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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

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Tattoo

Jiang Cheng decides to get his first tattoo the night he resolves to move out.

There has been a huge fight—yet again—where his father was more concerned with talking about Wei Wuxian, who wasn’t even part of this fight, and where his mother listed every single inadequacy Jiang Cheng apparently had.

And it’s enough.

He’s tired of feeling like shit in his own home and he’s tired of being made to feel like shit and he wants a change.

Which is going to start with him getting a tattoo.

His parents hate tattoos—one of the few things they can agree upon—and Jiang Cheng feels a little thrill going down his back just thinking about getting one.

But soon thinking about it turns into actively imagining, then into planning, and all of a sudden he finds himself in front of a tattoo studio.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t go in that first day; he simply can’t bring himself to. But then he spends another evening in the icy company of his parents, who are no longer speaking to him in the misguided attempt to make him apologize and Jiang Cheng decides that this is it.

He’ll get that tattoo and then he’ll get out of here.

Jiang Cheng goes back to the tattoo studio the next day, and this time he also enters. It’s not at all what he expected to look like, but he scolds himself for even thinking that. Clearly his parents and all their prejudices are way too prevalent in his life if he expected dirty corners and suspicious people everywhere.

What he sees are clean counters, tasteful pics of tattoos and not much else.

Until the most beautiful human being Jiang Cheng has ever seen steps out of a room.

“Hi, there,” the man says and Jiang Cheng does not swoon on the spot. “Do you have an appointment?”

Jiang Cheng slightly shakes his head to clear it and then he squares up.

“No, I don’t. I’d like to make one, though.”

“Alright. Sit for a moment,” the man says, pointing at a couch and then vanishing again.

Jiang Cheng does sit down, unbearably nervous now that he made that very first step and he wrings his hands in his lap. He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t even notice when the guy comes back.

“First time?” the guy asks as he puts a glass of water down in front of Jiang Cheng, who nods and gratefully takes the glass to take a sip.

“Yeah. That obvious?” he asks with a small smile and the guy shrugs.

“You get an eye for it, after a while. Nie Mingjue,” he then introduces himself and Jiang Cheng puts the glass back down so that he doesn’t notice how much his hands shake.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Alright, Jiang Cheng, what do you want?” Nie Mingjue asks, a sketchbook making an appearance and Jiang Cheng swallows heavily.

“Just something small,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “Something I can hide away.”

At that Nie Mingjue pauses.

“I don’t make tattoos that have to be hidden away,” he cautiously says, already closing the sketchbook again.

“Yeah, well, I’m not asking for your opinion here,” Jiang Cheng snaps back before he clenches his jaw and scrubs a hand over his face. “I apologize,” he tacks on, much more quietly, as he gets up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue says, sighing himself. “That was unprofessional of me. I just think—this is art, you know. Something you chose for yourself, something you should be proud of. That’s just usually how this goes. But if it’s private, then that’s perfectly fine. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

Jiang Cheng slowly sinks back down into the couch at those words and Nie Mingjue opens his sketchbook again.

“Alright,” he slowly says. “I want three little dog paw prints on my hip.”

He didn’t give this too much thought, honestly, but it feels right. It’s been years since he had to give his dogs away for Wei Wuxian’s sake and while he’s not mad at Wei Wuxian for that, he does resent his parents for it.

They were just puppies. There was a chance for Wei Wuxian to get acquainted with dogs that didn’t mean him harm. They could have given them to someone close by, so that Jiang Cheng could have gone there to see them every now and then.

But they didn’t do any of these things and just took the only friends away from Jiang Cheng he had at that time.

He is still resentful about that.

“Like this?” Nie Mingjue asks and shows him the sketch he quickly did.

It’s really just those three paw prints, nothing fancy about it, and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s perfect.

“Yes,” he breathes out and he can’t wait for them to be on his skin.

“This will be quick and I have time now, if you want,” Nie Mingjue offers him and that makes Jiang Cheng freeze.

He did not expect this to happen so soon, but after a moment he finds that it’s the only thing he wants.

“Yes,” he decisively says and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

Jiang Cheng did not need to know that he has dimples.

“Good,” he nods, before he falls into what Jiang Cheng suspects to be the customary first client talk.

Jiang Cheng does his best to listen and nod at the right moments, but he is distracted by Nie Mingjue and the way he talks and moves and sounds.

In the end Nie Mingjue still seems to be satisfied, because he leads Jiang Cheng towards one of the back rooms where he asks him to take his pants off.

Jiang Cheng freezes again because he did not quite make that connection yet, but of course he’d have to at least take of his pants for this. He sheds them quickly, not looking at Nie Mingjue and reminding himself that he must see this several times a day and that surely Jiang Cheng is nothing special.

He barely realizes that his hands are shaking.

“Are you okay?” Nie Mingjue lowly asks him, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s nerves and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to answer him.

In the end, the truth comes spilling out.

“No,” he admits. “My parents are going to disown me for this, should they ever find out. I mean they are going to disown me either way once I move out, but—yeah,” he finishes awkwardly once he realizes that he’s rambling because Nie Mingjue absolutely did not sign up to hear about Jiang Cheng’s fucked up life.

“Are you safe at home?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng catches him quickly checking him over as if he’s looking for bruises.

“Physically yes,” Jiang Cheng gives back as his eyes start to burn. “Emotionally not so much,” he adds in a whisper, admitting to this for the first time out loud, and he sways into Nie Mingjue when he clasps his shoulder.

“But you’re taking steps,” he says and it’s not a question.

“I’m taking steps,” Jiang Cheng agrees and finally gets on the cot, ready to get this first rebellious step done.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly still worried, but also satisfied and when he starts the tattoo gun they don’t talk much more.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is struggling. He feels isolated and lonely and like his parents scathing silence is going to suffocate him one of these days, even after he moved out, and there’s only one thing Jiang Cheng can think of doing.

He finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s tattoo studio.

“Back so soon,” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng realizes that it has only been three months since he got the paw prints.

It feels like so much longer, with everything that happened.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly says and sinks down in the couch again. “I want something bigger.”

“Something you can’t hide,” Nie Mingjue replies, even as he sits down with his sketchbook. “How is that situation going?”

“I moved out. I’m not talking to my parents. But—” he trails off, unsure if he should really just unload all of his bullshit on this stranger.

“But there’s a lot of shit to unlearn and figure out for yourself, especially if this has been going on for a while,” Nie Mingjue says with an understanding nod and when Jiang Cheng stares at him, Nie Mingjue shrugs awkwardly.

“My brother has an interest in psychology and he loves using me as his sounding board. It only got worse when he took up some classes at university.”

“Ah, I see,” Jiang Cheng says and then sighs. “I’m deciding if it’s worth going to see someone,” he then admits lowly and cringes immediately afterwards. “I’m sorry, this is not what I’m here for and it’s absolutely not your job to listen to me.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people see this as a therapy session,” Nie Mingjue gives back, and while Jiang Cheng would usually recoil at that, it doesn’t sound judging.

“But I’m here for this,” Jiang Cheng says and puts a slip of paper on the table.

He’s by no means an artist, but he has always enjoyed doodling and he’s perfectly capable of designing his own tattoo, especially when he gives it more than just a few days thought.

“That is bigger,” Nie Mingjue says with a raised eyebrow as he picks the paper up. “Much more difficult to hide.”

“No more hiding,” Jiang Cheng resolutely says. “I want it to curl around my arm, the head on the back of my hand.”

“Really big then. From shoulder to hand?”

“Yes.”

“Mh,” Nie Mingjue hums as he starts to sketch something.

When he turns the sketchbook to Jiang Cheng it’s still the snake and nothing fundamentally has changed, but it still looks better than the basic design Jiang Cheng came up with.

He itches with the need to get this on his arm.

“Yes,” he breathes out, reaching out to brush his hand over the sketch. “Please.”

“You’ll need an appointment for this one,” Nie Mingjue says as he gets up to schedule Jiang Cheng in.

It takes Nie Mingjue three sessions to get the snake done and Jiang Cheng loves it more than he thought possible.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng takes his time for the third tattoo. He takes his time to get used to living alone, takes his time to figure out if he really wants to go for a business degree and most importantly, he takes his time to get back together with his siblings.

They didn’t quite fall out when Jiang Cheng moved out, but he kept his distance for a while and now he doesn’t.

Now he welcomes them into his home and his new life and he sits Wei Wuxian down to have a real talk; one where he doesn’t allow Wei Wuxian to laugh everything away—either his own pain or Jiang Cheng’s—and afterwards they feel like family again.

Jiang Cheng briefly debates if he wants to do the same with his parents, but he finds that he couldn’t care less.

He can barely think about them without getting angry or nauseous or both and he figures it’s not worth it. Not now and maybe not ever.

So instead of wasting more thoughts on that Jiang Cheng finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s studio.

“It does get quite addicting, doesn’t it?” Nie Mingjue asks him with a smirk when Jiang Cheng steps inside and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Especially when you finally figure your life out for yourself,” he gives back and he has to admit that for the first time he’s not nervous as he sits down on the couch.

He knows what he wants and he knows what to expect.

It leaves him time to appreciate Nie Mingjue, though, and that makes Jiang Cheng’s stomach flutter.

There are tattoos on Nie Mingjue as well; making their way down his arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Jiang Cheng finds that he wants to see all of them.

“Okay, hit me,” Nie Mingjue says as he sits down as well and Jiang Cheng gives him his sketch.

Three lotus pods for him and his siblings. Jiang Cheng does only have good memories of them picking lotus seeds, and especially of Jiang Yanli’s soup.

“Next you’re going to learn how to tattoo yourself and then I’ll be out of a job,” Nie Mingjue grumbles as he takes the sketch and Jiang Cheng smiles with pride.

He did put an awful lot of work into this.

“I want it on my calf,” he tells Nie Mingjue who nods.

“Easy enough, but you need an appointment.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng shrugs and his eyes drop to Nie Mingjue’s hands, which are still holding his sketch.

Honestly, Jiang Cheng did not expect his heart to beat faster at that, or the thought that Nie Mingjue will put his hands on Jiang Cheng’s skin soon enough but he’s not going to stop it either.

The pods don’t take much time at all once the appointment comes around, and soon enough Jiang Cheng is stepping out on the street with one tattoo more.

It feels like he’s reclaiming bits and pieces of himself with every tattoo that he gets and he honestly doesn’t want it to stop.

It’s only a little bit because he wants to continue seeing Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

“You’re going to be a regular soon,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile when Jiang Cheng steps into the by now so familiar studio yet again and he frowns, affronted.

“It’s my fourth time. How much more do I have to come by to be considered a regular?”

“Well, the true regulars drop by just to say hello, too,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly trying for nonchalant but Jiang Cheng sees the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, but he still sits down on the couch. “But today I’m here for an appointment.”

“Do I even need to bring my sketchbook?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly remembering that there was nothing for him to do the last time Jiang Cheng came by but Jiang Cheng nods.

“I just have an idea. I need you to draw it.”

“Oh, alright,” Nie Mingjue says, and is quick to retrieve the book before he sits down. “What do you want?”

“I want water, or waves, under my collarbone,” Jiang Cheng says and points at the spot.

It hasn’t been that long since he started to swim again, but he already knows that it will be a big part of his life from now on.

Jiang Cheng used to love it, until his parents made it into a competition between him and Wei Wuxian and pressured him to do better and better. Jiang Cheng stopped after one too many silver medals and he never picked it up again, too afraid of falling back into old habits, of feeling like shit for doing something just for fun, no matter how much he loved it.

But he picked swimming up again, and it turns out he’s still good and he still loves it. Even more now that he can just do it for fun and challenge himself if he feels like it.

And he wants a tattoo for it as well. It’s another piece of himself he reclaimed after all.

“Like so?” Nie Mingjue asks, showing Jiang Cheng the rough sketch.

It’s a little bit too stylized for Jiang Cheng’s taste and he tells Nie Mingjue so, who turns the page and starts again.

When he shows Jiang Cheng the new sketch, it looks more realistic and it’s exactly what Jiang Cheng wants.

“Yes,” he breathes out and smiles.

That one feels just as right as his other tattoos had.

“Water, huh?” Nie Mingjue asks, quite awkwardly Jiang Cheng thinks but he smiles at Nie Mingjue.

“I recently re-found my love for swimming,” he tells him. “It helps that my parents are not yelling at me to win a gold medal.”

“Did you use to? Win gold medals?”

“No. My brother did though, which both my parents used to rub in, in very different way. I stopped because they made me dread going into the water but now that I’m just doing it for fun,” he awkwardly trails off. “I still love it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng is surprised when Nie Mingjue squeezes his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you do look better. Definitely happier than the first time you came in.”

It makes Jiang Cheng flush, because he didn’t know that it had been that bad or that Nie Mingjue had been paying attention to him.

“I am. Better. Still on the way with a lot of things, but definitely better,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he tries very hard not to think about the fact that he still doesn’t know what he wants to do with his future or if he wants to get a dog, despite Wei Wuxian’s fear, or if he’ll ever be man enough to ask Nie Mingjue out on a date.

But slow steps. First he gets this tattoo and then he can think about what comes after.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng never gave much thought to his sexuality beyond the fact that it wouldn’t matter who he brings home; his parents were surely going to hate them, just because it was Jiang Cheng who introduced them.

He had looked at a few boys during school, but his mother had made it very clear that Jiang Cheng was going to get married to a business woman of her choosing, producing heirs for the company as soon as he could, and Jiang Cheng didn’t think much beyond that except ‘Fuck no’.

But now he has time to re-evaluate his sexuality and while he would probably label himself as bisexual at the moment he’s very definitely Nie Mingjue-sexual.

Not that he’s ever going to mention that to the man himself.

He’s standing in front of the tattoo studio yet again, even though he doesn’t have plans for a new tattoo yet. But Nie Mingjue had said regulars came by whenever, and Jiang Cheng wants to have that connection with Nie Mingjue.

He just can’t bring himself to make the first step.

So instead of going in, he walks up and down on the other side of the studio, berating himself that he just can’t bring himself to do it, but just as he is about to turn around and go home, Nie Mingjue steps out and walks straight up to him.

“Nervous?” Nie Mingjue asks with a teasing smile and Jiang Cheng deflates.

“I’m not quite sure how to make friends,” he admits and then wishes the ground would swallow him, because Nie Mingjue never said anything about being friends and it’s not quite what Jiang Cheng wants anyway.

“Usually you start talking to them,” Nie Mingjue says and steers Jiang Cheng towards a coffee shop.

“About what?” Jiang Cheng helplessly asks but he allows Nie Mingjue to lead the way.

“How was your day?” Nie Mingjue starts and Jiang Cheng finds that talking to Nie Mingjue over a cup of coffee is one of the easiest things he has done.

They start to do it weekly.

~*~*~

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue warmly greets him when Jiang Cheng steps into the studio again but he frowns when Jiang Cheng sits down on the couch. “You didn’t say anything about a new tattoo.”

It almost sounds accusing and Jiang Cheng helplessly shrugs.

“I woke up with the burning need to get one, so here I am.”

“Ah, a true addict,” Nie Mingjue says with a shake of his head, but he does get his sketchbook and sits down with him. “What’s it gonna be this time?”

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to gather his thoughts, letting his eyes wander over the tattoos on Nie Mingjue’s arms and he wonders if he can ever bring himself to ask to see them up close. To learn the story behind them.

“I want a lotus flower in the middle of my back,” Jiang Cheng finally says and it’s just because he still has his eyes on Nie Mingjue’s arms that he sees him jerk at his words.

“Between your shoulder blades?” Nie Mingjue asks to clarify and Jiang Cheng nods, finally looking up.

“Yes. And I want it in colour, too.”

It is the family crest and Jiang Cheng was torn about that for a long time, but it’s still his family and it’s still such a big part of himself that he needs to reclaim. Especially since his father does still want him as the head of the company and Jiang Cheng decided to do it.

“Oh, dear gods,” Nie Mingjue mumbles and Jiang Cheng frowns, torn out of his thoughts.

“Something wrong with that?” he wants to know but Nie Mingjue is quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all,” he says, busying himself with his pencil.

They fall into an uneasy silence and Jiang Cheng wonders what he did wrong to make Nie Mingjue respond like this, but before he can come up with a plausible explanation, Nie Mingjue gives him the sketchbook.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathes out. “It’s gorgeous.”

He didn’t dare imagine the design too much, because he wanted Nie Mingjue to create it, but Jiang Cheng did not imagine this.

“Yeah?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng frowns when he hears his voice crack.

“Yes! When can we do it?” he asks, suddenly eager to get it done as quickly as possible.

“I have time today, if you’re really sure,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng practically beams at him, which clearly is answer enough.

“Alright, get ready then,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod of his head towards the same back room they always use and Jiang Cheng eagerly makes his way over there.

He’s just taking off his shirt when he hears Nie Mingjue come back in, mostly because he hears the muttered “Fuck”.

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng asks, turning around, his shirt still around his arms. “Is something wrong?”

“Wanyin, you can’t do that to me,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, his eyes trailing over first his tattoos that Nie Mingjue himself put there and then towards his shoulders and back.

“Do what?” Jiang Cheng asks, honestly confused, but there’s something in Nie Mingjue’s gaze that makes him go hot all over.

“You can’t let me mark you up all the time and then not go on a date with me,” Nie Mingjue says, finally meeting Jiang Cheng’s eyes and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to smile at him.

But once he starts, he can’t stop.

“Well, you’d have to ask for me to say yes,” he tells Nie Mingjue, finally taking his shirt off. “Why now, though?”

“Now,” Nie Mingjue huffs out and steps close, dropping a quick kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head, catching him completely off guard with that. “As if I didn’t want to ask you since that first time you came into my studio.”

Jiang Cheng can’t hide his blush, he’s sure of that, but when Nie Mingjue’s gaze goes soft, he finds that he doesn’t mind.

“Okay, but why now?” he asks again, though he couldn’t be happier despite the fact that Nie Mingjue still didn’t ask him out.

“You look happier, more grounded,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “And honestly, I’m only human. There’s only so much self-control I have, especially if you’ll allow me to mark up that masterpiece of a back.”

“I swim a lot,” Jiang Cheng says, smug as anything, because Nie Mingjue looks like he could bench press Jiang Cheng if he really wanted to and to hear that he likes how Jiang Cheng looks, that’s quite the ego boost.

“I see,” Nie Mingjue says, though he sounds strangled. “Go on a date with me, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue then says, and Jiang Cheng likes the fact that it’s not even really a question.

“Weekly dates are not enough for you?” he teases Nie Mingjue, absolutely delighted by how this is going and he enjoys seeing Nie Mingjue flounder for a bit.

“You owe me at least twelve kisses then,” Nie Mingjue finally says, sounding absolutely indignant and Jiang Cheng chuckles.

“You only want one kiss per date? That’s quite disappointing, really,” Jiang Cheng says with a smile and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“We’re working our way up, once it’s officially a date and not just coffee. But you can owe me all the kisses you want.”

“I think I like that,” Jiang Cheng happily says and leans in to get started on repaying his debt right that instant.

It leaves Jiang Cheng breathless when they part and he’s strangely relieved to see that Nie Mingjue is not doing that much better himself.

“Your hand will be steady enough for this, right?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to ask, because he wants that tattoo now and he would be disappointed if Nie Mingjue said no.

“I’m a professional,” Nie Mingjue huffs out, even as he gently cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek in his hand. “I managed to keep a steady hand all the other times, too, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Jiang Cheng gives back and nuzzles into the hand.

They lose themselves a little bit in each other for a while, but eventually Nie Mingjue does get to prove that he has a steady hand, despite the circumstances.

Once the lotus flower on Jiang Cheng’s back is done, they go on their first official dinner date.

~*~*~

On their one year anniversary, Jiang Cheng gets Nie Mingjue to tattoo a green band around his right arm and Nie Mingjue manages to make it look like it’s shining from the inside.

Jiang Cheng catches Nie Mingjue wiping away a tear once he’s done and he would tease him for it, but since Jiang Cheng cried when Nie Mingjue revealed that the frog over his heart was for Jiang Cheng, he fears he has no leg to stand on.

Paw Prints Snake, expect imagine this spanning down the whole arm Lotus Pods Water, under Jiang Cheng's collarbone Lotus Flower, except it's in the middle of Jiang Cheng's back Green Band, there's no real pic for this, but imagine this ring as a tattoo around Jiang Cheng's forearm, because Mingjue's name is made up out of the characters for 'bright, shining' and 'jade ring' if google didn't lie to me

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #modern au #getting together #healing #tattoos #first kiss

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a-chaotically-small-lunta · 2 years

Text

A Helpful Bean

It's finally here, a story about how David met Laura. There some injury mentioned btw. Just thought I'd let you know. Either way enjoy one of my favorite G/t tropes; the first meetings.

David was first mentioned here, if you are curious.

You were just a normal human, with a tiny best friend. You had met them awhile back, and at first, they were suspicious of you but slowly over time they started to trust you. You and your small friend were the closest of friends. Hanging out late at night, watching movies, playing games, and more.

It’s been a full two years since you made friends with the borrower. Occasionally they’d come with you to school or if you went somewhere relatively interesting, like the museum or movie theater. Today however they were going to join you as you went to visit your old babysitter from when you were younger. They weren’t going to babysit you, but rather you wanted to visit them for old times sake. That and you needed to write a report over someone you knew personally. Your small friend wanted to join you saying they were curious about the lady. You begrudgingly agreed to let your friend join you.

As you made your way towards her house, your friend popped their head out of your pocket, “Hey! What’s this lady’s name anyway?” they questioned.

“Her name is Laura, she’s pretty eccentric. To say the least.” You replied giving them a glance.

As you walked, the two of you continued to chat. Talking about how you were excited for the new episode coming out later today, people who were interesting to you two, and other things.

After a while, you reached the Laura’s house. It certainly was an interesting house, considering it was the only purple house on the street. You made your way up to the door and rang the doorbell.

“I’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!” shouted Laura from within. Some shuffling could be heard from behind the door. You looked down at your pocket to double check that your friend was hidden away, no need to have them be seen by more people. You looked up just as the door opened, and you were greeted by Laura, who was smiling a bright smile.

“Oh hello, sweetheart! I haven’t seen you for a long time, like a few months really. Come in, come in. How have you been? Do you need something?” She said while waving you inside. Laura had long wavy brown hair, that was all frazzled. She had dark brown eyes, that sometimes you swear they were secretly just black. Those eyes hid behind a pair of glasses, that were just as purple as her house. Laura was wearing a tank top, which revealed her shoulder which were covered in scars, much like her neck. You were curious about them, perhaps maybe she’ll tell you how she got those. She was in her late forties and lived alone, although that didn’t seem to bother her all too much.

You smiled, “I’ve been good, and yes I need some help. I’m writing a report and I’m doing it on you.” Laura smiled as she led you to her living room.

“Well, that’s certainly exciting!” She then paused and looked over your outfit. You saw her eyes look at your pocket, the same one that held your friend. You tried your best to not seem suspicious, “Oh would you like some tea?” she asked, and you nodded. She smiled and walked away. Once she was out of the room, you released a breath of relief. Your small friend waited a few seconds before peaking their head out of your pocket to take a look around.

“Wow, her house has a lot of decorations” they muttered. You nodded and hummed a response. Both of you looked around at all the shelves and books on those shelves. Most of the books seemed to be old sketchbooks and old notebooks. The walls were painted with at least three different colors in interesting spirals and patterns.

“Hey, do you see that?” you asked in a hushed whisper, and pointed towards one of the many bookshelves.

Your pal looked over and let out a small gasp, “Wait…is that a string?” You slowly stood up and walked over to get a closer look. You gently reached for the string, pulling it closer to your eyes. You noticed it was hooked to one of the upper shelves. “Yup, definitely a hook and string. Maybe there is borrower living here!” Your small friend beamed up at you.

“Perhaps, do you think they are nearby? I mean, why would they leave this out? Wouldn’t that get them caught?” You glanced back down at your friend, who had furrowed their brow in thought.

“Maybe, I mean we shouldn’t take it since they probably still need it, but what if Laura sees it?” Your friend’s comment made you start questioning what to do.

“Mmh, perhaps we should just leave it. I mean it blends in with the wood. You have to really look for it, in order to actually see it. Also, she won’t be facing that way.”

“But you will.”

You hummed, “Hopefully they see that you and I are friends. That way they know they can be seen by me and I won’t expose them. You know what I mean?”

Your small friend nodded. You backed away from the bookshelf and started to scan the many books. There were some science, fantasy, and sci-fi books. Also on this bookshelf were random items like a weirdly shaped vase, a pencil holder, a trophy, a model doll, and many other oddities.

You and your pal were looking over these items and books and agreed they were pretty interesting. Then you heard Laura’s footsteps, and you quickly shuffled back to your seat on the couch. Your friend ducked down into the pocket and quickly made themselves comfortable. Laura walked in carrying a plate with a teapot, two cups, a container of sugar, a cream pitcher, and a little box.

“Sorry for taking a while. I got distracted and forgot what I was doing” Laura laughed as she placed the plate onto the table. She poured some tea into the cups, “You’re welcome to as much sugar and cream as you need.” You smiled and fixed your preferred tea to sugar and cream ratio.

Laura sipped her tea, and you saw her eyes once again glance at your pocket. She smiled and said, “Before we begin, I have a question for you.”

“Um, what would that be?” you asked hesitantly.

“Who is in your pocket?” You froze, how did she know? You were freaking out, and you could feel your face drain.

“What are you talking about?” You tried your best to act normal, however Laura’s raised eyebrow told you she wasn’t buying it.

“Honey, listen. I know you probably don’t want to show them. But I know you have a borrower in your pocket. You talked to them, while I was making the tea.” Your mouth opened to protest or give an excuse, but Laura raised her hand to stop you, “My friend told me. I know you are wondering how I knew. Either way,” she let out a sigh, “I’m just making sure, that they are choosing to be with you.”

“They’re my best friend!” you shouted. Your hand then slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Is that true, little one?” Laura asked, eyeing your pocket.

Slowly your small friend peaked over the edge of your pocket. They were a bit scared but with a quick look of reassurance from you, made them stand a bit taller.

“They are my best friend, technically my only friend.” They shouted; their voice was firm but had a small waver within it.

Laura relaxed, “Okay, I believe you. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone, I’ve kept that same secret longer than you’ve been alive,” She laughed.

You and your friend were confused, “What do you mean?” you asked.

Laura chuckled and reached over to the plate with the tea set. She grabbed the small box and lifted it up to reveal a small woman with long black hair. The small woman stood up and smiled, she was holding two small cups and had two chair-like objects were next to her. “This is Lily, she is one of the many borrowers I know. I believe I can trust you to keep this secret.” Laura looked at you and waited for a response. You simply nodded.

“Hello, if you would like, I have a teacup for your friend. You can place them down here with me.” Lily smiled and Laura moved the box and chairs to resemble a table with chairs. You looked at your friend and they nodded. You scooped them out of your pocket and gently moved them to the plate. You stopped your hand near the small set up, allowing your small friend to hop off and walk over to Lily. They took a cup and sat down in one of the chairs, and Lily joined them.

“How do you know about borrowers?” You asked after picking up your cup of tea, watching as Laura carefully had a small drop of tea hang from the pot, which Lily collected into the small teacups.

“I should be asking how you two met,” Laura chuckled, “However you did come here for a story, guess I can give you one. Although, I hope you don’t use my first meeting with a borrower in your report.” You quickly shook your head no.

Laura leaned back and smile, “Alright, get comfy. This is the story about how I met two small borrowers; Lily,” she then gestured to Lily who nodded, “And her brother, David.”

----------------Flash Back ---------------

It was an autumn day of her freshmen year in High School, and Laura was hiding in her closet working on homework and listening to music. The closet was a sanctuary, where she could hide away from family and the outside world. It felt safe because if her parents were to burst into the room, she could hear them open the first door and head to the closet that she was hidden in, that way Laura had time to hide things she was doing, usually drawings but still. When you get yelled at for not working on homework or just relaxing and having bad grades, despite the lowest being only a C, you tend to have a knee-jerk reaction to hide things that might be considered “wrong.” Laura couldn’t help but develop these reactions.

She sighed and looked back down at her Geometry homework; all the while Techno music played in the background. Man, I hate math. She thought, as she tapped her pencil on her head. Laura’s mind was getting overwhelmed by all the different numbers, and the drama within her friend group. The only thing holding her steady was the beat of the music, but it was slowly losing its grip on her.

Eventually all the math was too much, “UGHHHHH.” Laura let out hitting her head onto the box she used as a makeshift table. Laura ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. You could ask for help. No, no. Last time you asked for help, you didn’t get any. In fact, you got more confused. They’d also question why you can’t get it done. Or complain that its your music that’s distracting you. Laura let out a long sigh and let her thoughts just ramble off. There was no point in trying to stop all the voices in her head. They won’t shut up. She turned off the music to get rid of external noise that might cause her to freak out. Laura needed to calm down, but her mind was racing.

As Laura’s thoughts rambled, she heard something fall. It was a weird thud, like a hand slapping a counter limply. It snapped her out of her thoughts in an instant. The world fell silent, except for a passing car outside. She felt like she shouldn’t move, but her mind was curious as to what fell. What could make that kind of noise? It was just too weird. Go and investigate. This curiosity of yours will kill you one day.

Laura slowly got up and opened the closet door. She peaked out and scanned the messy floor. She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, until she heard a very quiet and muffled sharp inhale. She turned her head towards her dresser, only for her eyes to widen in surprise and horror. There on her dresser was a small dude, and he wasn’t looking to good. She slowly made her way in front of the dresser to get a better look. Laura couldn't believe her eyes. The small being seemed to be a young man, perhaps around her age. He had black hair that curled and twirled in random directions, and if she focused, she could see his bright green eyes. He was gripping his leg, and Laura may not be a doctor, but she knew that legs typically don’t bend more than twice. The little guy looked up and noticed Laura. She stepped back a bit in surprise, and he reacted by grabbing a small knife.

He pointed the knife at her and hissed, “DON’T GET CLOSE!” Laura froze, she wanted to help. She also didn’t want to be stabbed. He then tried to get up only to fall. Once he fell, he bit into his arm to muffle a scream. That’s when she noticed that his outfit had long sleeves, and some kind of shawl over his shoulders. He wore pants with several pockets and wore no shoes. There was a small bag with scattered contents a few inches away from him. As she analyzed his outfit, he had tried once again to stand only to fall. He let out another hiss of pain.

“What happened?” Laura said without thinking. The small being glared up at her.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSSINESS!” he shouted at her. He looked at his leg and then at his bag. It was pretty obvious he needed it but couldn’t exactly move towards it. So, Laura gently raised her hand and placed it near the bag. She pushed it and its contents towards the small person. He thanked her, by digging his knife into her hand.

Laura yelped and pulled her hand back, realizing that the knife was still inside. It had a blue ball as a handle and seemed to have been made from a pin. She pulled it out, placing it far from him, and sent a glare back at the glaring boy.

“Hey! I was just trying to help!” She half shouted. She couldn’t actually yell because then her parents would burst in and ask her why, that and she figured his ears weren’t accustom to loud noises.

“Yeah? I warned you not to get close!” he spat back.

Laura huffed, and watched as the small guy collect his things. She glanced up and saw a tangled string hanging from her shelf. She reached for it and pulled it off, seeing a hook was holding it to the shelf. She lowered it down and placed it near the man, who proceeded to pull out another knife, this one with a yellow tip. This guy has a lot of knives.

The tiny dude looked through his items before letting out an agitated sigh. He then looked deep in thought, it seemed he was at a lost. Perhaps he didn’t have something to set his leg? Or something to lean against.

That’s when Laura let out an annoyed huff, before turning to the tiny being. His attention had been drawn to her, since the air from her huff had ruffled his hair. He then gave her a inquisitive look.

“You need help, don’t you?” she asked.

“Pft. NO, especially not from ya, bean!” He shouted. Laura snorted, bean.

“Well, obliviously you’re lying, so I’m helping you.” Her conscious wouldn’t let her just leave him.

“DON’T YA TOUCH ME!”

“Too bad! I’ll be back.” She left the bedroom and walked to the bathroom. She looked through the cabinets and drawers, until she found some bandages. She then snuck into her mom’s office and rummaged through the art supplies. Eventually she found the wooden sticks and pulled two out. She would need scissors too, but those were somewhere in her room.

Laura quickly went back to her room, she opened the door and entered. Gently, she closed it behind her and turned towards the dresser. She let out a sigh of relief, he was still there. Although he looked pissed that he couldn’t get away in time. Laura walked over and placed the items down and grabbed her scissors from one of the drawers.

She looked over at the small guy, “Alright, I’m just going to set your leg. So please don’t stab me.” He continued his death stare as her hands slowly moved towards him. Her hand got close and he immediately stabbed it. She yelped and pulled her hand back. I should have known. She pulled the knife out and placed it next to the other one at the other end of the dresser. Laura looked back and waited to see if he would pull out another knife. However, it seemed he was out of knives.

“Alright, listen. I’m gonna do this. I’ll make it as quick as possible ok?” He glared and she approached again, her hand was hovering over him and he started to attack it. He punched and fought back; Laura didn’t react but noticed something was off. She gently placed her hand to hold the boy down, so she could focus. That’s when she truly realized what was happening, he definitely didn’t like being touched. Not only did he not like it, but she could see true fear in his face. Laura felt her heart sink a bit; He was terrified. He scratched and bit at the hand that held his torso, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she focused solely on his broken leg. I’ll make this quick, I promise.

Maneuvering her fingers and her other hand, she lifted the broken leg and got started. She placed the sticks onto the sides of his leg and gently pushed them to straighten the leg out a bit. As Laura did this, she felt a muffled scream vibrate against her hand, and the bite that accompanied it bit down harder. Let him do this, he needs this. She continued her work and eventually started wrapping the leg up. Once it was wrapped up, she gently lowered his leg back down and looked back at him. He had tears running down his face, and there was blood around his mouth and on his fingers. Laura knew it was her blood, and that he was just trying to protect himself. The little guy looked exhausted, and as she lifted her hand that held him down, he flinched.

“You’re all done, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Laura looked off, and from the corner of her eye she watched him sit up.

“What are ya doing?” He asked, Laura looked back over surprised.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, “Why help me? Just to torture me. To make me suffer. To capture me and heal me up so you can break me yourself? I know your kind, and no bean has ever helped a…” he paused and quickly looked away.

Laura tilted her head, “Helped a what?”

“Nothing…” he looked away.

“Last time I checked; you aren’t nothing. You’re something, someone even. So, what and who are you?” she leaned down and rested her head on the dresser, a decent distance away from him. She figured he already went through a lot today. I won’t touch you again. Your eyes tell me that you were waiting to die. I won’t let you. Laura didn’t know why, but she wanted to help and protect him. Although based on her bleeding hand, he probably could take care of himself. It was obvious that he was stubborn, and so was she. Laura just had the upper hand, literally.

“I’m not telling you that.” He spoke. Yup he’s definitely stubborn. But so am I.

“What? Come on, at least give me your name” he shook his head, “ugh, come on. How about I start, my name is Laura, what’s yours?”

“Fuck off.” So that’s how it’s going to be.

“Well Fuck off, it’s nice to meet you.” She grinned; he then whipped his head towards her.

“My name ain’t fuck! You’re the FUCK!”

“Nope your name is Fuck now. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Laura grinned and watched as he cursed under his breath.

“FINE! Name’s David…” he looked away.

“Well, David. I just want to let you know that…I’m sorry..” He curiously looked up at the Bean before him. He watched her eyes sadden before, “I’m sorry I held you down like that. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m not sorry for helping you though, but I am sorry that…” she paused, letting out a shaky breath, “It must’ve been terrifying for you. Having my hand hold you down, and I’m sorry about that.” David sat there in silence and Laura watched as the gears in his head turned. “Also, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to. That sounds weird, sorry. It’s just…you looked so scared.”

“Shut up,” David said, he turned away, “I don’t exactly believe you…but if what you are saying is true. Prove it.”

“How?” Laura raised an eyebrow.

“Give me my knives back and give me that” he pointed at a small tube of super glue that sat on the dresser. Laura picked up the knives and slid them over to him. She then picked up the tube and placed it nearby. She watched as David grabbed the tube and used it as a crutch, after putting his knives away.

David stood up and looked around, once checking that he had all his belongings he looked up at Laura and shuddered, “Alright,” he said, “I need one more thing from ya, but ya can’t…touch me. I get to touch ya, alright?” Laura nodded her head and he continued, “Alright…lay your hand flat and let me climb on. Then carefully, put me on the ground near your dresser.”

Laura nodded and carefully placed her hand near David. Not to close, since she didn’t want to spook him and get stabbed, again. He walked over, using his makeshift crutch to steady himself and got to her hand and froze. Laura could see the color drain from his face, He doesn’t want to get on, he’s scared to.

Before David could even take action, she slowly slid her hand away. Causing David to jump a bit and reach for his knife, but he didn’t pull it out.

“Listen I can tell you don’t want to be on my hand so can I offer a different solution?” Laura said quietly, with a soft smile. David nodded and Laura walked over to grab a small pillow. It was just a pillow that most people put on couches. It was soft and was a bit flat from being older and used for years. Laura brought the pillow over a lowered it to the edge of the dresser. She smiled up to David.

“Don’t worry, I have a good hold on the pillow. So, I won’t drop you. Just take your time and climb on when you are ready.” Laura smiled, and watched as David made his way to the edge. The pillow was pressed up against the dresser so that there was a crack to fall through. David paused before taking a deep breath and crawled on. He made his way to the center of the pillow where he gently sank into it. He then gave Laura a thumbs up and she nodded. As slowly as she could, she pulled the pillow away from the dresser and carefully lowered herself and the pillow onto the ground. Once the pillow was touching the ground, she removed her hands from the pillow and scooted back as to give David some space.

David slid off, landing on his good leg and using the pillow to keep himself up. He looked over at Laura and then mumbled a quick thanks. He started to walk away when Laura suddenly spoke up.

“Will I ever see you again?” David looked back and at Laura’s face. She had a hint of sadness and regret, as if she knew the answer was probably no and that it was a stupid question to ask.

David sighed, “I don’t think so, but there’s always a chance.” In all honesty, he knew he had to leave this house because he had been seen. But…with his leg broken, it would be a while. Which meant his sister Lily would have to borrow for a bit, while he recovered.

Laura let out a sigh, “I understand…but I hope you stay here…in this house…I’m assuming you live here. Which I’m fine with. Just…be safe…please.”

“Why do you care?” David asked, with a hint of venom in his voice.

“I don’t know, I just do. I care about people…it’s a weakness of mine, I guess. I just worry about anyone I meet…” She looked off to the side.

“Caring doesn’t make you weak…” He said and walked away. With that David disappeared under the dresser. Leaving Laura sitting in her room in front of her dresser. As she sat there, she just worried about David. She hoped and prayed that he made it back home safely, and that he took needed rest. She also hoped he forgave her for her actions.

Eventually Laura’s mother called her down for dinner, and Laura would put the pillow back and head downstairs. During dinner she thought about David and his reactions, as well as what he said. These thoughts continued as she finished her homework and even as she went to bed.

As she lay in her bed wondering about David, heard some shuffling. Laura opened her eyes and turned towards her nightstand. There on her nightstand was a little girl. She looked nervous, and hid part of her face with her long black hair. There's another one...she seems younger than David though.

"Thank you..." said the girl, Laura was surprised and raised an eyebrow, "...for helping my brother..." They were siblings?

"No problem, I just did what was right." Laura said.

The little girl lifted her head revealing her face, Oh my gosh, I want to protect this small child, she had a smile that was infectious. Her eyes were like dark honey, although perhaps that was just because of how dark it was.

"You're a good bean!" said the little girl. Laura froze at that statement, as it warmed her heart. The little girl then dashed away from her sight, disappearing behind the stack of books. Perhaps this is the start of something interesting? Well I sure hope so. With that, Laura laid back down and had her mind fill with thoughts of borrowers as she drifted off to sleep.

------------Back to the present-------------

You sat there in stunned silence as Laura wrapped up her story.

“Wow, that’s crazy! I mean…you did see him again, right?” you asked, which cause Lily to chuckle a bit.

Laura smiled, “That’s a story for another time. You should come visit again, both of you, and I’ll tell you that story and more.” You and your friend got excited, “Anyway, you are here for a report correct? Well let’s get that report done and then you can head home.”

You nodded and took out your phone to write notes and record the conversation. Both Lily and your friend stayed quiet as Laura talked about her college years. Once her stories were finished, you gathered your things and friend, and Laura led you out of the house.

“Thank you so much for the stories…also…thanks for revealing that you knew about them. I thought I was alone. It’s nice to know that there are people you can trust.” You said with a small smile trying to make its way onto your face.

Laura nodded, “It’s nice to know there are people befriending them, and that they can make friends too. Anyway, you better be off before it gets dark. Come around anytime to here more stories!”

You nodded, “We will!” With that you walked away, waving goodbye to Laura. You and your friend had already decided and even talked about, going back one day to hear more about what happened between Laura and David.

#Story #g/t #giant/tiny #OC:David #OC:Laura #OC:Lily #borrowers #g/t story #is actually canon to David and Laura’s Story haha

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peachhyychenle · 3 years

Text

bloom bloom, heart | h.rj

'bloom bloom pow! the moment i met you, i felt like i'd explode. my heart fluttered. i hope it's not a dream' - bloom bloom, the boyz

pairing: florist!renjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

for the nostalgic melodies event hosted by @knet-bakery

playlist: bloom bloom the boyz, life still goes on nct dream, dive into you nct dream, cherry kisses chungha

a/n: my first fic for an event!! i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. also,, go check out everyone else that participated in the event!! oh, i also haven't had the time to proof-read this so, sorry lmao.

summary: flowers held many different meanings, and renjun loved that. from giving someone a baby's breath to giving them peonies, he loved how up front the message was, yet how hidden it was to someone that didn't understand their true meanings. You had always adored flowers, the colours, the scents, the meanings. And so, every week, you would go into Floral Dreams, to buy new flowers to draw, however Renjun would always throw in additional flowers to express his ever-growing crush on you, unbeknownst to him you understood every word.

If you had told Renjun this time last year he would be working part time as a florist, he would've simply laughed. But yet here he is, adorning a black apron, rearranging the plants in the display cabinet.

Floral Dreams was a great place for Renjun. It was never too busy, it was a five minute walk to his apartment and, thanks to Donghyuck, he has learned far more about flowers in the past month than he has learned about art history at his uni classes. He would never admit it to him, but Renjun was intrigued by the meanings each flower held.

From the bluebell to the yellow carnation, every flower held a different meaning. At first, Renjun couldn't care less. They were just flowers after all, their only job to him was to sit and look pretty. However the longer he spent in the floristry, the more his curiosity and his passion grew.

And now here he was, currently wiping down the counter he had just used to arrange a bouquet for somebody's birthday.

As he returned behind the till, the soft chime of the shop door bell rang. He glanced over and locked eyes with you. You seemed to be a regular. always popping in on a Wednesday afternoon, no matter the weather, to buy different pre-made bouquets. At first, Renjun found it odd how you would only buy one particular colour palette of flowers or even just a singular flower, however as you came in more often than not with a camera bag over your shoulder along with a sketchbook poking out the top of the tote bag you carried, it started becoming clear why you would buy them.

His current theories are that you are an artist that just really liked to paint flowers (specifically pink and yellow varieties) or you're a plant mum that just has an apartment filled to the brim with colourful flowers and plants.

His first hunch was correct.

A few months ago, you had moved into Neo City in order to attend the local university and study fine art. It was an interesting place for sure. It was a quaint town yet there was always something going on, whether it be different celebrations for certain holidays or events, to small annual carnivals and parades that would happen.

During your first week of moving in, you had explored the town centre, natural curiosity getting the better of you. That was when you stumbled upon Floral Dreams. The forest green painting on the window frames along with several broad leafed plants sat outside the shop, charmed you.

You remember when you first met Renjun. It was a rainy Wednesday about a month after you had moved. Your classes had just finished and you decided to buy a small bouquet. Something to brighten your dreary dorm room. And so you headed to Floral Dreams. When you stepped into the shop, instead of the cheery greeting you would usually get from Donghyuck, you found that he was busy talking to another guy, Renjun.

Both boys had briefly glanced towards the door, with Donghyuck giving a small wave, whilst the other boy shot you a smile. He was cute.

Returning the wave with your own, you continued into the shop, looking at all the flowers, taking in their colours and scents. Five minutes had gone by and you had chosen all the flowers you had wanted and walked up to the counter to place your order.

You rang the small bell placed on the countertop and after a few seconds, the new guy from earlier emerged from the back room and properly greeted and introduced himself, Renjun.

To say he was pretty was an understatement. He had a soft smile, kind eyes and long hair which made him look ethereal. His voice was melodic. So melodic that you only snapped back to reality halfway through his sentence.

You purchased the flowers and had another look around the empty shop, this time to admire the blossoming flowers. Back at the counter, Renjun would glance at you, whilst he wrapped the bouquet, his mind thinking about your smile and vibe whilst his hands carefully wrapped the bouquet up.

When he was finished, he rang the desk bell to catch your attention. He handed you the flowers and you were on your way. Not before turning back to Renjun and shooting him one last smile with a cheerful goodbye.

From the moment you walked in, Renjun knew his heart had exploded and his slightly dull world would never be the same again.

Week after week you would come back to the shop. It was always at 4pm and it was always an hour into Renjun's shift. You guys had managed to acquaint yourselves and make small talk, with the weather and how both of you had been, being the usual topic of choice.

Today Renjun was determined to make a move. Whether it was changing the topic to be something more in depth, or giving his number to you, he was definitely going to do something. And so when you walked up to the counter to place your order, Renjun made his move. He asked the question that had been on his mind. Why in the heavens did you buy so many flowers? The laughter that followed made Renjun's heart flutter, it was beautiful.

You then proceeded to explain the reason you moved and why almost all the store's sales were from you. Upon hearing that you went to the same university he did, Renjun was enthralled and began talking about his passion for art and the history behind famous pieces.

Much to his dismay, his hands had a mind of their own, and had wrapped up your selected bouquet far too quickly for his liking. Just as you were about to grab the bouquet, Renjun let out a 'wait!' which made you pause.

He ran into the back room and came out a moment later with some ribbon along with a couple of gardenias and blue salvias. 'It'll make the bouquet look amazing, trust me' he said with that smile you had fallen for.

Once he was done, you took the flowers, bid him adieu and left, ready to take photographs of this masterpiece.

As soon as you left, Renjun let out a sigh of content and his heart started to calm down. He had a crazy idea to use what he had learned from Donghyuck, and to confess to you in the form of flowers.

It was a bold move, one that made him feel happy with himself.

Over the next couple of months the same routine would occur. You arrived, picked out flowers, ordered the bouquet, Renjun would wrap them up, you would take them, then leave.

However, as time went on, you began noticing flowers that you hadn't picked out.

For example, you had ordered a bouquet with mainly red flowers, with a couple of white ones to make it more visually appealing, however you don't really remember picking up the white camellia. Or that time you noticed a couple of yellow jasmines mixed with your sunflowers.

You eventually thought of looking up what these flowers meant. You knew one of your old high school flowers loved gardening and would often talk about flower meanings, but you had never paid any mind to them. Oh how you wish you had.

And so that's how you spent the evening on different websites looking at different meanings for all the flowers you could remember buying, and the definitions.

The morning after, you had a brilliant idea.

That next week, you came in at the usual time with a list on your phone of all the flowers you had never actually bought. You suspected that a certain someone kept slipping different flowers into your bouquet, which was actually quite sweet to you, however you were going to surprise him.

You picked out various flowers that were composed for a yellow, blue and white theme. You included the yellow jasmines and gardenias, along with the white camellias and blue salvias. Additional flowers were added and made a stunning bouquet, the best you had imagined yet.

For how quiet the shop was, your heart was thumping a lot louder than usual, despite this you walked to the till with a small smile. The normal routine went on, Renjun making conversation with you. The topic for today was conspiracies and aliens, which would usually be quite interesting to you, but your mind was in a different place.

Just as Renjun was tying the last ribbon up, a 'wait!' escaped your lips. A slightly startled Renjun paused to look at you. Dashing away to the front of the store, you picked out a red rose and walked back to where he was waiting.

Much to his surprise, you added the rose to the centre of the bouquet, pushed the bouquet towards him and then pulled out a letter that had been in your coat pocket and pushed it across the counter in his direction.

He froze. Almost everyone knew what a red rose meant.

He opened the letter. All the flowers he had given you with their meanings were listed, along with the red rose.

I love you.

Underneath was a small paragraph. His already racing heart began to explode as he read the words 'let's go on a date tomorrow' followed with your number underneath.

He looked back up to you. You were currently looking everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t Renjun.

Placing the letter down, he came around from behind the desk and hugged you. He could feel you tense up under him, however in a matter of seconds, your arms were around him, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

From the moment he met you, his heart had exploded, the colours in his world seemed to be brighter whenever you were there.

He loved hearing your laugh, seeing your smile, being in your presence.

Time felt non-existent with you.

He loved you, as much as you loved him.

And that was all he needed.

#knetmelodies #knetbakery #nct #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct renjun #nct dream renjun #renjun #huang renjun #nct renjun scenarios #renjun scenraios #renjun drabbles #nct drabbles #nct timestamps #nct imagines #renjun imagines #renjun timestamps

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : west side polaroids

— word count : 2.4k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : the first day unbound by the table is marked by you both.

— warnings : none except minimal mentions of death and descriptions of blood

note: please please please go easy on me i have not written any john content in months but omg i adore the song west side by ariana .. issa dreamy vibe , but yeah i couldn’t decide the title so i merged them ..... anyways :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Life that does not revolve around the endless cycle of death and immorality is still new to John, the colour of crimson may have well been his favourite colour with how much he’d found it coating nearly every inch of his skin on a frequent basis. Some nights he’d awake and was sure he could see the stains of blood dried into his nails, though the flood of a bedside lamp would soon flush that worry away. Never had he been the one to imagine a life outside of what he knows, though as he stares at his image in the lengthy mirror before him, that’s what he observes in this moment. A free man.

A whole thirty days had passed since that fateful night when he secured his freedom from his .. job, wanting to allow a sufficient recovery time. Any longer and he knew you well enough to know you’d be breaking his front door down. Luckily, many of the cuts and furious bruises had almost completely healed, while some more stubborn than others were covered with a little more difficulty than he’d prefer. Still, he hopes that your reaction isn’t too explosive. With great reluctance he’d shared enough details with you to understand him and why he is the way he is, and should he not make it back you wouldn’t be left in limbo waiting for him to return. Knowing how often you found yourself worrying over him. Since when did I deserve something so good? he asks himself now and every day that greets him.

He never wants you to be left with a ghost. Especially when you had dug so deeply to prevent him from being consumed by the repetition to death and destruction by his ability to maximise results from his body when required.

Contact had been scarce between you both, and you accepted it. Knowing just what was transpiring as you went through your daily activities, wondering what John could be up to. Staying honest to yourself, your mind had conjured up the most ghastly images, a mental sketchbook where the next page would only be worse than the previous. Though, the moment you heard his voice through your mobile, you felt all the tight tension that wracked your limbs alleviate to nothing more than a dull ache that you have since forgotten.

John is a good liar however when he shared the intricate details of the life he had led, his eyes shone a truth and a pain of growing tired of all the slaughter he’d had a hand dipped into many a time. You believed him and you still do. In spite of this it’s still a difficult task for your mind to wrap itself around but for John? You would.

“ there you are, stranger! “ you greet warmly as you open your arms to finally embrace him after so long.

Your eyes shut while you relish the physical contact that you have sorely missed, you release a heavy breath of air as the moment you have been counting down to is here and you can grasp it with your fingertips. Sensations unreliant on your eyes hone in on the comfort you now feel, the smooth material you can feel to the smell of the cologne worn by John ⏤ a gentle smile drifts softly onto your features in response to the warm shield of solace envelopes you whole.

“ it took longer than I thought. “ he says as he shakes his head, you feel the action from your position

“ I'd say.. I thought I’d never see you again. “

“ I wouldn’t let that happen. “ a low whisper travels from his lips, you can feel his warm breath on you as he leans down, the action causing you to shiver at the faintly sinister tone that had been so close to overwhelming them.

In your heart you feel the strength in his words, it’s not a statement but a promise with all the faith and trust poured into them. Never had you met someone as dedicated and resolute as the man, you’d have called him a psychic because whenever he says something it often comes true, born into existence from his drive.

“ that is something I believe. “ you reply, your voice dulling ever so slightly in octaves.

A mighty stone wall had once been John, any attempt to get to know him proved a punishing task. Though, when a crack had become apparent it became obvious that a gentle touch had been a foreign concept for him but when he’d accepted it as real? The taste of what life could transform into made him want more, to open the door he’d never once entertained of unlocking. John is incredibly grateful you’d never become frustrated and left as soon as you’d arrived in his life, refusing to want another life without your touch.

“ so, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to get in that car you adore so, so much? “

With the barest of groans escaping his throat, he reluctantly disentangles himself from your form, already missing the contact with you. Turning, you move with an energetic vigour buzzing in your toes ⏤ from your position you fail to realise John has himself glued to your form with an affectionate warmth pooling in his eyes. The corner of his eyes fondly crinkle ever so slightly at the view.

A forceful wind erupts in the car as it picks up, you can feel the pleasant freshness dance carelessly on your skin, tickling the strands of hair left loose. It feels like a dream you muse as you shift your gaze to John, really beginning to understand the butterflies that all these television shows and movies talk about as you take in the concentration forging itself into his features as his eyes never leave the road. You don’t believe in the idea of destiny, but you can’t help but note how it feels how the stars modified and aligned themselves for you.

Recently, the purchase of a polaroid camera had arrived on your doorstep and today would be the best opportunity to try it out!

“ they’ll leave me alone ⏤ “ he stops suddenly as he assures the unspoken question between you both. Can we live in peace? “ ⏤ us alone now. “

“ you’re sure? It sounds like a shady business, what if someone doesn’t take note? “ worry bleeds into your expression as your foot begins to tap nervously, with only a peek into another society it has left you concerned when John is involved.

“ one thing my world thrives on is rules. Codes. “ he assures you gently, aware of how the other side of the world lives out its gruesome fantasies in real life shocks you.

A heavy hand lays dormant on your leg, coarse fingertips only moving every so often to draw trails on your clothed skin, as if to discover a depth that lays hidden from view. Of course, you both know that John knows every inch of you as you know yourself, many nights spent burning the entirety of the other into your minds with only the moonlight acting as your guiding light.

“ well, I can say that’s good to hear. “ is said by you with a short bout of nervous laughter. “ you can be sure? “

“ you have nothing to worry about. “ he remarks with confidence, attempting to soothe any and all of your fears you have in regards to your situation you both now share.

“ okay, “ you say with a nod, trying to affirm yourself of there being no phantoms pursuing the man behind you from the shadows. “ I trust you, John. I’m just being silly. “

“ you’re not being silly, I understand. “

Silence overwhelms the confined space you share, you take in just the lack of pretence in this moment. Nothing felt between you is forced, an affection woven with a glistening thread so naturally that the bond had been shaped into your reality before either of you had even realised. All John knew was that the curious feeling would be strengthened would he follow his emotions, and that is exactly what he did. Gratitude leaves his heart feeling full at the choice, finally realising that he can settle into a life of normality. An adventure he has never once had but a glow radiates within him at being able to share it with you.

A salty fragrance slowly seeps into your sense of smell, the sounds of seagulls erupting in the distance as you realise just where John is driving you. The chance, living in a city, to go to the beach is scarce thanks to the distance, so you can feel a childish elation swell deep inside of you. Running on this emotion, you pull out the camera held safely in the confines of your bag. Turning it around and shifting your body so suddenly you poke your tongue out and a brief, blinding flash of light erupts before disappearing from existence as soon as it came.

“ oh, now this is a good one! “ you cheer as your lips curve so smoothly into a satisfied grin as you gaze upon the small print held between your fingers.

John says nothing, only knowing of his amusement through the abrupt laughter and warmth blazing so intensely in his eyes.

“ you’ll have to put those into an album or something. “

“ that’s actually a good idea, or a scrapbook? “ you ask with the idea brightening your entire expression. “ documenting this notable day! “

“ yeah, exactly. “ he agrees, a short laugh is shared with you in response. In awe at your naivety, once he’d been envious of the trait ⏤ because you’d never have seen the things he has, but he understands it now. Neither of you can help what you were born into, but he can have control over the person he becomes and that does not include harbouring resentment over something so trivial. The idea seems so foolish now, as it has become something he has grown to adore.

The two of you exit the vehicle, effortlessly your hands find each other through the lengthy space to the other's warmth in yours. John is unable to stop himself from admiring facile peace that clouds your features as you stare upon the limitless majesty of which the deep richness of the blue of the ocean expands way beyond what the eye can distinguish. There’s no worry nor emotional strain colouring itself into burdening your relaxed features.

Your fingers get to work photographing the scene before you, wanting not to document the beauty before you itself but rather the sentiment that dominates the moment with a heavy hand that you’d dare not maneuver away.

From behind you can feel arms encapsulate you against his chest as he parts his lips, as if to say something, mutter some romantic words but he stops immediately. His being wanting to fully submerge himself in a feeling of being enveloped by the serenity. Right now, it’s just you in each other’s company with nothing of the outside world being able to scratch and claw at your attention. He can finally allow himself to be lost in something good, someone who does not see him as a monster, no matter how many atrocities have occurred by his hands. God forbid any ghastly spirits should try to end the dream of this life, he would go to the ends of the Earth to shroud you from any harm from the shadiness he once delved into.

He leaves a flutter of sweet kisses on the crown of your head, you allow a nonchalant smile to illuminate your lips, a soft giggle at the action hovers between you both. John moves his grip to release your waist from his hold, a slow movement towards the bulky camera that lays safe in your grasp. He steps back with a gentleness that he’d never imagined could be contained within his form, and lifts the lens up to his awaiting gaze. You turn just as he lays pressure onto the button, a flash greeting you as you do ⏤ you’re caught off guard, his favourite version of you.

“ come on, John! “ you complain, fingers move to fuss with the loose ends of your hair played with by the tempestuous winds.

“ I couldn’t resist, I’m sorry. “ he apologises with an accompanying smirk, fondly eyeing the photograph of you being caught unaware.

“ it better look good. “ a warning falls from your lips, of course, it’s an empty one ⏤ you wouldn’t spit any venom his way over something so inconsequential.

“ you always look perfect to me. “

With a flood of tenderness and devotion filling your vision, hands inch higher and higher as they snake up the chest of John ⏤ he knows the movement well, a permanent muscle memory that brings him closer to your lips. The touch is so faint, almost feather like, this kiss lacking the pleading need and instinctive desire from his direction ⏤ instead, this one he takes comfort in your presence. He knows you both now have all the time to get lost in one another.

“ you think you can get around me easily? “ you question him swiftly, a good natured air of audacity sparkles in your gaze as you stare up to the tall man.

“ I know I can. “ John promises, already missing the lingering touch you leave behind like a tattoo on his mouth.

“ you sound so sure.. “ you remark, an amused tone coats your words heavily in its substance as your fingertips trace nonexistent patterns in the back of his neck.

John fights himself to prevent a groan of pleasure at the action from clawing its way free from him, already feeling himself melting into your form. He’s surprised you’re not one person.

“ Because I am. “ he states, a lone nod accompanies the action before he descends once more, itching to feel the silk of your lips on his once more on his.

Lifting the camera up at a slant, the crashing of the waves drowns out the click of the camera, he takes out the physical memory of this period of tranquility and adoration. You take it from him, your sight examining the image before you. If you’d had doubts before, you would no longer ⏤ a permanent reminder in picture form of the intimacy and care you share equally.

This is a day to remember.

“ I guess you’re correct. “

#john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fluff

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lunarianillusion · 4 years

Text

A change in fate

a maribat fanfic

Chapter 02

Along with the changes to her room, Marinette had also changed her wardrobe. She now wore a cropped baby blue hoodie over a grey-purple shirt, that matched her leggings. Over her leggings she wore a high waisted demin coloured skirt with matching heeled ankle boots. A new larger purse, more a satchel really, hung from her shoulder. It allowed her to carry her sketchbook and other tools more easily. Her hair now mostly hung lose over her shoulders with two braids coming from the sides and connecting at the back of her head.

Once she was ready Marinette walked at an easy pace to the agreed meeting spot. Duusu Had taken to hiding within her hood, so that they could drink in all of the sights. Being both not used for a hundred or so years and being broken, made this a real treat for the little peafowl. Marinette could practically feel the little god vibrating with joy, to be outside in the world again.

The sun was shining through the clouds and a soft breeze made the early autumn leaves rustle in the trees, as the two reached the park. Marinette could already spot the red-haired omega sitting on a bench close to the pond in the shade of a willow tree. He was fidgeting with a pencil and his sketch book lay on his lap. His posture looked tense.

By the look of it he too had a wardrobe change. Marinette was gonna bet that Marc had helped with the ensemble. Those two were inseparable. He wore a white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt with grey stripes on his chest. Faded navy pants and a jacked tied around his waist. A black and white backpack with rainbow details sat beside him.

“Hey, Nathaniel,” Marinette called out, gaining said boy’s attention as she neared.

“Hey, Marinette,” Nathaniel greeted, his shoulders losing the smallest amount of tension. “Glad you could come. I hope you weren’t too busy.”

“Circumstances made it so that I had nothing scheduled today. But I do hope you were not lying about it being important. Otherwise I will send the Fury’s of art upon thee,” The blue-eyed girl exclaimed in a posh voice. Marinette hoped that it would lighten some of the tension that was flowing through the air and it seemed to work. There was no need for an Akuma today.

“Oh, I beg mercy of thee. Do not condemn me to such a fate, for I would not dare to break my vow,” Nathaniel exclaimed in kind, placing his hand on his heart. It made both of the omegas chuckle and the hidden kwami purr softly.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Marinette asked, as nonchalant as possible. As she sat down on the bench and pulled out a thermos from her satchel. Which held the gods elixir, coffee. “It sounded quite urgent from your text.”

“Yeah, it is,” Nathaniel said sheepishly, scratching his neck. “But it is not an easy subject to start a conversation with. Or to talk about in general, I believe. So, let me first ask you how you are feeling. I know you have probably had this question asked to many times already. But I know what it is like to be akumatized and of the nightmares that follow so don’t try to say that all is just hunky-dory great.”

Marinette hummed at his words, raising an amused eyebrow at the last bit. Before turning her gaze away from the redhead. Her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any uninvited guests. While she knew Nathaniel would keep to his word the scent anxiety kept her slightly on edge. Paranoia had settled deep into her over the past few years. Only the little hidden kwami’s presence was what kept her calm. For Duusu would inform her if someone with bad intentions was to come close.

After a moment of thought Marinette answered. “I was a bit shaken after the whole event, who wouldn’t? All considered though, I think I am doing pretty good.”

After the whole reveal of her being a true soul, Duusu had helped sort out her emotions. They had given her a few suggestions on how to more healthily coupe with the more negative ones. Who knew writing your problems down on a slip of paper and then watching it burn could be so therapeutic.

She turned her gaze back to Nathaniel. “As for the subject of our meeting. Just be blunt about and we will go from there. Keeping it bottled up and it will only stress you out over time and I really don’t wanna deal with an akuma right now,” She accentuated the last part of her statement.

“Yeah, that would really kill the mood wouldn’t it,” Nathaniel sighed. He took a small breath to collect his courage as Marinette took another sip of her coffee. Then Nathaniel bluntly stated: “I know that you are the original ladybug.”

Cue spit-take from Marinette. Mental panic has reached its peak! Abort!! ABORT!!!

“Uhm…I don’t know wha-”

“Don’t even try Marinette. The amount of times I saw ladybug land on your balcony only for you to leave through the front door and vice versa. Was a big enough give away. After that your physiques just matched up,” Nathaniel boldly interrupted. Leaving Marinette in a stunned wide-eyed stare. “Hey, I might not be a fashion designer, but I am an artist and have an eye for these details just like you.” He said quickly with a small stutter. Since he was feeling a little unnerved at her wide-eyed stare. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

“How long have you known?” The female omega asked tentively, her scent spiked with anxiety. Her body language screamed that she was ready to bolt.

“For maybe seven months now,” Nathaniel replied carefully.

“Did you tell anyone?” Marinette asked further, the tension not leaving her.

“I told no one, not even Marc. I know of the importance and reasons behind a hero’s secret identity,” Nathaniel told her sincerely, allowing Marinette to breathe a small sigh of relief. The redhead then let out a small growl of annoyance. “Unlike a certain tabloid reporter and two-faced liar.” Now that that really got the noir haired girl’s attention even more than him knowing her secret.

“The spell broke,” Marinette whispered as his words settled into her brain as her eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, in surprise. While she had been frightened at the fact of him knowing her secret, but he had not told anyone. She could tell that he was honest in the fact that he had not told anyone. Since otherwise her identity would have probably been public news by now. Secrets like this would spread around like wildfire with the slightest slip off the tongue.

So, she was now more interested in the fact that he called Rossi a liar. It meant that he had broken through her spell and she wanted to know how he came to this revelation. Had it come after he had fond out about her hidden I.D. or was it something else. She was practically vibrating with a curious need to know and asked him about it.

Nathaniel turned his eyes to the sky, several emotions running trough them. Most prominent was the look of shame and pain. “It did weaken her hold over me, but what really made me realise she was a liar was when she promised to introduce me to one of my idols. One I know to have passed away. I won’t say their name, but that really broke the illusion for me,” He spoke bitterly.

Marinette let out a pained hiss at that. Knowing how painful it is to have someone disrespect your inspirational idols in that manner. She softly rubbed his shoulder in comfort and gave a small apology. Nathaniel let out a gloomy laugh and turned his eyes to the ground. “You have nothing to apologize for Marinette. I should be the one to apologize. For never mastering up the courage to stand up for you even after I realized Lie-la’s grandeur was nothing more than empty words. And I am truly sorry for that. Because after everything you have helped me with, I really should have.”

Marinette felt her heart flutter at his apology and then he just kept on rambling about how he should have stood up for her. How he should have trusted her. Making her feel hot tears gather in her eyes. She had waited so long to have one of her friends back and here was one. Trying his best to make amends and unlike the rest of her class, he had never hurt her in the same way the others had. He always remained kind to her even before he knew of her secret. He may have been afraid to stand up but did not try to ruin her life like the others. So, she had no trouble pulling him into a hug. At first it shocked the boy, but he gratefully returned the gesture.

“Don’t blame yourself. You did not do anything wrong. You did not turn your back to me like the others did. I don’t blame you for not standing up against Rossi. You would have only painted a target on your back, and she would have made you feel miserable. Like with me,” Marinette whispered. “And I need to thank you for keeping my secret all this time. It means the world to me.” Nathaniel tightened his hold on the girl as a few tears of relief and gratitude fell from his eyes, as the words left her mouth. Duusu nuzzled against her neck in comfort. A feeling of pride washing over the kwami of emotion at his little bird.

_____________________________________________________________________

After they let go of each other they settled back into more comfortable sitting positions. The atmosphere feeling lighter than it had been around them for a long while.

“If it is okay to ask,” Nathaniel spoke carefully. “Is the new ladybug permanent? Because if I am being honest, I don’t really trust her.”

Marinette let outa pained sigh. “I made a grave mistake and because of that this new ladybug has the ladybug miraculous. I don’t know how to rectify this mistake, but I will find a way. That is a promise.”

“You always find a way,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll keep my eyes open as well. I might not be the bravest, but I want to help. After everything I need to help. Even the tiniest bit.” Marinette wanted to say he did not have to. He did not let her say it. “You have forgiven me, but now I need to forgive myself. So let me help. Paris is my home to.”

It made Marinette smile as she felt the sincere emotion and determination flood of her fellow omega. “Now if only I knew how Lie-la is capable of keeping our classmates and others at her bag and call. That might help take bit of stress of my back,” She sighed. Her eyes scanning the sky, hoping it held the answers.

This made Nathaniel scratch his neck again sheepishly. “Marc and I may have a theory on how she keeps everyone under her spell, actually,” He mumbled off.

Marinette whipped around so fast it was a wonder she did not get any whiplash. She grabbed the redhead’s shoulders and looked straight into his turquoise eyes. Her own silvery blue crystal eyes were ablaze with a cold fire. “Please explain how that two-faced bitch is killing all the fucking braincells of the people around us and turning them into fucking sheep,” Her voice had an icy chill to it that sent shivers up the Nathaniel’s spine.

“I didn’t know you could curse,” Nathaniel said trying to curl away from the internally raging female omega.

It resulted in Marinette raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Trust me when I say Chloe can swear like a bloody sailor. So, I learned a few things from her,” She huffed a small smirk on her face. She then let go of his shoulders, giving the redhead some room to breath, as a curios gaze replaced the once cold fire. “Please share. My curiosity is going to kill me.”

Before Nathaniel could start telling her about the theory however, a loud explosion penetrated the air. Both omegas turned to the source of the sound. A good distance away they saw a person a top a glider. They cackled madly as they threw loud explosives around.

Really Hawkmoth, can’t they have one day of peace?

The answer: Nope.

“How about we continue this conversation tomorrow over lunch. Chloe and Marc can join in on the theory. I do believe Chloe will be thrilled to know how Lie-la is capable of maintaining the utterly ridiculous situation at school,” Marinette proposed. Her eyes never leaving the new akuma.

“You are going to investigate, aren’t you?” Nathaniel asked nervously. Marinette simply nodded not looking at him. He sighed, “I won’t be able to change your mind, will I? How can I help?”

“It would be best for you to get to safety,” Marinette advised. Turning to look him directly in the eye and stopping him from objecting. “You have no need to worry about me. I still have an ace up my sleeve. So, trust me,” She assured with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Nathaniel stared uneasily at his fellow omega before nodding. “Alright but be careful, okay, I better see you at school tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said before grabbing his stuff and turning away to go to one of the akuma shelters. Leaving Marinette alone.

Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, to make sure the coast was clear, she asked Duusu to come out. “Are you ready?” the little god asked. Marinette smirked in reply. Let’s see what they were capable of.

“Duusu, Spread my Feathers”

Authors note: hey i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. a few people have been asking me about adding them to my taglist and being honest i am not sure of how to do that. i am still very new with tumblr, but once i finally stop being dumb i'll be sure to do that. i hope you will stick around to the rest of the story. stay save.

#maribat #timari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #nathaniel kurtzberg #ml duusu #duusu #miraculous ladybug #peacock miraculous #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years

Text

Bio!Dad Bruce Day 3- Siblings

While Marinette and Bruce had been spending the last few years getting to know each other, he had barely said anything about her to his boys. Many times, he would wait until everyone was busy and slip off to Paris. Three months ago, when he had taken Marinette around Gotham, had been the first time she had come to his home. Of course, she had met Dick, but only briefly. Now, as Thanksgiving approached, Bruce wondered if it would be too much to ask her to join him. To ask her if she wanted to meet her brothers.

After hesitating one last time, he hit the dial button on his phone and held his breath. This would go either really well, or really, really poorly. When he had first gone to discuss with Tom and Sabine, he had told them stories of his boys. Now, he wondered if he had made the right choice to hold off on introducing them.

“Hello? Bruce? Is everything alright?” Sabine’s worried voice at the other end of the line brought him out of his thoughts.

“Sabine, yes, everything is fine. I was calling because I had a question for you.” At the woman’s affirming hum, he continued. “would Marinette be interested in joining me and my family in celebrating Thanksgiving this year? I know that you don’t, but I thought it might be the perfect time to introduce her to the others.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he waited. Bruce started to tap his fingers anxiously but refused to open his mouth. If he did…who knows what he would say. The sound of Tom and Sabine talking in French filtered down the line and Bruce worked to keep his mind away from their conversation. Although he wanted his daughter to join them, he refused to eavesdrop on the discussion. At the sound of Sabine clearing her throat, Bruce turned his mind back to the situation at hand.

“Bruce, we’ve talked it over and although we have no problems with Marinette joining you, we would like to leave the final decision up to her.” The man agreed and as both parties hung up the phone, he reminded himself to be positive about the whole thing.

When her parents told her what her Father had proposed, Marinette had been hesitant. Just a few weeks ago, she had received the Ladybug miraculous. The girl was a hesitant hero, but that didn’t stop her from protecting the people who had set their faith in her. After extensively talking the situation over with Tikki, her Kawmii, the teen announced to her parents that she would like to go. That evening, Tikki had slipped out after the girl was asleep and had visited the Guardian. When she had returned, there were a pair of glasses accompanying the small being.

Two months later, the small girl has pulling a suitcase behind her as she hurried through the airport. Although she had arrived in plenty of time, she wanted to be at her gate with time to spare. International travel was not the time to be late. As she sat there, her sketchbook in hand she glanced about. Fall was one of her favorite seasons. To those who didn’t know her, it always came as a surprise, but the accessories were always so diverse, and the colors always made her look fantastic. Just because pink was her favorite color didn’t mean she didn’t have other things in her closet.

A call for her gate pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and she gathered her things and clung to her sketchbook as she got in line to board. Since her father had paid for the ticket, she had not had the chance to dissuade her father from buying her a first-class ticket. At least, she consoled herself, she got to be comfortable on her 8-hour fight.

When she walked out of the Gotham airport, Marinette looked for the man her father had introduced as his butler (it was times like that when she remembered that her father was rich). When she saw him, she hurried over,

“Hello, Alfred!” the older man smiled down at her a gently took her suitcase from her and guided her out to the car that was waiting for them. As she climbed in, Marinette noticed a sleepy teen a who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than herself sitting in the back seat. Alfred gestured for her to settle in as he moved around to the trunk to load her luggage.

“Master Timothy!” When Alfred called the boy to attention, Marinette used the distraction to check on Tikki the small being gave her a thumbs (flipper??) up and the girl leaned tiredly back against her seat, happy to be out of Paris. Now that he was done with his discussion with Alfred, the boy (Timothy?) turned to her with a smile.

“Marinette, right?” at her nod his smile grew, “it’s nice to finally meet you! The last time you were here this summer I was traveling and wasn’t able to meet you.” As the car made its way towards the manor, Tim started to pull her into conversation. First, on her interests and hobbies, then they started to devolve into things they had found on the internet. By the time they made it to the manor, she was comfortable with Tim (wait-he was her brother. A brother!) and he had started to become more aware of their surroundings as well.

While Alfred brought her things up to the room she used when visiting her father, Tim guided her into a den that was hidden away in the maze-like manor. There, Marinette was met with her oldest brother, Dick Grayson, as well as a guy with a shock of white hair. As she made her way fully into the room, she noticed a girl with blonde hair sitting happily inside as well. The group got up as they entered, Dick bounding over to wrap her in a hug while the other two gathered nearby to greet her afterwards. When her brother (!) released her form his hug, the other guy strode forward, a tense smile on his face.

“Marinette?” she nodded, suddenly very nervous. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jason.” He flashed her a more genuine smile before stepping back. The blond had just hurried up to her when the telltale sound pf her father’s steps could be heard outside the door. As soon as he had cleared the doorway, she flew at him. the aww that she was sure came from Dick just made her smile victoriously.

The next day, the family of five (plus the blonde who she learned was named Stephanie) set about decorating the manor under the direction of Alfred. Dick cracked Jokes and Jason grumbled under his breath as he was handed a garland of leaves and told to help Marinette as she used her artistic eye to her advantage.

As they chattered, she turned to her father “why are we decorating for fall still, if it’s almost winter?” her question caught the attention of the others and as Bruce smiled at her, Dick jumped at the chance to explain the holiday to her.

As he talked, he started to light up in excitement. Marinette smiled at the way he emoted and brought what he was saying to life.

The next day, Thursday dawned bright and clear. The air had a nip to it and as Marinette settles outside to enjoy the early morning sunshine, she took a deep breath and sighed in happiness. Three years ago, she had found out who her father was. Now, she was here with the rest of his family (!) And was going to celebrate her first holiday with them.

To her, it made it all a little more real.

When Dick came out to get her, he brought news. Over the next few hours, the rest of the family oils arrive. He smiled at the way she lit up and cautioned her that they could be a bit much at times. As they made their way back inside the manor, he made sure she knew that if she ever got overwhelmed, he would help make sure that she was comfortable in the chaos that was to come.

i just wanted to hop over and let y’all know that this probably will be a two parter that i will finish later this month. I’m sorry the ending was a little rough...

#bio!dad bruce wayne #b!dbwm2020 #My writing #i still cant believe i did this to myself #opps #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Klaine one-shot “Artistic Differences” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Kurt and Blaine have known each other all their lives. They've loved each other almost as long. But as Blaine uses his love for Kurt as inspiration for his music, Kurt has yet to reciprocate. And since painting is Kurt's entire world, Blaine is worried about what that might mean for the two of them. (2703 words)

Notes: I had been writing this for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'opinion'. I finally finished it. Wee! XD

Read on AO3.

Baby, you're not alone...

'Cause you're here with me...

And nothing's ever gonna bring us down...

'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you...

And you know it's true...

It don't matter what'll come to be...

Our love is all we need to make it through...

Blaine stops singing when he notices an echo haunting his lyrics, lingering on the high notes for longer than written. He listens with eyes closed, smiling at his keyboard.

His boyfriend Kurt, humming behind the melody.

Blaine has been ironing this song out for the past three hours now but Kurt hasn't complained once about the constant stopping and starting.

He never does.

Blaine peeks over his shoulder as he continues to play with the harmonies and watches Kurt, focused on the canvas in front of him, swaying to the rhythm of the music, happily sandwiched between his two passions - art and music.

It's a mild and sunny Saturday - a whole day devoted to cleaning up commissions and tying loose ends on weekly projects before their one day off together. Blaine and Kurt share a studio space - normally unheard of for an artist and a musician, but they make it work. It helps that they've known one another for so long that being alone together is the same as being alone with themselves. That also means they get the inside scoop on what the other is working on long before the public does.

And what they're not working on, which has begun to bother Blaine.

Blaine adores everything his talented boyfriend comes up with. Even regarding his more controversial works, there isn't a thing Kurt has painted that Blaine finds objectionable. Kurt puts his heart and soul into every painting, no matter who it's for, and no matter the subject. A writer from Artforum once wrote: "Kurt Hummel goes beyond the veil to showcase not just the external, but the core of every subject - their drives and motivations. It pairs nicely with the transparency of his own soul, which shines through the gouache and the gesso to leave the viewer with a tangible piece."

And therein lies the root of Blaine's problem.

A glance at one of Kurt's canvasses and the world knows everything it needs to about what he loves.

But one subject in particular has gone wholly unrepresented.

“How come you've never painted a portrait of me?” Blaine asks.

"Hmm... what's that, love?" Kurt mutters, switching out brushes, then moving from a blob of Titanium White to a smear of Winsor Blue.

"How come you've never painted a portrait of me?" Blaine rises off his piano bench and relocates to the wooden folding chair behind Kurt's easel in the hopes of pulling his attention a bit. "You've been an artist for as long as I've known you, and I've known you your entire life. But not once have you ever painted a portrait of me."

“Why do I need to? I have you right here," Kurt says, pretending to bop the tip of Blaine's nose with his brush. "Besides, these aren’t personal." His gaze bounces between the three canvases set on easels in an arc in front of him. "They’re bought and paid for.”

"But what about your private stuff? You've shown me your sketchbooks and your digital art files. Unless you have some hidden folder marked 'secret boyfriend art' that I've yet to come across, there's not a single piece of me in any of your work."

Kurt doesn't steer his gaze away from the apple he's adding highlights to to acknowledge his pouty boyfriend, but the corner of his mouth hitches. "If you say so, dear."

"I know so," Blaine grumps, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping back in the chair so hard he nearly topples it over.

"That's your opinion."

"You're evading."

"Is it really so important to you?"

"Yes! It would be nice to be immortalized by my artist boyfriend!"

Kurt snickers. "Are you that much of a narcissist?"

"Your art is important to you! More than that - it's your life! You paint everything that you love! You've made dozens of paintings of Finn, your father, your mother, your Navigator... "

"My Navigator is my baby. It deserves love. I don't get to drive it much living in the city," Kurt defends. "Besides, those paintings I posted on Instagram landed me a huge contract with Lincoln, and that paid for our month-long tryst to Bali. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'm not saying I'm not grateful... " Blaine pauses, the smile on his face a souvenir from thirty straight days of overindulgence in sex and alcohol. "I think I more than proved that on that private beach? Under the moonlight?"

"Yeah, you did," Kurt growls, silently hoping that will be the end of this discussion.

"But... " Blaine picks up and Kurt's heart sinks.

No luck.

"... nowhere am I present in your work. Not that I've seen. Not even in the abstract. And that makes me think... "

"Think what?" Kurt mutters, his playful attitude fading the longer this conversation drags on.

Blaine sighs, realizing how much like a spoiled toddler he sounds. But he's in too deep to stop now. "That you don't expect me to be around long."

Kurt's snicker turns into a full-blown chortle. "We've been together forever! You staked a claim on me in kindergarten! Are you suddenly going somewhere?"

"Can't you take this seriously?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!"

Blaine huffs. "Great. So my feelings are ridiculous."

"No, Blaine, your feelings are valid. This argument is ridiculous. Believe it or don't, you don't know everything about me. Or my work. What does it matter what I put on a canvas? I told you that I love you! That I would always love you! I tell you over and over and over! Those are my words! My truth! Listen to my truth!"

"B-but what if you change your mind?" Blaine grimaces when that toddler inside him begins throwing an all-out tantrum.

"Then I change my mind!" Kurt groans, slamming his free hand down on an open tube of Dandelion Green, sending a thick ribbon of paint a good four feet. "I'm allowed to change my mind! And so are you! But I don't see that happening!"

"Then why won't you marry me?"

Kurt pulls a face, probably without thinking about it. "Because I'm not very fond of marriage."

"Why not? Your parents had a great marriage! And your father has a wonderful second marriage!"

"But your parents don't have a very good marriage, do they? Nor your older brother, who's been divorced twice already! " Kurt argues, frustration causing him to forget himself and clean his stained hand on the untucked hem of his shirt instead of a rag. That should be a huge red-flag for Blaine to back down, yet he doesn't. Common sense? Sorry, don't know her. "And the national average isn't that great, either. Doesn't it mean more that I choose to stay with you instead of feeling obligated to?"

Blaine doesn't have an answer for that, even though the answer is obviously yes. Of course, it does. And in high school, that would have been enough to shut Blaine up. But admitting to that feels too much like conceding, and this one time, this is an argument he wants to win. "Did you hear that song I've been working on?" Blaine asks, switching gears so quickly, it puts Kurt on edge.

"Yes," Kurt replies, his voice becoming tight quickly. "It's lovely."

"I wrote it for you."

"Thank you. It sounds wonderful. Another huge hit in the making."

"It's the 15th song I've written in your honor."

"Wow," Kurt says dryly, predicting the direction this is heading. "That many?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's an incredibly kind and loving gesture, one that I didn't know required reciprocation."

"It doesn't require reciprocation. But it would be nice."

Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine's agenda. Tit for tat. Is that how this is supposed to work? "From what I remember, those songs made you a pretty penny."

"So?"

"So, it's not like you wrote them for me and kept them between us. Most of those songs are chart-toppers."

"But I didn't release them for the money! I wouldn't care if they didn't make me a dime! I put them on the albums because I'm not afraid to let the world know how I feel about you!"

Kurt's brow furrows as he fights through a blooming headache to decode that declaration. Once he gets it, he gasps. "I'm not hiding you away if that's what you're implying! You go with me EVERYWHERE! Every gallery opening, every art show! There have been articles written about our relationship! You're no dirty little secret!"

"I never said I was."

"No?" Kurt chuckles bitterly. "You're sure implying it a great deal!"

"That's not what this is about."

"You're right. It's not. Blaine!" Kurt tosses his brush into a mug of water and starts pacing the floor. "I am a gay artist walking a very fine line."

"I'm a gay artist, too!" Blaine says, offended.

"But you're a musician. And a songwriter. Musicians are supposed to use love as their muse. Writing about your relationship is expected... unless you're Taylor Swift, apparently."

"Yeah. What's up with that?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. The point is that the second I make a piece of art about our relationship in any way, shape, or form, I'm afraid that's all it will be about, no matter what I intend."

"Isn't art supposed to be subject to interpretation?"

"That's just it! If I hint that my art has anything to do with you, that will become the only interpretation. Because too many straight people see the homosexual experience as solely about the right to fuck who we want to fuck and nothing else. I make a portrait about you or dedicated to you, and after that... " Kurt's eyes leave Blaine's face, scanning the room and his canvasses all around for help making his argument. He finds a painting of a forest they hiked through in Bali and stops there "... a tree that I paint will no longer be just a tree. It will become a symbol. In a forest of evergreens, if one needle is slightly browner than the rest because the paint oxidizes weirdly or whatever, then it'll be about you and me on the skids and nothing else. And I don't want that to happen."

Blaine turns in his chair to find the painting Kurt is staring at. On the surface, it's trees, dirt, and sky, but underneath, it's much more than that. That painting of their beloved paradise is perfection - so much so that he can feel the sun on his face, the breeze kissing his cheek, smell the sunscreen on his skin. "I understand what you're saying, but... "

"But?" Kurt grinds out between his teeth. This is the frustrating thing about arguing with Blaine. Even when he says he sees Kurt's point of view, he doesn't seem to really.

And when he's not winning, he gets dismissive.

"... I think you're overthinking things a little."

"And you're not?"

"Another evade," Blaine says, pointing at him in a way reminiscent of his brother's only acting technique.

Kurt grabs the hair at his temple and pulls to keep from flinging the palette in his hand like a frisbee at Blaine's head. "Isn't it more important that you know how I feel about you? You inspire me every day! Your love, your support, your music - they feed my soul! But do I have to plaster it on a wall to make it real?"

"That's kind of an empty question because you don't! There are no paintings of me! Not even in our apartment! And I'm sorry, but I think that's very telling!"

Kurt nods, his lips pulled taut. "You're right, Blaine. Not one. And it is very telling." He drops his palette on his work table and circles the room, grabbing finished canvases and carrying them over. He positions them purposefully, placing some under UV lights he has mounted to runners on the ceiling.

"What... what are you doing?" Blaine asks with worry, wondering if Kurt is about to do something hasty, something that will ruin his paintings, waste all those hours of work, jeopardize the money he has yet to collect for them.

Kurt doesn't answer.

He doesn't even look at him.

He works silently, his shoulders rigid, his footsteps heavy as he collects paintings Blaine forgot about, paintings that had made Blaine bristle because they were of places they had been to together, things they had made a point to see only with each other, but not a one included him. Those Kurt flips upside down.

He swipes a squeeze bottle of clear liquid from his army of supplies. It could be water. It could be paint thinner. Blaine doesn't know, but he's not certain he wants to find out. He's about to leap off his seat to stop him, but Kurt switches off the overhead lights, turns on the UVs, and Blaine stops. He watches in horror as Kurt douses the flipped canvases in fluid, but the paint doesn't run. Whatever is in that bottle, it sticks, but only in certain areas, and before it dries completely, Kurt dusts the paintings with a fine powder, one that brings hidden images to life beneath the lights.

“Oh my God,” Blaine mutters, stepping back to get a better look.

Every painting, in one way or another, is of him. Of them. And not just recently. There are images of them from college, high school... middle school. There are profiles of Blaine in the negative space between flowers of one painting, and in the clouds of another. A fluorescent image of teenaged him playing guitar to a silhouette of Kurt sitting beside him. There are shadows of them dancing, singing, even a daring one of them making love up against a wall.

And the flipped landscapes? Their vacation pictures, as it were? The glowing dust reveals portraits hiding in plain sight, painted upside down and invisible to the naked eye. All of these images, Kurt painted in ways where no one would detect them if they weren't looking for them. If they didn't know they were there.

And they are in every. single. one.

Now that he's seen this, it's safe to assume all of Kurt's works carry similar Easter eggs, even paintings long gone.

"Why... why didn't you tell me about this?" Blaine asks, too stuck on stupid to move, walk from painting to painting and examine them properly.

"Why did I need to? I love you. I've told you. What else did I need to prove?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, ashamed of himself. What an imbecile he is! Kurt is absolutely right. He loves him! He didn't need to prove it! The hurt Blaine felt - that was on him. It wasn't Kurt's responsibility to fix it. There isn't a day that goes by where Kurt doesn't show his love to Blaine in one way or another. Blaine didn't need this. He really didn't.

And right now, he doesn't feel he deserves it.

On a side note, how wrapped up in his own crap has he been that here, in this space that they share, where proximity has forced Kurt to memorize every song Blaine has been writing for his latest album while he paints, that he never realized just how frickin' talented his boyfriend is!?

"Kurt... " Blaine finally finds the strength to take a step forward, drawn to that ghostly image of them making love. It's a simple shadow of the moment, but it evokes a powerful memory "... these are incredible. How did you... ?" Blaine expects an answer before he can finish. Kurt is rarely shy about discussing his work.

Though Blaine should use this opening to his advantage - apologize since those should have been the first words out of his mouth.

But he gets nothing.

"Kurt?" Blaine looks over his shoulder in search of his boyfriend, ready to make amends.

But Kurt is gone.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #blangst

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shadowturtlesstuff · 4 years

Text

You are in love

cressworth modern au, based on you are in love-taylor swift for thomas’s birthday

i have dress from audrey rose’s perspective written but not fully edited yet so i’m still working on that as well as the asks but they should be done soon. enjoy!

I wake early, sliding out of bed so I do not disturb Thomas or our cat. I quickly put on one of Thomas's jumpers and made my way into the kitchen. He had mentioned a few months back that his birthday usually went uncelebrated by his family, and since I had met him a month after his birthday last year and that he'd made my own incredibly special, I have been planning to return the sentiment all month.

I pour myself a coffee as Sir Isaac jumps onto the counter, purring at me for food. Dacina and Illeana will be arriving back in London soon, my own family should be waking up soon and preparing for tonight. A few of our friends will come too, as will our cat. I’m sure if I didn't bring Sir Isaac with us Thomas would make us go back home to pick up ‘our son’. Which means I have a few hours with Thomas all to myself before we spoil him rotten at the party.

“Audrey Rose?” I hear Thomas call from our bedroom, tiredness lacing his words. We’d stayed up late watching films together, then Thomas had read to me, one of his romance novels, then we'd fallen asleep in each other's arms. I was blissfully content to stay there all day if I didn't have to ensure everything would be set up right for his party.

Thomas still struggled opening up to people other than me, and he struggled to believe he was a good person worthy of any love. Some days were better, but I found him with a strange look on his face sometimes whilst he looked at me. It was normally when I was doing such a mundane task, or something ridiculous, but I'd always catch him with such a vulnerable face it made my heart melt. And made me kiss him to try and convince him how much I loved him.

“In here!” I shout back, pouring myself coffee and then dealing with Sir Isaac. I heard Thomas move, slowly making his way to the kitchen. I check the time on my phone, and the message from Dacina saying they are at the airport. He hasn't seen his sister in a few years, she's been travelling the world as a private investigator with her girlfriend, and I know how much he misses her.

I turn to find Thomas on the stool, his messy hair and tired face making him appear so much younger than he is and also utterly adorable. His messy hair is my favourite look. I reach to press a kiss to his temple. Thomas isn't a morning person, he prefers keeping me locked in his arms until we have to get up so we aren't late for work. “Why are we up so early?” he complains, taking my hand in his. He narrows his eyes at me slightly. “You planned something didn't you?” he sighs at my smirk. I'm surprised he didn't figure out anything sooner.

“Of course I did. But before we do anything, what would you like for breakfast?”

“Wadsworth, do we need to be awake now or is it whatever you've planned occurring later tonight?”

“Tonight but-”

He stands and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his head in the crook of my neck. He whines for emphasis and I can't help laughing at his dramatic nature. We stand for a minute, him holding me and me stealing his warmth until he pulls back and attempts to drag me back to bed.

“Do you not want your gifts?” This makes him stop slightly and face me.

“You got me something?”

“Many things. Some for now, some for the event later.”

His curiosity gets the better of him and he sits back down. Sir Issac jumps onto his lap, purring. I have two gifts planned for now, and two for the party. Panic flows through me at the thought he won't like them, but it is too late to change them. I slid the box to him that was hidden in one of our kitchen counters. He smiles warmly at me, I can tell by the sad look in his eye he is wondering why I'm going through all the effort as he messes with the ribbon.

“Open it then Thomas.” Slowly he pulls the ribbon. He refuses to meet my eyes, and he hesitates in opening it. “I love you Thomas. More than I can comprehend. When I look at you, or think about you, my fears ebb away, the ghosts that haunt me leave.”

He opens the lid, looks at the gifts. I got him a notebook and a sketchbook as well as a novel. I'd contemplated what would mean the most to Thomas, what he loved and what he needed. We both work for my uncle as morticians, so a notebook is always useful but I want him to use it for himself. And the sketchbook was something that screamed something Thomas would adore. It was black with little roses hidden on the cover. He ran his finger over them. I'd always loved watching Thomas draw, he was incredibly talented but he rarely drew anything for himself.

The novel was his favourite book. I'd managed to get a special edition of it, and I’d written inside the cover pages. Whilst I preferred reading autonomy books or science books, Thomas preferred romance novels. We've formed this new habit of him reading them to me before bed, or him talking to me about the book over breakfast. He'd tried to get me to read this book on my own for ages, so I finally gave in. I cried when I finished it. I understood why Thomas loved it. He saw himself in the main character, this perceived monster without feeling, when all along he was seeking acceptance. So I knew that this would mean alot to him. To us.

The silence clung to the air, but despite my heart racing fast I could feel Thomas's love radiating off him as he picked up the book. Opening it I held my breath as I watched him read what I wrote. As I watched a tear slide down his cheek. His eyes found mine once he finished and he smiled at me. “You are my best friend Wadswoth. I hope you never forget that fact.” His voice is no more than a whisper as he sets the book down, walks around the island and envelopes in a tight hug. As he held me I understood why people went crazy when in love. The feeling of having someone you loved loving you just as fiercely was intoxicating. It meant more than anything else. So I held him tightly even as sir Issac tried to break us up because we weren't giving him attention.

Eventually Thomas let go of me to rub Sir Isaac's head. “You aren't going to make me cry like that tonight are you?” He half teases whilst beginning to make his own coffee. I take his place stroking our cat as I tell him he needn't worry about my other gifts. Most of them were sweet treats and a few other books.

“Very well.” was all he replied with. Silence washes over us as we go about our daily routine. We steal kisses as we make breakfast, working around each other perfectly in our small kitchen. The rest of the day passes much the same. I do some research on our latest case as well as keep in contact with those attending the party and setting it up. Thomas is somewhere else in the flat, most likely reading.

When we have an hour before the party I pack away my things and find Thomas in the living room, his sketchbook in his lap. I peek over his shoulder and find that he has drawn me. Drawn me buried in my work, my hair in a messy bun and spilling over my face. His hoodie drowned me and my hand rested on my cup of coffee as I read something. Despite the chaos of my work I look peaceful. I gasp slightly at the details and he looks over his shoulder at me.

“Wadsworth. I didn't know what to start with so I drew my favourite thing.” He smiles at me and gestures for me to come sit next to him. He turns a page and shows me smaller drawings, some of me, some of us both. They are all perfectly drawn. I take his hand in mine and place a small kiss before taking the book of him to look closely at them.

There is one of me in a long pink summer dress, one we had taken the day we rescued Sir Issac. We’d been walking through the park, discussing our case when we heard him. He'd been lying with an injured leg, no collar or any way to find the owner. So we took him to the vet and later kept him. Then there was another one of me reading something, one of me cooking, reaching into the cupboards to find something with a bright smile on my face. There is one of us both lying in bed, me sticking my tongue out at the camera and him laughing at me. I didn't know when he took half these photos but I'd never felt happier as I looked up at him, his eyes hesitant at my reaction. I felt a tear run down my cheek and I looked back down at the drawings.

I hear Thomas tell me to look up and when I don't I feel his hand gently on my chin and lift me. I'm all too aware of how close we are, our shoulders brush against each other and all I feel is such love for this wonderful man. “I picked some of my favourite days, and some of the times that looked real. I love watching you do some tedious task, because you make it enjoyable somehow.”

“Which is your favorite?” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“This,” he says pointing to the one of us in bed. “You were drunk that night-”

“I was not!”

“You were,” he laughs at the memory, “I tucked you into bed but you made me hold you, then decided we needed to do something. So I took some photos of us, you with the most absurd faces, but there's one where I'm looking at you and you can see something in me clicked. I'd realised I loved you so much that night and that I'd do anything to prove it to you.”

He wiped the tear, caressing my cheek as he planted a kiss on my lips.

“Will you teach me?” I ask because I'm utterly terrible at drawing, at most creative things.

“Of course. I'm guessing you came to tell me we have to get ready?”

“Yeah.”

We dress, order a taxi and make our way to the party. Were greeted by my uncle who hands Thomas a set of scalpels, then my father who shakes his hand and laughs with him. It is still so bizarre at how friendly they were. My cousin wraps me in a tight hug and slowly the party develops. Dacian and Illeana get here slightly late but make up for it by telling us tales of our adventure. I leave Thomas to catch up with his sister and find Liza at the buffet, Sir Isaac poking her leg to try and get her to give him food. I roll my eyes at him. Thomas is a terrible role model.

“Sorry about our little beast, he is so much like Thomas the pest.” I pick up our cat and stroke him behind the ears and he purrs loudly. Liza laughs at me. “How are you?” I ask. It's been months since we saw each other. Last I heard she was part of a magic group of sorts and her mother hated it. But she was happy so at some point I would bring Thomas to see one of her shows.

“I'm good, me and Harry are, well. He's an ass but that's a story for another time. Will you and the birthday boy be dancing tonight? I'm sure Thomas would love being the center of attention like that.” He would, very much so. There were a few couples dancing, I looked towards the floor and found that Illeana and Dacina were there so I tried to find Thomas. He hasn't moved from our table but had his sketchbook out, staring intensely at it.

“We might. And you must tell me about what has happened with Harry. Perhaps sometime this week we can go for tea?”

Sir Isaac jumps from my arms, seemingly bored so Liza takes that opportunity to wrap me in another hug.

“Yes, I love that.” She tells me before walking off to find aunt Amelia. So I pile a bunch of sweets onto my plate and make my way back to Thomas.

“You are meant to socialise at parties Thomas.” I say as a way of greeting. I set the plate before him and he smiles brightly at all the sugary treats.

“Right, yes, sorry I'll finish this later.” I go to steal a peek at what he's drawing but he closes it too fast and tells me it's a surprise. “Dance with me Wadsworth.” he stands holding his arm out. We make our way onto the dance floor and I spot Liza beaming at me, getting her phone out to record us probably. Her hopelessly romantic heart means she likes to capture moments between Thomas and I. Something she has in common with Thomas apparently.

We start dancing slowly, his arms around my waist, making small circles as we spin. “Will you tell me what you were drawing or do I have to wait?”

“You obviously. You look devastatingly beautiful tonight. Your dress is perfect. I had to.” He says such matters of factly that it makes me laugh. I would very much like to draw Thomas, to be able to be half as talented as him. The dress I'm wearing is a midnight blue, matching his own suit. It rested over my shoulders, falling into a tight waist and flowing at the knees so when Thomas spun me it wrapped around me.

“Happy birthday Thomas.” His smile in return is better than anything I've seen before, it is so genuine and full of love that I stop dancing for just a second so I can always remember it. The music turns to silence for me as we continue to spin, all I can think about it Thomas. I steal a kiss and we remain dancing in silence, words not needed to convey our feelings.

@city-of-fae @fangirling-again @padfoot-sirius-black @fandomtakeover@purplecreatorhorsewagon @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @boredbookwormgirl @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cressworth #audrey rose wadsworth #thomas cresswell #cresswell #wadsworth #sir issac #thomas and audrey rose

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rosepetalmark · 4 years

Text

flowers in your hair

↬ Johnny Suh x Reader ↬1.8k Words ↬Your allergies and creating art are two things Johnny holds dear to his heart

You hated the outdoors. Anything to do with bugs, dirt, and even plants made you itch and sneeze and scared that you’ll get some rare unknown disease and die because the innocent looking flower you picked by the bench turned out to be poisonous.

Johnny on the other hand, enjoyed nature and embraced it to its fullest. Every day he’d make time to bask in the grass, and soak up all the sun while working on his latest art inspiration.

Today, he decided that sitting in a field full of sunflowers would be ideal for his newest project, and what would make it more worthwhile and perfect was if you, his girlfriend were with him to occupy his time and add further enjoyment to his favourite hobby.

Horrible idea on his part because you’re allergic to flowers, and tall fields of grass would most likely break you out into hives and have you coughing up a lung. Johnny wouldn’t bat an eye though, because despite loving you with all his heart, he had a knack for making fun of you and the simplest inconveniences that occurred within your life.

He always says you’re over dramatic when it comes to your “spring allergies” and that nothing like some water and the fresh air will clear your mind and nasal passages.

He’s a dumbass, and he really will be the reason you die one day.

But Johnny didn’t care, because as long he had you, a bottle of allergy medicine for your sneezing and itching, and his paintbrushes, he was content, even if you spent a great amount of your time in this damn sunflower field teary eyed and stuffy nosed.

“Johnny, please tell me we can leave soon, I'm itching way more now than I did when i had the chickenpox as a kid,” you whine, rubbing your hands across your bare arms to provide you with any relief as you watched the bees swarm past you in their search for some nectar in the flowers nearby.

“Mhm,” he whispers, continuing to stroke the paintbrush across the now detailed page, completely oblivious to the words that just left your mouth.

This always happened. Whenever he took you somewhere new, he’d completely block out the world, yourself included, in order to capture the essence of life whether it be through his camera or canvas.

Of course there was silence, why wouldn’t there be. Every time Johnny asks you to accompany him anywhere outdoors, you always think you’re going to explore and embrace nature, and every single time you are wrong, because the second you find something beautiful to look at, he sets his small backpack down and busts out either his camera or painting utensils to capture it.

You’d say it pissed you off at times, but art is his passion, and you’d never do anything to get in the way he feels so alive and free whenever he consumes himself with something as minuscule and simple as a paperclip. He finds the beauty in anything and everything, never ceasing to amaze you with the wonderful creations he illustrates.

“Johnny,” you say a little louder, unamused with the silence you receive, and the continuous strokes he continues to make on the page.

You call his name again, and again, and again, and it’s only the third time when you yell out his full name, that he finally drops the brush on his palette and focuses his attention on you.

“Were you not listening to me?” You question, seriously surprised that out of all the times you’ve called his name, he either completely ignored you or has gone def within his 25 years of life.

“Oh, I was listening,” he hums, raising his eyebrows whilst providing you with his staple cheeky grin, one he always does when he wants to get on your nerves.

Always a cocky one that guy, and how you manage to stay dating him truly blows your mind.

Sighing, you focus your gaze away from the way he picks up his paintbrush again and gently strokes baby blue across the page, looking towards the tall stocks of sunflowers gently breezing in the wind a few feet away from you.

“You’re such a crappy boyfriend,” you chuckle, picking up one of the untouched pastel crayons and examining its fluorescent blue hue. “You never pay attention to me.”

“I never pay attention to you, hm?” He asks, causing you to stare back at his now stoic stature, face still focusing on his notebook and nowhere on you, but more contoured and rigid this time.

“Well, you’re speaking to me now yet your attention is never on me, always on whatever you’re painting or drawing,” your tone slightly angered.

Obviously you were lying. Johnny was the most attentive boyfriend you could ever ask for, always checking in on you and ensuring your day goes smoothly, always hanging out with you when he’d rather be napping or out painting or doing photography, and almost always is down to make out with you whenever the opportunity arises.

You just like to pull his leg most of the time because it’s funny seeing how riled up he gets when he believes that you think he’d rather focus on his hobbies over having conversations with you.

“Here,” he signals, shoving his book in your direction, encouraging you to look through the worn out leather book he kept hidden for months, wanting you to see what he has been working on secretly whenever you were together.

Confused, you run your fingers along the enclosed ribbon on the cover of the sketchbook, hesitant to allow yourself in the work he’s immersed himself in for hours whenever the beauty in nature took over his attention span away from you.

Raising his eyebrows, he nods in a manner that demands you open the book. “If I don’t pay any attention to you, look through the book.”

Untying the string , you decide that whatever is in this book isn’t a secret anymore, because it wouldn’t even be in your hands if Johnny didn’t practically throw it at you to shut you and your curiosity up.

The first few pages are beautiful, really. He has a way with his sketches, always seeming so simple yet so realistic you’d think they were actual pictures edited just to appear more striking to the eye.

“Nature really is what inspires you hm?,” you ask, more of a rhetorical question because you already know the answer that’ll come from his mouth.

Chuckling, he brings his body closer to yours so his chin is resting on your shoulder, watching as you delicately turn the pages of his book. “Yeah, but there’s something more encapsulating that ends up being my muse, just keeping looking through.”

Golden sunflowers, vibrant pink sunsets, the giant pumpkin you both visited at the fall fair last year, everything you two experienced together when hanging out was documented in this book and reinvented through his drawings or paintings of them.

And then you saw a sketch of yourself. At first you thought it was cute, because he’d always draw you and all your other friends whenever he got bored. But four pages later all you found were several pages filled with you, ranging from when when he placed different coloured tulips in your hair that one time you went on a walk in the new community garden not far from your favourite ice cream shop, or when you experimented with makeup and put glitter all over your eyebrows.

Every moment you deemed minuscule and fun was captured so deeply in Johnny’s eyes, that he decided to relive it all again through the many strokes and colours that seamlessly came together to create something so beautiful.

Your breath was absolutely taken away.

You always thought nature is what captured Johnny’s attention the most, but turns out it’s always been you.

“I’m. Wait Johnny this is so-,” you begin to say, but your words become jumbled and your emotions a tangled mess, leaving you with tears in your eyes and so much more love for him in your heart than you’d ever had before, all because he drew some pictures of you.

“Do you like them?” he questions, raising his eyebrows, awaiting your answer of approval, his question only promoting the waterworks to begin and your head to aggressively nod.

You place the notebook gently on the blanket you two were sitting on, and crawl into his lap, pressing your body closer to his as you wrap your arms around his neck.

They were absolutely perfect. He was perfect.

Everything Johnny Suh says and does is absolutely incredible and you’re so incredibly lucky to be dating the cheesiest, most loving goofball the earth has to offer. Even if he’s a giant pain in your ass 97% of the time.

Pecking his cheek, you stare into his gleaming brown orbs. “I absolutely love them, Mr. Johnny Suh, and I love you a million times more.”

Tightening your arms around his neck, you couldn’t help but embrace this moment for much longer. You don’t care that you’re five seconds away from bursting into hives and that your throat feels like it’s closing up. Holding on to your very sweet, thoughtful boyfriend for as long as you could right in this moment was all that mattered to you.

“I was joking by the way, I know you care about me alot and pay more attention than most boyfriends would and I appreciate you tremendously.” You could start to feel the tears well up in the corners of your eyes, because you honestly don’t know what you’d do without Johnny.

He was your best friend, and has been such an uplifting, inspiring person ever since he entered your life your freshman year of college, the thought of him not being in your life one day was a scary thought you never wanted to come true.

“I love you always.”

“I know babe”, he whispered, kissing your cheek and running his fingers delicately through your hair, trying to calm you down as he could sense you were feeling rather overwhelmed.

“I wouldn’t keep dragging you to places you hated if I knew you didn’t love me,” he exclaimed, bursting out into a loud, body shaking laugh that provided you with the comfort to let your tears go, and laugh in unison with him.

Lifting you off his lap, Johnny grabs his art supplies and gently places them in his bag, grabbing your hand and pulling you up from the dry, matted grass you were both sitting on.

“Where are you dragging me?”

“Back to my place.” He winks, quickly pecking your lips before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you into the direction of his car.

“It wouldn’t be romantic to be making out with my girlfriend that I love very much in a sunflower field if she kept sneezing in my face, wouldn’t it?”

#johnny scenarios #johnny seo #johnny suh #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct 127 scenarios #kpop scenarios #johnny nct #nct fluff #nct soft hours #johnny suh scenarios #nct au #nct 127 au #johnny fic #nct fic #nct blurb #johnny blurb

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dawnwave16 · 4 years

Text

A King’s Lady

So I don’t know if this has ever been done before or if anyone will like it so please let me know what you think in the comments! Anyway this story is a Labyrinth x MLB story that wouldn’t leave me alone.

Story:

Marinette listened in stunned silence as her parents spewed their vitriol at her. Despite everything Lila had done, never once had Marinette thought her parents would believe a word that came out of the liar’s mouth. Unfortunately for the customers of Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie, Marinette’s parents had chosen to let rip at her as she had walked in the door having just finished her final exam from school. Slowly she closed her eyes and sighed.

“I never thought you would fall for a liar, I see I was wrong. Give me two hours to pack everything that is rightfully mine and I’ll be gone from your lives for good.” Marinette’s voice was forlorn as she spoke.

Tears dripped from her eyes as she made her way up the stairs to her room. Once there she threw herself into sorting out all the material positions held within. It didn’t take her too long before there were four piles on the floor. One for rubbish, one for things she thought could go to charities, one for things her parents had bought for her and the final one for things she had bought for herself.

It was a sad reflection on her life that the largest pile in the room was everything she had bought for herself. A new sewing machine, several dress forms, mountains of fabrics, threads, buttons and other sewing necessities etc. In the pile was also the clothes she had made for herself and her sketchbooks. Most importantly the Miracle Box was also hidden within the pile. Marinette took one last look around the room to make sure nothing had been missed before she nodded.

“I wish for the Goblin King to take me away.”

*******************************************

Jareth had had a long day when Marinette’s call had been made, yet hearing her broken tone had made him frown. He had first met Marinette when Chris had wished Ella and Etta away while Marinette had been babysitting the three of them. Chris was too young to run the Labyrinth so Marinette had volunteered to do so in his place. Despite him giving her the standard two hour time penalty, Marinette had completed the Labyrinth within eight hours and the four of them had returned home. Ironically, Marinette had only been twelve at the time.

A year later Jareth had been bored and taking a walk through Paris when an Akuma attack had reunited him with Marinette. Sure she had been Ladybug at the time but he was a Fae so he had recognised her pretty quickly. It seemed she had remembered him and quickly made plans to meet up with him after the attack. The meeting had been the first of many and before they knew it, Marinette was designing clothes for him for whenever he had to deal with Wish Aways and even some of the more formal functions he had to attend.

Jareth had watched as Marinette grew in confidence regarding her designs and hero skills even as her confidence in her friends faded due to the influence of a liar. He had done what he could to punish the liar by sending some goblins to do what they did best but all it had done was make the liar target Marinette even more so he had called them back fairly quickly. Jareth was sure that he was one of the only people to see her true smile these days. When she had had to strip Chat Noir of his miraculous, Jareth had been the one to hold her as she cried. It hadn’t been a task Marinette wanted to do but Chat had pushed too far and Marinette had had no choice as Guardian thus she had had to act.

Through her tears, Marinette had confessed how much she longed for the constant fight to end. How she wished to be free to feel all her emotions properly and how she wanted to leave Paris as it no longer held any happiness for her. Those few words of longing had been all Jareth had needed to release his Goblins on all of Paris. Soon they had tracked down Hawkmoth and Mayura and their Miraculi were soon in Marinette’s hands. While Paris, in general, started to recover, Marinette sunk deeper into herself as more lies were spun about her.

Jareth had done all he could to help her but he knew better than anyone words held power and all he could do was wait.

“I wish for the Goblin King to take me away.”

The words he had hoped Marinette would never utter floated through the air and Jareth sighed sadly. Since she had wished herself away there would be no one to run the Labyrinth for her. The kwami’s from the miraculi would follow her as she was their Guardian which he knew would bring him trouble in the long run. Since the rules were that if no one ran the Labyrinth, the Wish Away was to be turned Jareth knew Marinette would never leave.

As he left a thought came to him that made him smile. “Who said she had to be turned into a Goblin? He needed a Queen anyway and his Queen needed to be a Fae like himself…”

******************************************

Marinette smiled as the crash of thunder and lightning heralded Jareth’s arrival sending the citizens of Paris running as they looked for Stormy Weather.

“You summoned, my dear?” Jareth purred as he gathered Marinette into his arms. Jareth’s mismatched eyes shone with worry as he held the eighteen-year-old girl.

“Yes, please send that pile to the underground. My parents no longer want me and honestly? I’m done trying to fix everything for everyone else.” Marinette’s voice was choked by the tears that were trailing slowly down her cheeks.

“You know the rules of Wish Aways, my Mari. I’m going to bend the rules slightly this time though so with that in mind, I have to ask, do you wish to be changed into one of my subjects or my Queen?”

Marinette gazed into his eyes for a moment before murmuring the words that made his heart soar, “Your Queen, my love.”

***************************************

It took roughly six hours for all of Paris to know about the argument that had taken place in the bakery and that was before Nadja Chamack got hold of the story. Unfortunately for Tom and Sabine, who were only guilty of falling for the same stories as their daughters' classmates due to being overly stressed by the Bakery being so busy, Nadja had reported on the argument with each lie being debunked at the same time. It wasn’t long before Lila found herself persona non grata throughout Paris and banned from almost every well-known establishment in the rest of Europe after Adrien shared the recording on his twitter.

Alya and the rest of Marinette’s old classmates could only watch in horror as each of Lila’s lies were debunked on live TV. Rose and Mylene were almost inconsolable by the end of the broadcast. Soon Marinette’s phone was blowing up with texts and calls but as it was in one of the remaining piles in Marinette’s old room everything remained unanswered. It would take Sabine a month to finally confront her guilt and start sorting through the stuff that had been left behind.

As for Marinette? Well, she was enjoying spending time with Jareth as his new queen so it was safe to say she had very few regrets with her new life.

#labyrinth #wish aways #Jareth x Mari #miraculous ladybug #lila salt #SALT #experimental story

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

dance with you

“Jan, calm down, you’ll think of something,” Damian comforts, patting her back gently as Janis lies face-down on her bed and lets out a groan.

“Damian, prom is in a month! And it has to be perfect, it’s our senior year,” Janis huffs into her pillow.

“You’ll think of something perfect. You could... fill her locker with ping pong balls that say ‘prom’ and then when she opens it and they all fall out say ‘I finally got the balls to ask you to prom’?” Damian suggests.

Janis chuckles at that, finally poking her head out. “Is that how Elijah asked you?”

“Maybe,” Damian mumbles. “I thought it would at least make you smile.”

“You got me, then,” Janis says. “Ugh, why is this so hard? I had an easier time with the ACT.”

“Feelings.”

“Gross. I don’t want ‘em anymore,” Janis sighs.

“Just think of stuff she’s into. Like animals or math. You can borrow Pippa if you need to.” Damian says as Janis leans against his shoulder.

“Animals... math... I can probably work with that,” Janis says, a hint of a plan forming in her mind.

“There‘s my Janjan. You go Janjan. Ask the girl you’re already dating to prom,” Damian teases.

“Shut up! You know Caddy loves those tacky promposal things you see on YouTube, I gotta do something dorky,” Janis says. Cady really does love them, she gets so excited every time someone at school gets promposed to, the tackier the better.

“And you’ll think of something perfectly sappy and gross. I have faith.”

“Thanks, D.”

————-

On Monday, Janis uses her study hall period to hunt down Kevin G. Cady is in English on the other side of the building, so unless she goes really out of her way to go to the bathroom there’s no chance of her finding out what Janis is up to.

She finds Kevin in the library, reading what appears to be a math textbook cover to cover. Janis puts on some fake confidence and marches her way up to his table, sliding into the chair across from him.

“Yo, Sarkisian, how ya been?” Kevin asks, closing the book and looking up at her.

“Um... fine. Listen, can you help me with something?” Janis says hastily.

“Depends,” Kevin responds. “What do you need and what do I get out of it?”

“I’m trying to think of a way to ask Caddy to prom, is there any sort of, like, equation or something that would spell out prom if she solved it or something? Something math related I could do?” Janis pleads. She had decided getting animals involved was a little more risky than she was willing to try.

“Oh. Uh, I don’t... actually know about that. I can check with Norbury and get back to you?” Kevin says.

“Sure. Just, would you be able to do it soon? Like, sometime this week? I wanna give her time to get everything prepared, and prom is less than a month away.”

“Sure thing, Sarks. Don’t stress, Africa never shuts up about you. She’ll say yes.”

“Thanks, Kevin. I really appreciate it.” Janis says, relieved.

“Anything for Heron. We’d be a fuckin’ wreck without her.”

—————

On Wednesday, Janis is sitting in art when none other than Kevin comes barreling through the door, making a beeline for her.

“Yo, Picasso, Norbury and I have somethin’ for ya,” He calls.

“Really?” Janis asks, tucking her paintbrush behind her ear.

“Yeah. Um, Norbury got really excited when I told her you were trying to think of a good way to ask Africa and did a lot of research. They have a strange relationship. Anyway. She found this dope series of equations that spells ‘prom’ once it’s graphed. Norbury said you can ask her during Mathletes practice on Friday using it, if you’re into that.” Kevin says.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll talk to Ms. Norbury, I have a free next. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Janis says. “I owe you big time.”

“You wanna design a new logo for my DJ business?” He asks with a slightly creepy wink.

“Sure. Uh, how long do I have?” Janis asks, pulling out her sketchbook to get going.

“As long as you need, I... um. Don’t get many gigs. Also, don’t fuck it up with Heron, please.” Kevin begs.

“I’ll do my best,” Janis says, determined not to.

Janis heads to Ms. Norbury’s classroom next, knocking on the doorframe. This is her plan period, so there’s nobody else there.

“Oh, Janis, hello. Kevin told me you might come by,” She says once she looks up.

“Um, yeah. He said you found something I could use to ask Cady to prom?” Janis says nervously. Ms. Norbury is one of the sweetest teachers at their school, but Janis always gets anxious when she talks to adults.

“I do indeed,” Ms. Norbury says, pulling out a sheet of very complicated looking numbers and letters. “This looks like this, once it’s been graphed.” She flips the page over to reveal a graph with what looks like ‘prom ?’ in cursive.

“This is perfect. Can Caddy really solve this kind of stuff?” Janis asks, looking at the equations again.

“She can,” Ms. Norbury confirms. “She’s my MVP, so to speak. If you’d like, we have practice this Friday after school, we can squeeze this in at the end.”

“That would be great,” Janis breathes with relief.

They decide that Janis would drop by on Friday morning to drop off a few supplies, and then show up before Cady in the afternoon. She would hide in the classroom storage closet until Cady solved her graph, and then pop out with prom balloons and some flowers.

It’s just tacky enough for Cady to love, and not quite tacky enough for Janis to hate. It’s perfect.

———

Friday rolls around quicker than Janis is quite ready for. She wakes up two hours early to head to the party store and get the balloons, and then to the convenience store next door to grab a bouquet of pink roses, one of Cady’s favorite flowers.

Ms. Norbury looks rather startled when she comes barreling into the room in a frenzy, but shoots her a wink as she stuffs everything into the closet and dashes back out the door to meet Cady like normal.

She’s just barely gotten her breath back under control when Cady comes bouncing through the doors, auburn curls in a ponytail today. As always, she looks for Janis by her locker, smiling as she spies her and comes up for a hug.

“Hi, Jayjay,” She says, wrapping Janis up tightly.

“Hi Peanut,” Janis says back, kissing her forehead. “Did you take your medicines today?”

“Mmhmm! Did you take yours?” Cady answers. Cady almost always remembers, Janis almost always forgets.

“No,” Janis answers, looking around as she pulls the bottle from her backpack as if she’s committing a felony. She’s not, but they’re technically not allowed to carry their own medications. “Did you have breakfast?”

“No,” Cady mumbles. She struggles sometimes to recognize physical sensations, occasionally forgoing a meal or forgetting to stay hydrated, especially if she’s sucked into an activity or a routine.

“Eat one of your Kälteens, then,” Janis says once her pills are down and the bottle hidden away in her bag again. Cady does, offering one to her too. “Thanks, babe.”

“Are you okay, mpenzi? You look nervous,” Cady says worriedly. Shit.

“Yeah I’m fine, everything’s fine! All good,” Janis says rapidly, shoving a large bite of her bar into her mouth and grinning at her like a chipmunk.

“Okay...” Cady says, clearly not believing her even slightly but also recognizing it’s not something Janis wants to talk about.

The warning bell rings then, Cady pouting as she hugs Janis goodbye. “Bye, Butterfly. Have a good day,” Janis says, pecking her lips gently.

“Bye, Bluejay. I love you,” Cady says, blowing her another kiss as she walks away.

“I love you too!” Janis calls after her. And that makes this afternoon much easier, she thinks to herself.

Janis is almost relieved when school finally ends, the nerves having been building inside her as the day went on. Luckily Janis has study hall in the science wing directly above the math wing, allowing her to rush down and get to Ms. Norbury’s room before anyone else. Cady has English on the other side of the building, so she’s commonly the last one to arrive at practice.

She opens the cupboard where she’ll be spending the next hour or so, luckily spotting an outlet so she can charge her phone to keep herself busy. Ms. Norbury agreed to film for her, so she has that covered. She makes sure no light shines out and sits on the ground, peeking under the doorframe as Cady enters, calling a hello to everyone else.

They all mill around and chat for a while before Ms. Norbury enters again with their practice problems for the day. Sometimes they practice competition style and other days they just make sure their problem solving skills are still up to snuff. Today is the latter. Cady greets Ms. Norbury as well, asking about her day and complimenting her blouse.

The boys all sit down first, having been informed of the plan, leaving Cady the seat with the best view of the cabinet Janis is in so she’ll be able to see the reveal right away.

Janis watches her work for a while, having to hold on a chuckle as Cady’s brows furrow in concentration and she taps away furiously on her calculator. She’s so cute. She finishes first, taking the time to double check her work before going to Ms. Norbury for the answer key.

“You finished, Cady?” Ms. Norbury asks, taking her worksheet to check over it.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about number eight though,” Cady says, rubbing her sleeve against her lips nervously.

“You got it correct, Cady. We’ve talked about this. Confidence,” their teacher chides gently. “I have some bonus things for you to work on now, we need to work on graphing practice more. Here you go.”

Janis perks up at that, standing quietly and grabbing hold of her balloons and flowers. There’s just a big enough gap between the door and its frame that she can still peek and see what Cady’s up to.

Cady taps away on her calculator again, plotting all the points down with her pencil carefully. Her brow gets progressively lower with her confusion as she goes, starting to realize something might be up here.

Her head snaps up when she finishes connecting all the points and sees what it spells, Janis taking that as her cue to step out of the closet. That’s a hell of a metaphor, she thinks, bracing herself for Cady’s reaction.

Cady gives an excited gasp when she sees her, scrambling out of her chair and rushing to leap into her arms. Janis drops the balloons and flowers to catch her, glad she had the foresight to go for a balloon weight. “Cady Heron, will you go to prom with me?”

“Of course I will, goofy,” Cady says, sounding a little choked up. “This was perfect.”

“Good,” Janis says, setting her down gently and pressing their lips together. She forgets they’re not alone until the other Mathletes start whistling and cheering, and Ms. Norbury gives an audible coo. They both break apart, blushing violently. “I love you.”

“I love you too. How long were you in there?” Cady asks, pointing to the cupboard as she bends over to pick up the abandoned roses.

“I dunno. About ten minutes before you got here, I think. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

“You hid in a closet for an hour just to ask me to prom?” Cady asks, hugging her tightly again.

“Apparently I did, yes.”

“You’re such a dork, I love you. I’m so excited! We get to match this year,” Cady squeals, bouncing up and down.

“Treat that one right, Africa! She’s committed,” Kevin hollers from behind them.

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Cady purrs, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

————-

Damian insists on taking them both shopping, individually of course, so as not to ruin the reveal. Cady gets to go first, since she didn’t get to pick an outfit for Spring Fling last year. Cady would decide the color scheme, and Damian would pass that information to Janis when it was her turn.

“This is fun!” Cady cheers, lugging him around the mall happily.

“We haven’t even gotten to the store yet, Cads,” Damian says, huffing slightly. For how small she is, Cady moves very quickly. He can’t tell if it’s the autism, the bisexuality, or some leftover instinct from Kenya, but he’s exhausted.

“I know, but I like hanging out with you! You’re fun,” Cady says as she swings their arms back and forth happily.

“Aww. You’re fun too, Cads.” Damian responds, touched. “So, do you have any ideas of what kind of dress you want? Wait, do you even want a dress?”

“I want a dress, yes,” Cady giggles. “I think a suit could be fun, but I didn’t get to wear a dress last year. I think I want a long one? But I don’t like when they have long sleeves, they’re usually lace and it’s too itchy.” She looks at him questioningly, as if asking his approval for her opinions.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Damian says as they enter.

“Whoa,” Cady blurts, immediately slightly overwhelmed by all the colors and big poofy skirts.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Damian chuckles. “Do you wanna split up and look or stick together?”

“Stick together,” Cady says hastily, pressing closer. “I trust your fashion sense more than my own anyway.”

Damian thinks that’s probably a fair assessment. “Okay, I think your sizes are over here.” He starts flicking through a rack, and she roots through the one next to it. They have to be a bit more particular due to Cady’s sensitivity to certain fabrics, but they get several good options.

“Oh, this is great,” Cady says as Damian hands her a gown. “My cousin had some Broadway star take her shopping for her prom last year and it didn’t go very well. Turns out a future Broadway star is much better.”

“Wait, your cousin had a Broadway actor take her prom shopping? How did she swing that?” Damian asks.

“Oh, her school turned their prom into some big civil rights thing, they wouldn’t let her go since she’s a lesbian and wanted to take her girlfriend. They came down from New York to bring attention to it and stuff, I think. Her name is Emma.” Cady says, grabbing another dress from the rack.

“Emma? Wait, does she live in Indiana?” Damian asks, excitement building.

“Yeah, why?”

“Emma Nolan is your cousin?! Janis and I each watched her video, like, fifty times. We donated to her campaign thing for the inclusive prom,” Damian says.

“Oh, really? That’s so sweet, I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you guys. I’ve told her a lot about you,” Cady says, now weighed down by a mountain of heavy dresses.

“Oh my god, yes please, she’s such an icon. Anyway, give me these, I can’t even see your face anymore. Let’s go pick your dress!” And with that, the pile is transferred to Damian and they head towards the changing rooms.

The first dress she tries is an amethyst color, and mermaid style. She likes how it looks in the mirror, but it’s so tight around her legs that she almost falls flat on her face when she goes to show it off. Damian catches her and immediately turns her around to go try something else.

The second one is an emerald green, with a shorter skirt and long (but thankfully not itchy) sleeves. She’s more into the length than she thought she would be, and the color suits her. Damian takes a photo so they can compare it to her other options.

The third dress is a beautiful yellow color, and has a sweetheart neckline and thin straps. It reminds her of her costume from Beauty and the Beast. She absolutely loves it, but it turns out to be way too large and her whole chest is pretty much exposed. Oh well.

Her fourth option is a periwinkle two-piece contraption with a very complicated top piece and a long poofy skirt. She likes the color and the way it fits, but the neckline makes her feel like she’s choking and the material of the skirt is very itchy. Damian claps when he sees her in it, though, so she decides to keep it as an option.

The fifth time turns out to be the charm. It’s a royal blue gown, the bodice tight and embroidered with a large flower pattern, and a skirt that flares out at her waist. The short sleeves hang just off her shoulders, and it makes her feel like a princess. This might be the one.

Damian’s eyes go wide as he spies her coming from behind the curtain, gasping at the beauty of it. “This one this one this one,” he repeats excitedly, clapping his hands in between. “What do you think?”

“I really like it,” Cady says, turning to look at herself in another mirror. “The material is really nice. And the color is so pretty.”

“It makes your eyes pop. And it goes so well with your hair,” Damian says as he comes up behind her, laughing as she starts moving her hips to see how the skirt swishes.

“The swish is good,” Cady giggles. “Do you think Janis will like it?”

“She would love anything you feel good in, you know that,” Damian says. “But yes, I think we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t pass out when she sees you. You look gorgeous, Little Slice.”

“Thank you. Oh, wait, can you take a picture to show my mom? She wanted to come with us but she got stuck with a work thing,” Cady asks. “I think she said someone brought in a sick elephant and they had to decide what to do with it.”

“An eleph- okay, sure. Smile,” He responds, taking her phone and snapping a few photos. “There you go. Wanna go get some boba?”

“Ooh, yes!” Cady squeals.

————-

The week after is Janis’ turn, Damian taking her shopping along with both of their mothers and Juliana. It’s much easier shopping for suits. There’s less variety, so they don’t have to decide from as many options.

Damian goes first, he and his date Elijah having decided on an emerald color scheme for their outfits. He tries on two options, a slate grey suit with a green button up underneath, and a fully green suit with a black button up.

He looks great in both, but Julie in her typical brutally honest fashion says he looks rather like a tree in the full green one. Janis’ mom whacks her on the back of the head and tells her to be polite, but Damian just laughs and agrees with her, going with the grey ensemble.

Janis’ turn. Damian tells her that Cady’s dress is a royal blue, and that’s all the detail she gets. She grins, trying to imagine what her girlfriend will look like on the night, wondering what style of dress she chose. Janis does love Cady in blue.

Their group wanders aimlessly for a minute until Janis finds a black pantsuit in her size, Damian grabbing a soft blue crew neck t-shirt as an option to go under it, as well as a white button down and cobalt skinny tie as an alternate.

She heads to the changing room, tugging the curtain closed and staring at her pieces for a second. She decides to try the more traditional button down and tie first, fumbling with it for a second before giving up and heading out, asking her mom to tie it for her.

Janis looks in the mirror once her mom loops it around her neck correctly, grinning at what she sees. She looks hot. The thin legs of the pants make her look even taller than she already is. They’re a little long, so she’ll have to get it tailored a bit, but the fit other than that is perfect. The dark blazer accentuates her shoulders, and the length of the sleeves makes her feel like a boss bitch.

She turns around to see what her little crew thinks, finding Julie already in Damian’s lap and wide grins on everyone’s faces.

“You look beautiful, hon. Very sophisticated,” Ms. Hubbard says, her own mom sneakily wiping a tear away and nodding in agreement.

“Go see what you look like with the t-shirt instead,” her sister demands. She does, heading back to change before pulling the blazer back on. She looks in the mirror again. The t-shirt is a little less formal, but she still looks very dapper.

“Which do you like better, baby girl?” Her mom asks. She has to think for a moment. The shirt allows her to match more with Cady, and is more comfortable. But if she wore a tie, Cady could use it to pull her into kisses, which she’s always wanted to do.

She decides they’ll be doing plenty of kissing anyway, and goes with what she feels more comfortable in. “I like this. I think once I have my accessories and makeup on and stuff it’ll still be fancy enough.”

“I think so too,” Damian says, removing her sister from his lap to stand. He heads to change back into his so their moms can take pictures of them together.

Janis’ phone pings right as she’s about to hand it over for a photo. She pulls it back to check, grinning a little when she sees a message from Cady.

Caddy Cakes: Hi lovey!!!! 🥰📷 Did you pick an outfit yet??

Jellybean: hi baby

Jellybean: i just picked my suit, no you can’t see it yet

Caddy Cakes: D:

Caddy Cakes: Just kidding, I know. I have a request

Jellybean: 🤨

Caddy Cakes: Can I see you in heels????? Pleeeeeeaase?? Just for prom night and then I’ll never make you wear them again 🥺🥺

Caddy Cakes: Sent a picture: Pwease?

Jellybean: you gotta stop doing the puppy eyes

Jellybean: fine. i’ll talk to damian

Caddy Cakes: Oh yay!!! Ok I’ll let you go now. I love you!!!!! Mwah!

Jellybean: i love you too baby 📷📷

She clicks her phone off and stares at it for a second, realizing what she’s just gotten herself into.

“What happened?” Damian asks, concerned something is seriously wrong.

“Caddy wants me to wear heels,” Janis whines as she buries her face in his blazer.

“You are so fucking whipped,” Damian teases. “We’ll find something.”

Their moms finally finish taking photos and they head to the shoe store, Janis looking longingly at the flat men’s dress shoes Damian chooses from. Once his are picked, they head over to the high heels. Janis stares incredulously at the height of some of them, very glad she escaped the Plastics before the heels got this high.

Juliana suddenly comes running at her holding a box, nearly tripping over her own feet and falling on her face until Janis reaches out to steady her. Julie shoves the box at her, Janis taking it curiously and looking to see what her sister has found.

She pulls back the tissue paper to find a pair of stiletto heels (which concerns her, thin heels are not a good way to introduce yourself to them), about four or five inches high and the same royal blue as their color scheme.

“These are huge, Jules,” Janis says incredulously. “Pretty, but... damn.”

“They’re the only ones that match,” Juliana pants, still out of breath from dashing around the store. “I checked everywhere.”

Janis looks at them again. Maybe if she practiced wearing them she could do it. “I’ll try them. You gotta help me, though, or I’m gonna fall on my ass.”

Juliana giggles at that but nods as Janis heads over to a bench to sit, tugging off her comfortable boots. She immediately regrets agreeing to this, but does kind of understand the appeal once she stands up for the first time.

With the height of the heel she’s roughly six and a half feet tall and feeling like she can grind the patriarchy to a pulp under her foot. Of course, it all flies out the window when she tries to take a step, since her entire gait has to shift.

Julie grabs her hands to steady her, guiding her slowly down the aisle like she’s teaching a baby how to walk. Unfortunately, Damian and their mothers come back at this point, all of them immediately bursting out laughing at the sight.

“Oh, baby girl, you’ll have to practice,” her mom giggles.

“Those shoes are perfect, though,” Damian says excitedly.

“I picked ‘em!” Juliana says proudly.

Damian looks impressed. “Nice, squirt. You have a knack for that.” Juliana beams proudly as Janis messes up her hair, immediately losing her balance.

“Who fucking invented these,” she grumbles crankily under her breath.

“Language, Janny,” her mom chides warningly, despite knowing she swears all the time.

Janis looks sheepish, turning away. “Sorry Mama.”

“Alright, let’s go get you kids fed and head home,” Ms. Hubbard says.

“God, yes please,” Janis breathes, yanking the shoes off her feet and stuffing them

back in the box.

————-

The day before the dance, Cady insists on all three art freaks (plus Juliana, who had her own middle school dance on the same night) going to the spa together.

It’s a lovely place, very clean and bright. Janis decides to get her nails all painted the same royal blue shade to match their outfits, Cady gets a glittery silver, and Juliana gets a purple to match the dress she had picked. Damian felt left out and decides to get his painted green.

Since they’re not getting any kind of fancy processes done, they’re all led back to sit next to one another in massage chairs to wait for their nail technicians. The hostess offers them a drink of their choice, Damian and Julie choose a cola, Cady gets water and Janis asks for a Sprite.

While they wait for their drinks, their nail techs come to get to work on them. It turns out that part of the package is hot stone massages on their legs, and warm lotion massages on their arms while they get their nails painted. Janis nearly falls asleep in her chair, lulled by the soothing warmth of the lotion and the repetitive motion of the chair.

She’s startled back awake by the lady returning with their drinks, learning that they had run out of Sprite and offered a Mountain Dew instead. She says it’s fine and takes it, finding the contrast of the drink and the sensations she’s experiencing very funny.

Once their nails are all painted, they’re led over to a drying station in the middle of the room, sitting on benches and sticking their hands and feet under fans to blow their nails dry. Cady leans her head on Janis’ shoulder while they wait, Janis kissing her hair and pressing her cheek against the top of her head.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” Cady whispers. “I’m so excited.”

“I can’t wait either, Peanut. You’re going to look so beautiful,” Janis responds softly, pulling her into a sweet kiss once her nails are finished and safe to use again.

Cady looks sad to see Janis go once they have to pay and leave, but cheers up a bit when she’s reminded that they get to spend the whole night together tomorrow.

————

On the day, Janis’ mom helps her get ready. The dance doesn’t start until nine, but she and Cady are going out to dinner with Damian and Elijah first, so she has to be ready early.

She’s lucky that her mom appreciates her style. She applies some natural looking makeup around her eyes, which is a bit different than Janis normally does, but she does have to admit it’s a nice look. She’s surprised when her mom gets to the lips, pulling out a blue lipstick, so dark it’s almost black. It’s perfect.

Janis thinks she looks sort of like a model when she looks in the mirror as her mom starts working on her hair.

“I’ve missed doing this for you,” her mom says as she starts brushing out her hair.

“You can anytime, Mama. I hate doing it,” Janis huffs.

“You always did, baby girl, you always did,” her mother replies. Once she finishes brushing it, she applies a few products to get her natural wave back into it, and then starts slicking it to the side with some gel. Once it’s finished, all her hair is resting over her shoulder. It’s a very elegant look. “There.”

“Mama, are you crying?” Janis asks, turning around to hug her.

“No,” her mom sniffs. “Yes. You’ve just... grown into such a beautiful young lady. Feels like the years have gotten away from me. Won’t be too much longer before I’m doing this on your wedding day.”

Janis laughs at that. “You’ve got a while, I’m nowhere near ready to be married yet. I love you.”

Her mom squeezes her, brushing a hand against her cheek as she lets her go. “I love you too, baby girl. Go put your suit on, I’ve got to help your sister now.”

Janis heads to her room, tugging on her now perfectly tailored suit pants, then her royal blue t-shirt, her blazer, and necklaces. She decides to forgo the shoes for as long as she can, leaving them resting on her bed. She slides her fanciest rings on as a finishing touch and heads to look at herself in the mirror.

It’s strange. She’s wearing a suit, but she looks more feminine than she has in a long time. Even in comparison to her suit from last year’s Spring Fling where she wore a skirt, it’s a more feminine look. She decides she’s into it. She looks good.

She heads downstairs right as Damian and his date pull up outside. Juliana goes rushing up to hug him, looking beautiful in her lavender dress. Janis is glad her sister and best friend get along so well.

“Looking good, guys,” she says as her sister finally releases him. Elijah wound up choosing the option Damian didn’t, looking quite handsome in his green ensemble. He’s shorter than Damian, so he looks less like a tree.

“So do you! You look so good, Jan,” Damian says, pulling her into a gentle hug so he doesn’t mess anything up.

“Thanks,” Janis says shyly, spinning around to show off with her shoes still in her hand. “When’s Caddy coming? I wanna see her.”

“She texted me and said she’s gonna be a couple minutes late, she shouldn’t be too much longer,” Damian responds, checking the time on his phone. “Oh, speak of the devil.”

Cady’s parents pull up then, Cady’s door opening before the car even comes to a complete stop. Janis gasps when she sees her girlfriend in her dress for the first time.

Before she even has time to fully process it, her jaw hanging open, her girlfriend is in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Janis, oh my god! You look incredible!”

“So do you,” Janis says, pulling back for a second to see her. “You look like a princess.”

Cady really does, her long auburn hair has been braided into a thick crown around her head, the remaining strands tied in a bun on top of her head and two little pieces hanging out to frame her face. Her makeup is heavy around her eyes, silver shadow on her lids and eyelashes dark. She looks very ethereal. Her lipstick is more natural, and Janis likes that she can still see her freckles through her face makeup.

“You look so hot! Very, um, sexy businesswoman going to a fancy thing,” Cady says, reaching out to feel her blazer. Janis realizes when she doesn’t have to reach as far that their height balance is off, thrown by Cady’s shoes.

“Thanks,” Janis laughs. “I think.”

“Put your shoes on, I wanna see,” Cady demands, pointing to the heels Janis is still holding in her hand.

“Fine,” Janis pouts as she rests them

on the ground and steps into them carefully. Cady reaches out to steady her at first before letting go once she’s more stable. Janis has been wearing them around the house all month to get used to them.

“Jesus, you’re tall,” Cady giggles, looking up at her. “Oh, wait, I have your-um. Thingy.”

“Boutonnière, baby. Thank you,” Janis laughs as Cady tenderly pins it on. “Here’s your corsage.”

“Why thank you,” Cady says as Janis slides it on her wrist and kisses her knuckles. “Now come on, we gotta take pictures. I want to kiss you but I can’t mess up your makeup until those are done.”

“Okay, Peanut, let’s go,” Janis chuckles, taking her hand and stumbling slightly as she heads over to Damian, Elijah, and their parents.

They take every cliché prom photo in the book, all awkward poses and cheesy smiles. Janis nearly breaks her ankle trying to do their jump shot in those shoes, but Cady somehow does and lands it perfectly, reaching out to steady Janis with a chuckle.

They take one more jokey shot of each other with the wrong dates, Cady with Damian and Janis with Elijah looking at each other confusedly before switching back to who they’re meant to be with.

“Alright, you crazy kids, get out of here,” Damian’s mom demands, shoving them towards their Uber that had pulled up. None of them were into the idea of renting a limo, but none of them wanted to drive either.

“Be safe!” Janis’ mom adds.

“Make good choices!” Cady’s mom pipes up. Her dad and Cady both roll their eyes lovingly.

————-

As they pull up to the restaurant, everyone clambers out quickly. Damian and Elijah head in first, Janis and Cady following hand in hand a few paces behind them. Just before they reach the doors, Cady tugs on Janis’ hand, hauling her backwards.

“Wha- oh, okay,” Janis stutters, gasping as Cady looks around quickly before fisting a hand in her t-shirt and pulling her down for a hot mess of a kiss. Turns out the shirt works just fine. Janis kisses her back just as hard, wrapping her arms around Cady’s waist to pull her closer.

When they finally break apart, their lipsticks have fully blended together. “Glad we made it to the dance before we ruined our makeup,” Cady chuckles breathlessly, pulling two makeup wipes out of her clutch to get rid of the evidence. Damian looks at them knowingly when they walk in several minutes late suddenly missing lipstick, but neither of them care.

It’s a fancy restaurant, and their table is next to a water feature. Janis immediately sticks her hand in it, causing water to splash everywhere for a second until she pulls it out.

“Janis, what? Why did you do that?” Cady asks in exasperation as she grabs a napkin from their table to dry Janis’ hand.

Janis looks down sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was real.”

“Well now you know,” Cady says, dabbing at the splash marks on her suit and wondering how a fountain could be fake. “And I’m sitting next to that. You get the outside.”

“Sorry, Caddy.”

“Don’t be sorry, my love. I just worry about your regard for social norms and sense of self preservation sometimes.” Cady comforts, kissing her cheek gently to cheer her up.

“Oh, speaking of which, I got a great idea for senior pranks,” Janis says excitedly. Damian and Elijah both lean in across the table, as if they’re plotting something for the mafia. “I’m gonna get a cow and stick it on the second floor, and then put chickens in the elevator. Cows don’t go down stairs, so they’ll try to put it in the elevator and find the chickens.”

“Where are you going to get any of these things?” Elijah asks. It’s a fair question.

“My mom knows a guy, one of her old classmates is a farmer and he said I could borrow some of his livestock,” Janis explains.

“I- wh-“ Cady stutters, trying to find a response to this. “If you get expelled before you can graduate I’m not gonna help you.” Her own plan was just to stick a bunch of plastic forks in the football field. Gretchen and Karen had already agreed to help, too.

“I won’t get caught. It’ll be fine,” Janis says, sounding as if she already knows it won’t.

“That’s actually kind of genius, Jan,” Damian says. “I’m gonna put a speaker in the gym playing the chorus to It’s a Small World on repeat and then put a bunch of cups full of water in the way of it.”

“Nice!” Janis cheers, high-fiving him.

“You guys,” Cady pleads, looking as if she’s witnessing a murder plot. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“That’s the fun of it, Peanut! The risk,” Janis says boldly. “Plus, Regina knows how to hack the security cameras so there won’t be any proof. Unless someone rats me out.”

Cady thinks she might, just to save herself the headache. She feels as if she’s gotten a very telling taste of her future. “Jesus Christ.”

Cady and Elijah make exhausted eye contact periodically throughout their meal, exasperated with their respective partners. Once they finally finish eating, Cady has to haul Janis away from the fountain by the tail of her blazer to stop her from reaching into it again.

“Come on, Jayjay. No fountain or I’m revoking your little spoon rights for a week.”

“Fine.”

————-

A few minutes after nine, their group strolls into the school. Janis and Cady head to the bathroom to reapply their respective lipsticks before going into the main dance.

Janis stops Cady before she can put hers back on, pressing her against the wall gently and kissing her soundly again. Cady grips the fabric of her blazer at her waist, having to restrain herself from messing up Janis’ hair.

Janis checks under the doors to make sure they’re alone before coming back, pulling Cady flush against her and sucking on her lower lip. Cady groans softly, making Janis want to fast forward through the dance and take her home.

Cady gives her one last good smooch before pulling back, both of them panting slightly. “We should go in,” She breathes, ghosting the words over Janis’ lips. “We have time for this later, we only get one senior prom.”

“Fine,” Janis pouts, kissing her gently one more time before heading to a mirror to finally put her lipstick back on.

They head hand in hand into the gym, looking around at how it’s been transformed. The theme this year is a Night Under the Stars, so they’re surrounded by dark balloons, gold decorations, and glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. Janis is reminded of Cady’s speech from last year’s dance. Maybe that served as the inspiration.

“Whoa,” Cady says excitedly. The school puts much more funding into prom than Spring Fling, since it’s supposed to be a kind of final memory for the seniors. It actually looks quite nice. “I’m gonna go say hi to Regina and Gretchen and Karen really quick, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Butterfly. I want punch, I’ll be over there.” Janis kisses her quickly and sends her on her way.

She people-watches as she sips slowly from her cup, wanting to get as much punch as she can before someone inevitably spikes it. Damian and Elijah have already been lost to the mob of dancers, but she can spy them just across the way. Regina looks strangely nervous in her baby pink dress. She’s been wary of large crowds since the bus incident. Gretchen and Karen look adorable as ever together, in royal purple dresses that are slightly different styles.

Janis is working on her third cup of punch when the DJ announces a request for Born This Way by Lady Gaga. She and Damian lock eyes from across the room, nodding slightly. Damian sometimes choreographs dances to his favorite songs, and almost always drags Janis into learning them. They both have backgrounds in dance, and can do them quite well. Janis figures they might as well go out with a bang.

They meet in the middle of the floor and start their routine. Damian is a talented choreographer, having spent hours studying for his various shows. The routine is actually very well put together.

People gradually start realizing what’s happening and stop dancing themselves, surrounding them to watch and cheer them on. It’s a nice feeling, if a bit strange for them. She spots Cady with the former Plastics watching her excitedly, and shoots her a cheeky wink before continuing her moves.

When the song finally ends, they pause in their ending pose for a split second before standing and blushing scarlet. Everyone claps for a short while, looking rather stunned as they head back to their friends. “Well damn,” the DJ says into his microphone. “Did not expect that. Uh, here’s the Macarena.”

Cady wraps Janis in a tight hug once she finally reaches her, yelling, “Janis, what the hell?! I had no idea you could dance like that, that was incredible!”

“Thanks,” Janis pants. “I’ll teach you sometime.”

“I’m such a klutz, good look with that,” Cady giggles. “You need more to drink, you must be exhausted.”

She leads Janis over to the table, pouring them both one more glass of punch. “We should go see who the prom court is, too.”

Prom court worked a bit differently than Spring Fling, in that it was a secret until the night of the dance. Student council made nominations, which allowed some of the less popular students to make the ballot, and then whoever attended the event got to vote.

“There’s two winners of each this year? That’s different,” Janis mumbles on seeing the sign at the voting table.

“Regina said it’s because there’s a lot more LGBT+ couples that are out and coming to events together now, and should both be able to win. They’re doing it from now on,” Cady says. “And look at who’s on the ballot.”

Janis does, surprised to see her own name listed, along with Cady’s and the three former Plastics. “I’m an option?”

“You are,” Cady chuckles. “And Damian is up for Prom King, too.” Sure enough, Damian and Elijah are both listed along with all the Mathletes.

Janis is stunned. It doesn’t make up for the years of torment they faced at the hands of these kids, and she doesn’t think for a second that she’s going to win, but it’s a nice gesture at least. A start.

They’re each allowed to vote for two people for each category. Janis votes Cady and Karen for queen and Damian and Elijah for king. Cady votes Janis and Gretchen as queen and also votes Damian and Elijah as king.

Once they slip their papers into the boxes, the DJ announces a slow song. “May I have this dance?” Janis asks in a suave voice, reaching out a hand for her girlfriend.

“You may,” Cady giggles, taking her hand and following her onto the dance floor. Janis kisses Cady’s knuckles gently before letting go to hold her by the waist, Cady grinning up at her as she holds onto Janis’ neck.

“I love you,” Janis murmurs as they start swaying softly to the rhythm of the song. Cady pushes up briefly to brush their lips together.

“I love you too,” she whispers when she pulls away again. “I’m so glad we got this night together.”

“I am too. We’ve come so far in a year, it’s crazy,” Janis responds.

“Crazy indeed,” Cady chuckles. “I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Janis says, surprising Cady by dipping her. She squeals and clings tighter to her neck, but giggles when Janis kisses her quickly and pulls her back up.

“You’re so smooth,” Cady teases as the song ends.

“Thanks,” Janis responds as she kisses her again. “God, my feet are killing me.”

“Take your shoes off then, Jellybean. The ticket lady will hold them for you,” Cady says. “Mine kind of hurt too, we can just walk around barefoot.”

They both sit on the bleachers to take their heels off, breathing a sigh of relief once they’re back to their normal height. Now that they’re free, they meet back up with Damian and Elijah, letting loose and dancing crazily to the loud music, jumping up and down as they laugh. It’s freeing, dancing like nobody’s watching in a room packed with people.

After several songs, the DJ announces that it’s time to reveal the winners of prom king and queen. All the nominees head up on stage next to him, Janis and Cady holding hands as they make their way up.

They announce the kings first. “Your nominees for prom king are: Damian Hubbard, Elijah French, Kevin Gnapoor, Marwan Jitla, and Tyler Kimble!” The DJ calls dramatically. “And your kings for tonight are... Damian and Elijah!”

Janis and Cady both cheer happily as their friends receive their crowns, clapping for them excitedly.

“Moving to your nominees for prom queen! Caddy Heron, Janis Sarkisian, Regina George, Gretchen Wieners, and Karen Smith!” Cady pouts a little at the mispronunciation of her name. “And your prom queens tonight are... Caddy and Janis!”

Janis blinks rapidly, stunned. They’re handed the tiaras to put on each other, Cady having to pop up on her tippy toes to reach that high. Janis places the crown tenderly on Cady’s head, sliding it in place around her updo. Cady bravely decides to pull her down into a brief, sweet kiss. A few people clap for them then, which is nice.

They’re led off stage after that, Janis still in shock. How the hell did I win? These people all hated me. If Cady finds out later that Regina had threatened everyone into voting for them, she’d take that secret to her grave.

They decide to stick around for one more slow song, this time with Cady leading. Janis leans down and presses their foreheads together, looking into Cady’s clear blue eyes happily.

Cady tries to dip her, too, nearly dropping her on the ground until Janis barely manages to pull herself back up at the last second. Cady looks very sheepish, until Janis kisses her cheek gently to make her smile.

“Can we go home?” Cady asks quietly once the song is finished, pressing close to Janis. “I feel buzzy.”

‘Buzzy’ is how Cady had taken to describing the feeling of being overstimulated. She surprisingly isn’t feeling too overloaded, given the amount of noise and the lights, but knows it will get to be too much for her soon.

“Of course, baby. Go get our stuff, I’ll go tell Damian,” Janis answers, kissing her sweetly and pushing her towards the door.

She heads to fetch Damian, who is deep in conversation with Elijah. She doesn’t want to interrupt, but he spies her lurking and waves her over. “Caddy and I are going home, she’s tired.”

“Okay, I’ll come say bye,” Damian says, kissing Elijah on the cheek and standing to follow her. Janis leads him over to where Cady is waiting with her bag and both pairs of their shoes.

“Bye, little slice,” Damian says, wrapping her in a hug. “See you later.”

“Bye, Dame,” Cady responds, leaning into his embrace as best she can. Damian heads back to his date then, Janis leading Cady by the arm out the doors gently. She taps into her phone to order their Uber home before sitting down on a bench and pulling Cady into her lap.

“Did you have fun, Peanut?” She asks, kissing Cady’s forehead as she squeezes her tightly to help with the sensory overload. Cady nods against her shoulder, too overwhelmed to speak unless she absolutely has to. “Good.”

It’s a cold night for springtime, and Janis notices Cady start shivering slightly in her embrace. She pulls away for a second to tug off her blazer, wrapping it gently around her girlfriend and pulling her back in. Cady kisses her jaw a few times in thanks.

————

Once they get back to Janis’ house, Cady leads Janis quickly up towards her bedroom, desperate to get out of her now heavy and uncomfortable gown. Janis hands her some makeup wipes as she pulls out Cady’s emergency sleepover pjs from her dresser, as well as some shorts and a sweatshirt for herself.

Cady takes the pjs once all her itchy makeup has been removed, but tugs gently on the hem of Janis’ sweatshirt, silently asking for one too. Janis goes to fetch another one, kissing her cheek as Cady heads to get changed.

Cady is scratching at her head when she returns, trying to relieve some of the ache caused by her hairstyle. “Help?” She asks quietly, barely above a whisper. Talking takes energy she doesn’t have to spare at the moment.

Janis nods, gesturing for her to sit between her legs as she removes the crown, starting to unravel the mess of pins and ties holding up her hair. Cady breathes a sigh of relief once her long curls are flowing down her back again, and her eyes flutter shut as Janis starts stroking a brush through them gently to remove any excess product.

Once she’s finished, Cady ties her hair up loosely so it’s not in her face before turning to face Janis. “Now you.”

Janis switches spots with her, taking a wipe to take off her own makeup as Cady starts gently brushing the gel and hairspray out. They’d still have to shower tomorrow, but that can wait. They’re both exhausted.

Once Janis’ hair is sufficiently soft, Cady lies down and pulls Janis to lie on top of her. Janis was worried about squishing her the first few times, since Cady is so much smaller, but Cady had explained that the pressure didn’t hurt and actually was very helpful when she was upset.

Janis tugs the duvet over them gently, kissing Cady goodnight before tucking her face into her shoulder and closing her eyes.

“I love you.” Cady mutters quietly, rubbing Janis’ back.

“I love you too, baby. Sweet dreams.” Janis says back, popping an eye open to look at the two tiaras resting on her nightstand. She grins happily before shutting her eyes once more and drifting off to dreamland.

Tonight belonged to us.

hope you enjoyed! if you want to check it out, I put some images of their outfits and such in this chapter of my work on wattled (titled cadnis oneshots so I can get some f*cking sleep). I'm sorry I didn't put them here, but I frankly do not have the energy.

requests are still open! please leave them either here, on my wattpad, or on my ao3. I've been getting a fair few recently (thank you all!) so it may take a few weeks for yours to be published, but I am doing my damndest to crank these out and will get to everyone's eventually.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady x janis #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

The Modern Wife

HAN JISUNG REGENCY AU

A/n: Literally I’ve been so obsessed with the idea of this I had to mess up my schedule and write this. Also, omg will you look at that edit job??? I have never used photoshop in my life and look at that!!! Also special shoutout to Celi @poeticallyspaghetti for helping me so much with this

See how many Austen quotes you can spot!

Warnings: Slight cursing, mention of violence

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: Miss Y/n L/n is the talk of the town. She is one of four gorgeous sisters. Her father is a successful politician who travels frequently back and forth to London. She is beautiful, poised, and absolutely unobtainable. Every man in town had been asking for her hand, all except a certain Colonel. Things are turned upside down when Miss L/n is forced into an engagement.

Genre: history!au, enemies to lovers!au, regency!au, historical!au, pride, and prejudice!au

“OW! Not so tight, Harry!” I screamed holding onto my bedposts as my maid and friend, Harriet pulled the laces tight on my corset. “Harry, are you trying to kill me?” I said with a laugh. The small thin plank of wood in the boning pressed hard against my chest and pushed up my breasts as high as they would go for no reason other than to put them on display.

Ironic that it was unseemly to show my ankle but my cleavage could parade about the world openly. For the next forty minutes, Harriet proceeded to help me get dressed. The pale yellow frock complimented my skin nicely. Harriet always knew what I looked best in. She sat me down at my vanity while she fixed my hair, untwisted the fabric that tied my curls. Before she could finish my eyes glimpsed movement outside my window.

“Cecilia!”

Bolting up from the chair I ran down the hall, fabric billowing behind me. I rushed passed several servants as I made my way down the sunlit passageway. “Miss Y/n,” our butler, Mr. Carson, exclaimed as I nearly ran him over. Thankfully he did not drop the glassware on his tray. “I’m sorry, Carson!” “Don’t worry about it, my lady.”

With a bright smile, I burst through the large entryway doors and was met by a gracious morning breeze, A carriage had pulled up in the driveway and a woman a few years older than me was exiting the cab with the help of a footman.

“Cecilia! You’re home!”

“Y/n!”

Wrapping my arms around my elder sister I gave her the biggest hug imaginable. The sound of our laughter could most likely be heard from anywhere on the grounds. I was once again reunited with my sister. She had not been gone but a few months since her last visit, but it felt like ages to me.

“I should hope I get the same welcoming as my wife,” Turning away, I saw my sister’s husband stepping out of the carriage, a kind smile on his face. “Of course, Chan. I could never forget my brother in law.” He gently gave me a hug before returning me back to my sister.

“Is father home?” I shook my head, leading my sister arm in arm into the house. “No, he has yet to return from London.” She scoffed and held my hand tighter. “But, it is the beginning of spring! How can he miss your birthday?” Carson greeted Cecilia and Chan with a warm welcome before we continued to the parlor.

“Do not worry. Papa said he would return in the next few days in time for the ball on Saturday. Tomorrow we girls will simply have to celebrate my nineteenth birthday together.” Chan left us to talk while he helped tried to help Carson and the footmen with the bags, much to Carson’s displeasure. Chan never could really get used to having servants do things for him.

“Where are Charlotte and Emma?” Cecilia was referring to our two younger sisters. Charlotte had turned sixteen this year and little Emma was now ten. “They are in lessons right now. Papa is still positively adamant we are all educated to the highest degree.” “Of course, he is.”

My sister filled me in on everything that had happened in Dover in the past few months. She and Chan had moved there after they got married, much against father’s will. “Oh, Chan got a letter before we left. He said the Colonel was in London and met up with father. He might come back to Surrey for the spring.”

Cecilia laughed as disdain took over my face. “Wonderful. There go my hopes of a lovely spring.” “He isn’t that bad, Y/n.” The Colonel was around Cecilia’s age, in his very early twenties. He was the one who introduced Chan to Cecilia. Chan had served in his infantry and had grown quite close to the young officer.

Father adored the Colonel. Anytime the Colonel returned to Surrey, Papa would insist on us inviting him to our residence. Everyone loved the Colonel. He was a brave man who had done his country proud in the war, taking over his father’s position in the midst of battle after he tragically perished. There was just something about him that made me hate him. He walked around like he was entitled to everything around him.

“Does that mean he’ll be returning with father?” Cecilia nodded as her husband entered the room. “Who?” Chan asked sitting across from us. “Colonel Han,” Chan nodded with a soft smile on his face, adjusting his jacket. “I assume so. Miss Y/n why are you asking about him? If my memory serves me correctly, the last time he was here you called him ‘Death’s head on a broomstick’,”

“Well, it was rightly deserved. I’m simply asking because I would like to know when to board up Whitewater so that he simply can’t get in.”

Cecilia’s bright blue eyes crinkled as she laughed. Running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. In raced two girls who practically jumped on Cecilia. “Cecilia, we missed you!” Emma sang in her soft voice. Charlotte went and gave Chan a gentle hug as well.

The next day we celebrated my birthday. Chan and Cecilia got me a lovely gift, a gorgeous leather-bound sketchbook. I knew there was no way they could possibly afford something of such quality, but Cecilia insisted I take it. Carson and the staff celebrated with us making and sharing a beautiful cake. The next two days went by quickly. Chan worked on his music, the girls continued their studies, and Cecilia and I spent the time walking the grounds and gossiping about anything and everything, with Harriet often joining us

On Thursday afternoon, Charlotte and I were strolling near the banks of the creek, for which our estate was named. The clear water quickly rushed along making almost a soft song with the wind in the trees. Soon, we began to grow tired so we headed back to Whitewater.

As we reached the estate, my eyes were drawn to a carriage and a horse stationed outside. No one was expecting visitors so it must mean father was home. Charlotte and I raced into the house, grins filling our faces.

“Papa! Are you home?” I called out. Charlotte heard voices in the parlor, so we both ventured into the sitting room. “There are the rest of my beautiful daughters!” He exclaimed, getting up and wrapping his arms around us. It felt so good to have my father’s arms wrapped around me again. His familiar smell of burning wood and lavender.

He pulled away and kissed each of our cheeks. “Girls, you remember Colonel Han Jisung.” I tried to hide the grimace on my face but failed. Of course. That’s whose horse was out front. My eyes fell on the man standing near the window. He wore a dark navy overcoat and pristine black boots. While his somewhat smaller and shorter than some of the other military men I had met in the past, there was no doubt about the way he commanded the room. His shaggy brown hair was tousled from the ride back to Surrey.

His dark eyes were hidden as he bowed and took Charlotte’s hand. A proper way to greet a lady. “Yes, unfortunately, I do remember,” I said rolling my eyes. “Believe me, feelings are the same Miss L/n.” The Colonel said giving me a curt bow. Rolling my eyes, I sat down next to Cecilia, who nudged me, giving me a look.

“Papa, how was London?” Charlotte asked happily. Father smiled and sat back down near the fireplace. Mr. Han remained standing near where Chan was sitting. “Perfectly fine. Everything is well. It seems Napoleon’s advances in England have stopped for the time being. Also, I met quite an intriguing man and invited him to have dinner with us this evening.”

“Is he handsome, Father?” Charlotte asked. “Charlotte, do not ask such things.” Cecilia scolded, gently pushing our sister back in her seat. “I should think so. Colonel, you are welcome to join us for supper as well.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You do most days anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring the look he sent my way I turned back to father. “Nonsense! You shall join us!” The hour seemed to drag on. Father and Mr.Han seemed to only talk about the war. Papa only paused to ask Cecilia and Chan about Dover and Chan’s music. To be fair he only asked because Cecilia forced him to be civil with Chan about his work.

Soon, The Colonel decided he should return to his estate and unpack his things. “Thank you for your time. The visit was lovely.” He said graciously. Giving everyone a short goodbye, he mounted his horse and made the travel to Ruxfield Manor a few miles to the west of Whitewater.

“That was an eventful visit,” Cecilia said wrapping her arm in mine.

“It was a delightful visit-perfect in being much too short.”

She laughed at my comment as the two of us climbed the stairs to get ready for dinner in a few hours. Harriet helped me change for dinner and pinned up my hair leaving a few twisting strands loose framing my face. “Carson told me your father and his guests are already in the sitting room,” I sighed picking up a handheld mirror as she clasped a necklace around my neck.

“Well, then we should join them.” I stood up, smoothing the dark green fabric of the dress Harriet had picked out. As I exited my bedroom, the door next to me opened as well to reveal my sister and her husband dressed for dinner. As we approached the parlor, Carson opened the door and announced us.

“Miss Y/n and Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

All heads turned towards us as we entered the room. Two men stood up at the announcement. One was the Colonel, purely out of respect for the women of the household. His eyes never even moved to the door. The other man wore a dark almost velvet-like coat and he carried himself with high prestige.

He had deep brown eyes and sharp features. “My darling girls,” Father exclaimed before setting down his glass of sherry. He came and kissed both of our cheeks. “Father,” I said, latching onto his arm. He led us over to the men and our sisters.

“Mr. Han,” I said trying not to roll my eyes. He gave me a curt nod and then returned to his seat. “Y/n play nice,” Papa said jokingly. “I am, Papa!”

“Miss Y/n,” The other man said bowing before me. I couldn’t help but give him a questioning look as he took my hand and placed a soft and chaste kiss on my skin. “Oh, and to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Angel, this is Mr. Lee. He is a barrister in London. Minho, this is my second eldest daughter.” Mr. Lee stood up straight and looked me over with a gentle, but mischievous smile. “The pleasure is all mine. Your father has told me so much about you.”

“Oh has he now! All good things I hope!”

“You can you tell the difference?” The Colonel mumbled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh please, you are hardly agreeable yourself.”

“I do not wish people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of being forced into casual pleasantries.”

Thankfully, Carson entered the room, saving the Colonel and myself from getting into yet another altercation. “Dinner is ready to be served in the dining room.” Mr. Han scoffed when Minho bowed once again and offered me his arm. The eight of us ventured into the dining room where our new light bulbs brightened up the space from the ceiling. Father was obsessed with every new invention.

Papa took his place at the head of the table, the girls on either side of him. Cecilia sat across from her husband and the Colonel was seated next to her and across from me. Mr. Lee was seated at the other end of the table.

Polite conversation was heard throughout dinner. The girls discussed their studies with father, who then bragged about our education to Mr. Lee. Dinner was lovely as always. Mr. Lee was beyond courteous and thanked Carson and the staff for the meal. We engaged in polite conversation. Mr. Lee seemed to pride himself in small talk because the conversation never got any bigger. “You know green is my favorite color. It is almost as if you wore that dress to see me smile.”

To be frank he was quite boring. He seemed no different than the other men I had met except for the fact he seemed fascinated by the cats on his estate. Cecilia sent me a pitiful glance and I did my best to hide my expression from Father.

“Doori is just so mischievous. And Soongi! You would love Soongi!” Cecilia stifled a laugh as I downed the rest of the wine in my glass. I was too preoccupied forcing the alcohol down my throat that I didn’t notice Mr. Han’s soft laughter at my struggle with Mr. Lee.

“Since we are all here and getting along so well, I would like to say something,” Father announced to the room. Carson ushered the footmen out of the room and back to the kitchen before turning back to Father at full attention. Every eye at the table was on Papa.

“After much discussion and thought, I have decided that it is time for Y/n to be married.”

All eyes turned to me. I froze and looked around the table. Excuse me? When did my father talk to me about this? He was just marrying me off to some random noble?

“Mr. Lee and I have agreed. We would like to announce an engagement by the end of the summer.”

This time all eyes turned to Mr. Lee at the other end of the table. “What?” Cecilia says breaking the silence that had lasted for much too long. I could do nothing but stare at the table. There were too many emotions flying around and none of them were particularly good let alone ladylike. Everyone, even the Colonel looked between my father and Mr. Lee with widened eyes. Chan watched his wife struggling to comprehend my fate. The girls stared at me looking for an answer. I felt the Colonel’s stare like a weight, when I looked up he was looking anywhere except my face. He let out a hefty sigh with an emotionless expression as he soon became fascinated with the chandelier.

“Did you think to ask me how I felt?” Papa looked at me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I didn’t think you would much care,” All of my sisters seemed shocked at his words. Father had always been so set on us making our own decisions. He always wanted us to be happy, especially after our mother had passed.

“Just because Cecilia decided she did not want to marry a noble doesn’t mean you can pass this onto me!” Cecilia looked down at her plate. It was no secret that Papa was outraged at her marriage to Chan. “This has nothing to do with your sister.”

“You are sending me away! Why not just make this punishment even worse? Send me off with the Colonel, make my life completely miserable!”

“Y/n L/n!” Father yelled standing up.

“Father you are at fault here too,” Cecilia said standing up. She rushed over and led me out of the room and up the stairs. When Harriet saw us down the hall she rushed to us and opened the door to my bedroom. “Did you hear, Harry?” You looked at the girl who sadly nodded. Of course, she had heard. People in France had heard the argument between me and Papa. Cecilia helped Harriet calm me down and change before placing a kiss on my forehead and leaving to confer with her husband. Slowly I slipped into a deep sleep hoping to forget the events of this night.

The next afternoon my sister and I strolled through the lanes of Surrey on our way to the dress shop. Cecilia had convinced me to come out and get a new dress for the ball tomorrow night with her. Despite my protests, she and Harriet dragged me out of bed and helped slip by my father’s study and into town.

I had to admit, I was thankful to be away from Whitewater. Walking into the dress shop with my sister on my arm felt freeing. Like I wasn’t about to be engaged to a man I had absolutely no interest in.

Breathing in the smell of the wood and the fabrics put a smile on my face. Cecilia ran over to the rolls of blue fabric. I had missed coming to the seamstress with my older sister. In Dover Chan and Cecilia didn’t have enough money to get a new dress more than once or twice a year, so Cecilia was thrilled to come with me.

“What color do you think you would like?” Cecilia shouted from over her shoulder, pulling out a dress with baby blue fabric and white lace. I shrugged and sorted through the different dresses. “I will wear anything but green. Minho would not stop talking about how I wore his favorite color at dinner.” Cecilia laughed as I brushed passed a light green ensemble without hesitation.

“Why don’t we send you in black since it is going to be your funeral anyway,” Cecilia said throwing a black frock at me. I laughed and returned the dress to the seamstress. “Y/n, what about this?” She handed me a gorgeous red dress that was embroidered with pearls and gold thread.

“I have not worn red since we were little girls. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” The seamstress helped us try on the dresses before we paid for them and changed back. Cecilia laughed as I recounted the conversation with Mr. Lee as we walked out of the shop. I felt uneasy. Like something was off. Looking around I saw several young men from the town walking about and standing near shops but they all seemed to be looking anywhere but me, which was very abnormal.

“Do you think they heard about the engagement? It isn’t even official yet!” Cecilia said, reading my mind. An exasperated sigh left my chest. “Nor will it be. I will marry Lee Minho over my dead body.”

“Oh, Miss Y/n!” a voice called out from across the street.

Looking for the source of the deep voice I found Lee Felix, Colonel Han’s aide. And of course, next to him, was Colonel Han Jisung himself. My sister laughed as the Colonel and I both grimaced. Despite the second protests of the day, Cecilia dragged me over to greet the two soldiers.

Han and Felix gave the two of us military level bows and Felix greeted us happily. “I see you two ladies are enjoying today’s fine weather.” Mr. Han said looking around at the scenery, his hands behind his back and his posture incredibly straight. “Yes, Y/n and I were out shopping for an ensemble for the ball tomorrow.”

Felix’s grin grew three times larger. “I see that!” He said pointing to the folded dresses in our arms. “Oh Colonel, Miss Y/n picked out a red dress! What a coincidence!” Han spared me and the dress in my arms a glance before scoffing and looking at Felix. “What is a coincidence? Do tell,” I said, a smirk falling on my lips. “Jisung was just saying how gorgeous the red roses were at Ruxfield.”

“Ow-” Cecilia nudged my stomach with an innocent grin on her sweet oval face. “Y/n just adores roses! She was sketching them in the garden, just the other day.” Cecilia’s blue eyes sparkled as she nudged me once again. What was she getting at? They were just flowers.

The Colonel looked up at my words, his eyes slightly widening. He quickly recovered and trained his eyes on the ground. “Well, Felix and I have much to attend to. I am sure we shall meet again tomorrow night.” I rolled my eyes as Han mounted his horse, Felix following close behind.

“Come, we must prepare for tomorrow night, given this new information!”

“Cecilia! What new information? Stop pulling on my arm!”

The carriage rumbled to a stop in front of the Hall. My father the girls and I were all in one cab, while Chan and Cecilia rode in a separate carriage. A footman opened the door and helped me down from the cab. He gently took each of my sisters’ hands as they exited as well. The music swelled as we entered the Hall with our father in front of us.

Emma quickly ran off to the table filled with sweets and hour devours, and Charlotte was towed away by her friends. “Miss L/n!” Turning, I saw Mr. Lee pushing his way through the crowd. Wonderful. The last person I wanted to see. Like a leech, Mr. Lee latched himself onto my arm. “Are you quite good at dancing, Miss L/n? I fancy myself quite the dancer. They do all the latest court dances in London you see.”

“If you would excuse me, Mr. Lee, I am quite parched,” I said interrupting the never ending stream of words. “Yes, quite alright. I shall miss every second you are parted from me!” Minho said placing a kiss on my hand. Begrudgingly, I plastered a smile on my face and maneuvered my way through the crowd.

Spotting my sister’s golden brown hair, I moved through the flood of people. Her beautiful baby blue dress stood out against the dark colored suits and dresses around her. She stood next to her husband and another man. “Cecilia, thank goodness.” I heaved out in a sigh. “My dear sister, you look ravishing! Don’t you think so, Mr. Han?” Turning I saw The Colonel dressed in fine navy blue. His eyes drunk me in with a disenchanted expression.

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at the present to give consequence to young ladies with such ‘modern’ attributes.”

Only to uphold my social presence and reputation did I refrain from slapping him. How could he say something so ghastly right to my face. Before I could fire back Chan interrupted, questioning his friend. “Han, do you plan on joining in the festivities? I certainly plan on bringing my adoring Cecilia onto the dance floor tonight. There is absolutely nothing like dancing after all. It is one of the first refinements of a polished society.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and placing his hands behind his back in a seemingly military sense.

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.” “Not every savage-” Cecilia ventured. “I assure you, Mrs. Bang. Every savage can. Even damn Napoleon, so no I do not think I shall partake in the such an adolescent event.”

The urge to shove his head up his ass grew stronger within me by the second, but I don’t think anything would be able to move past the gargantuan log shoved up there already. “Well, my dearest, would you accompany me onto the dance floor.” Chan said with a bright smile, offering a hand to his wife. Her lace gloved hand slid into his with a smile. Just as they were leaving a voice called out over the sea of guests.

“Miss L/n! Where are you my love? Miss Y/n?” My eyes widened as I saw Minho’s head bobbing through the crowd. “Ah! Miss Y/n! There you are!” He said pointing in my direction.

“Oh lord help me. Quick!” Without thinking I grabbed the nearest coat sleeve and pulled the man out onto the dance floor, a new dance beginning. “What in all hell?” He exclaimed, eyes turning to saucers.

A sigh of relief left my lips as Minho walked right passed my previous location, still looking for me. Music swelled and the couples around me started dancing so I joined in with my partner. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on Mr. Han standing in front of me, gently holding my hand and bowing. I curtsied to him and focused on looking for Mr. Lee in the crowd. Hopefully he wasn’t too close. Absentmindedly I followed the steps of the dance, my palm pressing lightly against the Colonel’s as we moved through the steps and turns of the dance.

Halfway through the song, my eyes followed Mr. Lee as he searched for me into another room. This time a sigh of relief escaped as my focus turned back to the dance. I then became very aware of Mr. Han’s hand on my waist. “Mr. Han, I didn’t realize you could dance.” I jested a smirk playing on my lips. His face remained the same but there was something about his eyes that was different.

“Miss L/n, I said any savage can dance. I am not excluded.”

I was left without a retort. I simply stared at him as he circled and came behind me, one hand on my waist, the other gently holding my outstretched hand. The feeling of his chest against my shoulder was unfamiliar but somehow inviting. He smelled like gun powder and old books. My eyes couldn’t seem to break away from his as we turned and moved with the music.

The entire world seemed to dissolve away and all I could see was how he was looking at me. How he was holding me gently and cautiously, as if I was a butterfly in his palm. He had a softness in his eyes I had never seen before. The kind that showed a tortured past. Had he always been this handsome?

Somehow I had never noticed the smooth lines of his face. The soft curve of his lips. The sharp angle of his jaw and the color of his warm tan skin from being in the sun on the battlefield. I had been completely oblivious. I was too stubborn to see the honorable man in front of me. I was even unkind to him on so many occasions yet he looked at me with such a hidden admiration.

Our movements came to a stop and the Colonel stayed by my side, my hand still resting gently over his. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his stare.

“Miss Y/n,” A voice called. Everyone was looking at me. Looking at us. Confusion and suggestion plastered on their faces. Suddenly the Colonel’s hands removed themselves he moved a good distance away from me.

“Next time you would like to hide from your fiancee, use someone else as a shield. I would much rather not be involved in the manner.”

With a sharp, curt bow the Colonel excused himself and rushed off, disappearing into the bustling and whispering crowd. The gossip seemed to stop when Emma ran up to me, her big bright eyes sparkling. Leaving the moment between myself and Mr. Han behind, I danced with my sisters the rest of the night and did my best to fend off my soon to be fiancee.

Hours later the evening drew to a close. Emma was already asleep and had returned to Whitewater with father a few hours earlier in our carriage. Charlotte and I walked out of the Hall our arms linked and laughing about Lady Moss’s hair piece. “Can you believe it?” Lottie laughed out of breath.

A yell from the street pulled our attention. “Your master stepped over the line!” A huge crowd had surrounded two very young men near the road. A fight had broke out between two footmen. I winced seeing a blow land on the smaller one’s face and another to his cut. My eyes widened when I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Felix. Colonel Han’s aide.

“Lottie, go find Chan and Cecilia.” Nodding, she ran back into the hall to find our sister. I pushed my way through the crowd trying to see what was going on. Felix was doing his best to hold his ground against the other boy. It looked like Minho’s steward, Seungmin. “I have no control over what the Colonel does. You’re crazy!” Felix said blocking another swing.

“Hey! Break it up! Stop this juvenile combat!” A voice boomed. Han himself pushed through the crowd and plowed through Seungmin, a hand clutching the collar of the boys shirt. “You do not touch him. If your quarrel is with me then face me so. Do not be a coward and go after my aide.” There was a fire in his eyes and Seungmin looked terrified. The power Han exuded would frighten any man.

Seungmin, regaining his composure, threw a punch at the Colonel, landing on his jaw. While he seemed mostly unaffected, Seungmin took the opportunity to wriggle out of Jisung’s tight grasp. Han scoffed, and threw of his coat, rolling up his sleeves as well. “You will certainly regret doing that.” The crowd cheered as Han took a strike. His slim form allowed him to move with agility and strike with force. It was clear that Seungmin was done for.

Another person burst through the crowd as Han threw Seungmin off of him. Minho caught his steward, pulling him up by the arm. He took Seungmin’s cheek in his hand and examined the boy’s beaten face, before handing him off to another footman. His glare then targeted the Colonel who stood out of breath and dark brown hair tousled.

“How dare you assault my boy?” Minho screamed, pointing a finger at Mr. Han. “Do not jump to assumptions, my friend. Your boy att-” “First you try to seduce my fiancee in front of the entire town- then you assault my aide!” Han let out a breathy laugh before pointing at himself. “Me? You think I would ever be interested in the a woman such as Miss L/n?” His finger moved to point at me, but my glare in his direction was ignored.

“Your man attacked mine first! It is you who needs to apologize! I will not have my staff humiliated and beaten by scum like you or your servants.” Han said beginning to get an almost erratic look in his eyes. “That’s it,” Minho said throwing his coat onto the ground. Without hesitation he leaped into the fight. The crowd cheered them on as I watched in horror.

“Stop! Stop this right now!” I screamed, but no one listened. Mr. Lee’s fist connected with Han’s temple, making his eyes go dark for a moment, before returning. Mr. Lee took the opportunity to throw Han over his shoulder and onto the ground before my feet.

“Mr. Lee, stop right this instant! Both of you! There is no use fighting over me! this is complete nonsense.” Mr. Han’s eyes rolled over to me as he sat up. He winced as he moved to stand up. It took all of my power not to break his stare.

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn about you.”

Why did his words wound me? The hurt must have shown on my face for a brief moment because once again his eyes softened. Before he could say something Mr. Lee took a cheap shot, his fist flying across Han’s cheek. My eyes did not fail to miss the drops of blood that landed on the dirt. Han wasted no time in fighting back.

“ENOUGH!” I screamed. Reputation be damned. I was finished. I had enough. Storming up, with all my strength I pushed the men apart. The two seemed insistent on continuing the brawl. The only thing stopping the Colonel from destroying Mr. Lee was my hands pushing against his shoulders. “You know nothing about me!” My loathsome future fiancee shouted.

“You are only trying to buy her from her father; like she is some prize!” Han sneered. “She is not some timepiece or your stupid pet!” Hearing a yell from Mr. Lee I turned to stop him only to feel a strike against my head. My vision started to blur and my head started to spin before I felt myself fall to the ground.

Every person froze. Mr. Lee and the Colonel watched in horror as I collapsed to the ground barely conscious. Not a second later Chan burst through the crowd with Cecilia in tow, breaking up the fight. She gasped seeing my body on the ground. Quickly she rushed to my side and cradled my head in her lap.

“Quick! Someone help!” Felix, still recovering from his beating, rushed over without hesitating. With some struggle, he got my partially limp body in his arms as Cecilia led him to where our carriage should have been. Han seemed to snap out of his shock, and he rushed to Felix’s side. “Mr. L/n took their carriage. Felix, we’ll go in ours.” Nodding, Felix turned and rushed to the Colonel’s cab and gently placed me on the seat. Cecilia placed my head in her lap as Han jumped into the cab with us, worry painted all over his face.

Felix jumped up into the coach’s seat. Han pounded on the carriage wall and screamed for Felix to go. “Felix, hurry! To Whitewater. Take the back road it’s faster!” Han prayed that they could return to my estate fast enough to call a doctor. When the carriage pulled to a stop, the Colonel took me from Cecilia’s lap and held me in his arms, letting my head roll onto his chest.

“Into the house! Carson! Carson, call the physician!”

Mr. Han carried me up the steps of the porch and impatiently yelled at Felix to hold the door. The poor boy rushed up and let Han carry me through the doorway. Han cautiously handed my semi-conscious body over to Carson. His brow furrowed, concern flooding his features as he watched my loving staff rush to my aid. Carson placed me gently on a sofa and Cecilia carefully undid the tight curls in my hair so my head had somewhat less pain.

Han could do nothing but stand off to the side watching in distress. “Miss Bang...please let me offer my assistance-”

“You have done enough,”

Cecilia did not mean her words to come out as harsh as they did. He knew that. He scolded himself at his thoughts. ‘If only Y/n had not gotten in the way.’ ‘Lee Minho will pay for what he has done.’ A touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Turning he saw Felix, a frown on his face. “Sir, we should return to Ruxfield. I will be sure to inquire of Miss L/n’s health in the morning.” Almost as if he was giving him no choice, Felix guided the Colonel back to his carriage and the two departed.

The next morning I awoke to find both Cecilia and Harriet sleeping beside me. Harriet even in her sleep was still holding cloth wrapped ice to my forehead. Sensing my movement, Harriet woke up and asked millions of questions about how I was feeling.

Cecilia then woke up not long after. She recounted what happened after the fight and then left to let me change for the day. The next week went by with no word from the Colonel. Felix came by the first morning to give his apologies at the Colonel’s request. Sadly, Mr. Lee visited almost daily. I had taken to sketching in the book gifted to me by my sister, hoping this would come as a distraction from remembering certain interactions from that night.

The afternoon was perfect. A light rain had come in the morning, leaving droplets on the the flowers in the garden. Now the sun was out and shining, as I sat on a bench outside with my sketchbook amongst the flowers. “My lady you have a visitor.” Carson said from the stone walkway. The garden had somewhat of a keyhole stone path, with a fountain and stone circle at the center. Mr.Carson stood near the fountain. Through the water you could see the outline of a man’s over coat. “If it is Mr. Lee send him away. I am in no mood to entertain him today.”

“Mr. Lee is not the one asking for visitation,” A smooth deep voice spoke as its owner moved from behind the fountain.

Colonel Han stood a little in front of Carson, looking at you with a serious expression. The same he wore every day of his entire life, except it his eyes. His eyes once again held that softness, as if it was a sight only you could bring out of him. “I’d have to jump off a bridge if I was that cat loving bigot.” A hint of a smile slid onto his lips.

He was correct. Mr. Han was nothing like Mr. Lee. Han was rough. He had edges. He never primped himself like Mr.Lee did. I couldn’t help but drink him in. His dark hair was shaggy and he only wore a simple shirt and the old navy overcoat he seemingly never took off. His boots were dirty and scuffed, but well taken care of. A sign of his daring acts but military discipline. A blush came over my cheeks as I remembered the feeling of dancing with him, his chest against my back.

“Jis- Colonel... to what do I owe the pleasure.” I closed my sketchbook and placed it beside me on the stone bench. “Papa is in London, but he should return by nightfall.” In all of my life I had never been nervous in front of a man other than my father. I believed a woman should be a strong and elegant vision, not simply standing behind a man but beside him if at all. So why could I not meet Mr. Han’s eyes.

“I’m not here to see your father. I’m here to see you.”

My eyes widened at his words. Nothing was different about him. He still stood straight with his arms behind his back, keeping a respectable distance form me. His face remained stoic as if he was reading from a war plan. “Thank you, Carson. You may leave us,”

It was Han’s turn to be flustered upon hearing my words. Being the respectful man he was he always adhered to the social protocol of a woman and man never being alone unless with a chaperone. Carson raised his brow in question, but complied, entering the house.

A moment of awkward silence followed. Then another. And another. It was almost like Mr. Han had lost the ability to function after being alone with me. Nervously, I played with the fabric of my dress. What could he possibly want to discuss with me. We have hardly had a pleasant conversation in our entire lives. “Miss Ln-” His words halted when I looked up at him. His eyes went immediately to my face. I knew exactly what he was looking at. The bruise from that night. It was lighter now, having had a week to heal, but still visible.

“Oh Y/n...” He reached out as if to touch my face, but thought better of it and pulled back. There was no longer a wide expanse between us. He now stood only a few feet away from where I sat. “We are not even wed, and yet I have already forsaken you and broken a valiant code...” He muttered under an aggravated sigh.

He was grateful that I didn’t hear it. “If you are indeed here for me, please enlighten me of your purpose for I am in the dark.” I said pushing a strand of loose hair around my face. As he opened his mouth to speak a deep voice called his name.

“Colonel Han!”

Felix came running out of Whitewater. He was out of breath and his hair and clothes were out of place, like he had just gotten off his horse. He handed on a sealed envelope and whispered something in Mr. Han’s ear. Immediately, Han opened the letter with his long nimble fingers. His eyes quickly scanned the letter, leaving me in anxious silence.

“What is it?” I asked on the edge of my seat. Han handed the letter back to Felix and whispered something back to him. Felix spared me a glance before leaving us alone.

The Colonel raked a hand through his already slightly disheveled hair and turned his back to me. Something was compelling me to reach out to him. “Jisung,” He turned at the sound of his name. My mind had yet to register the fact this was the first time I had actually said his name. He on the other hand, did notice.

“What is the matter?” He sighed and looked back at the house. Felix was standing by the door, discussing something with Carson. “Napoleon has resumed his advances on the border.” It took me a moment for me to process the information. This was news that was not for me to hear. “Why-”

“They are calling me to the front line.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Felix gave me my orders just now. I leave in the morning.”

This meant so many things. This meant our country was once again at war with France. It meant Father would have to stay in London. It meant Mr. Han would be sent to the heat of the battle commanding easily a thousand men in combat. It meant Jisung...was being sent into battle that he might not come back from.

Why did I even care? I was in line to be engaged. Granted it was to a spinless snob I practically loathed. “I may be a bitter married woman when you returned. Then our arguments will be that much more interesting.” Another look flashed across his face. Almost like he was disappointed that was what I had chosen to say. Like he had wished I had asked him to stay.

“Let’s hope for the both of us that is not true when I return.”

Before I could understand his words Felix returned, this time with Carson behind him. He came to Mr. Han’s side and urgently whispered something in his ear. Han nodded and brushed him off before turning back to me, his eyes growing soft. Gently, he took my hand. All I could do was watch as he brought it up to his lips and softly kissed my knuckles.

It was an action I had experienced many times from many men. All seeking for my hand in marriage. But this. This was different. This felt intimate. Like the kiss was burning itself into my skin as if to mark me for life. His eyes joined mine as he pulled away.

“Colonel, we have to go.” Felix said breaking the silence. Han slid his hand from mine and he turned to follow Felix back to Ruxfield to prepare for is departure. My body could do nothing but watch him leave.

“You’re all grown up now, Miss Y/n.” Carson said. He had the kindest smile on his face as he came to sit on the bench, pulling me down with him. “What do you mean, Carson?” He sighed, taking my hand in his. Carson was nothing like my father. He and my mother were very close and Mr. Carson always seemed like a real father figure in my life. He was the one who taught me to dance, and what books I should read, and even how to play poker.

“You are falling in love. I would know that look anywhere.” Love? With the Colonel. Impossible. I despised him. Right? “I am not in love. If I was in love I would be getting married.” He chuckled and patted my hand. “Aren’t you though?”

“Carson, do you see me voluntarily marrying that mess of a man?”

“Are you speaking of Lord Lee or Colonel Han?”

Blinking, the thought crossed my mind. Of course I was talking about Mr. Lee right. I was set to marry him. Was Carson saying I should marry Mr. Han? Marrying Colonel Han Jisung. The thought had never crossed my mind. Now that it did, why did my heart swell.

“Of course I’m speaking of Mr. Lee. Father would forbid anyone else.” Carson nodded, looking over the garden. “So, are you saying there is someone else?” He took my silence as an answer, smiling.

“An unhappy alternative is before you, Y/n. From this day you must be a stranger to one of us. Your father will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Lee, and I would never see you again if you do.”

A warm, fatherly smile filled his eyes. “Do you love him?” There was no question of who he was talking about. “While I have lost my heart, I shall not lose my self control. I will not become one of those silly girls running around with their heads in the clouds controlled by love.” Carson laughed and picked a flower near the bench.

“Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.”

Before I could respond I was interrupted by what seemed like the fourth time today. “Y/’n! Y/n!” Cecilia ran out of the house a grin from ear to ear. Emma and Charlotte followed hot on her heels. Her light blue dress blew behind her as she ran over to us. “Y/n, I’m pregnant!” After blinking a few times I wrapped her up in a hug and cheered. Carson joined us and we all went inside to celebrate Cecilia’s news, leaving the conclusion of my conversation with Carson in the back of my mind.

Spring came and went. Soon came the long months of summer and with it came heavy summer storms. The Whitewater creek was filled to capacity and quite dangerous. Father had come home from London and the tensions had been high ever since he returned. Papa seemed hell bent on my marriage to Mr. Lee.

Every chance he got he brought up the engagement. I was starting to think Carson may have been right. Every mention of Mr.Lee drove me further away from him and made me wonder about another man...far away.

Another man who didn’t write. Not once. I found myself jumping to the door when Carson delivered our mail to our rooms. Weeks passed and still I heard no word from him. Weeks turned into months until it became the middle of summer. Still no word from the Colonel. Not even to my father about the war. I was beginning to worry something had happened. Certainly he wouldn’t forget about me after a goodbye like that? Why did I even care? I hated the man. Yes, I hated the man. I had all the right to hate him if he wasn’t going to send me even one letter.

Another summer storm raged outside my window. “Miss you will have to leave your room sometime.” Harriet said, hanging up some of my laundry. “If Cecilia will not leave her room then I too shall not.” Harriet laughed as I watched the water pelt against the glass. “Miss Y/n, your sister is ordered by the doctor to bed rest. Chan is taking care of her. You are simply sulking over your engagement.”

“I am not sulking over my engagement.”

“Then a certain Colonel perhaps? Maybe the lack of a letter?”

Before I could correct my friend, Carson knocked on the door and entered. “My lady, your father wishes to speak to you in his study.” I sighed, turning back to the window. “Carson, I am in no mood to speak to Papa.” Harsh winds blew the trees in the forest just outside the estate. “My lady, he is leaving for London in an hour. He is insistent on speaking to you.”

Carson gave me a small smile. He was probably right. It was better to simply speak to him before he left than ignore him until he returned home. With a sigh, I got up from my window seat. Harriet straightened my dress and adjusted the loose but proper style she had done to my hair this morning. I knew exactly what awaited me behind the heavy wooden doors. My knuckles softly wrapped against the oak.

“Enter,”

The gruff voice of my father echoed as I opened the door. He sat at his desk writing a letter or some other important document. “Papa, you wanted to talk to me?” I said standing near one of the many bookshelves in his study. “Yes, about your marriage.”

“Papa. I already told you I will not marry Mr. Lee-”

“The date has been set. You will marry Lee Minho in one month’s time.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “Father!” He didn’t even look up from his work. “Do not ‘Father’ me. You knew this was going to happen. You will marry Mr. Lee. You will do as your told. It is your duty as a woman of this household.” What? My what?

“My duty as woman?”

“Yes.”

“Father, I have no duty as woman. Especially to you. I will not marry a man who I do not love. It is not my duty to obey your every command!” This was when he chose to look at me. His eyes turned cold. “Y/n L/n. You are my daughter. You will do as I say!” Rage filled every inch of my body. “No! I will control my own life! I will not marry him and that is final! Times are changing. It is time you changed with them, Father!” The sound of his chair screeching against the wood floor made me flinch. “We are a family of tradition! I will not let your silly misguided modern values change our family!”

His voice boomed loud enough for the entire estate to hear. “What would mother think of this! She would never-” “DO NOT BRING YOUR MOTHER INTO THIS!” A book flew across the room. Never the less I stood my ground, staring straight back at him even though tears threatened to spill over my eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just be-”

“If you are going to continue this kind of behavior then I want you out of Whitewater until you come to your senses!”

A silence followed; the kind that hurt. The kind you could feel- like needles plunging into your skin. Rain continued to fall on the roof and windows like bullets.

“So be it.”

With word I stormed out of the study and towards the door. Shouts from the staff could be heard behind me as I burst through the doors and out into the rain. “My lady! Y/n!” Carson called. My feet carried me to the stables. Grabbing a saddle and mounting the closest horse I rode out into the storm.

Finally able to let tears flow away from any eyes, I screamed. Never had I felt so much agony. My own father was shunning me. The man I admired had abandoned me and was sent to war. The man I despised was forcing me into marriage. My skin burned as harsh rain pelted against it. The wind blew through my hair pulling it loose.

Even through all this pain it felt...freeing. It felt amazing to run through the forest outside of Whitewater, thunder rolling in the air and rain showering down. My heart still wretched in pain. I missed my family, despite our arguments. Most of all I missed Mr. Han, despite our many many differences.

A loud crack boomed through the sky and a flash of white burst in front of my horse. I screamed as the horse reared, throwing me off its back onto the forest floor. I felt a pain against the back of my head upon impact. The horse sprinted away in fear leaving me stranded.

“Help!” I screamed into the dark. My legs struggled to hold themselves up and my vision started to become blurry. It became indecipherable what was rain or tears on my cheeks.

The world started to spin as I walked forward. I must have been ‘walking’ for hours. The cold had started to set in and the rain showed no sign of stopping. By now I was miles away from Whitewater and the closest estate was fifteen miles east.

“Help me...”

My dress was getting heavier and heavier despite the fabric being so light before. It clung to my skin and my hair hung in dark wet strands in front of my face. Over the thundering storm I thought I heard hoof beats through the forest. I must have been hallucinating. Not being able to hold myself up anymore, I leaned against a tree.

“Y/n?”

Definitely hallucinating. I was even hearing his voice now. How did I remember what his voice sounded like? Exhaustion started to set in, the pain and cold making my eyes droop and my body feel even heavier.

“Y/n? Y/n, where are you?”

Through my blurry vision I thought I saw the outline of a horse and rider wearing a dark navy coat. “Y/n!” My strength was wearing thin. Taking a chance, that it wasn’t my imagination I pushed myself off the tree and stumbled forward. “Oh god! Y/n stay where you are I’m coming!”

Hooves pounded against the ground growing closer. My head started ti spin even more as the rider jumped off his horse and rushed to me. Before I could fall, I was taken in a pair of strong arms. The edges of my vision started to blackout, my hearing came in and out, and my body shivered trying to keep itself warm. The person clutched me to their chest and pushed the wet pieces of hair away from my face, desperation in their deep voice. “Miss L/n? Y/n, can you hear me? I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

My throat felt dry. “The Colonel...he-he didn’t write to me. I’m...I’m still waiting for his letter. I can’t leave...” The rider sighed and I tried to make out his face. “Do you know Colonel Han? He told me not to get married...so I didn’t...” The words came out in slurs but they came out nonetheless. The rider clutched my head to their chest gently.

“I know, darling, I’m sorry.” He gently laid me on the forest floor and took off his coat wrapping it around me. “I couldn’t even though I wanted to.” Gently he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and moved over to the horse. Through my haze I heard him curse. Even in my state I knew there was no way he could get myself and him on the horse safely.

“Stay with me, darling.” I tried to focus on the rider’s words as he tried to figure out how to get me to safety. The exhaustion won out, leaving me in the darkness.

Colonel Han kept his head. He couldn’t panic. Not even when he saw her eyes close shut. “Damn.” His dark hair clung to his forehead as he searched for a solution. She wouldn’t last much longer. Her body was already freezing in his arms.

His horse was too high to lift her up and Ruxfield was too far to walk. Why was she outside of Whitewater in the first place? In a storm? Whitewater. Whitewater was no more than five miles away. He could make it there. Forgetting about his exhaustion from the ride back from the front line, Jisung adjusted the woman in his arms, resting her head against his chest and his arms under her legs, he began walking all the way back to Whitewater.

His arms and legs burned as he climbed over the last hill. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Whitewater in the distance through the rain. “We are almost there, darling. Hold on for me.” He just had to hold on long enough to reach Whitewater. To see Y/n was alright.

With his last burst of energy, Jisung burst through the front doors of Whitewater. “HELP! I need a physician! Someone help!” Several staff including Carson rushed up to him, seeing Y/n in his arms. “Quickly, upstairs!” he said, making a path for Jisung. She shivered in his arms as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs.

“Harriet call the physician! Tell him it’s an emergency!” A girl he had scene with Y/n before nodded and rushed to call a doctor. “Y/n! Where is she! Y/n!” Cecilia called rushing to the Colonel. “Cecilia, love, move!” Chan said wrapping the woman in his arms. “Where is Father? He should be here!” She said as they moved passed her. “Your father left for London.” Carson said.

Carson rushed to push open the door to the girl’s bedroom. The Colonel gently placed the girl on her bed and let the staff rush around the room to help her. All he could do was watch as the only woman he had thought about for the past four months lay helpless on her bed, shivering.

A pair of strong hands pushed him softly out of the room and into the hall. He looked up to find Chan. “Han, you are freezing.” “I am fine,” He tried to get a look back into the room, but a maid closed the door. “You need to rest. You just returned on leave.”

“Chan I will be fine!”

Reluctantly, the man left Jisung alone in the hall. He watched as people walked in and out of the room, rushing with towels, blankets, wet clothes, new clothes, even hot kettles. Soon a physician arrived and entered her room. It felt like hours that Jisung had waited outside her door. Finally the girl, Harriet, walked out. She jumped when he grabbed her arm.

“Give me an occupation miss-or I shall go mad.”

Taking in the man’s tired state she handed him a towel. “The doctor says Ms. L/n hit her head and has a serious case of hypothermia.” She watched as Mr. Han sighed and ran a hand through his wet shaggy hair. “Please let me do something. Anything.” All she could offer was the smallest smile.

“You’ve done all you can possibly do. Thank you for saving my mistress.”

With a sorrowful nod he watched as she walked away. “We would be happy to set up a room for you, sir. We would be happy to keep you updated on how the lady is doing.” He gave Harriet a kind smile. “That would be very generous, Miss. I’ll only be staying for the two nights, if that is alright. I have orders to return to the line.” With a nod, Harriet went to prepare a room for the Colonel.

During those two days, Mr. Han never left her side. He stayed by her bedside helping Harriet and Cecilia with anything they asked. One the morning of his departure he gave Cecilia the name of his personal carrier. “If there is any change please let me know. The letter will go directly to me.” She nodded and took the piece of parchment watching the Colonel leave once again.

Sunlight streamed through my window. My head pounded and my body still felt cold. Slowly I slipped out of my bed, feet placing themselves slowly on the cool wood floor. “You are awake!” Cecilia screamed. Rushing over she practically tackled me back onto my bed. “Cecilia, the baby!” “Oh I don’t care you are okay! Thank heavens you are okay!”

I couldn’t help but smile as she hugged me. “Chan will kill you if you hurt his child before it’s even born.” “Shhhhhhhh! Not now. My sister has returned from the dead.” Laughing she hugged me even harder.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled away and rushed to my dresser. When she returned she had a letter in her hands. “This came for you yesterday. You have been asleep for almost a week. You needed quite a lot of rest. I don’t blame you.” She handed me the envelope with a small smile. “Wait, where are you going?” I asked as she started to leave my room. “I think I should leave you alone with that.” Something about her smile made me laugh.

My shaking hands opened the letter with my name addressed on it in rough but elegant handwriting. When I opened it the familiar smell of gunpowder and old parchment reached my nose. The same handwriting greeted me as I read the letter.

“Miss Ln,

I have written this letter many times, but have been a coward to not send it. I had hoped I would be home to say this-but it seems Napoleon has different plans than I.

Miss L/n, I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart. There were a thousand times I wanted to write to you, but events on the front line prevented me. I would like to apologize for not getting to you sooner that day. I wish I had been there soon for you, my darling.

I pray that by the time you get this letter you are not yet married to that insolent pitiful disgrace of a man. Though the timing may be off I have something to ask of you. Something to confess...

Miss L/n you have bewitched me- body and soul. To what time I fell so deeply under your spell, I cannot recall. I know not the hour or the spot or the words or even the look that lay the foundation. I was in the middle before I even began. What a proud fool I was. To think my stubbornness was the only thing keeping me from you. In vain I have struggled, but it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and...love you.

It seems as if the only thing keeping me alive in this battle is the image of you smile. I would die a thousand deaths for that smile.

I have heard your father’s news of your wedding. I beg of you. Do not follow through. I hope that perhaps there is something I can offer. Miss L/n...should I return, I would like to humbly request for your hand. I know I have no right to you, nor should any man. You are the most strong woman I have ever had the pleasure and fortune of meeting, and to me it makes you the most beautiful woman to walk this earth.

I hope to hear from you soon, my darling. Until then, I shall be fighting for the day that I do. I long for the day I am home.

In hope,

Han Jisung”

I sat in disbelief. Colonel Han Jisung had written me a letter professing his love. He proposed... Leaving the letter on my bed I walked to the window. The audacity. To ask me over a letter? A knock sounded at the door pausing my pacing. “Enter,” Harriet paused when she saw the look on my face. “Miss, what’s the matter.”

“Harry, I believe I have a serious decision to make.”

Months passed. Summer turning into mid fall. Father’s supposed wedding date for me had long passed. Each time Mr. Lee had visited Carson had turned him away. More letters from the Colonel had arrived, but they all said the same thing and soon they came to a stop. Cecilia had given birth not to long ago, to a beautiful baby boy. Chan and my sister had named the child Benjamin.

News came that the war ended, England victorious. Soon I would be expecting a visitor. I sat in the garden with my sketchbook, drawing the few flowers that were left in the beds among other things. A certain face had popped up in the pages of my book several times. “Miss Y/n,” I looked up to see Carson walking down the pathway.

“You have a visitor.”

A smirk fell across my lips. “Well, I believe I have been expecting him so let us not keep him waiting any longer.” With a smile, Carson returned into the house to fetch my guest. Patiently, I waited for the guest to come out and see me. I heard the sound of boots against the stone pathway and smiled.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Yes, indeed, Miss L/n.”

There was a nervous expression on his face. Once again he looked like he had just returned from active duty. His dark hair had grown a little longer and he wore the same navy overcoat again. His shirt underneath was covered in black powder and some of the buttons were undone to reveal his tan and slightly toned chest. Yes, definitely just returned. Returned with no time to change apparently.

Quickly I brought my attention back to my sketchbook in hopes that it would hide the heat spreading on my cheeks. “Did...you receive my letters?” Self control regained, I turned my attention back to Mr. Han. “Why yes, Colonel Han, I did in fact receive several letters.”

“And you are not married...”

“No, I am not.”

The man stood perfectly still in military fashion, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well are you going to speak? You certainly did not come to Whitewater just to stare at me did you?” Shock crossed Han’s face. It was evident he had not expected me to speak to him like this. It was fun to see the stoic Colonel flustered.

“I came to ask you response. You never wrote back to me.” I shrugged, getting off the bench. “Response? I don’t remember ever being properly asked a question.” He sighed running a hand through his hair, a habit that I had missed while he was away. “I do recall asking-” “No, Colonel Han. You requested. You, sir, never asked me anything. So why should I dignify you with a response.”

Maybe it was the smile, or the slight twinkle in my eye, but he laughed. A sound that I had never heard from the man. It made me want to memorize every sound and feature of his face when he laughed. “Then, should I ask you properly, Miss L/n?” It was a genuine question, not of simple jest. “There is no harm in questions.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes.

“Miss L/n, will you please allow me the great honor of making you my wife?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes widened at my quick response. “I’m sorry Colonel, but I cannot promise to be any man’s wife who sits prettily in a corner and who is expected to obey every word he says. I won’t be expected to just sit around waiting for you-...him- to come home.”

“Wherever you are is my home; my only home.”

There was sincerity in his eyes. Love. “Mr. Han,” He sighed taking my hands in his. Though his touch was still unfamiliar, it felt sure and safe. “Miss L/n, please let me speak.” He practically begged. I waited silent for him to continue.

“I am half in hope and half in agony. If your feelings are still what I assumed they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.” He searched my eyes for an answer.

“Miss L/n, I am in love with you more than you will ever know. I want nothing more than to be with you. To wake up to every morning- to fall asleep next to you every night. To stand next to me, not behind me. I am in love with your wit, and your charm, and how you always keep me on my toes more than any battle ever has. I am in love with your modern values and your spontaneity.” Han’s hands were rough against mine, his slender fingers ghosting over my skin.

“Y/n...Will you marry me, and do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

Han’s dark eyes looked into mine- indeed half in agony and half in hope. He looked at me as if everything in the world that mattered to him was standing in front of him. The look in his eyes couldn’t help but make me smile. I was in love with Colonel Han Jisung and it couldn’t be helped.

“Yes,”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” He asked. “Of course.” He smiled and looked down at his hands still gently holding mine. “May I?” He asked softly, glancing between my eyes and my lips. It only took a small nod for him to act, pressing his lips softly onto mine. My head begin to feel dizzy in the best way. His fingers traveled up the bare skin of my arms and then down to rest on my waist, bringing me closer. Han smiled as my hands pressed against his chest, kissing him back.

“I love you, Jisung. With all my heart.”

“It took you long enough to say it, my darling.”

El Fin

Requests are open my lovelies!

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