lilies perched next to your window, the light seeping through the glass making you almost dread the day that was to come. Another day spent waiting.

“I would like to believe that, but I've sent far too many letters to him to believe that,” you murmured, “perhaps it was foolish of me, you know?”

Her frown deepened, “What was?”

“Thinking that I could actually find a love match. Thinking that I could develop an affection for the viscount and remain unscathed,” you huffed, bitterness laced in your words that left an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth.

Your sister hummed, “Do you think it is the affection you feel for him that is what is hurting you? Or the absence of this affection for Mr Nakamoto?”

There it was again, the wave that washed over you and forced you into sobriety, the ache for the rest that went beyond physical things that you were starting to give up trying to satisfy. You supposed when push comes to shove, you would find something to love in Yuta, you would simply have to.

“It’s been more than a month, sister. I cannot… I cannot afford to wait for him much longer. I cannot afford to keep avoiding Mr Nakamoto.”

She sighed, “I know. Father has been meeting him to discuss your marriage arrangement for a while now.”

Somehow, that was enough to solidify your decision for you, as reluctant as you were. Saying yes to Yuta’s proposal… perhaps it would be a wise decision in your trying and trying to earn the affections of your father. It would be wise for you to do what is pleasing to your family. It would be wise for you to be obedient, to continue to be dependable for them.

You heard the click of the lock, the door opening to reveal your mother, “Mr Nakamoto is here, dear. He has requested a private audience with you.”

Exchanging a knowing look with your sister, you nodded.

“Give me a moment to make myself presentable. I shall be down shortly,” you murmured, seeing your sister still wearing that same look of concern as you got out of bed, your mother leaving and shutting the door.

Getting ready, you stared yourself down in the mirror, glancing between yourself and the sight of your sister behind you on your bed, a now unreadable expression on her face.

“I’m not going to refuse when he asks,” you murmured, more for yourself than for her.

Perhaps she knew this, because the nod she gave you was all you needed to give you the little bit of conviction that you would go through with this, for your family’s sake.

===

Perfection was subjective, you knew this now. You knew it for a fact as you lay in bed, your head spinning and your heart feeling heavy, a week since Yuta had left town for business after your engagement.

The stress of it all was getting to you, the ache in your heart for rest, the ache to not have to be ‘on’ and be present to all the people and things that demanded your attention, the pressure you were putting on yourself to be the person your parents expected you to be, or maybe who you expected yourself to be, the ache to be able to depend on someone other than yourself.

You couldn’t even shake the fact that you were still wondering about Jaehyun, the last bit of desperation in you used to hope that he would return soon. It was amusing, considering that his return would probably be worse because you were already betrothed to another man. Somehow, you were still eager to write to him, asking your sister to help to pen down your messages because you were too weak to get out of bed. At least when you did this, you could say you still tried at the end of the day, because trying was what you were familiar with.

You could barely get yourself out of bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep away your days as you waited for Yuta to return, for him to seal your fate with your marriage. Each day, your sister would come in and attempt to get you to eat, but you couldn’t find it in you to have an appetite, simply eating a few bites to appease her before you were allowed to sleep the time away before your next meal.

Little did you know that your waiting for Yuta was in vain.

Jaehyun almost thought he was hallucinating when he heard the sound of a familiar laughter echoing a few tables away from him at the bar he was at with Johnny. “Do you recognise him?” Johnny asked, evident disdain in his tone and the pointedness of his glare, earning a confused look from Jaehyun.

“Who?”

“That man over there, the conman, Nakamoto Yuta? was his name if i recall correctly,” Johnny gestured with his head to the source of the laughter, Jaehyun’s eyes narrowing when he realised that the man sitting at that table was very much familiar, and very much Yuta.

“Conman?” Jaehyun murmured, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he observed the woman next to him, the Rubies she adorned on her neck identical to the ones he saw you wearing at the soirée.

Johnny nodded, using his finger to trace the mouth of his glass, “I recognise him from my time in Paris. You see the woman next to him? Remember how I told you Rubies were popular among the women there?” Johnny gestured to his neck, “It took me a while, but I realised it was only because that was his trademark. Like a branding for the women he was set on cheating for their money in exchange for his affection.”

Jaehyun frowned. Did that make you one of Yuta’s targets, then?

“Are you familiar with his methods?”

“Too familiar, I wish I wasn’t,” Johnny sighed, “He tried the same thing on my cousin. You know, all these young girls looking for the perfect husband. He paints himself out to be little less than a saint, and they eat it up. The prince charming that came to sweep them off their feet when in actual fact his occupation is never revealed, his life is a series of carefully constructed lies that differ depending on who he’s talking to… he strung my cousin along for ages, doing ‘business dealings’ with my uncle that landed him in debt that my father had to pay off.”

“And your cousin?”

Johnny knocked back the rest of the alcohol in his glass, “Heartbroken, obviously. Once he had his fill of her and her family’s money he left without a single warning.”

“Couldn’t you file a suit against him for that?” Jaehyun’s mind was racing with questions, with a growing worry for you, especially since the last letter he’d received from you was talking about your likely marriage to Yuta.

“And what about the women? Wouldn’t they have warned each other by now? Isn’t it obvious when everyone’s receiving the same thing—the Rubies and flowers and all—from him?” Jaehyun continued, earning a deep sigh from Johnny.

“That’s the thing. She was too in love with him by then, she insisted that we couldn’t go after him. Plus, by the time he was done with them, they didn’t have enough money to file a suit even if they wanted to.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t want to be the centre of attention of a doting, romantic, young , attractive young man?” Johnny let out a bitter laugh, “You of all people should know it’s all business. When someone like Yuta comes along, he brings the fantasy of a desirable love match with him. It was never about what they were receiving, but who they were receiving it from. The perfect prince charming he made himself out to be.”

Johnny glanced over at Yuta with a sigh before raising his hand to catch the server’s attention to order another drink.

At Jaehyun’s lack of a response, Johnny noticed his friend’s face paling, his gaze fixed on the table looking deep in thought, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“The girl,” Jaehyun rasped, clearing his throat and blinking his eyes harshly, “the one I sent the letter to…”

“Yeah? Didn’t you say she was getting engaged?” Johnny hummed, earning a grim nod from Jaehyun.

“It was supposed to be to him .”

Johnny’s lips parted, exchanging a knowing look with Jaehyun. He wasn’t daft, he knew Jaehyun’s affections for this girl ran deep, deeper than he let on.

“I… I need to go back,” he said finally, “I hope you can understand.”

At this, Johnny let out a laugh, an incredulous look on his face.

“Finally! I was wondering when you’d come to your senses.”

“Huh?” Jaehyun’s stare was blank, confusion written all over his face.

“ I’m not the one keeping you here… I think we both know that,” Johnny spoke slowly, nodding at Jaehyun, the latter who was already trying to form a mental estimate of how long it would take him to get to you.

“God, I feel so…”

“Foolish?” Johnny offered with a smile, earning a glare from Jaehyun.

“I can’t believe I was going to sit here and do nothing while she gets cheated by that man,” Jaehyun brought a hand up to wipe his face harshly.

Taking a sip of his drink, Johnny huffed, “Want me to hit him for you?”

Jaehyun scoffed, “Not if I get to him first.”

“I’ll tell them to prepare your carriage for tomorrow morning, you’ll be back in three days at most,” Johnny spoke calmly, amusement still lingering in his smile as he observed Jaehyun’s lost expression, the viscount seeming too blinded by the rage he felt towards Yuta to think clearly.

Johnny grunted, waving his hands in dismissal, “Don’t waste your time with him, go to your girl first.”

Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he was picturing when he imagined returning to you. He got your letters, every single one of them. He read every word to the point where he was sure he knew them by heart. Your letters told him about the town, about who had gotten engaged, gossip from the flower market, about the weather, the balls you attended. From the letters alone, he would have figured you were doing perfectly fine.

What he hadn’t expected was to have your sister answer the door and look at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“My parents aren’t here,” you informed before he could greet you, earning a huff from him.

“Sorry for uh… for paying such an unexpected visit, but… I was wondering if I could see your sister?”

Your sister thought to you, lying in bed grieving the loss of a future she dreamed of, wondering if the viscount’s presence here would put an end to that grief.

“She’s… sick.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed, “Sick? With what?”

“Heartbreak, I suppose,” your sister replied tersely, giving him a pointed stare, unsure what to make of Jaehyun’s intentions.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows lifted, his thoughts immediately going to Yuta and feeling himself start to bubble with the same rage and concern that brought him here. Most of all, love.

“You can stay here, I’ll check if she’s willing to see you,” she spoke, still eyeing him cautiously as she led Jaehyun into the house, stopping him at the stairwell as she made her way to your room.

“Sister,” she knocked on the door, opening it and peeping her head in, whispering harshly with wild eyes, “The viscount is here!”

Your head snapped up from your pillow abruptly, only to fall back onto your pillow in immediate regret as it throbbed and pounded. Your headache was torturing you, but for Jaehyun, you supposed you were willing to brave through it.

“Okay. He can come up, but you have to stay in the room with us,” you said as firmly as you could.

Your sister hummed, turning to leave the room.

“Not unless he requests a private audience…” she murmured lowly, earning a glare from you (futile as it was, since she’d already left the room).

Jaehyun was more than impatient to see you, but the sight of you tucked under the covers of your bed, a cloth and small basin next to your bedside and the cold sweat on your face made his heart ache.

He wasn’t sure how to place himself as he entered the room, choosing to stand in front of the side of your bed you were facing, his lips curling ever so slightly in amusement when you had turned your body to face away from him.

“What happened to you?” his voice came out almost breathless, with traces of exasperation.

You didn’t want to open your eyes and look at him, you didn’t think your resolve would last if you could see the look of concern and frustration on his face he held now.

“Nothing,” you murmured. So much for ‘using your words’.

“Stress,” your sister cut in, earning a sigh from Jaehyun.

“I came because… I wanted to warn you,” Jaehyun almost winced, his words not coming out how he’d planned.

“ To warn me? ” your tone was strong even in your weakness, “not because you promised you would come back?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “I… look, you can’t go ahead with the engagement with Mr Nakamoto.”

You frowned.

“And what makes you think you can tell me what to do about my future?”

Jaehyun was growing frustrated now, “I’m not, but even if I was, I wouldn’t be the first one telling you what to do with your future,” he said pointedly.

“Why are you meddling? I never asked you to get involved,” you felt like a stubborn child, but you were more upset at the fact that it was him of all people, advising you not to marry Yuta.

You supposed that was what you wanted when you’d sent him that letter, but a very belated form of it, showing up in front of you now.

“My apologies, I did not ask for your permission,” he scoffed, “that isn’t the issue here, Ms Y/L/N, you cannot proceed with this engagement.”

“Perhaps your warning would be of more use if you’d sent it sooner in a letter,” you huffed.

You knew this was the sulky side of you speaking now, but it was the truth. Did he think he could simply waltz into your bedroom after months of silence, tell you not to marry the man you were engaged to and expect you to comply graciously?

“I don’t need your help with my marriage.”

“Marriage?”

Your sister wanted to avert her gaze, the tension in the room growing thicker by the minute, but it was impossible to look away, with the viscount looking unlike she could ever imagine seeing him. Desperate, frustrated, emotional . Nothing like anyone knew him to be.

“We’re already engaged,” you murmured, as if reluctant to solidify the truth by speaking it into existence.

“Besides, like I said. If I needed your… interference—”

“Help,” he corrected, earning an eye roll from you (not that he could see it, your eyes still being closed).

“Fine, help. If I needed it, I would have asked.”

“Is help only given when it is needed?”

You huffed, the bubbling of frustration within your chest growing stronger as you called to mind your emotions for the past few months.

“It definitely seems to be otherwise when it’s coming from you. Needed or not, I’d rather not have your help at all,” you forced your eyes open, immediately regretting it when you turned your head to meet his gaze.

Desperate, frustrated, emotional.

“You don’t mean that, I’m trying to warn you. You don’t know what kind of man he truly is.”

"Consider me warned,” your gaze was as firm as you could muster, not finding any reason to withdraw when it came to Jaehyun. This was yourself, in all that you were feeling.

“Don't patronise me. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” You almost faltered, almost . A small nagging fear started to creep up on you, telling you that you’ve made a grave mistake with Yuta.

“And you do?” you asked, slowly shifting yourself so you could see him better, unsure if you were being spiteful or curious now, maybe both.

“Better than you, it seems,” he huffed, taking a step closer to your bed, your sister pressing herself against the wall as if that would help the tension in the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she watched the dynamic between you and Jaehyun unfold.

It was nothing compared to how she saw you and Yuta interact, but something about this was interesting. It was like the both of you were simply hiding behind your true feelings, masking it with frustration and beating around the bush, focusing on unimportant details because you were both too afraid to be the first one to reveal your heart.

“And where is this understanding coming from?"

Jaehyun visibly hesitated, sighing before he told you the truth, "Johnny and I saw him when we were travelling."

“Johnny?” you frowned, “Oh, you mean the marquess that dares not show his face in this town?”

Again, the focus on unnecessary details to prolong the time before you had to finally face up to what you really wanted to hear and say.

“His title is not who he is,” was all Jaehyun could muster, feeling the tension in the room as he continued to hold your gaze.

“And by that same logic, I can say you don’t know my partner any better than I do,” you shrugged, the words sounding unfamiliar even as you said it.

That seemed to strike a nerve with Jaehyun, his tone rising slightly in his urgency and frustration.

“Would you stop calling him that? He’s not going to come back! You know why—?”

“What would you rather me call him then? My husband-to-be ?”

“—he’s too busy conning and cheating people like your parents in other towns for money now. Your family is going to be left in debt because of that man.” Though Jaehyun wasn’t shouting, his tone was filled with such urgency, such firmness, that he might as well have been. The implication of his words echoed louder than anything, louder than the sound of your heart picking up speed.

Your silence spoke for you, feeling as though a large wave had just washed over you and pulled you under. Your heart continued to thump quickly as you struggled to regain your bearings, as you struggled to gain control over yourself. Only one thought rang in your head, your mother had already given Yuta your dowry before he disappeared.

You glanced at your sister, her debut would need to be delayed now. Your family couldn’t afford to muster up another dowry so soon, not when you hadn’t gotten married yet.

“Now do you understand why I needed to come and warn you?” his tone softened, and without realising he began to make his way closer to you, daring himself to look closely at you in your shock, processing what he was feeling at the sight of it. Which, at the moment, could only be described as wanting to pull you out from under the waves, to dive in and look for you so he could bring you to the surface.

“I cannot—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “I will not watch you let yourself be humiliated, waiting for that… that liar ."

Something in your gaze was hurt, vulnerable as you looked at him, wondering how he could say such words with such confidence when he was the one you were waiting for this whole time.

“I am not a stranger to waiting, you of all people should know that very well,” you said.

Jaehyun’s expression softened, still brushing aside what he wanted to say to you, his thoughts focused on how you must be feeling to find out you’ve just been conned by your fiancé.

“Why do you think I came here?” he asked, and the reminder that his purpose here was to warn you and not for other reasons was a bitter pill to swallow, so this bitterness showed in your response.

“In hopes to annoy me to death, perhaps.”

At his lack of a response, you frowned, “…. Why aren’t you saying anything? I expected a witty remark by now.”

What you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun to sigh, something in his expression akin to tenderness, which didn’t make sense to you at the moment. But it was a very tenderness that you always wondered about, what he reserved it for, how it would show, how it would feel. It seems all of those questions were answered now as you looked at him.

“Where do you think that man is? Right now, while you’re in this condition. Where do you think this man that you’re set on marrying will be after hearing of your sickness?” His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, though even if your attention was momentarily diverted, nothing could tear it away from his gaze. As though he had a million things to say to you, hidden inside of him, and you were only catching glimpses of it through his eyes. Yet they still managed to be gleaming, twinkling, pulling you out from under the waves.

“Yet here you are… destroying yourself for somebody who is incapable of loving you in the way you deserve,” he spoke almost bitterly, and the (not so) little hope within you had begun to surface again. Courage to make your feelings known, and hope that they would be received.

Jaehyun let his gaze shift to the way your hand lay on top of your covers, holding the fabric close to yourself for some sense of comfort. It surprised him, the way he wished he could hold you, to embrace you in his own comfort. The thought came naturally to him, as if that was his body’s natural response, to want you to be able to receive that from him and for him to give his love and affection freely to you.

“I’m sorry, I know it must be a lot to process. He had me believing his act too, I… should’ve asked Johnny sooner, if I did then you would not have to face such grief now—”

“It’s not about him,” you spoke, hoping your voice wasn’t quivering with how you were on the brink of tears, frustrated that you couldn’t tell what he felt for you even now, but filled with hope that you were sure you couldn’t hold your feelings within you much longer, “it was never about waiting for him, or… grieving for the loss of him .”

Jaehyun fell silent, lips parted slightly in shock as he held your gaze, your pleading eyes meeting his.

“Do you really think all these months have been for that man?”

“I wrote to you endlessly ,” your frown deepened, the ache in your heart worsening when you saw the way Jaehyun’s gaze softened, moving closer to you but stopping himself with evident restraint before he could get too close, “even when I could barely move myself out of my room the only thought on my mind was that I needed my words to reach you somehow, I needed some part of me to reach you… somehow.”

Your vision blurred, making you blink harshly. The fact that you couldn’t see him clearly behind your tears disconcerted you, “What else was I supposed to think when I didn’t hear back? What other choice did I have?”

Jaehyun paused, remembering your sister’s presence in the room, deciding that now would be the time where he stops dancing around the reason why he truly came back to see you.

“May I…” he turned to face your sister, “have the honour of a private audience with your sister?”

Her eyes widened, fighting the smile that threatened to show on her face as she gave you a knowing look, averting her gaze as her hand came up to cover her mouth, nodding. Gesturing a hand to you, she already began leaving the room, “Of course, of course. By all means.”

“As much as you may think I hate you, or… am here to meddle in your life or annoy you… I don’t like seeing you like this. I do not wish to see you in pain,” he let out a sigh through his nose, taking another step closer to your bed, daring himself to take a seat next to your legs, his body moving naturally as though this was what it meant to simply allow himself to be. Like muscle memory.

You huffed, “I’ve always been good at masking it, I suppose.”

He shook his head, displeased, “Or nobody has bothered asking if you needed to be relieved.”

“I’m sorry I did not write back to you. I just… in retrospect now I realise it was foolish of me but… from all your letters I just assumed,” he brought a hand up to run through his hair in frustration, “I assumed you were perfectly fine with Yuta. I had no right coming back and disrupting that, as much as I wanted to.”

“Believe me, I wanted to,” he huffed, “and it surprised me because, well, it was strange. It felt like you were seeing me for who I was… as if I was known for more than my wealth, my appearance, for everything in myself that was not perfect. But with you, it wasn't a matter of having to try to earn love, but to re-learn what love is, what it feels like.”

Your throat felt dry, something about his honesty making the ache in your heart grow, feeling as though what you sought to satisfy this ache was within reach, yet still at a loss for what it was that you desired.

"I did not know how to convey that in my letters. No words were enough, nothing... nothing was quite satisfying enough in expressing what I wanted to say to you. The thought of hiding what I felt beneath enquiries about the weather or about Mr Nakamoto made me sick to my stomach. That kind of intimacy that I felt when I was with you... It scared me because it only made me wish for more. I didn't think it was what you wanted."

“I thought that I could just separate myself from the situation, to resolve it that way before it could hurt me, but it was only when I saw that man when I was with Johnny that I realised,” his gaze flickered between your eyes and his hands, returning to your eyes and meeting you with that same hope.

Hope that gleamed, twinkled, that was not rooted in fear but in love.

“You deserved more than him, the love that you allowed me to discover was very much possible… the love you deserve. It would hurt me more if I had to watch you forgo that for the sake of others.”

Use your words.

“What do you suppose is this love that I deserve?” you dared to ask, somehow the use of your words did not feel as manipulative as it always did, it did not feel like you were trying to hide behind them this time, but to let your heart be known through them.

Jaehyun remained firm, and this conviction was enough to make you feel like you were slowly being lifted up to the surface of the water, the light seeping through the water making your surroundings feel brighter.

“... a love that remains forever.”

You weren’t sure if you were breathing, feeling the water get lighter as you followed the light from his eyes.

“And you suppose that is within reach for me?” your voice was barely above a murmur.

Jaehyun nodded, the hint of desperation lingering in his tone, “I promise you, it is within reach.”

“You cannot promise me a forever and not give it to me.”

There was a hint of amusement in Jaehyun’s gaze, the slightest of smiles on his face at your response. He wished you would remain this way, unafraid to use your voice with him, unafraid to assert yourself, to allow him to see, know and love you for who you are.

“I would not have mentioned it if I were not ready to give it to you at this very moment.”

Your lips parted slightly, “How do you suppose you will do that?”

Jaehyun wore the tell-tale expression that let you know he thought of something that either pleased or amused him, as if waiting for the right timing to say his smart line with a smug tone.

“By… asking you to marry me.”

If you thought his eyes gleamed and twinkled before, the smile that he wore when he saw the sheer relief grace your features. The feeling of being pulled above the surface of the water.

“It’s not too much to ask, just… be with me. Depend on someone other than yourself for a change.”

“My Lord, you know—” you began, turning your head abruptly and immediately regretting your sudden movements, your head beginning to throb even more. Jaehyun shocked you with the way he adjusted your pillow, helping you to lower your head back down onto the pillow carefully, smoothing your hair away from where it stuck to your face from your cold sweat.

“I want you to,” he nodded.

It was strange, being told that someone wanted you to depend on them when you were always used to being the one who was depended on. Instead of promising you gold, he was promising you the warmth of it, the value of it. Not the ‘Midas touch’ that took life away from things, but one that brought light and hope.

You wanted this . Not your long, tedious game, but the life he was offering you, a life of love, love even in imperfection, love that brought with it rest, love that was a state and not something to earn.

You nodded, “I want to…” your body felt warm under his touch, your gaze following his movements as he picked up the cloth draped over the small basin next to your bedside, wringing the cloth after wetting it and using it to dab the sweat from your face and neck.

You felt as though you weren’t breathing, a wave of emotion rushing through you at the feeling of being under his care. It was as though he was removing the little bandage you used to cover the ache that you felt, replacing it with a bandage that fit, one that wrapped around the ache instead of just trying to suppress it.

“I want to marry you,” was all you could muster, Jaehyun letting out a huff of amusement as he set the cloth aside, his left hand moving to your face, letting the pads of his fingertips trace the side of your face before letting his thumb smooth over your cheek gently. It was unmistakable, the feel of the calluses on his fingertips from what you assumed was his recent playing of the violin.

“Does my presence have that much of an effect on you?” he drawled, smugness laced in his tone as he brought you back to your exchange in your father’s study. His gaze flickering to your lips just briefly, making your heart skip in a way you’d never experienced before.

You rolled your eyes with affection, this time not feeling the need to ‘use your words’ to hide once again.

“Perhaps it does.”

===

‘My forever only, Time and time again, I am reminded that I was foolish to think I could live the rest of my life without you when a day that passes by when I am not with you is filled with a longing I cannot imagine I could ever grow comfortable with, much less befriend.

Back then, I was used to being all alone. I found this solitude to be a companion, though loneliness is never a good lover. The sky gets ethereal for the things no longer living in chains. You allowed me to come to know what that truly meant, what it truly felt like. Love given freely is all I have to offer you, so I hope you’ll have me.

My love, I have not stopped thinking of the way you look at me, and each time I awake I find myself waiting for when I may be under your gaze again. The thought lingers before I am with you, filling me with an inexplicable feeling of love that refuses to leave even when we part. Forever sounds daunting but when I envision a forever of this love that you meet me with in your eyes, your smile, your presence, it becomes a boundless sea I wish to swim in for as long as my spirit exists.

All I ask of you, all I want is having you in my day. To keep you in safety, health, and love.

- J, your forever only.’

“Do you remember what was discussed?”

You were drawn from your thoughts, your sister handing you the bouquet of dark red roses as you started walking.

What did you discuss?

Right.

Be yourself. You felt the crunch of cobblestone beneath your feet as you made your way with your sister to the church. You are allowed to launch into unrelated discourses out of panic. You fixed your gloves so they fit comfortably around your hands and arms. Have good manners, unless provoked. You could hear your sister humming to the piano piece she’d been practising that morning. You are safe to express yourself. With the sound of her humming, the rustling of the big trees overhead and the wind caressing your face gently comforted you.

Reaching the doors of the chapel, you spotted your father who awaited you, though you couldn’t focus on anything else once the doors opened, your gaze immediately finding the man who stood at the altar, a smile adorning his face once he met your gaze. A wave of clarity washed over you; you felt peaceful.

There he was, not a marriage partner, not an economic proposer .

Jaehyun, your love match.

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ghostlykeyes · 11 months

Note

aki w a housewife!s/o like a sweet wife he comes home to after a long day at work ! yknow :) someone to help him wind down with a nice home cooked meal <33

Aki

Aki isn't quite sure how he managed to obtain something so peaceful and domestic, but he cherishes you, and the home you two have created, a lot. The first thing he does each morning is roll over in bed and give you a kiss. He likes to wake up before you so that he can make the both of you breakfast (he knows that if he sleeps in, you'll beat him to it and he'll wake up to omurice in bed). Aki pours a cup of tea and you enjoy breakfast on the back deck, chatting quietly about your plans for the day while you watch the sun come up. He relishes this slice of domesticity he gets to experience with you each morning, before work shatters the illusion of peace.

He knows that you don't mind scrubbing the blood out of his button-downs or patching the holes torn in his pants, but Aki always keeps a spare change of clothes at work anyway. He doesn't want you to worry when you see how beat-up he gets at work sometimes. Obviously, he can't hide his injuries, but the ruined clothes—those he can hide. If they're easily salvageable he'll just bring it to a dry cleaner's, but if not, they go in the trash. He comes home with a scraped face but clean clothes, and he always shrugs and says he's just careful if you question it.

Someone gave you an apron as a wedding present and Aki thinks you look just adorable in it. Whenever you're in the kitchen, he always sneaks up behind you and undoes the knot to tease you.

Aki appreciates everything you do for him, but above all else he loves when there's a warm bath ready for him after he stumbles home from a stressful day. If he calls you during his lunch, already sounding ragged at noon, you know just what to do. By the time he's home, you've gotten a lavish bath ready for him--candles, Epsom salts, soothing music, the whole nine yards. He takes a good ten minutes to just soak and decompress, and then Aki insists you get in with him.

It doesn't matter if you're the worst cook on planet Earth, Aki will still eat your dinner every night and swear to you that it's the best thing he's ever tasted. He knows the effort that cooking takes and he's not about to criticize you. (But, if you can't seem to make a boiled egg without...somehow...burning it, he may gently give you a few pointers in the kitchen.)

If you're a good cook, though, Aki lets you know it. There's never, ever leftovers from dinner and he always reaches for seconds or thirds.

Aki will love you forever if you meal prep for him. He doesn't mind eating out, but a home-cooked lunch always tastes better. If you really want to make him happy, include some sweets and a sticky note saying "You're the best! <3".

Aki's favorite excuse for avoiding social events is that you're at home, waiting for him with a nice dinner on the table. "Oh, no thanks," he says, whenever someone asks if he'd like to go for drinks or see a movie with a group of friends or coworkers. "My spouse and I already have dinner plans."

Even though you're at home taking care of the house while he works, Aki refuses to let you do all of the housework. "I live here too, dear," he points out if you protest when he starts wiping down the counters after dinner. "It's not fair to make you pick up after all of my messes."

Aki likes to leave little doodles on the grocery list for you. Typically, it's small things like hearts or short messages like 'Hope you're having a good day', and 'Your husband loves u!'. Once he got especially creative and drew an incredibly lopsided squid next to the bullet point for calamari. Amused, you keep the little scribble stuck to the fridge.

More often than not, Aki brings home flowers for you. It's a signal of his appreciation. Even if a handful of daisies isn't much, he doesn't like coming home empty-handed to a delicious meal on the table and a gorgeous spouse. Surely, he should have something to give in return. Smitten, you put the flowers in a vase and plop them in the center of the table so you can admire them while you eat.

Aki is absolutely besotted with you and will do literally anything you ask. After all, you've given him so much—a home, love, a sense of peace. And that's just the big things; considering the small, everyday gestures of care like clean, folded handkerchiefs, warm ramen, and soothing baths, makes him feel like he owes you the world. You'd like your feet rubbed? Aki's on his knees with a bottle of lotion. You see a shirt you like in a store window? He's already rifling through his pockets for his wallet. You'd like to take a trip with him? Just tell him when and where, and he'll do whatever it takes to get the time off from work.

#chainsaw man/reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man headcanons #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki chainsaw man #hayakawa aki #aki hayakawa x you

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archangeldyke-all · 5 months

Note

do more simp sevvvvv im doing backflips for this

some more simp sevika hcs :D hope u like them!!!

men and minors dni

modern au simp sev drives you to and from work every day. even if u can drive. even if u have ur own car. she loves spending the time with u. loves picking u up with a treat in the cupholder waiting for you. absolutely melts at the goodbye kiss you press to her cheek in the mornings, and the hello kisses you press to her lips in the afternoons.

you buy yourself a necklace with a 's' pendant. you wear it to sevika's one night and she nearly collapses at the sight of you. she never lets you take it off again.

sometimes, when she's being particularly harsh with silco's goons, you'll get an 'sos' text from one of them, begging for you to come in and reign sevika in. if you do, you always melt at the way sevika's angry snarling face lights up into a soft smile at the sight of you. she'll be much calmer and kinder for the rest of the night with you tucked under her arm. (the boys thank you profusely when sevika's attention is elsewhere, giving you relieved looks and hard hand shakes of appreciation.)

modern au hc again: sevika downloads instagram and makes an account only to follow you. and a few funny animal accounts.

has her notifications on so every time you post she's the first comment.

comments insanely horny things you have to delete before your family can see them. "brb buying more lube..." or "just came in my pants." or "gonna make u cum til ur crying 2nite"

she writes you love letters sometimes. she thinks she's horrible with her words, worried that she doesn't let you know how much she loves you enough. its easier for her to figure out what to say when she's writing it all down, where she can scribble out stupid thoughts and re-write sentences until they sound romantic enough. and as sweet as her sappy poetic lines are, your favorite bits of the letters are the parts of crossed out sentences you can still make out.

you're the most beautiful person i've ever met. the first time i saw you i knew i wanted to make you cum was in love.

on your 1 year marriage anniversary, she gets a tattoo of your kiss print on her neck.

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika x you #soft sevika

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002yb · 6 months

Note

My heart???? I pove the amnesiac Jason being in love AGAIN with Dick. Please give us all your thoughts and Bruce and Tim and Damian and Alfred aaaaa

The trope of Jason having an undying crush on Dick Grayson is one that I'll shoehorn into every bit of anything I ever write, hahaha. I love it so much; it's so sweet. Thank you for following along with the secretary AU though. //u/// Here's some general thoughts for them:

Bruce

There are times Bruce has to do his job. Unfortunately, part of that job includes playing nice with his employees. A lot of people want to get in good with the CEO so that they'll be better favored for promotions. Rubbing elbows is part of corporate culture.

Only Jason doesn't give a fuck. Do you have an appointment? Of course they don't; Jason sure as hell didn't make one for them. Get outta here.

Just Jason being the most ornery secretary/assistant, an actual guard dog outside of Bruce's office.

Meanwhile Bruce just looking on from the glass panes separating them and being so smitten because look at his boy - small as he ever was and just as fierce as before. Viciousness being innately Jason and Bruce appreciating it in a way he hadn't before.

And when Jason finally shoos whatever bootlicker comes along, he sits back in his chair with a huff, before glancing at Bruce and smiling that ornery little smirk and Bruce loves him so damn much.

Unrelated: when Bruce can't stay on task, Jason moves himself to temporarily sit in Bruce's office with him. Just sitting across from Bruce at his desk and supervising because they've got deadlines, boss.

The above is a strategy Bruce employs to get Jason closer to him. It works up until Jason realizes what Bruce is doing, after which Jason withholds himself until Bruce does his job and Bruce is despondent over it, of course, but also a little humored and fond and affectionate because that's his boy.

Alfred

The way this man fishes for information on his grandbaby (Damian) being so next level. He laments to Jason about how he always wanted grandchildren, but... *sidelong glance to Bruce who straightens up in his office*

The joke being that Damian is actually Bruce's kid, only Jason still hasn't brought Damian around so they can't confirm anything.

Anyway, Jason shares pictures and Alfred adores them. Especially the ones that have both Jason and Damian in them.

And Alfred is a gentleman, a professional. He doesn't get cranky, only he does hahaha. Because he wants Jason home and he wants to meet his (great) grandbaby, Master Bruce. l<

Until they can sort that though, Alfred is very doting to Jason and Damian. He can't overstep, but when opportunity presents itself, Alfred offers up recipes that he knows Jason will like and that would be appropriate for a fussy child. He offers up little caretaking tips and tricks and bites back chortles when Jason jokes about trying them on Bruce.

Alfred startling when he gets a text from Jason one day asking for help with a sick child

And Alfred is halfway to the garage before he realizes how inappropriate that would be so he parks himself right beside the door just in case Jason requests him

Which he doesn't, which breaks Alfred's heart. But Jason does call and Alfred is able to talk Jason down and help him through whatever crisis Damian has brought on.

And later, Jason passing along a thank you card that Damian also contributed some baby scribbles to. Along with a little gift, a tea cup, that Damian helped pick out. Because they're really grateful and Alfred is composed about it until he gets back to the car and then he just holds this sweet note and gift and mourns how he wants his family back ahhhhhhhhhh

But Alfred is a strong person and bears the strain of it all and carries on.

It's his new favorite cup though ;U;

Dick

Dick uses the excuse of meeting Bruce and Tim for lunch all of once before he boldly asks Jason out

Bruce's jaw drops so fast. He's damn near tripping over every bit of furniture in his office and his own two feet, scrambling to the door where he falls dramatically against the frame with a lie that he needs Jason to fetch xyz thing from xyz area of WE

Once Jason is out of earshot, Bruce glowering so hard at Dick because don't lead their boy on; get those foul thoughts out of his head

And Dick just here without one impure thought in his head (yet) and being very l: because really, Bruce? Dick would never (only he will).

Anyway, Bruce cockblocking even the most innocent of interactions and Jason being a bit ._. about it because he's never so busy as when Dick turns up to say hi.

Just Dick surprising Jason at the office with drinks and food, little pick-me-ups. And here's the thing - Dick doesn't know Jason like Alfred does. He doesn't know Jason's favorites or things he doesn't. He's figuring it all out in the moment and he keeps making efforts and there's a level of guilt there for not doing this before, sure, but there's also enjoyment because it's Jason and ahhhhhh

When Dick brings by the pick-me-ups and leans against Jason's desk or pulls up a chair to sit across from him and loaf around for a few minutes, Bruce and Tim are just l: because really? Nothing for them?

And Dick laughs because, 'no, Jason's special.'

Which just slays Jason where he stands as he misinterprets Dick's (current) interests and intentions

Something something Dick picking Jason up after work on his bike. And both Bruce and Alfred send death glares Dick's way, but Dick just smiles that cheeky Robin smile at them before helping Jason up behind him and telling him to hold tight

Alfred relents with his petulance immediately if only because his boys look so happy; this is how it should have always been

Bruce, on the other hand, is getting into the car and telling Alfred to follow them immediately, don't lose sight of them! D<

Tim

Copy room meet-cute scenario. Where Tim is about to commit property damage because all the copiers keep jamming on him and he doesn't have the fucking time; he's got a meeting in x number of hours and he needs to prep all the materials and the interns aren't there to help because Tim didn't finish the reports until x o'clock and he's stressed and just got off of patrol he doesn't have time to fight and be bested by a fucking copier and-- 'here, let me help.'

It's Robin. Jason. It's Jason. And Tim feels Jason looks as heroic as he ever did back when the mantle was his to wear.

Jason doing the copying for Tim and brushing off the gratitude. 'I'd rather not explain to the boss that all our copiers were thrashed in the midst of someone's corporate rage ¬‿¬' before it settles on a shrugged, self-aware, 'you take over a lot of boss's work, so it makes sense that I help you, no?'

The stress leaving Tim slowly but surely as Jason and he work side by side to put together Tim's meeting presentation materials for all of the board members/xxxxxx department heads/etc.

Not much chatter, but at the end after Bruce turns up and causes a scene (because Jason is missing from his desk and 'where is he!?') Jason turns to Tim with a crooked smile and insists that if Tim needs help with anything, Jason's there.

And Tim is left there being all awestruck and a little flushed

Plenty of casual interactions after that. Just casual greetings in the morning. Teasing from Jason that disguises blatant check-ins to make sure Tim is good. Which he is. Tim's embarrassed about it, but he notices Bruce taking back some of the work he pushed off onto Tim and...it's better.

So much banter though as they get comfortable. And Tim still sees Robin, but he starts to see Jason more and he likes him a lot.

Tim going to see Bruce and Jason knowing Tim is cool, but tormenting him anyway with the whole 'you got an appt, sir?' shtick

Jason sneakily switching out coffee with water and snickering when he catches Tim grimacing, head snapping to look Jason's direction while Jason gives a cheeky wave

Tim being teased as the next Brucie because of the supposed 'flirtiness' of their interactions; it's a scandal waiting to happen, he's following in Bruce's footsteps, etc. etc.

Tim is embarrassed about the rumors that start to circulate. He doesn't even flinch when Bruce looms over him with a rough demand of, 'what are your intentions with Jason?' like Tim is doing anything uncouth, come on man

Whether because Tim is genuinely interested or he wants to mess with Bruce (in retaliation for the copious amount of work Bruce has passed on to him), Tim pointedly asking Jason out. Right outside of Bruce's office.

Damian

Weeks later, Bruce still creeps outside of Jason's apartment. He hates the neighborhood. Crime rates are too high and the apartment isn't up to code, but he hasn't figured how to tell Jason to move yet. Telling his boy to come home would be inappropriate, as would buying the property beside the manor for Jason to have. He'll figure something out, but before that--

A flutter of sheer curtains and movement in Jason's apartment.

Bruce being persistently curious about the child, Damian, but not having much information outside of passing commentary from Jason (but mostly shared stories from Alfred).

The child is always well-guarded. Regardless of how Tim has tried to get close, the tutors that are with Damian are always very alert. Which is...good. But not conducive to the answers Bruce wants.

Anyway, Bruce being a creep outside of Jason's apartment. Listening in on recently placed bugs and startling because Damian talks.

Apparently Damian has aspirations to be Batman. And Jason humors him even as he laughs under his breath because why.

And to sucker-punch Bruce in the throat, Damian makes a proclamation that wounds Bruce deeply: 'To protect you.'

Jason being all endeared and sweeping Damian up off the ground to hold on his hip and smacking his head with a kiss

'Why not Robin?'

There's a pause, but Damian is quick even at such a young age and proclaims, 'Because you will be my Robin.'

And Bruce just cries on the inside a bit because ouch.

What started as a Damian section became a Dickjay with a Damian cameo section. Truth be told, idk how hold Damian should be.

Where the first member of the batfam Damian meets is actually Dick

Jason invites Dick up after Dick brings him home one evening

And Dick is so happy to be welcomed into this private part of Jason's life - smug because Dick is the first of them to be welcomed and this is an enormous step up from always being the last to know anything

Jason switching off with the tutor (LoA assassin lol) and the assassin and Dick eyeing each other up as they pass one another by because they both sense something's off about one another, just not what

Anyway, Jason locks up (extensive; perfect for the neighborhood, but also hopeful of all that Robin training having lingered in the back of Jason's head) then excuses himself to check that Damian was put to bed properly

Dick taking the opportunity to look around and being so enamored with every detail. There aren't many personal belongings, but there's enough. Used books and well-loved art supplies; second-hand furniture and a half-knitted blanket. There are drawings posted up on the fridge that Dick looks over fondly: depictions of Damian and Jason and few others that make up his family (which spoilers is gonna include Dick once Damian and Dick come to an understanding about Jason)

Anyway, Jason is so proud of Damian's artistic endeavors - a new hobby that Jason encouraged because Damian is otherwise so serious and morose for such a little guy. And Jason's smile when he talks about it, fuck. It's devastating. Dick could listen to Jason talk about this forever - he would love that.

Instead they talk about other things while they have a nightcap. They keep their voices low. Hushed so they don't disturb Damian in the next room.

By this point Dick would be well aware that Jason is still a sassy, ornery little menace firecracker, but it's still a joy to experience it. To trade quips, to banter. Keeping up with Jason's wit and playing a playful game of who has the sharper tongue.

It's them curled on either end of a stubby, narrow couch. Where Jason reaches out his sock-clad foot to shove at Dick's leg and Dick catches him and squeezes and holds on, a mindfully mindless point of contact - tentatively intimate.

And Dick isn't aware of how intimate the moment is - how captivated he is by Jason until suddenly a kid comes between them, face pinched as they click their tongue (and oh, that's a habit of Jason's, isn't it? Cute), taking Dick's hand in the tiniest of grips and forcibly removing Dick from Jason

Then Damian buries himself in Jason's chest before peeking back to glare at Dick. The declaration is clear as anything: he's mine

Jason introduces him, but Damian having none of it because Jason's attention being on another man? In their home? Unforgivable.

Jason being flummoxed because what? He's allowed to have friends, Damian.

No.

Dick smiles at that. He might understand that desire to be possessive.

Introductions made, but Damian being very grumpy

Child rearing difficulties for Jason with setting boundaries and getting Damian to bed because he wants to spend time with Dick, but Damian doesn't want to share

And Dick wants more of Jason. Of course he does, but he's not going to put Jason in a position to pick. Never. So he calls it a night so that Jason can take care of Damian. That besides, it's late. They should both turn in.

Jason grumbling and being a little petulant about it as he sees Dick out at the door, Damian nestled in his arms and resting on his hip, arms wrapped tight around Jason's neck. But really? He'd stay up all night. It's been nice.

Their parting being all sorts of electric although there's nothing more than lingering gazes and slow pull aways and second looks over shoulders only to catch one another still there and sheepish, giddy titters ahhhhhh

Jason resting his back against the closed door while Dick sort of bounces down the hall, invigorated and happy and excited for next time

Next time being: just an hour later when Jason texts to see if Dick made it home safely

They proceed to text through the night and come the following day when Jason looks exhausted? Bruce is concerned. When Dick comes in later with Jason's choice caffeine, looking just as tired? Bruce quickly switches to paranoid because what's happening and why and how does he stop it? l:

Still waffling with how Damian should be, hence his section being a little scarce/vague. It'll get there!

#dickjay #jaydick #brujay #timjay #secretary au

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larvaem1lk · 1 year

Text

cookie stand

ellie williams x fem reader <3

🦋 hellooo, this is my first time publishing a fic to tumblr! i’m like really nervous and scared and !!!!!! i wrote this in mid march which was one of my first times writing for the lovely & beautiful ellie, so please forgive me if she’s kind of like. not characterized well. i hope there aren’t any errors & pls forgive my overuse of the words ‘pretty’ and ‘CDs’… i’ve been holding this one out for tooooo long so. please enjoy

🦋 warnings: none really :) there’s cursing and my… no so good writing though… overall this is just cute and ellie is like so nervous because why are u such an angelic being!?!?

other than that, please enjoy & thank u to anyone who reads!! :-* i hope u like it or at least someone out there does. feedback is so appreciated, promise my fics from here will be better <3

It was your scent that first consumed her mind full of wonder… the unfamiliar sweetness filling her nose and leaving her woozy. She didn’t know what it was, or who it was. She just assumed the pretty flowers were emitting nectar to attract insects that she just so smelled, too.

The sky was sunny; the weather was warm, and it was near the middle of spring. Obviously, the blooming flowers would make the most sense. Though she was wrong.

She wasn’t aware of the pretty girl a couple of feet away standing at the cookie stand. She didn’t notice the swarming bundles of children and parents that crowded the tiny baby pink stand, eager to try the sweets. In fact, she wasn’t paying attention to anything else around her.

No, Ellie was only here because Dina said there was supposed to be some guy selling CDs of Ellie’s favorite band that disbanded years ago. She could barely locate any of their music, so this was her only opportunity. Sure, she had the internet, and different media platforms, but that same Dina had bought a boombox for whatever reason and didn’t want it to collect dust.

So here Ellie sat on a bench, sketchbook in her lap, while she drew random doodles of things around the park near her college—squirrels, butterflies, and dog poop. Or she would scribble random thoughts down, like, “Where are my CDs????” and “Why do dogs squat like that to shit.”

She looked up every few minutes for a sketchy man with a duffel bag, or whoever she thought would have potentially had the stash of CDs.

Yet out of all of the people that walked through, nobody matched the appearance. Maybe she missed them? Was it possible that a group of grannies carried CDs of a long-forgotten band? Or the young moms pushing strollers? She was giving up hope. She almost felt like she had just gotten played.

It wasn’t until she heard your lighthearted giggle in the distance that stopped Ellie from packing up. She looked at the entrance. Nobody. She looked to her right. There you were. A huge smile was on display and your eyes were a bit crinkled. You were squatting to talk with the… many children that surrounded you.

There was confusion at first, her eyebrows pinching inward as she watched you. Were you some type of… teacher? Caregiver? Wait, no. She didn’t even notice the baby pink stand behind you. It looked kind of cute. She squinted, and saw a pear-green sign that read, “HOMEMADE cookies!! $2.50 each… + random FREE CDs! :)”

Hold the fuck on. Random “FREE” CDs? This might just be where she finds the discography of her favorite band. But it was weird, a cookie stand selling random CDs? hell, she didn’t even care at this point. She’s been in need of some music to jam out to while she drew. Plus, she was interested in learning a few on the guitar just for herself.

Without a second thought, Ellie was stuffing her materials into her bag and throwing it over her shoulder as she stomped over to where your stand was. There was a bit of a line between children and parents. She was disappointed to be all the way in the back, but it would be worth it once she got what she was looking for.

Though it wasn’t a guarantee that you’d have what she wanted. She had been to so many music stores, even searching sketchy websites. Everyone told her the band never existed or we haven’t had them in our catalog for years, so how would you be any different? The small bit of hope was starting to fade again, but, she couldn’t say no to a cookie. Plus, you were pretty.

In the meantime, Ellie stood, waiting. She watched insects in the grass, watched people walking, but she was mostly watching you, from the way your eyes crinkle when you smiled too hard or how caring you were towards the children.

The spring sun was shining over your body, your skin glowing under the soft beams. You had such a pretty smile, and your lips looked so soft. They were shiny with gloss and Ellie wet her own with her tongue at the thought of feeling your lips on hers.

You stood behind the stand, talking and laughing with what seemed to be a guy with his younger sibling. You two seemed to be catching up, as the conversation went on for a good 5 minutes. Or maybe he was flirting. Hopefully not.

Ellie laughed when she heard a kid whine about how badly they had to pee and how long the cookie girl was taking, and Ellie silently agreed. The cookie girl was holding everyone up.

Ellie stood in line for a good 10 minutes before she was behind one more parent-kid duo towards the front. She had watched as kids walked away with large chocolate chip cookies while parents reminisced about CDs from their prime.

She watched as you talked to the child and practically made friends with their mom. But then she was next up as she saw the duo disappear.

This is it. Just do it.

With shaky legs, and a quiet exhale, she took a step closer to the stand, and damn, you were even prettier up close. Your eyes were so pretty under the sunlight and and your face was just—pretty. Ellie felt her mouth dry at the sight.

But why at that moment did a breeze have to blow by? That’s when the dangerous smell of sweetness filled her nose again, and she realized she had been mistaken before. Those weren’t flowers, it was you. You were the one with the dreamy aroma engulfing her in your essence. Now that she was closer to you, it was stronger than before.

Lost in your eyes, she didn’t catch the way your mouth moved in a greeting. And the way you smelled wasn’t helping either. Those same eyes filled with kindness were now glazed over with confusion, and it hit Ellie that you were waiting for her response. She blinked and glanced over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was behind her, sighing in relief when she saw no one.

You spoke up again, tilting your head with concern as your expression. “You okay?” You asked and fuck, your voice. It surprised her that she was still standing with how weak her knees felt.

Ellie cleared her throat and nodded, sniffling out of anxiousness but all that did was nearly slip her back into the clouds again. “Yeah, I’m good. I, Sorry, I just—totally blanked out there,”

She was relieved to see you smile in response. She hoped you didn’t think she was weird for staring at you like that, but how could she not when you looked like… you?

Your gaze lingered on Ellie’s face for a little while, taking in the sparkle of her green eyes and the freckles that decorated her cheeks. Under the brightness of the sun, there was a subtle sheen to her auburn-colored hair. You couldn’t lie. She was pretty. Really pretty. You noticed her drawing by a tree not too long ago when you came to set up your stand.

Ellie felt herself get a little warm at the way you were looking at her. Or maybe that was the weather. The forecast said 60, but it felt more like 80.

You looked down at the table and motioned toward two pink plates of large chocolate chip cookies. “How many would you like?” You clasped your hands together before placing them behind your back.

You were so sweet. So nice. The first thing she had done and couldn’t stop doing was stare at you, yet all you did was smile and ask her how many cookies she wanted. You were a dream.

Ellie’s eyes flickered down to the table in front of you to admire the cookies for a second. They were large, perfectly round, and she didn’t want to seem dumb for thinking this, but the chips seemed to be placed perfectly, too. Of course. With everything balanced, they almost looked damn near store-bought. “Are these really homemade?” She looked up with her eyebrows raised and you nodded.

“Yep! You know these were almost a failed batch, but I fixed them last minute. I was so pissed, but the people love ‘em, so I ain’t too mad about it.” You shrugged and Ellie smiled. She loved hearing you talk.

She pulled her lips to the side and fiddled with her fingers before speaking, “Well, I’d love to have one. How much are they?” You leaned forward to tap the pear green sign with your nail. Ellie instantly felt dumb as she read the large bubble letters, $2.50 each…

She mentally face palmed herself. “Oh… yeah, that’s right. Sorry. Again.” You laugh as she digs into her bag to bring out three crumpled sheets of green. “Can never keep track of coins,” her words were in a whisper as she handed you the dollar bills.

She watched your every movement, somehow finding everything you did fascinating. You were like some ethereal being that she’d come across, entrancing her with your mesmerizing aura. She had seen plenty of girls before, able to woo them with her charm and exude such a confidence with ease. But what was it with you?

You folded the dollar bills toward you before sliding them into your pocketbook that sat on top of a large bin beside you. Inside were rows of colorful CDs and Ellie’s eyes lingered there for a moment as she remembered what she was actually there for. Gotta stay on track.

You grabbed a pear-colored napkin from the pile that sat beside the cookies, and Ellie noticed the matching with the the sign. You handed it to her with the cookie inside, and when Ellie took a bite she almost passed out.

“Wait, whoa, holy shit…” her words muffled as she chewed. You couldn’t read her expression, but her brows pinched inward, and you weren’t sure if the taste surprised her or… if it was bad. Dammit, this batch. Maybe she had gotten a particularly bad cookie out of the hundred you hadn’t sold yet.

“Do you like it?” You squinted with a bit of hesitancy, feeling nervous. Her eyes shot up to you from the cookie immediately. “What do you mean? I love this. This is so fucking good! And you’re telling me these were almost a failed batch?”

You smile at her reaction. “Oh my gosh, thank you! I’m glad you like it. Do you want a CD?”

Ellie stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth and chewed a little before stuffing the napkin in her pocket. She swallowed hard before nodding. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’s actually what I was here for, but I don’t regret that cookie.”

Ellie felt her heart skip a beat when she heard you giggle. “Well, who are you looking for? I have pretty much everything… I think… I dunno. My gramma was just an insane diehard music fanatic, and I thought it’d be nice to let people have a little bit of that too. You know? But, now that I think about it these aren’t really ‘random’? All the artists are pretty well known and I sorted them into different genres so—what would you like?”

Ellie watched as you sighed afterwards, and she could tell you felt a little embarrassed because of your rambling. But she thought it was cute with the way you moved your hands and how you looked up to the left when you got sucked into your thoughts.

“Hm, let’s see if the cookie girl has what I’m looking for.” You smile at the name “cookie girl” and Ellie cringed once the name of the band came out of her mouth in fear that you would say the same thing everyone else did. And she was tired of searching.

But when your face lit up, she almost felt confused because she had never received that reaction before. She was more familiar with confused or sympathetic expressions.

“Are you serious? I definitely have them. I swear my grandma talked about them all the time before she passed.” You turned to the large bin and rummaged around. “You want their EP or—“

“Yes! Yes. Yeah. Gimme everything you got of ‘em. Please.”

You smiled before you were quick to search for what she wanted. Ellie studied your every movements in anticipation as your fingers walked over the tops of various CD cases. But once you stopped, she felt a sense of relief. Finally.

You pulled out CD after CD, almost dropping some when you turned to the table. You cautiously set them down and Ellie grabbed one to examine the cover.

“Oh man… holy fuck! This is really them…” she whispered while turning over the CD to look at the backside. She read the different titles of the band’s songs and looked over the faces of each member in the picture.

You take in how excited she is as she looks through the disks and stuffed each one into her bag. She looked cute. There was a sparkle in her eyes as you watched her look over the last one.

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for them? Literally, nobody had their stuff for shit.” She looks up at you to be met with your beautiful smile. She almost got lost in your eyes again, and as a breeze just so flowed by, your scent mesmerized her once more.

You say something that Ellie doesn’t catch, but you say something again as a question and she has to force herself to blink to come out of her daze.

“Sorry—uh, what’d you say?” she squints, feeling a little flustered.

You blow a laugh through your nose. “I was just saying that I hope you have fun with your CDs. I’m gonna be packing up soon, so are you sure that’s all you want?”

Ellie frowned a little. “Oh, yeah, I’m good. I got what I was looking for… thanks to you. Really, thank you.”

You smile that beautiful smile of yours and nod. You turn away to rummage around in a larger bag and Ellie watches as you do. She’s not sure if she should say bye or if she should just walk away. She found the CDs, finally, but she had also come across another find, you.

The more she talked to you, the more she wanted to get to know you. She wanted to see that gorgeous smile all the time and look into your pretty eyes whenever she wanted to. She wanted to play songs for you on her guitar while you baked more cookies and she wanted to draw pictures of you and things you liked. The two of you didn’t even have to jump right into romance. She just wanted to be your friend and be around you all the time.

“Hey, um… do you—you go to the college right?” Ellie didn’t even notice when the words spilled out of her mouth, but it was enough to make you stop and look at her. She absentmindedly clutched the strap of her bag as she waited for your reply.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. Ellie nodded and just stood there, wanting more words to tumble out of her mouth but she was worried she’d fuck up and say the wrong thing. Which is why she slid her bag off her shoulder halfway to dig inside. She opened up her sketchbook and ripped a corner piece of paper out before rummaging around for some type of pencil.

You watched as she leaned over the table and scribbled something down in a rush that you couldn’t quite decipher. When she was done, she scanned over it and handed you the paper. Her face was a light pink as she did so and it confused you as you took the paper from her.

When you looked down, there were some words along with what you think was a number that read, “thanks for the cookie n CDs…. call me sometime? - ellie w.”

You smiled like a schoolgirl and went to say something to her, but she had already left. You looked around the park before you to spot the girl with auburn hair and green eyes with the freckles but unfortunately had spotted no one. Though at least now you knew what you would do as soon as you got to your dorm.

You would call Ellie.

#im so sorry if this is boring im like legit. stressed out bc of what ppl will think!!!!!!#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader fluff

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riddler-green · 1 year

Note

Could I request a riddler/ reader w/ a reader who likes to draw him pls 🙏🙏 like as a gift or even just keeps and he finds them in their studio and realises his face is littered along their portfolio like a thoughtfully crafted tapestry and testament of their love or something corny like that I love the idea of a reader who’s just awe strikingly in love and him the same it’s so sweet WAAA but u can do whatever w/ the idea of artist/riddler ur so cool Ty <333

Mi musa.

Summary: you are an artist with your own habits but you never forget who your true muse is.

A/N: hey hiii! it's me again! thanks so much for the request! I really appreciate it! and I hope you enjoy it, I love that Riddler/ artist concept too!1 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚

Warning: possessiveness on the part of both, fluff!

Words: 1500.

Art can be a means to convey what you want to say when you don't have the words to get them out of your mouth, you have never proclaimed yourself as the best artist in the world, but for as long as you can remember others have recognized your talent, you are grateful for the compliments of others who find charm in your work when you only find things to improve.

Perfectionism is something that tortures you when you look at your own work, you know there are things to improve but somehow when you draw the man of your dreams it's the opposite. Sometimes they tend to be simple doodles on yellow post-its, sometimes you draw portraits worthy of hanging in renowned museums, when it comes to Edward, you always find solace. A calmness in painting is like a therapeutic remedy.

Edward couldn't stand the itch in his nose, he had to sneeze covering his nose with his shoulder, you stopped painting and looked at the palette in your hand "Sorry" Edward apologizes in a low voice but you can hear him, you move away from the canvas to look at him "No need to be completely still my love, it's okay" you inform him mixing different shades of brown to paint his hair.

Edward kept as still as possible even though he is only sitting on a chair with a dark blue background, he couldn't help but think that when he poses for you it reminds him of an ancient king asking his star painter to do a portrait of him to show his greatness and power. But he knows he is not a king, he is still a little incredulous how someone like him managed to date someone like you, someone who looks at him with so much admiration, so much love that lasts for hours, even when you are out of your studio and he is at his most unfavorable moments you still look at him with great esteem.

"I think I will have to add more red to your cheeks, they are too red" you joke behind the canvas, Edward laughs at the comment, maybe in the past he would have refused to even have his picture taken, as he didn't like the way he looked, but now, he poses in front of you naturally as it is not the first time you paint him.

He doesn't mind that your studio is full of paintings, sheets full of drawings of him, he found it beautiful and wonderful, he started to love himself with your paintings, he sees the beauty that you see in him "Some day you should draw yourself too" says Edward calmly looking everywhere in the studio without turning his head.

"I don't know, self-portraits are hard to do" you reply placing a brush in your mouth as you use a palette knife on the canvas "Although it's not impossible either".

Edward remains satisfied with the answer and is silent again, he feels so excited with the result of the painting, you always make it a masterpiece at the end in his opinion. He scribbled sometimes on his accounting sheets and on his crossword puzzle, he drew question marks, and sometimes he drew you, or well, a caricature version of you, when he showed it to you, you cried, without you knowing you already started sobbing, it's different when they draw you.

Edward catches a glimpse of a rather large picture with all the drawings he has given you as a gesture of love, all the drawings placed as a big collage and protected by glass, under the picture, there was a signature "Eddie's Drawings".

His cheeks ache for he adores that you appreciate him too, it never crossed your mind to judge his drawing skills, you always received the little pen doodles with love "I'm almost done" you speak to him and he makes a happy humming sound, for you, you could be posing for days if you wanted to.

Again he thinks again, deep in his heart he loves it when you proclaim that he is your only muse, not Bruce Wayne, not another rich guy who pays for your paintings, Edward Nashton of KMTJ brings out your creativity to make paintings non-stop.

"I hope it comes out well in this painting," he says and you switch brushes "You always come out beautiful Eddie" you assure him as if it's a no-brainer.

Edward stretches his legs a little when he notices you are putting down all the brushes "More than the plain Mona?" you laugh at his question "More than the plain monkey" you reply and call him over to come to see the painting.

"wow" is the first thing he says when he sees it is him with various mixtures of paints that make it look great, he stays a few minutes fascinated with the work while you finish putting away all the paints and utensils.

"Do you want to take it home?" you ask taking off your Machado apron of various paint textures and Edward nods his head buzzing with delight as he takes your hand.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

"Is it a cow?" you ask looking at the paper in front of you, when they came in from your study day Edward wanted to show you a drawing he did on his break from work "It's a dog" Edward clarifies pointing to the somewhat deformed figure of the dog "it's you and me and the dog we saw in the park" he explains his drawing as you look happily at the drawing, so proud of him.

"It's so cute!" you squeal with happiness placing the drawing on one of the walls of the room "I think I'll put it in my next collection" you speak to him lovingly as the two of you embrace, Gotham nights are usually cold, but when you're next to Eddie it seems like the whole apartment becomes warm.

"I would like you to attend my next Exhibition will you go, right?" the two of you look at each other face to face Edward keeps his eyes closed completely in love with the position they are in "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The presenter looked at you with respect, he was sitting next to you with several question cards waiting for the program to start, all the time your facial expression was serious.

When the program started the presenter began with a charismatic talk about your works "So, tell us, who is that man who is always in your paintings?" he let out the question with a curious tone the cameramen pointed to your face looking for a surprised expression from you, instead you answered naturally.

"He is my partner, Edward, we have been together for several years and I always fell in love with his way of being" you start talking with a formal tone "When I see something I love, I want to capture it in my paintings so it can be immortalized" you settle back in your seat placing your elbows on armrests.

"Before I was looking for perfection in my art, but now I achieved it without realizing it" the presenter remains static before your speech "perfection is when I look at the effort I put in each work and that it was worth it" you look at the camera in front of you "sometimes art can hurt us, but I decided to be happy painting the love of my life".

The presenter you forgot his name gave a few admiring claps as you took a sip of water. God, you just hope Edward watches the show.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The man in clear glasses leapt towards you to hug you both standing outside the program set, the stoic countenance disappeared when you noticed your boyfriend, he squealed with joy for the program "God, how I love you!" he proclaims and before you could respond he kisses you on the lips, you close your eyes to enjoy the moment.

"Me too Eddie" you reply kissing him again, you remember hearing about Edward's past, you wish the people who hurt your muse would suffer the consequences of their actions.

"I think I have inspiration for another painting, but this time I need to buy a darker green" you comment smiling at him, Edward gets excited "what kind of green?".

"Mmmm" you pretended to think making a thoughtful sound "What color is the Riddler mask?".

Edward almost choked on his own saliva, in a few times you have painted him as the Riddler and that makes him get more excited "I um, I think, I can tell which gree-en it is" he stutters nervously.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

There were nights when Edward tried to draw you with canvas, and you happily posed while Edward mixed different tones that you could easily make a rainbow vomit, still, it was a dream for you to see him like that, you swear he looks so cool behind the canvas, you seriously consider buying him a beret to match his beautiful eyes.

When Edward finished he proudly showed you the artwork, someone else would say it was a perfect Picasso with the drawings barely repeatable but for you, it was the masterpiece of the century.

Thank you very much for reading! And sorry for the mistakes!

#paul dano x reader #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #requesthermosoprecioso!

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tyrant-tales · 2 months

Note

Hiii Can u do lee!gaming? If u can pls and no rush... teehee

A/N: Hi! Thank you for the request! To explain the odd pairing, I let a wheel pick from all the genshin characters and it chose venti, so yeahh. Anywaysss I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.3k

Lee: Gaming (kind of venti and Kaeya too)

Ler: Venti (kind of diluc and kaeya as well!)

Prompt: Loosen up!

♡~~~♡~~~♡

Gaming walked through the unfamiliar hills and paths, wondering why he had accepted this delivery. Apparently, Xiangling had to send a food package to someone named Kaeya in Mondstadt.

At least he gets to visit a new place, right? Plus, Mondstadt seemed like a cool nation! Except… for the mass amounts of hilichurl camps.

Gaming stopped in his tracks, then ran behind a tree when he heard the voice, "Hey now! Look ihi- I'll gihive it back juhust please!"

"Maybe you should've thought about this before you stole the bottle," another person said.

Gaming peaked out behind the tree to see two people, one shorter girl - is that a girl? - holding a wine bottle, and a taller man with red hair holding the person in place, trying to retrieve the bottle.

"Um, excuse me?" Gaming questioned, finally walking into view, "I'm looking for somebody who is supposed to be living here?"

The man with red hair spoke first, glaring at the shorter person, "Who are you looking for? They may be here."

The shorter one seemed to be slightly red in the face, pulling their arm free from the redhead.

"Um… his name is Kaeya-"

"Dammit. I know him, unfortunately," the man said, cursing under his breath.

"Oh, perfect! Is he available right now?"

"Maybe. First, who are you? And why do you need to see Kaeya?" He stepped forward, seemingly threatening Gaming.

"Oh! Okay, um, I am Gaming, a delivery guard from Liyue. I am here to deliver a food package from Ms. Xiangling," He feigned confidence, "Who are you, may I ask?"

"I am Diluc, the owner of this winery. This right here is Venti. I wouldn't pay him much mind, he's just a pain," Diluc said, "The person you're looking for is my…ugh… brother."

"Okay! So… Do you want me to leave it out here or-?" He began. It seemed Diluc noticed Venti slipping away.

"Venti, get back here with that bottle!" He yelled.

Venti stopped and turned, "Make me!"

"Why you little-" Diluc started, running after Venti. He quickly caught him and dragged him back to the winery. Gaming could've sworn he saw him squeeze ventis ribs a couple times.

"You brat," Diluc mumbled, "Anyways, he just went out to get something from the city. Would you like to stay for a drink?"

"Oh, I don't drink, I'm sorry!" Gaming rushed.

"Me either, don't worry."

Venti scoffed, "You both have never experienced true happiness before!"

"Says the drunken bard," Diluc scowled, "Anyways, I have things other than wine if you want a drink, Kaeya won't be back for a bit and I don't trust this bard around anything."

"I appreciated the offer but- oh nevermind. I guess knowing a few people in Mondstadt won't be a bad thing."

"Come with me," the redhead walked off, dragging the bard along with him. Gaming followed closely behind.

The three walked in almost silence. Venti was complaining the entire way. Every time he said something, Diluc would just squeeze his ribs and he'd shut up. Gaming flushed slightly everytime it happened, which was a lot.

Finally, they'd arrived in a dining roomish area.

"My apologies for the long walk. Can I get you anything to drink?" He asked.

Gaming smiled brightly, "No, thank you!"

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. Thank you for the offer though!"

Venti appeared behind Gaming, "Y'know, you don't have to be so uptight. You can relax a bit," he grinned, scribbling into Gaming's neck.

"AH!" He yelped, attempting to turn and face the drunkard. Said person had stars in his eyes.

Diluc stepped between the two, glaring at Venti, "Don't be mean. Just because you like it doesn't mean everyone else does."

"You don't have room to talk! Kaeya is very honest when hes drunk, you know that right? He tells me everything about your childhood!"

The taller flinched at the memories, frowning at him, "Kaeya doesn't always tell the truth."

"What's that about the truth?" A new person walked into the room. He had dark blue hair and an eyepatch.

"Ah, Kaeya. How kind of you to join us," Ventil beamed, "Could you tell me, did Diluc like being ti-"

"Shut up!"

Gaming stood awkwardly as the three argued for a minute. He was about to just set the package down and leave when Kaeya noticed him.

"Oh hello there! Who are you?" He smiled warmly.

"I am Gaming, I'm here with a package from Xiangling." He said, holding out the tiny brown box.

"Oh! Well then, thank you for going through the trouble of coming here. Here is compensation," the man tried to hand him mora, but Gaming retracted his hands.

"No need, really! Just being able to come here was enough!"

Venti snuck up behind Gaming again, this time grabbing his sides and squeezing, "You really need to lighten up!"

The youngest laughed and squirmed slightly, trying to avoid hurting anybody. Diluc looked furious, but seeing Gaming showing no signs of discomfort, he let the antics continue.

The brunette finally got to face the bard and immediately sunk to the ground. His attacker followed him easily, pushing him to the ground fully and targeting his stomach. Gaming shrieked and fell into cackles.

Kaeya chuckled and knelt down next to the two, joining Venti in wrecking the younger. He went after his ribs, to which he arched his back slightly and kicked out his legs.

"Wow, you're worse than Diluc is! Shocking…" Kaeya teased, looking back at his now flustered brother.

"Why ahare yohou dohoing thihis?" Gaming wriggled, but making no attempt to actually get away.

Venti giggled innocently, "Because you were being too uptight! It's okay to relax for once."

"Too bad Diluc is over there pouting, he'd really show you how to relax!" Kaeya remarked, obviously to provoke his brother.

Diluc walked over slowly, then grabbed Kaeya and brought him to the ground, "I'll show you how to shut up!" He yelled before sticking his hands under Kaeyas coat to tickle his ribs.

Venti stared, not relenting his own attack, "And they say I'm childish! They fight like this everyday and I'm the childish one? I'm older than both of them!"

"Whahat? Yohou lohohook lihike yohou ahare 17!" He squeaked when the bard shot his hands into the youngers underarms. Loud belly laughter came out after that.

"Oh believe me, I'm much older than 17."

Gaming didn't respond. He just lied on the ground, taking the tickles like a champ (Not really, but he was doing better than most would).

Venti got bored quickly, so he changed tactics. He began to jump around different spots, only lingering for a couple seconds, just to keep Gaming on his toes.

Only a couple minutes later did venti take a break, slightly out of concern for Kaeya. Diluc had not given him a break and was ruthlessly digging into Kaeya worst spot.

Diluc seemed to notice the staring, "He's fine. If he tells you so much about our childhood, he should've told you about all the fights he lost."

Venti nodded before turning to his own victim, "Are you still comfortable? I can let you go if you want."

Gaming took one more deep breath, "You um… you can keep going if you want…" He blurted out before covering his face with his hands.

"Will do! Now… where to go…" Venti pondered for a moment, "Aha! How about… here!" He skittered his fingers across Gaming's shoulder and neck, absolutely loving the response. Gaming snorted and squeaked in between giggles, hiding his face as if his life depended on it.

Venti cooed silently, not wanting to ruin the fun by embarrassing the kid. He let it continue for a couple minutes before stopping, noticing the youngers breathing go a bit wonky.

"You okay?"

"Yeheah, I'm fihine," Gaming propped himself on his elbows to meet Ventis eyes, "Thank you."

"Hm?"

"I needed a laugh, so thank you!" He repeated.

"Oh, yes, of course!" The bard glanced out the window, noticing the darkness, "I'll help you get home, since it is so late. Tell Zhongli hello for me!"

Gaming's wind glider seemed to go a bit faster that night.

And yes, he did say hi to Zhongli for Venti.

#genshin impact #tickle content #lee!venti #ler!venti #lee!Kaeya #ler!Kaeya #lee!gaming #ler!diluc #like no one cares #but yknow

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melwilson · 2 years

Text

happiest of birthdays to you

steve rogers x teen!avenger reader

warnings! none (unless you count age gap a warning…i feel like that goes unsaid w our fave super soldiers tho)

a/n! a little birthday fic in honor of the one an only stevie grant. hope u love :)

“there you are.”

your voice is soft as you approach the blonde super-soldier. the freshly cut grass is soft and thick, a cushion below you as you sit down.

steve offers you a small smile. he looks tired, worn from celebrating his birthday and america’s freedom. tony went all in. every inch of the compound was covered in red, white, and blue. steve was grateful, but he was overwhelmed and sneaked off to get some air about two hours in. “hey, you okay?”

you nod, nudging your shoulder with his. even when everyone is celebrating him, he can’t stop worrying about you. “i’m good, i promise. i wanted to give you your gift.”

the blonde sends you a pointed look. “i told you not to get me anything…but i guess you’ve never been one for following orders.”

“what do you want for your birthday, big guy?”

steve swears that he hates when you call him that, but secretly he loves it. only from you though. “nothing, sweetheart. you being here is enough for me.”

you scoff in shock. “low blow, rogers.” you both knew he was right. “anyways, do you want my gift or not?” he uses his left hand to tug you close and his right hand to take the long box you’ve extended to him. there’s a handwritten note taped loosely to the top. “read the card first,” you say eagerly. steve chuckles at your excitement.

he can feel your stare as he reads your small scribbles.

happy birthday, big guy. i know you said no gifts, but you know that i can’t help myself. i appreciate you more than you will ever know and more than i will ever be able to express. this gift represents a fraction of that appreciation. thank you for giving me new life and loving me whole. happiest of birthdays to you, stevie. love you always <3

“this card would’ve been more than enough, y/n. thank you.” the blonde presses a kiss to your temple.

“don’t thank me yet,” you reply. “open it.”

he doesn’t waste any time and tears open the wrapping paper. he freezes when he sees the logo. “an apple watch?”

“you actually know what this is?”

steve ignores your joke. “y/n. seriously?”

you nod with a shy smile. steve admires how in your youth, you’ve kept your kind spirit and beautiful smile. it’s why he loves being around you. “i overheard you talking with sam and mention that you were looking for something like an apple watch that wasn’t as expensive. so…i just got you the apple watch and told sam to keep you from buying something else. do you like it?”

he gently removes it from the box and puts it around his wrist. he sends you the biggest grin and mutters, “sweetheart, i love it. c’mere.” you willingly fall into his open arms, your hands spanning across the small of his back. he sucks in a deep breath taking in the feeling of your small body against his. “thank you.”

you squeeze him tight. “you’re welcome and happy birthday again. you’re getting pretty old.”

he scoffs with a smile on his face. “respect your elders, kid.”

“only old people say that, big guy.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers birthday #chris evans #chris evans x reader

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cutiejihyo · 11 months

Note

can u do jihyo regressing after trying to put it off for a while (cause they were busy and she was stressed) so when she's small she just feels bad. so the rest of the girls but especially 2yeon help her relax and feel better?? thanks!!

-that one sanayeon anon :)) (im actually jihyo biased so idk how that was my first request lsdjflksd)

bother

— cg!2yeon / twice + little!jihyo

— cw // crying

words - 559

it wasn’t uncommon for jihyo to put off regressing until it was too much for her to handle. she had a busy schedule, and barely any time to regress properly. this usually resulted in stress building up so much to where she can’t even sleep. because of this, she feels bad regressing. she doesn’t want to bother any of the other members for her own problems, since she’s the leader after all.

one morning, on one of her free days, she woke up feeling small. she already started to feel like a burden, deciding to stay in her bedroom and not bother the other members. she got out paper and markers, scribbling to her heart’s content.

she couldn’t relax no matter what, and soon she found herself crying while she was coloring. her tears fell onto the paper, making her cry even more. she threw the markers and shoved her face into her pillow, sobbing until she heard the door open.

“what’s wrong jihyo?? i heard you crying from all the way in the kitchen” she immediately recognized the voice to be nayeon’s. “mommy..” jihyo kept her face shoved in the pillow, feeling bad about crying so loudly. nayeon sat down next to her, patting her back, “are you feeling little today?” she asked endearingly.

jihyo brought her head up, nodding and refusing to look nayeon in the eyes. nayeon grinned, bringing the regressed girl into a hug, “never be ashamed to regress, it’s completely natural. you can always come to me, or any of the members when you need some extra attention. we will be happy to give it to you.”

she held onto jihyo for a few extra minutes before eventually pulling away. “ ‘m think i wan’ extra love” jihyo asked shyly, she felt embarrassed as the leader asking for attention. “you can have all the love in the world sweetheart.” nayeon picked her up and spun her around, making the little laugh a bit.

she carried jihyo out into the living room, where jeongyeon, momo, mina, and dahyun were, and made sure everyone in the room’s attention was on her and the little in her arms. “jihyo would like everyone to know that she wants some extra attention today” nayeon announced with a smile, with jihyo burying her face into the older girl’s shoulder due to shyness.

immediately, jeongyeon got up from the couch and went over to the leader that was in nayeon’s arms. she took jihyo from the oldest member and planted her on her hip. “i missed you sweetpea, i heard you want some extra attention?” jeongyeon said with a soft voice, rubbing jihyo’s back. the regressed girl nodded, melting into jeongyeon’s embrace.

momo chimed in, “do you want snacks? mina and i can get you your favorites” jihyo nodded enthusiastically, she was finally starting to feel her stress melt away. dahyun also decided to get out all the blankets and pillows and make the couch extra comfy for jihyo.

—

the little hasn’t received so much attention in a while. the other members were cuddling with her, praising her, and all sorts of other things to make her feel loved.

they wanted to let her know that they appreciate everything she does for her, and what better way than to give the little leader an amazing experience while regressed.

#gigi writes 🦝#kpop agere #sfw agere #agere #age regression #twice agere #twice #little jihyo #jihyo

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072120 · 9 days

Text

isaacwhy/reader | lazyday (request)

words: 542

side note: this is my first ever x reader, don't be too harsh !! but criticism is highly appreciated, as long as it's for the good of my future work and not to mock my current skillset !

the slowly setting sun dipped just under isaac’s window, casting his bedroom in a soft glow that added to the peaceful atmosphere.

y/n and isaac were lazing in isaac’s bed, legs tangled and spreading warmth over the areas where their bodies were connected. isaac was mindlessly scrolling through his phone, huffing out laughs every once in a while. y/n was content, resting her head on his shoulder and stealing glances at his phone every few minutes.

after a while spent aimlessly scrolling, isaac powered off his phone and placed it on his nightstand. he tapped y/n’s hand delicately, a silent signal asking her to loosen her embrace around his arm. she did so, and isaac carefully shifted to his side to stare directly at her. “hi,” he said, voice soft to accommodate his smile.

y/n’s face lit up, “hi,” she said back, tone light as she laughed, “what’s up?”

“nothin’,” isaac replied, bringing his hand up to her face and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. he rested his palm against her cheek, caressing the skin there with his thumb. “just wanted to look at you.”

melting into the touch, y/n snaked her arms around isaac’s middle and drew barely present shapes with her fingers on his back. isaac pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, lingering there before pulling back and meeting y/n’s eyes once more.

“it’s 3 o’clock,” isaac stated, his free hand moving to card through y/n’s hair.

“mhm,” she replied, starting curiously at him. “what’s important about 3 o’clock?”

isaac thought for a beat. “..nothin’,” he repeated, smile growing in turn with y/n’s. “d’you have to leave any time soon?” isaac twirled her hair around his finger, playing with it as he waited.

y/n paused her absentminded scribbling, thinking. “i don’t have any plans for today,” she eventually answered, resuming her forgone action.

“good, ‘cause i wanna watch a movie, or two, or three...” isaac’s tone became a whisper as he counted. y/n slapped him lightly on the back, and he laughed. “and i wanna order some food, and just chill out. if that’s alright with you.”

y/n leaned forward and placed a kiss to isaac’s chin, smiling before isaac even reciprocated and placed one of his own on her lips. “yeah, that’s pretty alright with me.”

while isaac grabbed his phone to scroll through doordash to find something to order, y/n flipped through the movie catalogue on the tv, pressing something and pausing it while she waited for isaac to finish.

the rest of their day was made up of gentle murmurs, and delicate kisses shared between bites of food. once they hit the second movie, it was long forgotten in the background— their connection was foremost, and important above all else in the moment.

and if the next day’s sun overpowered the cool glow of the moon and they stayed cuddled in each other’s arms, resting, what did it matter? a movie played faintly as they slept, solidifying the fact that, whether or not they were doing something was insignificant, so long as they were with each other.

what was one more lazy day, if it were spent together? spent loving; together.

thank u soso much for reading!!! im sorry if this isn't any good, i have state testing today and tmr and wanted to get this out before that prematurely ended my life😭😭 the ending was meant to be more drawn out and detailed, but what can you do? also, i am my own beta-reader, and i am dyslexic, so if anything is wrong, puhLEASE let me know. thank u again for reading ^^

not adding any tags sorry im embarrassed of my work Heh

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

Note

Also I love your writing so much, I especially appreciate the way you write Lucio :) 💛

@q-u-a-rantine-high-school thank you so much! I'm so happy my scribbles make you happy ^.^

And Lucio was definitely a tricky guy to understand at first, but I'm really glad I put the work into analyzing his character! I like trying to keep things as canon as possible & it's really soothing to look at his trajectory post-upright ending :)

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana

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averagewheatley · 5 months

Note

hello!! before I ask my question I just wanted to say I love the way you draw people!! It’s so pretty and unique (I have horrible art anxiety so I can never feel content w/ anything I create)

BUTTTT, anyways..!! When it comes to drawing do you use a stylus, and does it have pen pressure, and if so, what brand? I love the way your lines look, so I was just curious!

ahhh !! thank you so much :)) I'm glad u enjoy my art, I appreciate it so so much!!!

when it comes to how I draw, I draw on an Ipad with an apple pen, and tend to steer away from pen pressure and more towards altering speed settings so that the faster I scribble the thinner the line becomes. I'll dissect my brushes for you and hopefully that gives a good idea 😁

unfortunately the brush itself is premium because I use the marker stamp but i hope these settings can be applied to other brush shapes !

#wheaters answers #ibis paint x #words cannot describe how much i love the brush settings i use. hoo boy

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-28 · 6 months

Text

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 24

*Warning Adult Content*

When I wake up to an empty bed, my heart drops, thinking I dreamt it all up.

I scramble out of the sheets, spotting a little note on the nightstand.

In a messy scrawl it reads: 'Had early morning call. See u later?' with a funny looking face scribbled next to it.

I find myself beaming as I pull out my phone to text Daemon, snapping a photo of the note and sending it to him.

Ash: You could have just texted me.

Almost immediately he starts typing in response.

Daemon: I could've. But I thought you'd like it, dork.

Ash: I do <3

I add the heart to my message with relish, smiling to myself all the while.

I remember that today I go back to school, so I jump up to get ready.

Actually being able to sleep for once has worked wonders on me.

I have never slept so soundly, without a nightmare before.

Except for maybe when I was little.

But I can't remember.

I pull out a cute striped knit sweater and skinny jeans, humming to myself as I get ready.

School is the usual stare and whisper show as usual.

Except for this time, it's not about what Henry did to me, it's about what I did to his brother.

Is it bad that I don't feel sorry?

Maybe that makes me a bad person.

I don't know.

I meet up with the gang at lunch and Lylah is static to see me, throwing her arms around me.

I hug her back tightly, glad to be back.

I apologize for being distant during my suspension.

I lie and say Lucien took my phone, not wanting to tell the truth, which is that I was too depressed to even pick up the device.

"I'm just glad you're back and not expelled," Lylah exclaims.

"It's all because Jay vouched for me," I look to said Alpha, giving him a look of appreciation. "Thanks again for doing that, even though I didn't really deserve it after what I... did."

"Agreed. Or I would've done it myself," Lylah proclaims, putting a hand over her chest as if she were doing to a pledge.

"Really?" I was worried they might think less of me.

"Yeah. You're badass, Ash," Jay winks at me.

"T-thanks" I reply, flustered.

Surely he's exaggerating.

I don't think what I did was that epic.

And now Lylah is making all sorts of teasing faces at me that Jay can't see and I just shake my head at her.

"Anyway," she clasps her hands together. "I dropped Jay's jersey off at your house. You got it, right?"

"You don't have to keep it, Ash," Jay immediately cuts in. "Not if it reminds you of..."

"No, no," I assure him. "I'll keep it. In your honor."

Lylah looks pleased with herself, a mischievous look on her face as she looks from me to Jay.

"Okay and can we talk about how you called Ash gorgeous at the game? Hmmm? Hmmm?" Lylah jabs Jay playfully in the side and he flushes, hiding his face from us.

"And how about how much you whined about Ash being gone these past two weeks?" she continues until Jay is putting a hand over her mouth to stop her.

She gleefully tries to squirm out of his grip.

I just laugh at their antics and my cheeks are already so sore from all the smiling I've been doing.

Lylah sure knows how to rile people up.

It seems her new hobby is trying to embarrass Jay in front of me.

I turn to Wren, who's been awfully quiet the entire lunch.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask him worriedly.

"Yeah. I'm just fine," he says, his tone flat.

I decide not to push it because he does not look happy whatsoever.

I look to Lylah for help but she's busy whacking Jay with her water bottle as he holds her school books out of reach.

I wish I knew how to reach out, to show Wren I'm here for him.

But he just seems so unreceptive right now.

*********

Today is my 18th birthday.

October 10th.

The day I was born.

The day I regret the most.

Okay, that was a bit dramatic.

As I wake up to the smell of coffee pancakes from downstairs I decide maybe I don't regret it too much.

I check my phone and see a flood of happy birthday texts from my friends and smile to myself.

Not one from Daemon, though.

My smile drops, kind of disappointed.

I mean, it's been better between us.

Definitely.

Not the usual fighting.

And he's been there for me.

But it's like we're in two different worlds.

I'm still in school and he's out on missions for Lucien, dealing with truces and rivalry with other packs.

I don't want him to see me as some annoying kid, whining for him to come see me.

With a sigh, I roll out of bed, padding downstairs to see Lucien's set the table lavishly with pancakes topped with powdered sugar and strawberries, syrup, bacon, scrambled eggs and a steaming cup of coffee.

"How's the birthday boy? Hungry, I hope," he chuckles, pulling out a chair for me to sit.

"Lucien. This looks amazing," I say in awe as I sit down.

I nearly start to tear up.

No one's celebrated my birthday in years.

My stepfather didn't even know the date of my birthday.

"Thank you so much," I gratefully smile at him as he ruffles my hair.

"My pleasure, bud. Let me go get your present," he leaves the room for a quick second, coming back with a pink box.

"Oh, you didn't have to..."

"Open it," he encourages me.

So I do, pulling open the box and taking out a cropped dark gray hoodie from Forever 21 that I have literally been wanting forever.

"Omg. I... how did you know?"

Lucien looks bit sheepish, scratching the back of his head.

"I may have had to get a little help from your friends."

I immediately pull it on, seeing it fits perfectly.

I spin in a circle for Lucien and he chuckles.

"It fits perfect," I exclaim.I give him a big hug.

"Thank you. This is the best present ever."

"I'm glad you like it. I was scared I might have gotten the wrong size or something. Rose was always better in the shopping department."

We finish breakfast happily and when I'm done suddenly I hear a car honk outside.

I run out to the porch to see Lylah, Wren and Jay all in her car together.

"Get in here cutie. We're taking you out," Lylah yells from the driver's seat.

"You guys..." I put a hand over my mouth in pleasant surprise.

I quickly rush upstairs to get my stuff and get ready, wearing my new hoodie and some black flare jeans.

My midriff is out so I'm a bit self-conscious but I decide that I should show off what I got.

Not that I have much... I quickly turn away from my mirror before I convince myself I look morphed and inhuman.

Which is what usually happens if I stare too long because my self perception and image are so distorted.

But today is a good day.

I can't let my low self-esteem ruin it.

I grab my phone and then head back downstairs.

"Have fun with your friends," Lucien sees me off and I tell him I will before eagerly rushing outside.

The first stop is thrifting because Lylah's absolutely obsessed with it and wants to set me up with some 'vintage' fits.

So she makes me try on all these crazy outfits while we take silly pictures together.

Jay sits on the designated 'boyfriend bench' as Lylah calls it, next to the fitting room as we do so, chatting with Wren about some rare Nike sneakers he's considering getting.

Wren is all smiles, pushing his hair behind his ear and laughing at all of Jay's jokes.

Awe, they look so cute together.

When we're finished, I only end up getting one pair of brown corduroy pants because Lylah insists on buying them for me since it's my birthday and I don't want to make her pay too much.

By that time it's early afternoon so Lylah says our next stop is the mall and that they have another surprise in store for me.

When we arrive at the small boutique I'm a bit confused and Lylah ushers me to a little booth in the corner of the store.

"So you know how you've been wanting to get your ears pierced? We thought you should do it today."

"Really? But isn't it expensive?" I ask worriedly.

"Not at all. I know the shop owner and she even gave me a discount. Consider it my gift to you," Wren assures me.

"Awe... That's so thoughtful of you," I hug him affectionately.

Then he helps me pick out some cute faux diamond earrings, ensuring I get the right size and material.

I look over as Lylah holds up some thick giant gold hoops to Jay's ear.

"He could totally rock these, couldn't he?" she asks us.

"Those look like they would tear my earlobes in half," Jay covers his ears protectively, moving away from her as we all laugh.

The process of getting my ears pierced is quick and nearly painless and after it's done I can't stop admiring the little jewel studs in my ears.

"I love them," I tell Wren and he grins bashfully.

I show Lylah and Jay excitedly.

"Material gwirl... what are you gonna get pierced next?" she asks, taking photos of me from every angle possible.

"Next? I just got these, silly."

"So that's a no to nipple piercings?" she raises her eyebrow and I gape at her, quickly looking around to make sure the employee didn't hear.

"Lylah," I whisper-yell at her.

"What? Y'all don't think Ash should get his nips pierced?" she looks to the other two.

Jay coughs abruptly, looking down to avoid the question.

Wren rolls his eyes.

"They don't do that here, weirdo."

"I wasn't serious."

Leaving them to their argument, Jay looks down at me, pushing my hair behind my ear for a better view of the earrings.

"It suits you," he says, a fond look in his eyes.

Lylah turns away from her quarrel with Wren, squealing as she starts snapping more photos of us and I wonder how she hasn't run out of storage space by now.

We hang around the mall for a bit longer until we're all hungry and we go to dinner.

Jay buys for us as my 'present' even though it's a serious battle to get past me and do that because I feel so bad about them paying for everything.

But Jay grabs the bill away from me, insisting and I eventually give in because he says he really wants to do this for me.

By the time we're done, I can't physically eat anymore so we don't order dessert.

They apologize for not being able to get me a cake and I say it's completely fine.

I mean I already had sweets this morning.

And I don't mind not following tradition.

I didn't even really know about how to celebrate birthdays until today.

And to be honest, the entire day has been so great that I find myself questioning if I deserve all this.

Then they drop me off at home and I thank them all for the wonderful time, telling them how much I love them.

I can't suppress the joy I feel, my heart is so full.

Even taking my medication at the scheduled time doesn't feel like a chore.

I look on my phone, hoping to see a text from Daemon but there's still nothing.

I mean it's not like I was expecting anything.

It's just a random day for him, not special just because it's my birthday.

So I put my phone down, telling myself to stop getting my hopes up and go take a shower.

When I get out I decide I'll watch something before bed.

As I'm about to turn a show on, I hear my phone ding with a message.

I dive for it, lighting up when I see the contact name on the screen.

Daemon: Come outside.

I waste no time pulling on some shoes and rushing downstairs, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest.

I can't believe he came.

If I wasn't happy before I'm nearly floating by now.

I open the front door to see him standing on the porch steps, adorned in a leather jacket and that familiar feeling of butterflies explodes in my stomach again.

It's obvious he's been out most of the day, his hair kind of messy but how does he still look so handsome?

It's making me so nervous.

"You came," I say.

"I didn't forget," he gives me a small smirk, pulling something out of his pocket.

A golden chain dangles from his hand.

"I uh, didn't have time to wrap it but... I made this for you," he says, almost sounding shy as he hands me it.

I take the necklace in my hands, spotting a little charm that hangs from it.

Upon closer observation, I see it's in the shape of the moon with ornate designs carved into it.

"You made this?"

I'm in awe, already feeling myself getting emotional.

He hand-crafted this for me?

'Me?'

"It's not much, I know. But I had some spare gold alloy and I thought you'd..."

By that time I'm already tearing up, letting out a little sniffle as I wipe my eyes.

Daemon's brow creases in worry.

"Do you not like it?" he asks, his expression falling.

"No, no, I love it," I clutch it to my heart. "It's perfect."

At that, a smile of relief breaks out on his face.

"Put it on for me?" I ask.

So he does, leaning in close and clasping it around my neck.

I breathe in shakily, trying to calm down.

I just can't believe he did this for me.

And I want to show him how much it means to me.

He's a step below me on the porch, so it evens out our height difference a little, though he's still taller.

"This is so sweet, Daemon," I tentatively reach out and pull him into a hug. "Thank you,"

"You're welcome, Omega," he replies teasingly, his arms wrapping around me.

I don't want to end this embrace.

I just want to stay like this forever.

And... I want Daemon to know that.

So I take a little risk. I lean in, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.

When I pull back, he's frozen, a blank look of shock on his face.

"B-bye Daemon," I stutter, starting to head back inside when he grabs my arm to stop me.

"Wait."

I look to him questioningly, wondering why but he doesn't say anything.

"I-I have to get back inside or Lucien will..."

"Right, uh..." Daemon's throat bobs and he looks a bit flustered, "Happy birthday, Ash."

"T-Thanks. And I'm gonna wear this every day. I'll treasure it. I promise."

I tell him as I rush back inside, too nervous to be around him any longer after what I just did.

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