#which is like the longest I think I have ever devoted to a piece of writing

[hwallazia]

LOVE LANGUAGE – 정우영 & 최산

synopsis . in which after a long, tiring day at work, all you want to do is come home to your boyfriends and cuddle with them. of course they fulfill your wish, but with something more. a little surprise for you.

pairing . jung wooyoung & choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut but the fluffiest (still, mdni!), slice of life, comfort, polyamorous relationship, non idol!au.

word count . 2,8k

DISCLAIMER! softest doms! woosan (like fr they’re devoted to yn), sub! reader, fingering, begging, sooo much praise, dirty talk, suggestive language, nicknames (baby, princess, darling, good girl, & more), sweetest touches, just the three of them being stupidly in love and woosan being the best boyfriends ever <3

NIC’S NOTES i know all the smut one shots or drabbles i’ve written have the same tags. it’s just that i can’t bring myself to write idk something more hardcore? ㅠㅅㅠ i just write whatever comes to my head but with my preferences, which is vanilla sex essentially with a looot of nicknames and praise. next time i’ll try to do something a bit rougher and more passionate. ♡

You’re having a hard day.

You’ve already lost count of how long your boss has been talking to you, reminding you how much he hates mistakes in a company like his. His eyebrows furrowed together as a sign of frustration. You’ve honestly forgotten what you had originally started talking about. The more the man continued speaking, the more entangled you became with his words. After being scolded by your superior, you sit down in your desk chair and take a sip of your already lukewarm coffee. A gesture of disgust curves your lips

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. It’s too much to bear for it being eight-thirty in the morning, you repeatedly think about how much you want to yell at your boss to fuck off. He’s had you like this for weeks, busy with projects that don’t even concern you, but rather the other team his stepdaughter is on.

Of course, he wouldn’t make her work like he makes you work. Baggy eyes? In her lover’s daughter's eyes? Over his dead body. Your blood boiled every time you scanned her carefully every time she entered a room, almost always surrounded by three girls who followed her like fans, more like stalkers you think, smiling as if she was a celebrity, while you were trapped at your desk, doing her job.

You remember that time when you deigned to complain to your boss about this situation. “You get paid to work, not to complain. Go back to your desk” were the only words he said to you. Choking with all your strength the desire to suffocate him with your own hands, you replied with a “Yes, sir” with your hurt pride held high.

At some point in the morning, Miss Everybody-loves-me walks by your desk, her finger pressing to the surface of it as it runs over it, collecting dust particles from her fingertips. In her other hand resting her Starbucks drink.

“New project?” She says, showing a row of white, perfectly arranged teeth.

You shake your head, “It's the same one from the other day,” You reply, “Yesterday.” A tone of annoyance highlighted in your voice.

She nods repeatedly as if she understands you, as if she is being empathetic with you. Hypocrite. “My bad. I really thought you’d have it ready by today. You know, because the executive meeting is tomorrow and—.”

“Yes,” You say loudly. Of course you already know that you have to have it ready for tomorrow, it’s for that same reason that you haven’t been sleeping properly the last few days. Because you’re busy doing the work of the bitch who was in front of you, talking to you, “Yes, yes. I already know that piece of information. Thank you.”

“Just stopping by to remind you.” A giggle slips past her lips, the desire to want to smack her growing bigger and bigger, “Keep up the good work! Bye.”

She presses her longest fingers against her lips and then peels them away, sending you a flying kiss. You’re grateful she left, you can’t hold back the urge to finally shut her up with a good smack on that stupid smile of hers. A low “shit” escapes your lips as you watch her turn around and face your desk again, still not leaving you alone. “Oh, by the way. I hope you liked the coffee. Before I left my place, I saw that there was still that cup of coffee that I hadn't finished a few days ago. Four days have passed? I don’t know, nor do I remember. Anyway, bye.”

You finally watch as her anatomy disappears as she walks further. You turn and bitterly scan the coffee mug resting on a small oak table not too far from you. Your fingers hold the mug’s handle and throw it right into the trash. You want to scream at this exact moment, and the only way you find to relieve your miserable morning anger a little is to scream into the sleeve of your blazer.

The morning passes with difficulty and you smile for the first time today when you take a quick look at your watch and realize there are only two minutes left until you finish your workday. You had successfully completed the project and its presentation for the meeting you have the next day. At least your day was productive—after all.

Those are the longest two minutes of your life, but when they are finally over, you almost run towards the exit of the large building in which you’ve spent almost eleven hours of your day locked up.

In the blink of an eye, you’re already parking your car in the garage of the apartment where you live with your other two boyfriends. You know they were already home, probably cooking, watching a movie, or playing. As usual.

In about five minutes you’re already inserting your key, the sound of the locks and their mechanism working correctly to unlock the door being the only thing you could hear. Once the door is wide open, you cross the threshold and kick off your heels which have trapped your feet from a long day at work. You feel like you’re floating when you finally touch the warm floor of your apartment, and you trudge to your room, finding San leaning against the bed’s headboard, smiling at finally seeing you after a long day. A book resting on his right palm and his glasses decorating his beautiful face. The sigh that leaves your lips is inevitable. A soft smile is placed on your lips.

“Sannie.” You murmur, your arms outstretched for him to wrap you in a hug as you walk towards him.

“My love,” he crawls to the edge of the bed where he reciprocates your hug.

Your cheek resting against his flat chest, his hand gently caressing your hair. Through your nostrils, you can perceive the combination of that lavender shampoo you bought him a few months ago and soap. He smells so good, you thought to yourself. Him cooing at you like you were a baby is an image you want to keep in your head forever. You swear you can give into his arms as the tiredness starts affecting you.

You manage to hear the sound of a door opening. Then you turn round and find your other lover, Wooyoung, his hand drying his damp hair with the help of a small towel. However, you can’t see him, because your eyes have closed involuntarily while you enjoyed San's loving hug.

His eyes shine when he sees your figure. “There’s my girl.” He approaches you and San. His lips make contact with your other cheek.

Finally separating from San, they can ask you how your day was.

You sigh to look them in the eyes. “Terrible. Everything was so overwhelming today.” You pause, “Too much paperwork, too much.” You repeat it a second time, this time even more exhausted.

“Mm,” San murmurs, “Do you want to talk about that?”

“Not really. I just want—”

Wooyoung interrupts you to say, “Did that bitch have anything to do with it?” He says referring to Bora.

A loud gasp leaves your lips as you remember that she’s also been part of your day, “You have no idea what she did to me today,” You tell him what happened with your coffee. A soft giggle comes from San, the same person you just denied wanting to talk about your day.

“That bitch. How dare she?” San lets out an annoyed ‘mhm’ when he hears him speak. Your chivalrous San never uses that kind of insult to refer to women. He never actually insults women, “What? She deserves it. Look what she did to your girl today!”

“Our.” You correct him, a smile decorating his lips as he hears you say that.

“Yes, that. Ours.” You cup his chin and pull him to your lips to place a kiss on his cheek. His smile growing even bigger as San shakes his head at him.

A sigh leaves your lips, “To be honest, I just want to take a bath in the tub.”

“With bubbles?”

“And massages?” San adds after Wooyoung.

You can’t contain your smile, your boys’ hearts melting at the sight of you, “You guys want to bathe me? Really?”

“As if we haven’t seen you naked already,” Wooyoung speaks, your palm crashing against his side in a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment.

Your boyfriends guide you to their spacious bathroom. San heading to the bathtub while Wooyoung rummages through the drawers, looking for the bubbles he mentioned to you a few minutes ago. Your body collapses in slow motion against the cold porcelain of the tub, San holding you securely in his arms like a baby.

“You’re home now. You don’t have to worry about anything else, okay?” He places a quick kiss on your forehead, “Let us take care of the rest.”

Tiredness barely allows you to give him one of those smiles that your boyfriend falls in love with so much, “Found ’em!” You turn to meet Wooyoung with a victorious smile on his lips.

It takes several minutes for the tub to fill almost completely. When it does, Wooyoung undresses in a flash and climbs into the bathtub, keeping you company. San was still sitting behind you on the wide edge, his hands working your scalp so you don’t even have to worry about washing your hair.

You hum under his touch, your body gradually relaxing. Meanwhile, Wooyoung starts putting bath bombs of your favorite scents. The delicious aroma of vanilla and coconut invading your senses.

You feel San’s laborious hands leave your hair and subtly dry it with a towel. Now his hands move down to focus on your shoulders, his fingers exerting gentle pressure against your skin. Again, you hum as you felt him work that area.

“We know how hard you work every day. And how hard you try, and we love you so much for that.” You’ve already lost count of how many kisses San has pressed against your forehead, “That’s why we want to take care of you,” He paused briefly, “Tonight and always.”

A genuine smile forms on your lips. You really had no idea what you’d done to deserve two great boyfriends, so caring and affectionate. Your love for them can’t be described in words and neither can theirs for you. You melt after hearing their words, only being able to utter a soft ‘thank you’, hoping they understand that that ‘thank you’ was much more than the meaning of the word itself.

Wooyoung’s hand brushing against your skin as it goes down is what takes you away from the sweet words of the man behind you, his eyes never disconnecting from your gaze. You finally understand the way your boyfriends want to pamper you. And you’re not against their intentions at all.

“Just relax, my love.” Wooyoung whispers, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Heat flushes through you as he drags his hand even lower, your legs unconsciously opening a little more, your cheeks turning a cute red. You hum when his fingers caress your folds softly, leaning your head against San’s forearm.

“Young-ah,” His name is nothing more than a simple breath of air in the silent bathroom, “Please.”

“What is it, princess?” San’s low voice resonates inside your ears, “Tell us what you want.”

“P-please,” You beg, “Touch me.”

“I am touching you, love.”

You let out a minimal desperate pant. “Come on. Don’t tease, Woo”

“I’m not teasing, babe. I’m just doing want you’re telling me to do, aren’t I?” He scoffs. Your hips slightly rocking against his hand looking for some friction.

You let out a long sigh and with that your last trace of bashfulness, “Please. Put your fingers inside me, Woo. Please.” You give him your best doe-eyes, you know it worked when he emits a 'fuck' under his breath. 

Wooyoung dips his middle finger into your heat, the sound of your stickiness being drowned out by the warm water, how wet your cunt is being a secret between your boyfriend and his fingers. Thanks to the habit of doing this almost every week, he now knows where to touch, when to increase his pace, and above all, how to drive you crazy with just his long phalanges.

You don’t know when your eyes closed, but you know it was because of the satisfaction that was overtaking you. You unconsciously raise your hips in an attempt to get his fingers even deeper into you. 

For a moment you think San was enjoying the view in front of him with fierce eyes, hungry for you. You imagine him lightly pumping his cock behind you, a sight for sore eyes.

That is until you feel a pair of hands rest on your breasts, skilled fingers touching your nipples, varying in a pattern of touching and pinching them.

“I’m—” You can’t even formulate a coherent word, everything just being overwhelming in a good way, a very good way. 

Wooyoung hits the soft, right spot and you tremble beneath him, your back arching beautifully. Your lips vocalize a precious moan, “Wooyoung, baby. Don't stop.”

“Fuck, your moans are so pretty,” San says as he reclines and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, leaving cute lovebites that will surely turn purple by tomorrow morning. You’ll have to take care of that, but later. Right now you’re trying to hold onto the last piece of sanity you have left.

“Definitely our favorite sound,” Wooyoung replies, his fingers pumping into you faster, “Are you close, my love? Gonna cum on my fingers?”

His husky voice just pushes you even closer to the edge, “Yes, yes!” San sucks sharply in the right place as you cum. A long moan leaves your lips as you tremble beneath Wooyoung, him helping you ride your orgasm the best way possible.

Your eyes shut the moment you come. A few seconds later, you feel movement in the waters, as if someone has left and entered again. You think it’s Wooyoung, who came out to get a towel and dry you off, but when you feel a hand, different from the one that had been touching you until a few seconds ago, caressing your inner thighs you open your eyes meeting San’s.

“Hi, beautiful.” He admires your blissed-out expression for a moment, “Can you give us another one?”

You whimper, trying to hold yourself together, “I-I don’t know, Sannie,” You try to say “no” since you’re still sensitive and kind of overstimulated, but you just don’t want to admit it. Somehow you turn to your shy self again. It only lasts a few seconds though. His fingers make their way into your arousal and a hot, loud moan escapes from your lips.

He starts pumping his fingers into you at a fast pace, barely bearable for you. His movements cause you pleasure and pain at the same time, after all, you haven’t fully recovered from your previous orgasm and your boyfriend is already pushing you toward the abyss of pleasure again.

“Oh, princess,” He murmurs with the sweetest voice, “You’re being such a good girl for us.”

Wooyoung now is occupying the sit San was in, behind you. He reclines and murmurs right into your ear, “Come for us, darling. Just let it go. We’ve got you.” His voice is so unrecognizable, so fucking deep.

Your visual field begins to be covered by small black dots that get bigger and smaller, overstimulation causing this effect. Your body trembles in a sudden rush of heat, finally releasing into the now lukewarm water with a loud, long moan that sounds more like a cry. The small tears caused by pleasure slide beautifully down your cheek, dripping down your chin and mingling in the water. Your body feeling as if a fresh wave of water has washed over it.

“Mm,” San starts, “The only bad thing about doing this in the tub is that I can’t taste you, but honestly seeing your face as you come undone for us is more than enough.” He presses a kiss against your slightly open lips. Your blissed-out gaze making them fall even more in love with you.

“I... I love you both, so much. Thank you for doing this for me.”

“You deserve to be loved and pampered for everything you do for yourself and us every day. You’re amazing and we’re so proud of you.” Wooyoung mentions.

If you had the strength to cry right now, you would. However, sleep is taking you over so you can only mutter, “You both mean everything to me.”

You really have no idea when you fell asleep, but it’s okay. You know perfectly well that your boyfriends are going to set everything up and snuggle you in bed.

Wooyoung watches as San sees you with all the tenderness in the world. He was about to tease him saying that he was going to scare you if he kept looking at you so intensely, when he heard a cute, low snore.

“Did she fall asleep?” Wooyoung asks.

“Like an angel.” San replies, still admiring you.

“Well, let’s get her into a pair of pijamas so we can cuddle with her in bed.”

They both dry themselves off before taking you out of the tub. Seeing you so adorable and soundly asleep makes them share one of those looks of theirs. 

Yes, they have a big, painful boner with no relief, but tonight was all about you, so they decided to put their needs aside and focus on you and making you feel good, loved and important. Because you are, because they’re willing to give their lives for you if they had to. 

Because you’re their everything and they love you more than the word itself could mean. 

| masterlist

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌻Thinking About You ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

My Dearest Dream Person,

I think, the signs are all around me. When I weave dreams of my ideals, surely I must be thinking of you. I’ll recognise you when our eyes meet for the first time. I’m sure I can do that. After all, I have dreamt of you for the longest time.

I know I will love the way I feel, the way I am, when I’m in your presence. I’m certain that I will know then that this is true love…

with all of my heart,

Your Destined One♥︎

PLAYLIST: so this is love playlist by Sea Pearl

MOVIE: Sleeping Beauty (1955)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

For my Pink Clouds, there is a little incident with Pile 3, which is like, super random? But I was told it was important LMAO So I’ve included a mini behind-the-story for it as a sweet extra message🥰If you’re already subscribed, don't miss the full post on Patreon~🌷

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – I will hold and heal you, and always be there to protect you♥︎

VIBE: So This Is Love from Cinderella

my daydreams leading to you – Knight of Pentacles Rx

At the time you’re finding this PAC, your Destined Person is in a state of wanting to hurry and meet you XD They have this strong desire to be with you and hold you close. I think their Higher Self is making it clear to them that you exist somewhere in this Universe and that makes them daydream a looootttt about being in a relationship. Problem is, they don’t really know what you look like or how to find you… so… they could be trying to find a glimpse of you in so many different types of people! LMAO

For the most part, I don’t think this means your Destined Person is all and about dating all kinds of people just to find you—that would be kinda trash, right? But to a large extent, they daydream to no end. They could be seeing people, yes, finding them attractive or interesting, and being curious about them, only to realise there’s quite nothing there… These people don’t feel… right… or complete. Like there’s always something… wrong… or missing.

This could drive them crazy at some point. Wondering why their wants and ideals are so damn complicated! So unrealistic! But the truth is, they could never be satisfied with any of those different types of people because each of them hold only ever a piece of the puzzle that would make a whole picture of YOU~🧩It is your Destined Person’s task to figure this out themselves and finally get a clearer picture of what kind of Love they do truly deserve in this world (it is YOU~!)💕

let’s go on a date! – 5 of Swords

If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, I feel like you’ve had a few storms in the past involving human connections in general. In simple terms, a lot of people have been so MEAN to you! It could be your own “family”, fake friends, toxic partners, whatever, really. A lot of people have caused a great deal of psychological pain onto you. And I have a strong feeling your Destined Person knows about this. I’m sure they know about this from the aethers, one way or another. After all, it’s not like their Higher Self isn’t in communication with your Higher Self? Huehue

That said, even before you meet in the physical, your Destined Person already has this vibe about them… of wanting to protect you from harm. I feel like they have this unsettling feeling deep inside of them, a feeling they can’t quite put a finger on, that they want to protect somebody. They want to be a hero to you. When you’re finally together, I still see this image of them wanting to punch anybody who would pose a danger to you XD

I’m seeing this comical image of them punching the air to demonstrate how they’re going to keep you from any, ANY, kind of harm. They’re funny like that. Humour is their love language hahah They’re not afraid of making a fool of themselves if that makes you laugh. Your Destined Person is going to be so devoted to protecting and comforting you♥︎

i want you around – Queen of Pentacles

Aaand…there’s a high chance that your Destined Person is a rich boi/gal. Not only do they have this nurturing quality to them, but they also have the means to provide for you. Even if they’re not that rich (yet) when you meet, the key thing is that they have this desire to work hard to provide for you. Make your dreams come true more easily. Make your life together easy. They don’t want you ever again to experience pain or hardship.

Truly, this is a daddy/mommy vibe~ It doesn’t matter if your Destined Person is younger or smaller than you, they will take it upon themselves to be the daddy/mommy in the relationship😂If you’re the one who’s older or bigger than them, you will find this stupidly endearing HAHAHAH

Your Destined Person is sensual, reliable, emotionally dependable, very honest and hardworking, on top of being funny. They have all of these lovely qualities that they can’t wait to pour unto you. They’re currently in this weird space where they really, really want to be someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend… GOSH, I HOPE YOU MEET SOON, DAMMIT!✨🍀🩰

DAYDREAMS🔻💚

words to describe you – Priestess of Patience

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Enchantment

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You’ve shone a light of hope on my dark and dreary world

VIBE: Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty

my daydreams leading to you – 9 of Swords Rx

Right off the bat, your Destined Person has gone through some hellish experiences in this world. They’ve not had an easy life, and that’s caused them to view reality as immensely bleak. Before the idea of you came into their conscious mind, they’d probably had it so rough they couldn’t let themselves dream big or dream beauteous things. You know how people settle for less because they’re afraid of getting disappointed, again and again, by reality… by people?

On a different note, this could also mean that your Destined Person has endured much trauma in this life. People who have endured trauma could tend to have nightmares, even night terrors, right? We’re talking bad memories, PTSD, even CPTSD, so… this isn’t exactly an easy energy to navigate. Due to their traumas, they could also have developed harmful habits or strange coping mechanisms needed for survival. Within their psyche, there simply was so much chaos and pain.

One day, God came to your Destined Person and awakened a dream of YOU in them~ This miraculously gave them so much comfort and brought a sense of gladness for the first time in their dark and dreary world. When your Destined Person learnt of the aetheric connection you share, that you exist somewhere in this world and that you are waiting to meet and fall in love with them, they felt genuine softness for the first time in a long, long while…

That there is still something down the lane, there’s someone dearly beloved, that’s still worth living for~♥︎

let’s go on a date! – IV The Emperor Rx

From that moment onwards, your Destined Person went on to transform themselves. To make them stronger and more dazzling so they could become a perfect match for you. If this Pile is your main pile, I’m sure you’re a super dope person! I mean dope as in super awesome. I just know it that you’re a wonderful individual who has a big heart, and that a lot of people find you capable and inspirational. One way or another, this of you was conveyed to your Destined Person by the Universe~!

You are strong and kind and your Destined Person already knows this of you. In many ways, I feel almost like your Destined Person feels like they might not have that much to offer you… You’re so, so much, much more than they ever have been. Perhaps you’re richer, more successful, more famous, and all that, so…

Your Destined Person is currently just working on themselves. Making something out of themselves. They don’t really know yet what they could ever give you aside from their genuine heart. But they’re not going to be satisfied with just that. They’re not a loser, you know. They’re only beginning to let themselves be what they’re supposed to be—there’s still a lot they’re discovering about their strengths and natural talents! When they’ve figured this out of themselves, they’ll know just exactly what precious something they could offer you as a token of their Love~

i want you around – 8 of Cups Rx

Of all the Piles, I feel like your Destined Person is quite literally currently in a phase of self-discovery. They’re deep in the trenches of their own trauma healing and self-transformation that they can’t afford to focus too much on your energy. So this could mean you don’t always get clear aetheric messages from them. Plus, it feels like your Destined Person can’t or don’t even want to convey too many messages about what they think or feel about you because they know words would simply fail them.

The reason why? They’re afraid their words would become empty promises. They don’t even know themselves yet at this point. They’re not their best version of themselves yet. What tangible ideas or things could they possibly offer you? So, that’s kinda the vibe they’re operating with at this point in their Life. And if you should know anything, it is that your Destined Person has not had the luxury of being helped, supported, or coddled much by those they relied on. So there’s this vibe of them being afraid that they themselves can’t be relied upon. And that’s so sad because I think your Destined Person has such a genuine heart…

But worry not! At the end of the day, your Destined Person is literally just being taught by the Universe how to love themselves, prioritise their own needs and wants, and express themselves more honestly. They’ll get there😊They’ve just had a very lonesome and miserable life for the most part. One thing they do want you to know though, is that they’re thankful you exist at all in this Universe. You’ve given them so much hope and calmed down the storms in their world♥︎

DAYDREAMS🔻💛

words to describe you – Priestess of Prosperity

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – I offer you now… Heaven on Earth! My Love!

VIBE: When You Wish Upon a Star from Pinocchio

my daydreams leading to you – 3 of Pentacles Rx

Even just looking at the pic you’ve chosen, it feels like you and your Destined Person really do wish to offer something precious to one another~ It’s almost like a prayer, I feel. That you hold such precious thoughts of one another and wish for the most wonderful things to happen to each other. But even more than just hoping, wishing and praying, the two of you are intent on making the world a better place so the other could rest more easily.

This isn’t just your Destined Person’s thoughts; I feel that even you have always held it in your heart that you wish to become a better person for the one most worthy of your Love. That person destined for you also carries it in their heart to work on themselves and transmute a ton of generational trauma as well as curses. If this is your main pile, I hope you know that you’re a powerful Soul who’s been tasked with the transmutation of Mankind’s negative inclinations.

You and your Destined Person are Divines Feminine and Masculine. You each embody the essence of the Divine in your own unique expression of Feminine and Masculine. Since you were a child, you were already a sage; you knew it within the heart of your hearts that changing the world begins with changing yourself. That’s why you will notice later on that both you and your Destined Person will appear to be such distant creatures from the rest of your families each—because you will have transcended above the ordinariness of the lineage you were born into LOL

let’s go on a date! – X The Wheel of Fortune

All of the above said, of all the Piles, yours is the most certain to meet very soon. I feel like, in the aethers, you are already one and united, and so, you’re just waiting for the temperatures of Planet Earth to get right so she could welcome your Divine Union. You and your Destined Person are such high-vibrational creatures that when you come into contact forests would shake and mountains would shudder XD I’m thinking of the chaos caused by Ponyo when she was trying to get to Sosuke LMAO PERFECT illustration!

You don’t want to end the world. So, this world has had to ready itself in order to witness your Divine Union with your Divine Counterpart. I’m sure when you’re together you’re going to become famous; whatever the scale of your community may be. You’re going to be seen by those around you as the charity-couple or inventor-couple or some shit. You and your Destined Person are going to be working together. And there will be something magical about what you do together—even if that thing is just a small business of a cosy café! For example.

Or it could be something what would be similar to the stories of the invention of bandaids and the surgical gloves. It’s just something lovely like that. There is healing in whatever you do which is needed by Mankind right at this passage of time. I just know it that your matrimony is going to be so full of meaning, of love and joy, or service to Mankind, and most importantly, so full of magical moments that make everything you’ve been through so worthwhile.

i want you around – King of Cups

The King of Cups—the King of love songs and poetry. He is kind, sensitive, patient and caring, compassionate and understanding. And immediately, a quote comes to mind with this aenergy:

‘The right person will make you fall in love with yourself, too.’

Your Destined Person resembles you so much. They possess so many qualities that you like that remind you that you have them, too. Looking at your Destined Person, you are reminded of how good and kind and capable you yourself are. The deeper your feelings get for them, the more in love you feel towards yourself, too. Life, finally makes sense.

You’ll find, ever so unexpectedly, that you don’t need so many distractions anymore. You need only this one person and everything else is a blur. You couldn’t care less anymore about people or things that feel so little in meaning. Not interested anymore. Ain’t got time for any of that now. You want only the one and true thing: a union—a Life—with your Destined Person.

Ever so naturally you will understand that the way to manifest this Love is through your own personal transformation. And so in that sense, your life’s focus becomes only one: YOURSELF. And you realise this—you become motivated to purify your world—through receiving the awakening call of your Destined Person’s identity.

DAYDREAMS🔻💗

words to describe you – Priestess of Magick

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Divination

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[danpuff-ao3]

This year has had many ups and downs, and as of late it feels as if the whole world is a down. Real life has really smacked me down, and I've felt so isolated from all of the things and people I love. But as ever, the world is looking up, and I can see the light...and looking back brings me so much joy and fulfillment. I've accomplished so much that I don't give myself credit for. More than I'll dare type up here, but let's go through the highlight reel, shall we?

For my dear friend Beth's birthday, I finally posted some of my HP Astro work to AO3! (Speaking of which, I really should work on adding more soon...)

A_Loveunlaced (@a-loveunlaced) is an artist I very much admire, so the start of the year was super cool getting to chat with them, seeing their Snarry art, and writing a ficlet for said art, Again (and Again).

Delved into and fully embraced the controversy by running HP Chan Fest with @cindle-writes, which was such a cool and meaningful experience.

Plus I wrote some fics I'm really proud of for said fest: profane holy, Cruel Summer, The Virgin Bride.

Also my dear friend Viran (@mrviran) drew some fanart for Cruel Summer, I believe while it was still anonymous and everything! But she also totally called that it was me who wrote it, which is always fun for me when people know me in the Anon stages!

I wrote more fics for Kinkuary and Kinktober (which I always love!)

Shared more meta on AO3 with The Half-Blood History (I really do need to import more meta there!)

Finally wrote and posted chapter 3 for smile with sweet surprise (aka Stepdad Snape fic)

Started writing and sharing WIPs I've been long excited for: Wasted for Love (Golden Triad + Snarry) and A Taste for You (Sugar Daddy Harry).

I ran HP Fruit Fest solo! Which was a lot, but I had fun and I was super thrilled to not be the only one super into fruit!

I taught myself how to bind books, and now I have a growing collection of bound fics! Check out #danpuff binds to see some!

More recs, as ever, but especially the ongoing Dead Dove Diaries series of rec lists.

Speaking of recs, I'm helping mod @hprecfest, which is so fun for me! I love seeing people's recs, and I love being part of an event that is spreading so much fun and love around the community!

Also, making my own recs for the event! I've got at least one fic queued up for each day, I think! And some days have even more!

For Snarry-a-Thon I wrote a companion piece to last year's Contempt (aka my heart and soul), called Devotion, which my friend Aristi kindly beta read for me! The whole series is so deeply meaningful to me and it feels so huge to add more to it.

For Snarry Bang, I teamed up with my pal Viran (@mrviran) for The Curse of Anteros. I wiffle-waffled on what to write for the longest time, but my vacation to Orlando unlocked something in me. The whole fic hit me like a hurricane and came out in like a 2 week period. And the art Viran created for it is spectacular (I'm still obsessed). Oh, and it was such a treat having the fabulous @writcraft beta! There's nothing quite like having a creator you admire help your work be its best version!

And, of course, I had another opportunity to chat with my friend Beth for @fanficmaverickpodcast, with the episode: A Very Snarry Christmas.

And lots more, but this is plenty enough to be going with! Not half bad for the year, yeah? 😄

[idolatrybarbie]

hi everyone! thank you so much for the big one-double-o!!!

this time i've decided we're doing asks - something i know i can handle in a timely manner for everyone (still working on those fifty follower prompts, do not fret). i've got uhhh fifty questions for one hundred followers - split into personal and writing-related based on your preference! this is just self indulgent and weird enough for me to still feel comfortable and not like a total prick.

some of these have been stolen from the web and others are from my brain. cool, let's go:

(personal asks)

what kind of day is it?

rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning

do you wear jewelry?

last meal on earth?

preferred pasta noodle?

how’d you think of your url/username?

how many languages do you speak?

do you consider yourself a lucky or unlucky person?

do you consider yourself a workaholic?

last movie you watched?

last book you read?

last show you watched?

what do you want to do when you grow up?

what's a nickname that people call you?

favourite fast food place?

famous people/actors/musicians that you'd want to meet - or - have met?

are you into superheros/superhero media?

what colour is your hair?

when did you first join tumblr?

what are you best at?

what is your biggest goal right now?

what is one kind thing someone did for you this year?

favourite musical artist(s)?

top music genres?

one word that describes you?

(writing asks)

how long have you been writing?

which do you find yourself using, american or british english

do you prefer reading or writing fic more?

what's your ideal fic length to write?

what's your ideal fic length to read?

weirdest idea you've had for a fic?

where do you do most of your brainstorming?

what's the longest story you've ever written?

five fic recs?

best writing inspiration

first fandom/piece of media that you wrote for?

do you create from any specific emotion?

how long have you been working on your most devoted project?

what do you do when experiencing writer’s block?

do you name things before or after writing?

what do you like about your writing style?

who is another author (fanfic or otherwise) that you admire?

when do you get most of your ideas and inspiration for writing?

describe your editing process

music, ambient noise, or silence while writing?

do you prefer narrative or dialogue?

what kind of endings do you like best?

how often do you describe the sky in writing?

do you write by hand or on a device?

what is your favourite thing you have ever written?

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

I saw the impersonate you invitation and I'm not very good at impersonations, but I will tell you what I think you are like based on your blog!

First of all you love Lucy from Fairytale, and have a lot of fun playfully obsessing over her.

I say playful, because you have a suprisingly nuanced understanding of the characters that you like. You dont just take the text (or whatever medium you are engaging with) at face value, you think through what is happening and what it means. You have excelent literary analysis skills.

I think you are probably pretty blunt and opinionated, but you are not mean or unkind. You care deeply for the people around you and put a lot of effort into understanding them.

You may lean towards pessimism sometimes, but you have a sarcastic sense of humor which can make it seem like you are more pessimistic than you really are.

You are very enthusiastic about the beautiful parts of the world, and delight in happy suprises.

I have no idea why, but you feel like somebody who thinks marine biology is cool af.

How did I do? Did I get anything right?

oh my god I love this alskfjsjf

first of all: sorry this took me a hot second to answer 😅

second: hey how does it feel to cut out a piece of my soul only to serve it to me on a silver platter?

gonna go more in depth with each one under the cut (bc I love talking about myself lol) but if you don't have the nerves for that ATM let it be known that you've got me clocked my guy. if I have to describe myself in a job interview I'm gonna ring up beloved tumblr anon to do it for me 🫡 💕

most inaccurate is probably that I'm actually not sure whether I'd call myself an optimist or pessimist (though I do know that I make an effort to be outwardly more optimistic than I actually feel) and while I do absolutely adore the ocean I'm not sure I'd say that I'm particularly interested in marine biology specifically. it's one of those things I keep telling myself I want to do more research on but I never actually do it, so like, theoretically yes but not in practice? does this make sense?

1. id say lucy heartfilia lives rent-free in my head but it would probably be more accurate to say that I feed her scraps of brain matter and heart tissue and devotion in hopes she deems my soul a worthy resting place (<- look how normal I am about her!)

FT was not only my longest obsession ever to date but also my first after moving countries, so being unwell about Lucy again feels weirdly nostalgic in a way?

2. oh yeah I do adore analysing texts and characters and devices and stuff. which is also why I adore wuthering heights lol (cycles and parallels and tragedies my beloved). I don't really know how to read WITHOUT doing this tbh? like of course there is a difference when I am actively engaging with it but sometimes I'll say something that seems pretty obvious to me and then people will be like "this is a great analysis!" lol

(also not to brag but I've been told more than once that I often approach narratives and symbolism from an angle that others haven't considered before 😏)

I actually started studying literature, but for various reasons (which include not being able to deal with a bunch of people clacking on their laptops at the same time the sound was literally driving me insane does anyone have any tips on how to deal with that) I stopped going after like a month

tho id say my favorite thing to analyze is actualy theater plays? especially because of the added element of speech (it feels unfair to judge an audiobook by this metric since books were primarily written to be read but theater is literally made to be spoken aloud and thus it is the authors duty to also think about the cadences of the words and what the different sounds feel like instead of just focusing on how it looks like on paper imo) and visuals

whenever I go with a friend (I need to go with someone so I can talk about it) I'll first ask them what they thought so I can gather my thoughts and kinda compare and then I won't shut up until we have to go out separate ways lol

3. which is a great way to get into the third point: I do have opinions about everything! (unless I don't have a lot of information on the topic in question). I always keep myself open for counter arguments (my biggest fear is becoming one of those obnoxious stubborn ignorant people who are proud of being stuck in their ways and categorically refuse to even consider other viewpoints and opinions) but unless this is about something factual where you have more experience/facts than me it's actually pretty hard to convince me.

because while I love sharing my opinions to everyone that'll listen, im Not a fan of confrontations? I tire of them pretty quickly so depending on whether you pass my vibe check I will either be honest (hey yo agree to disagree can we change topics) or pretend to agree just so we can move on without anyone getting prissy lmao

4. and yes I do try to always be kind to people! dni if you don't make an effort to wish the bus driver a good day tbh. I have this need to be acknowledged and remembered by strangers and also feel really bad whenever im mean to people so my compromise is to try to always be friendly while wearing bright hair and clothes lol

I think I also have a pretty approachable aura? I'm often asked for directions and stuff (which is always a shame for the people asking because i am lostTM)

5. okay so. this is actually a fun exercise to do. because characters in books need to be fairly simple at their core (so the author can write them consistently) while creating the illusion of being complex and layered - and you can kind of do the same thing to real people!

in my mind that makes me a bad shittalker because I'll be actively doing this while you are trying to tell me about something shitty someone else did to you. I'll try to look at it from various angles (at least within the realm of the possible when going solely by a very biased POV) which often comes across as defending them? but I think this is a rather unpopular opinion since I can't count the times I've heard "I know you don't like to shittalk people, but-" as a conversation starter lol

6. I am! a sarcastic shit! I can clearly tell the difference between my sarcasm and my serious voice, but people say that it sounds the same to them (which just makes it more fun tbh lol) tho I think that's only fair considering I often have a hard time telling when other ppl are being serious vs not

7. idk where I am on the optimism pessimism scale tbh. when I was small I figured out this neat magic trick where if u pretend to have really low expectations things seem even cooler than they actually are. it makes sense (expectations and everyone is master of their own reality and contrast etc etc) but back then I genuinely thought I had unravelled the fabric of the universe lol

so like. I'll always be kinda expecting the worst while at the same time not quite believing it? so I'm not disappointed when the "worst" does indeed happen but am also not actively psyching myself out? idk the only gymnastics I'm good at are the mental ones

long story short anon I hope I don't come off too strong but I think I am in love with you <3

[judeharoldvich]

devoting my entire life to writing and studying the english language and growing up hyperlexic was a waste of time apparently because it turns out nobody actually gives an iota of a shit about poetry. either they think the only valuable writing is whatever has endured through history the longest (ignoring the fact this doesn't necessarily make a text inherently good, it just means that it was preserved because a rich person or rich people had the means to preserve it), OR they think good writing is just whatever they like and relate to personally. there's not even an attempt at objectivity. you are of course allowed to develop your own opinion of what makes art profound but there's a reason we have certain metrics by which we appraise a piece of writing... i completely respect that you might hate taylor swift with all your heart and think she's a terrible person but quite frankly i think much less of you if you cant see past that to make a good faith attempt at analysing her lyrics. some of them ARE bad! but you wouldnt know anything about that because you haven't engaged critically with any of her work. someone posted the lyric 'familiarity breeds contempt' on twitter and said 'this is such nonsense, she's literally just saying words', not realising that this particular lyric is a CHAUCER QUOTATION. sure, quoting great poets doesn't make you clever, but the problem is that these people have not spent even a second to actually asses the lyric and decide, independently of their strong feelings about miss swift, whether it has any merit and -- most importantly, whether they are in fact critiquing the person they think they are. by all means write an essay on why chaucer is a terrible writer, but if you do i hope you'll at least give it a little bit more thought and care than you do when ripping apart the latest pop song as if it was ever trying to be anything more...

[nuclearanomaly]

Sugar is Sweet

Is it a date if you both agree to go out and it just so happens to be Valentione’s Day and you both happen to really like each other but neither of you do anything to acknowledge that? [Modern | Bookshop AU. | wc 7046 ]

Estinien checked his coat pocket again, for the millionth time since leaving his apartment earlier that afternoon. He didn’t need to check. The box that was tucked into his coat was still there. As it had been the time before, and the time before that. His breath clouded his view momentarily as he exhaled, nervously. 

He stood just outside the entrance to Page 64, shifting slightly in the cold, eyeing the warm light that spilled out of the cluttered windows and poster plastered door. He checked his pocket again. Still there. 

Maybe he should text first, a casual message about being in the neighbourhood before stopping in. Or maybe—he jumped as the door abruptly opened and a rare customer started to exit the store. They gave Estinien a perplexed look as he shuffled out of the way before stepping aside and holding the door for him. 

Shit.

“Thanks.” He mumbled as he slipped past and into the store. 

The comforting smell of old paper greeted him, accompanied by the overfilled shelves and stacks of books and as he made his way further into the store, Ninira. She sat at her usual spot at the counter, busy at her computer after the departure of her customer. He smiled, she hadn’t noticed him yet. The light from the laptop screen reflected in her glasses, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. As he drew closer she must have sensed his presence as she started to look up a greeting halfway formed before she realized who she was talking to.

“Hel–oh! Estinien! What are you doing here?” She blinked, shocked. “It’s Tuesday, don’t you have band practice?”

“Cancelled.” He fished the stool tucked under the side of the counter out and took a seat. His stool. Going through the motions of taking it out and sitting on it was second nature by this point. “Some of the others have plans tonight.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, “it’s no big deal. Our next show isn’t until the end of the month. Besides, I was able to get some work shit done instead. Thought I’d stop in since I was dropping stuff off at the store.” A small lie. She didn’t need to know that all he had done in the back room of his own store was kill time, pacing nervously while watching the clock tick closer to Page 64’s closing time.

Ninira smiled in a way that made Estinien’s gut flutter stupidly. “You know that you’re always welcome to.” She lifted a couple books stacked beside her laptop before sliding off her stool. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just going to put these back.”

It was a bold statement considering it felt like a majority of the store had little to no organization to begin with. Ninira did claim that some parts had more order than others, and perhaps these books were from one such section as it wasn’t too long before she returned empty handed. 

“You’re closing soon right?” 

“Yep.” Ninira hopped back up onto her seat, turning her head to glance at the time as she did so. “In about twenty minutes.”

Estinien nodded, but under the counter his leg trembled anxiously. “Want to grab something to eat when you’re done?”

Ninira’s expression fell. “I’m sorry. I can’t…”

It was as if his heart had plummeted. “Oh… you have plans?” He fought to keep his face neutral. 

“W–what? No!” She laughed in disbelief, “not at all. It’s just…”

Estinien watched, frowning, as her shoulders sagged. “Money’s tight this month. Foot traffic is already slow being winter, but with how cold it’s been recently it’s just been… hard.”

“How hard?” The fact that Ninira didn’t have it easy balancing the cost of her store wasn’t news to him, but the thought of her skimping on essential things to do so…

She blinked, as if surprised he cared. “I’m fine!” His furrowed brow obviously didn’t convince her as she tried to give him what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. “I promise! I just have to watch what I’m spending… so I can’t really splurge on dinner. I’m sorry. Maybe when things pick back up again?”

“Or, how about, I buy you dinner?”

“Estinien… I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.” He was aware that his leg had begun to shake nervously under the counter once more. “Nothing fancy, we can get Hingan, or there’s that new Hannish place that opened that we talked about trying.”

Still Ninira squirmed, noncommittal. 

“Well, think about it, at least.” This wasn’t exactly going as planned. “Do you need help with anything before closing?”

She jumped at the change of subject, “yes! If you don’t mind…” 

Estinein shook his head as he rose from his stool, shrugging out of his jacket as he did so. “I offered.” He draped his jacket over the stool, careful to make it seem nonchalant but while also taking care not to jostle it too much less he disturb the contents tucked away inside. “What do you need?”

Ninira sheepishly tapped a large cardboard box that he had failed to notice sitting on the counter. “Can you take that to the back office? I’ll need to go through it later.”

Walking around and peeking into the top, Estinien was unsurprised to find it full of books. “Are these new?” 

“Mmm… they were brought in this afternoon by a very nice old man.”

He sighed before rapping Ninira, lightly, on the top of her head with his knuckle. “You have to stop accepting this shit.” 

“I–I know!” She rubbed her head. “But he was so passionate about them and I couldn’t say no!”

“If he was passionate about them, he would have kept them.” Estinien grunted as he lifted the box into his arms, it was heavier than it looked. “The fuck is in here? Weighs a ton.”

“I think he said something about encyclopedias. I haven’t had a chance to really look.” 

Of course it was. Some old geezer’s dusty out of date encyclopedias that no one in their right mind would want. He hefted the box higher in his arms as he started through the shelves towards the back of the store. She better not have paid for them. On top of all her other expenses the last thing she needed was to be made to feel sympathetic towards buying some old trash books. Perhaps he should have come over sooner, at last he could have been an intimidating presence. 

Between helping to move items and cleaning around the store it wasn’t long before Ninira was switching over the open sign and locking the door. Estinien watched as she sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she made her way back towards where he was leaning against the counter. 

“Thanks again for helping.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem.” 

She continued past him, as she worked through the motions of closing up for the night. 

“Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched as she froze in place while he continued. “I could go for a big plate of biryani, maybe some samosas, fresh naan.”

He was sure he heard Ninira whine faintly. 

“Papadums and tikka masala, or perhaps vindaloo.”

Ninira snorted. “You can’t handle vindaloo.”

Estinien turned, “that’s what you think.”

“Last time we went for ramen you got one labeled mild and almost died.”

Almost died was definitely an exaggeration. Yes, the broth had been much hotter than he had expected. Yes, the server had warned him. Yes, he’d destroyed napkin after napkin trying to mop up the endless tears and snot streaming down his face while Ninira had wheezed into her far spicier bowl of soup. It had been agony, but also—he thought fondly of Ninira sitting across the table from him, her own tears in her eyes from laughing—a very good night. “I’ve improved my tolerance since then.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, “well…” and watched as her expression fell and she started to retreat back into the version of herself that worried about stupid things like, bothering him.

“Come on, Nini. At the very least it will be better than whatever the fuck you have waiting upstairs.”

That earned him a sheepish grin, “I don’t know… half a can of tinned soup is hard to beat.”

Estinien frowned. She was skimping on necessities. “Don’t make me physically carry you to the restaurant, because I will. You deserve a good meal.” As if on queue Ninira’s stomach let out a growl loud enough that even he could hear. “Sounds like your stomach agrees.”

She sighed, before raising her hands in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go.”

Estinien grinned. Success. 

“Just give me a minute and I’ll go get my stuff.”

Estinien snatched his jacket off his stool, pulling it back on as he followed her through the shelves to the back of the store. Here he waited at the base of the stairs that led up to Ninira’s apartment for her return, his fingers drumming against his leg as his nerves returned in full force. It wasn’t long until Ninira reappeared bundled in her winter gear. Cute. Estinien caught himself thinking at the sight of her; though, he pretty much always thought of her as cute in anything she wore. “Ready?” He asked, and Ninira nodded. 

The restaurant Estinien had in mind was further into the city. A short ride on the subway got them most of the way there and despite the cold and now falling snow, they opted to walk the rest of the way. Also despite the fact that they were now arriving past what Estinien would have considered dinner time there was a line of people, mostly couples, waiting on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant doors. 

“It’s busy,” Ninira observed. 

“That must mean the food is good, at least.” He glanced down at her. “If you’re cold and don’t want to wait we can try somewhere else though.”

“It’s okay,” they shuffled forward as the line moved. “The line is moving. Besides, it seems like everywhere has been busy tonight.” 

Estinien watched as Ninira eyed the waiting couples and passing crowds. Watched as she pieced together the thing he was hoping she wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Wait,” She looked up at him, “isn’t today Valentione’s Day?”

It was. There was a reason band practice had been cancelled, as the majority of the other’s plans had involved their desire to spend time with their significant others. Understandable, though he could have done without their bonus desire to bother him about doing something himself. Despite knowing this, Estinien shrugged before making a show of fishing his phone out of his pocket to check the date. “Huh, so it is…”

Ninira chuckled, “No wonder everywhere is packed. I guess we should consider ourselves lucky that the line isn’t longer.”

“Well isn’t it supposed to be all stuffy candle lit dinners? Going for Hannish probably isn’t considered very romantic.”

“People who think that are missing out then. This is way better, in my opinion.”

Estinien smiled, pleased. “You’re just biased because you like the food.”

“Maybe so.”

“What if the candle lit dinner was exclusively dessert?”

She gasped. “Well that would be completely different!”

With their conversation helping to pass the time they eventually made their way off the street and into the restaurant. Inside was a bustling din of noise. The bright array of colours and textures that covered both the walls and the furniture made for an authentic Hannish atmosphere. And then there was the mouth-watering smell. Estinien was glad that they were getting seated next as he was definitely starting to get hungry. It wasn’t long before a server led them to a small table tucked away near the back of the room, positioned under a large graphic mural on the wall and lit by a glass lamp hanging from the ceiling above them. Estinien shrugged out of his coat, draping it over the back of his chair and taking a seat as Ninira did the same. 

“Can I grab you drinks to start?” Their server asked, to which Estinien nodded, flipping over his menu to check out the selection of beers as Ninira replied.

“Just water, thank you.”

Estinien furrowed his brow.

“Of course! And for you.”

“I’ll have a Cedarwood,” Estinien replied. “And a cream soda.”

The server’s mouth twitched with the hint of an amused grin at this combination, but nodded before leaving their table. As they did, Estinien levelled his gaze on Ninira. “Thirsty?” She asked, though she was unable to keep the waiver out of her voice.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to order inexpensive things because I’m covering the bill.” 

She slumped her shoulders. 

“Well too bad, because you’re having a soda. And,” he reached across the table and plucked her menu away from her. “I already know what we’re ordering.”

“But we’ve never been here before!”

It pleased him that she didn’t seem to consider the possibility of him having come without her. “They have a menu online. I’ve done my research.”

Ninira pulled a face but resigned to her defeat. “Fine, you win… again.”

Estinien smirked, “I’m sure you’ll find some way to enact revenge.”

This made her smile. “When you least expect it.”

Their server returned shortly with their drinks, placing the water down in front of Nini and the beer and soda in front of Estinien. Tucking the serving tray under their arm they then asked “are you both ready to order?”

Estinien nodded at this. “We’re going to share,” He explained before beginning to list off items. Papadums and chutney to start, then a chicken tikka, lamb vindaloo, and paneer. An order of rice—of course—as well as a side of naan and raita. With each item he added Ninira’s brows rose further. It was for her own good, not only was she going to have a good meal but hopefully also some leftovers to take home as well. If she got at least one additional meal from tonight’s order Estinien would be happy. 

As the server left their table Ninira stared at him wide eyed. “That’s a lot…”

“I’m starving.” Estinien replied, matter-of-fact, as he pushed the cream soda across the table towards her.

Carefully she took the drink in both her hands, the glass too big for her to hold it in just one. She studied the soda, an expression of sad longing on her face. “You really didn’t have to order this for me.”

He sighed, “well you weren’t going to, so someone had to.” He gave her chair a nudge under the table with his foot. “Enjoy it.”

She hesitated briefly before taking a sip, unable to keep the pure bliss off her face as the sweet drink hit her tongue. Estinien masked his own pleased smile by raising his glass to his lips. 

“You mentioned practice being cancelled because the others had plans.” Ninira commented, having recovered from the ecstasy that was her drink. “I suppose that’s because it’s Valentione’s Day, huh?”

Estinien shrugged. The thought of their conversation returning to the holiday was less than ideal. After all the more they talked about it the more there was a chance that Ninira might begin to worry that he was implying that this was more than just friends just so happening to hang out on Valentione’s Day. Because, regardless of how he felt, that was all they were. Friends. “I guess that would make sense.” He tried to sound as non committal to the idea as possible. “Hilda’s been out of town since Friday. She and Lucia went to some ski resort in Coerthas, extended weekend.”

“Oh, that sounds really nice!” Estinien had never put Ninira down as a skier before but with the way she lit up at the mention of it… “The perfect opportunity for cozy evenings curled up by the fire with hot cocoa.” She sighed.

Ah, that made much more sense. Of course she would focus on the possibility of hot chocolate over anything else. Though perhaps she had the right idea. The thought of a rustic cabin in the mountains, surrounded by snow, lit and warmed by a roaring fire didn’t sound too bad at all. His stomach fluttered stupidly, helplessly, as the scene he was now forming in his mind came with the very vivid addition of Ninira in his arms. If he kissed her he would taste the cocoa.

“Estinien?”

He came crashing back to reality, the restaurant with its ambient din and smells of Hannish food, and Ninira across the table.

Shit. “Sorry, what was that?” He tried, as smoothly as possible, to take a sip of his drink. Hoping beyond hope that he was not visibly blushing.

“I asked if you knew if the others were busy as well.”

He shrugged, “no idea.” It was true enough. He was sure Ysayle had plans of some kind but also knew she was more likely to run him over with her car than share the details. As for Fray he genuinely did not know, and honestly wasn’t about to ask. His business was his own, and Estinien appreciated the fact that the respect for privacy was mutual. Hilda and Ysayle could do with learning a thing or two in that regard.

“I know you said your next show wasn’t until the end of the month, but that’s not that far away really.” Ninira continued. If she’d been bothered at all by his sudden lapse in attention she didn’t show it. “Will you need to do another make-up practice before then, since you’re missing today?”

She was at the very least doing better than him at keeping up the small talk. 

“Maybe, we still have practice next week. If we feel like we need another one before the show I’m sure we can squeeze one in.” Estinien wasn’t worried about it. The band knew what they were doing, were comfortable with the planned setlist, and it was a venue they’d played at before. If he was worried about anything it was… “Speaking of, you’re coming to the show, right?”

She fidgeted with her glass, “I’m… not sure. I mean, I would like to, just…”

Right. Money was tight, and concert tickets sure didn’t fall into essential items. 

“I’ll see how things look closer to the date.”

“You know, if you do want to go. Me, or anyone else in the band, can get you in no problem.” She opened her mouth to protest but he continued. “We know you support us. Hell, you sell some of our merch at your place now.” At what could only be the slowest turnover rate ever. He couldn’t imagine that old men that came in to drop off dusty encyclopedias cared much for the local punk scene “We can cover you for a show or two sometimes, you don’t always have to buy a ticket.” 

“But I want too.”

“I know, we all know. That’s why it’s no big deal.”

Any further objections from Ninira were put on hold, and ultimately forgotten, by the arrival of their Papadums. Thank the gods. While he’d mostly said it to save face earlier, he really was starving. Still, he nudged the basket towards Ninira allowing her to take the top most Papadum before helping himself.

“So,” he watched amused as Ninira snapped off a piece of the fried lentil chip and ladened it with mango chutney. “What’s the book club reading these days?”

The book club in question was less of an actual organized club and more just whatever novel she and Aymeric had decided to read at any given time. Though recently Lucia had also joined their ranks and, from what Estinien could gather, they had started to all read the same book simultaneously.

Ninira looked at him, shocked, as she worked around her mouthful of food before responding. “You don’t really want to hear about that… Do you?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested.” He popped his own bite of Papadum and chutney into his mouth. Unlike Ninira he had not drowned his in the mango sauce, not that he was opposed to the flavour; it was sweet and contrasted well with the salt of the papadum. He simply knew how much Ninira liked it and wanted her to have as much of it as possible. Swallowing, he continued, “besides, you can spoil things you might not be able to with the others yet. It’s not like I’m going to mind.”

“Well…” 

He sat back, listening while Ninira started to describe the novel they were reading. Hesitantly at first, but with more vigour after it became apparent that he was still listening. He did his best to follow the plot she was describing. After all, he wanted to be able to contribute back, to prompt her to describe something further, or explain how something was connected. The more she talked the more he got to listen and watch; because when she did talk about her passions and the things that made her happy she was captivating… radiant. Since walking into her store that evening very few people had existed outside of his bubble of attention that was Ninira, now it was as if the restaurant had ceased to exist around him. His focus belonged to her, and her alone. 

Even the arrival of their order did little to distract either of them. The array of food was presented on a large platter, the dishes of curries framing the larger bowl of rice and the basket of naan. Between all the food, their drinks, and their individual plates their little table had become quite cramped. 

“So, Aymeric is convinced that the main character is going to end up with the childhood friend, but Lucia is sure she’s ending up with the glamorous famous guy that’s taken notice of her.” Ninira explained as she dished herself out a portion of rice.

“And who do you think she will end up with?” Estinien asked as he tore off a piece of naan, the still warm bread practically flaking apart.

“As much as I’d like to say I support Aymeric’s choice, Lucia has the whole story nailed down. She’s one hundred percent ending up with the famous guy. They’re both about as compelling as wet cardboard, though.” 

“Do the others agree with that statement at least?”

“Oh yeah! I don’t think Aymeric’s trying to advocate that the childhood friend guy is actually attractive but he’s at least a little nicer than the other option.” Ninira scooped curry and rice up onto her fork. “The thing is, the main character is also terribly dull and way too drawn to the glamorous lifestyle the other guy offers.” She paused. “I’m sorry. I’ve been talking about this for way too long, you've got to be bored out of your mind.”

He wasn’t. He’d listen to her talk about the stupid love triangle romance novel for hours if she wanted to tell him about it. “It’s fine.” He smiled. “But if you’re not careful, I will eat your naan.”

She gasped and quickly snatched her own piece of bread out of the basket, tearing off a piece and adding it to her mouthful of food with a defiant look. 

Estinien chuckled and lifted his own forkful of food about to take a bite–

“Wait, Estinien!”

He paused.

“Is that the vindaloo?”

He glanced at his fork, “yeah.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Ninira hurried to stab her own piece of lamb and pop it into her mouth. Her eyebrows shot up and she looked at him in earnest, lifting a hand to cover her mouth so she could speak around her food. “Estinien it’s hot. Like really hot. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I told you, my tolerance is way better.” Her eyes widened as he continued to lift his fork to his mouth. “I’ll be fine.”

He was not fine. 

He had expected to feel the heat slowly build as he took the mouthful of vindaloo. Instead the spice of sauce seemed to erupt as soon as it hit his tongue. It was so potent that it was as if his throat and nose were full of it. He erupted into a fit of coughing, while desperately trying to keep his mouth shut. He could barely breathe, barely see, his eyes were already watering. He should have listened, this shit was hot. 

Vaguely he was aware of Ninira loading up some naan with raita and holding it out across the table towards him. He forced his way through the rest of the vindaloo, his mouth screaming in protest, before taking the offered naan and shoving it into his mouth. The relief from the cool yogurt sauce was unparalleled, gods, he even moaned. 

“I warned you.” Ninira chided him. 

Despite the fact that he was clearly still suffering he tried to counter that he was fine but the spice still had a hold of his throat resulting in a second fit of coughing.

“Here,” Ninira pushed her untouched water towards him. “Drink.”

He chugged the entire glass which made her chuckle. Slowly he started to feel like he was no longer in the grips of hell, though he still had to wipe undignified tears from his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Fuck,” he wheezed, finally able to speak again. 

“What was all that about built up tolerance?” Ninira wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk now that it was clear he was no longer dying. 

Estinien scowled in return. “I’m suffering, and you’re laughing.” She raised an eyebrow at this and he continued. “I obviously just got the sauce stuck in my throat, it had nothing to do with how spicy it was.”

“Oh? So you’re going to have more, then?” 

“No.”

“That’s too bad!” She made a show of popping more vindaloo into her own mouth. “It’s delicious!”

Vindaloo aside—in Estinien’s case—the rest of the food was delicious. And, despite the fact that between them they had made quite the dent in all the food he had ordered, Estinien was relieved to see that there were still some left over for Ninira to take home. 

With the end of their meal came the arrival of their bill and the return of Ninira’s guilt. The price of the dinner didn’t phase him. Estinien had decided—long before his arrival at Ninira’s store—that he didn’t care how much the events of this evening cost. Unfortunately there was no way to translate this to her without making it evident that he’d been planning the possibility of this entire night for a while. Instead he simply went through the process of paying and leaving the restaurant as quick but nonchalant as possible, giving Ninira very few opportunities to fuss. 

Now, standing outside on the still snowy sidewalk Estinien exhaled, his breath hanging in the air momentarily before him. Aware that they were now barreling towards the end of their outing he found himself grasping at ideas to extend their time together. He did have a few, it was just a case of executing them…

“The snow’s almost stopped.” He noted. Ninira was preoccupied beside him, adjusting her scarf so it came up near her ears. “Want to take the long way back? We can cut through the park and catch the train from there instead of going back the way we came.”

“Oh!” She looked up at him. “That’s a good idea! I heard they put up a light display there this week. It’s supposed to be really well done.”

So she had heard about that, at least it would give them a reason to take their time. 

“Well we can check it out on our way through, then.” He started down the sidewalk, Ninira hurrying to fall into step beside him. 

They were a block or so from the park, waiting at a crosswalk, when the coffee shop across the road caught Estinien’s eye. He nudged Ninira lightly, getting her attention before nodding with his head across the road. “Want a drink?”

She followed his gaze, her mouth twisting with uncertainty. “Ummm.”

“To have while we walk through the park.” He added, in case she found the idea of another sit down situation unappealing.

“I shouldn’t… so it’s okay, I don’t need one.” The light changed and they started across the road. “But if you would like one, then by all means.”

Of course, he should have known better. Asking her was pointless. In that case… “Yeah, I think I’m going to grab one.”

“Alright!” She eyed the line visible through the coffee shop window. “I think I’ll wait outside.” 

“Okay. I won’t be long.” That suited him fine, after all she couldn’t stop him from buying her a drink if she wasn't there. 

Entering the shop any frets he’d had over what exactly to order Ninira left him as soon as he looked at the menu board. Right in the middle was a large display advertising their Sweetheart drink. A special Valentione’s Day exclusive; white hot chocolate, coloured pink for gods only knew what reason, topped with whipped cream, as well as an obscene amount of marshmallows and sprinkles. It had Ninira’s name written all over it (the implication of her being his sweetheart aside). 

He tried not to feel foolish while he ordered it—having to ask for one Sweetheart made him extra grateful Ninira had not followed him into the store after all—and tried not to fidget too much while waiting for it to be brought to him. The impact of the drink was lost a little by the fact that it needed to be in a take-out cup, but the barista did put a domed lid on it so that the cream, sprinkles and marshmallows were on display. 

His coffee in one hand, hot chocolate in the other, he made his way back out onto the street. Ninira was waiting where he had left her, near the door, pressed up close to the wall so that she was out of the way of the passers by. As he approached her she looked up at him, the faintest hint of uneasy surprise on her face as she quickly took in the two drinks in his hands. 

“Thirsty?” She asked, again, the waiver in her voice, again. 

He answered by simply holding the hot chocolate out towards her, while taking a sip from his own drink at the same time. When she didn’t take it he added, “that one is yours.” 

She started to reach for it but stopped herself. “I can’t pay you back…”

“You don’t have to.” He pushed the drink into her hands. “It’s part of the dinner… dessert.” He added. “It probably has enough sugar in it to kill a man so that basically makes it a dessert.” 

Ninira didn’t laugh. She did take the cup but rather than take a sip just gazed forlornly down at it. “I appreciate it but… I would have been okay not having one. You’ve already spent so much on me tonight, I can’t imagine why you would want to spend more.”

To Estinien the answer was simple, obvious. Because I like you. Because I really like you. Because I would buy you anything. Because you deserve it. Because I want to see the way your face lights up when you taste something you enjoy. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want to give you things, anything. Because I like you.

He, of course, said none of those things. “We’re friends, Nini. Do I need a reason besides that?”

She exhaled, her breath shaking as she did so. “No… you’re right. I’m sorry. I promise I am thankful, really! I just… feel like I’ve been a burden, making you pay for all this.”

“You’re not a burden.” He reassured her quietly. 

She nodded, “right.” He didn’t miss the way her voice cracked, or how she turned to try and discreetly wipe at her eyes under her glasses. Shit. He was pretty sure making your crush cry on Valentione’s Day was the last thing you were supposed to do. 

He started to reach for her but stopped himself. What comfort could he truly offer her?

She let out another long breath, “sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the mood. Like I said back at my place, it’s been a hard month.” 

“I know. I’m also sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” He stepped up beside her and she looked up at him. Blessedly her eyes were free of further tears. 

“No. No, you haven't.” She sighed, “ I just need to remind myself I am allowed to, you know, get given things by my friends. Like this.” She held up her drink a little and Estinien smiled. “What is it?”

“Ah,” he couldn’t bring him to tell her the name of the drink. “Some kind of hot chocolate. It was their special today, apparently.”

“Oh! Well that explains all the toppings.” 

“I have no idea how you can drink that. Just looking at it is enough to make me feel like I’m going to go into a coma.” Estinien admitted as they started down the sidewalk once more. 

This did make her laugh, “but it’s so good!” she insisted after taking a sip.

Warmth flooded through his chest, the origin of which had nothing to do with his own drink.

The city park was not far from the coffee shop. It was decent sized, and functioned as a popular gathering place and often hosted events year round. As Ninira has said the trees along the main thoroughfare had been done up with lights. Whether this had been done intentionally for Valentione’s Day or not Estinien didn’t know. It didn’t matter either as it was clearly a popular destination for those celebrating the holiday regardless.

They fell in with the crowd, following the stream of people as they made their way along the path of lights. Ninira was content to look up at them with wonder, Estinien however found his attention drawn by other things. The way the couple in front of them walked with their hands entwined. People with arms around waists, arms linked. He even went as far as to turn his head to watch as another lalafell rode past on their partner’s shoulders. Would Ninira like that? He glanced down at her, she was still looking at the lights, absently sipping her drink as she did so. It would have at least offered her a better view. 

Lost in his thoughts the walk through the park ended far quicker than Estinien would have liked. At least Ninira seemed pleased, her mood having lightened considerably as they walked. 

“That was really pretty!” She commented as they walked back out onto the city street. “I’m glad we did that. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to come see it before they took it down.”

“Oh?” From his knowledge, and text message history, Ninira spent most of her uneventful evenings in her apartment.

“It’s been too cold!” She made a face. 

Perhaps it had been, though he personally didn’t think it was that bad. And as much as he longed to find some way to drag their last remaining moments together even further, Ninira did look cold. Her ears and nose were visibly red and she shook, ever so subtly. “Let's get you home then,” he offered. “Less you freeze here and now, on the night you decided to actually brave the weather.”

A subway ride, a short walk, and Estinein found himself standing in the small alley that led to Ninira’s back door while she flipped through her keys; their evening officially over. At least the light above her door worked now. 

Her key clicked in the lock but she turned to look at him before opening the door. “Thank you, Estinien, for everything. I know I was a bit of a downer at times, but I really appreciate everything that you did for me tonight.”

He shrugged, “it’s no problem. If you need anything, ever, just let me know.” 

She gave him a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

It was all he could ask for. “Here.” He held out the bag containing the leftover Hannish food that he had been carrying since leaving the restaurant. “You should have this.” He added.

Ninira blinked, “but you bought that, it’s yours. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“Well, most of it is the Vindaloo. And anything that isn’t has probably been contaminated by it so…”

She laughed. “Okay, maybe it is best I take it then.” 

Relief, Estinien hadn’t really wanted to work around another instance of her trying to refuse his generosity. She took the bag from his outstretched hand peeking in as she did so. 

“I don’t remember it looking like there was this much left back at the restaurant. This will last me a while… thank you.”

“Again, it’s no problem”

“Well,” she turned a little back towards her door. “Goodnight, then.”

“Night,” He smiled, and tucked his now free hands into his pockets. Or at least, attempted to. One pocket was full, as it had been all night, and before his arrival so many hours ago. 

Fucking shit! God damnit!!

He’d forgotten all about the stupid thing! His plan initially had been to leave the box on Ninira’s front counter when she wasn’t looking, after she was finished wrapping up for the night. That way she would have found it the next day and, despite the fact that it would have been painfully obvious he’d been the one to leave it there, he could act none the wiser. So wrapped up in trying to get Ninira to agree to dinner, and then the euphoria of his success he’d neglected to ever take the box out of his pocket. 

Now he was faced with a dilemma, he could hold onto it, try and sneak it into her shop on another day. Attempt to do what he had planned to initially, or he could just… give it to her now. A terrifying idea, but he was running out of time to debate the possibilities, Ninira was already opening her door, already starting to step inside.

Just do it you idiot!!

“Hey, Nini, hang on.” 

She froze.

“I forgot something.”

Slowly she turned, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “O–oh?”

He stepped closer, Ninira’s eyes widening even further as he did so. He didn’t know why she looked so startled, he was the one who felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest with how nervous he was. Producing the box from his pocket he thrust it out in her direction. “Here.”

She stared at him and at the box before slowly piecing together that he wanted her to take it. “O–oh! Um…”

“I was at the store earlier and, I don’t know, they gave it to me for free. I guess I spent enough to get it or something. I don’t want it though, so you can have it.” Considering he hadn’t planned on any of this he was pleased with his story. It must have sounded convincing enough because she took the box with no extra prompting. “I uh, meant to give it to you earlier, but like I said… I forgot.”

“T–thank you.”

“Yeah, well,” He tucked his hands properly into his pockets now that he was able. “Goodnight.”

“G–Goodnight!” For some reason, Ninira still looked stunned. 

“Talk to you later?”

She nodded, “y–yeah.” 

Estinien watched as she turned, fumbling her way inside with her now full hands. She gave him one last glance over her shoulder before the door shut and he was left alone. He scuffed his boot in the snow, watching her door for a moment longer before tuning away to start making his own way home.

—

Ninira leaned back against her door, heart pounding in her chest, trying to catch her breath and still her nerves. The Hannish leftovers settled lightly on the ground beside her as she slowly released the death like grip she had on the bag’s handle. She was such an idiot. She couldn’t believe she’d actually thought he was going to kiss her. 

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!!

Of course he hadn’t! Why would he?

So caught off guard by the entire moment she hadn’t even looked at what it was he’d given her. She did so now, turning the box in her hand so she could read its lid. Chocolates. Not only was it a decently sized box but they looked like they would be good quality too. Estinien had clearly gotten a really good deal to get them for free. Intrigued, she turned the box over, hoping for a list of the types of chocolates on the rear. There was none. There was, however, a patch in the corner, the remnants of a torn off sticker, one that would have contained the barcode… and price. She ran a thumb over the spot. Give-away items were not normally priced… 

She straightened, still staring down at the box in her hands. The implications of being gifted chocolates on Valentione’s Day of all days… But she would have sworn that Estinien, of all people, would not have cared or given a damn about the holiday to begin with. Even if he for some reason did like her, surely he would be opposed to doing something so… stereotypically cheesy.

Perhaps it was all just a fluke. The store was just getting rid of old stock and had dumped it in Estinien’s lap as he had said.

Her head swam. This was all too much and she was definitely overthinking it. 

Picking up the leftovers she started up the stairs to her apartment. Despite the hot chocolate she had had earlier that evening she longed for a cup of tea. It would help clear her head and warm her up. She supposed she could also indulge in one, or maybe two, of the stupidly confusing chcolates. Regardless of the implication she wasn’t about to let the gift go to waste.

[rended-symphony]

I LOVE UR HEADCANONS 💯‼️ nyways since requests are open can i maybe rq feral boys and how they would deal with a long distance relationship ? mine ended badly sooo i will be coping with this lmao 👍

honey 🥺 i’m sorry yours ended badly, i’m sure you’ll be better in no time !! (assuming “rq” means c! lol still gotta edit the “characters i’ll rite thingy but it’s fine sigwsjuswond but we all know i’m gonna make a second part with cc!’s 😐 love em to much bestie)

warnings : swearing

~ c!dream ~

- of course it’s long distance he’s in a prison wihwksys

- his smart little head made a system where he could send you letters after sam stopped letting you visit (you visited him like everyday he suspected SOMETHING)

- he always seems so overwhelmingly sweet in the letters. just

- “and my love, each and every moment without you i feel like i’m burning from my core”

- meanwhile technos hovering over his shoulder like “bestie wtf”

- if he ever escapes he immediately runs out and tries to find you. most people hear that and assume he’s gonna try to… ya know… game end you

- and them seeing you as an innocent, try to protect you meanwhile you shove past them to go kiss your villainess boyfriend

- he is very passionate about most things, mostly you though

~ c!george ~

- he just naps on kinoko kingdom all the time and you live in the old l’manberg area, literallyright next to the l’manhole (cough cough enemies to lovers, you fought for l’manberg and he fell for you while guarding the walls)

- whenever he’s up he makes sure to write to you, before going off to mess with sapnap and karl (and quackity when they eventually make up and he visits them all the time 😌👌)

- sometimes he travels to the main smp to visit you and those day are so relaxing

- just sitting on a hill, wtaching over the smp peacefully. knowing that now, finally, all the war is over

- dream xd got jealous at first but then he started spending time alone with you and adores you

- if george can’t bother with a letter he’ll just tell XD to tell you something for him since he can just teleport

- listen the postal service is absolutely shit and we all know it. like literally still trying to send letters between lovers that are shocked that celebrity tommy wifehaver innit died

- “hey can you go ask y/n if i can have that cake recipe? oh also add in a quick love you, please” “sure pretty boy”

- “y/n!!” “oh hey XD! what’s up?” “george says, “can i have that cake recipe? also add in a quick love you please!” and you pat his head and tell him the recipe <33

- he bakes as a pastime and nikki helps him out, their countries are very good allies and you and nikki hang out whenever your over there

~ c!sapnap ~

- he cannot take staying away from you all the time, cc!sapnap literally made facetime canon JUST so his oc could talk to his lovers oc and it make slight sense

- the general situation with karl and quackity is that their all dating but your dating sapnap, but none of the others, though you are pretty good friends

- he used to live with you before moving to kinoko with karl and george, and you still have half his stuff at your place because he’s their half the time

- all the workers at the train are friends with him, so used to him going back and forth

- puffy will be out on a walk in peaceful times and always go “oh, other half of the happy couples back? good for you, sweet cheeks.”

- the whole smp likes to just watch you go on the longest walks. legit walked all the way to the arctic after being away from each other for a while.

~ c!quackity ~

- he honestly low key prefers it

- he doenst want you to get all messed up with casino life, he does really miss you sometimes. definitely visits you and everyone else in kinoko though

- even in peaceful times Las Nevadas is a reck, they only times there aren’t any major fights is…

- when your around. honestly the citizens just have such high respect for you they wouldn’t dare

- doenst really bother with letters but rather he just. texts you through chat. it’s easier and he gets his responses quick okay-

- but, oh whenever he visits kinoko

- days are filled with sunshine and jumping from mushroom to mushroom shouting “parkour!!”, karl and sapnap following a small distance behind, all the citizens hearing distant giggles filling the whole country

- “michelle” is his favorite song to slow dance to and he has no clue why. he just loves the look on your face when he dips you at the second “you are a monster from hell”

- love slow dancing. cant say more, he just loves to kiss you while dipping you as far as he can without dropping you

- which he definitely has done

~ c!karl ~

- cannot stand being away so much, sends like two letters a day and donates a fuck ton of money so that they can actually get to you quickly

- he loves just knowing that you giggled so he does random stuff in the letters to make you giggle.

- from just making stupid little dick doodles to literally sending it in a monster can as if he was lost at sea, he’ll go all out

- sometime he’ll hear a random noise and think it’s you doing your funky little surprise visits, but turns out it’s just a sheep that got it’s way into the house :(

- devotes lots little things to you. just a ton of rocks around the country written “karl + y/n <3”, torn up pieces of song lyrics karl wrote about you, toasts drinks to you. the kids literally make a scavenger hunt on items that like those that they found and placed around the country

- okay hear me out here- hear me out- he refers to the sun as your name. BECAUSE YOUR THE LIGHT OF HIS LI-

- ever heard “sugar rush” by addison grace? anthem

[scarfacemarston]

About the audio files: I dont understand what happened but I replied in a reblog about the audio files and it’s gone now. I dont have anywhere to reblog it now because the post is gone for me. Ironically, I was uploading audio files that I found right when I saw the post and the anon sent to me. This is what I wrote: I have just wanted to say that I found and have been working with the audiofiles for two years now. It has taken a lot of time and hard work because my files were never labelled at all. It was a jumbled mess that I had to datamine with. I took a lot of fandom abuse for some of the stuff I posted because it pissed off the fans of the characters. Some of the things I’ve received in anons in the past have been truly nasty. All because I posted audio files.  I am NOT saying that I am the first person to ever do this nor am I the only nor that I own anything. I do not. None of us does.

I want to say that I have devoted so much time to this project and I have fulfilled nearly every possible request that I could. There were a few that I couldn’t because of feasibility and time.

 However, I have every single conversation in the game and I found some that weren’t included in the final. (I know that only because you all told me they weren’t.) I have the individual files, too since that’s where some of my requests go and I’m able to match them as far as situation goes (like low honor)

I have also done every single companion quest which the shortest one was 80 pieces of data I had to weave together and make coherent. I had to guess.(Hence why there are occasionally mistakes). The longest quest I did was over 100 and I think it was 140. I found out later that I couldn’t upload them because of the size. I have the music, the themes for every character that was unlocked to me. I want to caution anyone doing the audio files that it can go wrong and seriously fuck up your computer. It did my entire computer and destroyed my copy of the game. My computer isn’t the same because of it. I had to buy an external hard drive for the audio because my computer couldn’t handle it. Every post you see no matter how short or long is me looping every single line of audio so it makes sense. I had to use a family member’s subscription they use in their audio engineering. 

 I literally put money into it as far the hard drive and buying a new copy of the game goes. I know I’m not special or unique. I just want to be appreciated or heck, even just acknowledged for the work I did and what I had to deal with on tumblr if I posted something that someone disagreed with or didn’t fulfill a request. I finally want to bring up that the person I am referring to credited the person who did the song work. I did some songs as well, but this person gave the complete info so the credit goes to them. They even knew the song names whereas I was guessing. I know that I’m not owed credit, but I would have appreciated a shout out. I’m already getting anons about this, too.

[heartshyuck]

Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst,slow burn, strangers to lovers au, first love, early 1900s au.

Synopsis: Lavenders symbolise purity, silence, devotion, serenity and grace. All endearing characteristics of the gorgeous boy, you met in the fields of purple.

Placed in the late 1930s , just before World War two starts, you flee from your family who are forcing you into a marriage. You lie low in a small village where you meet Jisung in a field of lavenders.

Word count: 23k lmao

Warnings: female reader, misogyny and very backwards ways of thinking, forced marriages, world war two + historical inaccuracy for progression of the plot, drinking

a/n: this is the longest fic i have ever written and honestly it was a mission, it took about a month to write and I am genuinely so proud of it and really happy with it. Please don't be scared by the length but when I say slow burn, I really mean it!

Your legs seem to be moving on their own, feet hitting the ground at a steady and fast pace, you don’t look back and can’t seem to see what lies ahead but still you run until your lungs burn, run until the bitter metallic taste is at the back of your throat where bile threatens to rise. You run until finally your legs collapse, knees hitting the ground, grazing them and it’s the slight sting of the sediment seeping into the cuts that stop you from passing out. You’re not sure how far you’ve ran or how long you’ve been running, you don’t know where you're running to but you have to escape. 

Escape the life they’ve laid out for you, the one they’ve planned without your input, you can’t live a life where everything is set out, where ’everything is expected and perfect. A life where you’d get married at 18 to a stranger who was of a worthy social class, attend formal lunches with the wives of your husband’s work colleagues and host dinner parties and occasionally large balls in a manor that always felt empty no matter how many paintings you bought to hang on the never ending amount of walls, no matter how many more bookshelves you tried to fit into one room, a place that you’ll always hate. Then to have children by 20, as many boys as possible of course to then not have any say in their upbringing and watch nurses tend to them, your husband educate them and then watch them get married, meet your grandchildren and when you’ve reached a respectable age, death will meet you in your sleep and you’ll be mourned and then forgotten. A life filled with regret, a constant numbness, no fulfilment and no meaning.

You saw your mum live that life, a smile that never quite reached her eyes, always plastered on at any given moment as she walked around the large hall with a glass of nothing but champagne in hand greeting the hundreds of guests that you were never able to comprehend how she managed to remember them all. She never spoke unless spoken to, never put in any input and always obeyed your father even when you could see the frustration bubble up inside her as her eyes glinted and her jaws tightened with the urge to say something.

She would buy gifts upon gifts and shower you in expensive luxuries, spoil you in riches as a form of love and yet it always held another meaning behind it. There was a slight sadness in her eyes as she passed a gift every birthday,christmas and any other reason she found, almost as if she was saying sorry for the life you were going to live and how she’d use these moments as blackmail for when that time came. You’d overhear her quiet sobs when you would sneak around the house late at night, read letters she received from someone you didn’t know and how they wished for her life to get better and for her to find happiness in a world where happiness didn’t exist. You saw your mother cry when your father died, eyes bloodshot red in fear rather than grief. Her life was now uncertain and that's when you decided that you couldn't live an empty life, regretting choices and wishing for death to come to you first.

Your father had always made sure that you would receive a proper education, one where you'd read hours upon hours of the finest English literature, works of science and learned of the past and present politics. He always said "a lady should know about the world around her but should never venture off on her own" you hated that phrase but it was better than what you overheard your friend's father saying to her when she asked for him to explain the concept of communism, "a women does not need to busy herself with politics, for your brain could not even begin to comprehend it" he announced with his nose high up in the air as if he had just said the most inquisitive statement known to man. It baffled you how one could even think that, let alone truly believe it enough to announce it so stupidly in the open, it was obvious that women were capable of understanding concepts like politics, maths and science for you were living proof.

You did better than your brother at grasping algebra, better at them with understanding Versalius's "De humani corporis fabrica" and it didn't take your friend long to understand Karl Marx's theory on communism once you explained it to her. It angered you that this was dismissed especially when your brother soon went off to universities for they had outgrown your father's enormous library and knowledge, there was no more he could teach them but there was still much to learn and you yearned to do the same but as you approached a suitable age for marriage, your everyday classes on Shakespearean English, Tudor monarchy, Greek mythology and Italian art had now been replaced with sewing, crochet, dining etiquette and the differences between napkins, white laced ones for formal lunches, gold embroidery for important dinners and regular silk for everyday use, you'd recite to your mother and the many maids who were on standby.

You've left that world now, left the bustling streets of industrialised London where a black smog always hung around the air and the smell of burnt rubber that stung your nose, you always hated both. Though you grew up in a large estate where there seemed to be a never ending amount of land on the outskirts of London, you never were allowed out to explore. Only allowed out with your mother to pick out fabrics in the markets, surrounded by military men that guarded the general's wife and daughter but now you were alone, no guards, no mother and no black smog to block your view of what lies ahead, only the sun and the ocean sky, clear of clouds as you breathe in fresh air that cleanses your lungs from the toxins that hang in the city air, surrounded by vibrant lavenders that arrive with a strong, sweet smell of pollen which you welcome to replace the bitter rubber your sense of smell only seems to know.

You close your eyes and bask in the warmth of late August , the sun gleaming down on you, rays striking against your skin with the wind between the strands of your hair, blowing the lavenders and they slightly tickle your arms. You’re not sure how long you were in your euphoric trance but you weren't ready to leave yet when the dark shadow was casted over you.

Your eyes lazily open and beauty lies ahead, the sun gleaming behind him, lights him on flames and he burns with a presence so strong you can see it as his aura swirls around you, engulfing you. His features,strong and yet his eyes are soft and even as he's turned away from the sun they sparkle infinitely as they hold the brightest stars, his stare pierces through you and it makes your gut clench as you feel small under his gaze but you don't turn away, daring him to continue staring down on you, well that's what you tell yourself as you can't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes. His face wears a worried expression, his hand out forwards for you to take and place in his and it takes you a while to realise he's trying to help you up, even longer to comprehend the words that leave his mouth, as you just watch his cherry red lips move. You're dazed and for the first time you're not thinking straight, your legs won't move to carry you back up onto your feet but your hand instinctively moves towards him and your own mouth gapes open as it does, and again he repeats himself emphasising the words as his eyes widen further “are you feeling well?” you stare blankly at him, no response until you feel the burning sensation of his hand in yours. A heat that sends shocks through every nerve, it runs through your bloodstream lighting you on fire and as if you were burnt you pull back, shaking off the dizzy spell you rise to your feet, your body finally responding to your screaming brain. A sense of relief washes over you as the fear of losing your mind slowly seeps out as the haze in your mind clears, until your eyes meet his again. “Really y/n, not for a boy” you cry out in your head as your mind seems to be lost in awe looking at him.

You shuffle uncomfortably and it’s just now you realise how much of a mess you look as the embodiment of beauty’s eyes fall down. Your expensive dress torn up, what was once a full sangria and silver ball gown was now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing as it stopped just above your knees, an uneven hem due to the rough ripping which took all of your strength, the white net underneath was visibly stained a brownish yellow, the cuts on your knee not being the only thing the dirt seeped into  but his eyes don’t even seem to stop there, they didn't even seem to notice, only meeting a piece of paper that lied on the floor. He reaches down for it, his eyebrows perk up slightly before handing it back to you.“You dropped this” he avoids eye contact, continuing to stare down, his hand abruptly extends out in front of him and he clears his throat, adding to the excruciating awkwardness between you and you wince at the sudden sound.

“Oh thank you..” you can hear your voice waver and crack and for the first time in your life, your voice isn’t confident, seems like a day full of firsts, your mother would’ve been proud if she saw you acting like this, like a lady she would have put it. Quiet, reserved but really it was just a suffocating stiffness that lingered in the air.

“Jisung” he completes your sentence, a small, shy smile appears on his face as his eyes look at everything but you, the letter still in his grasp he shakes his hand at you slightly urging you to take it. Your fingers brush past his ever so slightly as you take the letter back into your possession, a spark is sent through you and your fingers twitch, as if wanting more but you stop them from moving any further, your eyes slightly widen as you catch yourself falling so easily and if Jisung catches the weird expressions on your face, he chooses to ignore them not saying anything. “You are not from around here, are you?” His voice is light and airy as he speaks softly, as if you were made of glass and any harsh tone could break you, you can’t tell if it’s because of the immense awkwardness or because of the pity he must feel seeing you in such a state. You hope it’s the former and decide that’s what it is, when he starts playing with the edges of his white shirt.

“No I live in London” the words die as soon as they leave your mouth, you used to live in London, you don’t anymore. This only adds to Jisung’s awkwardness and it reminds you no matter how beautiful he is, he’s only just a boy who’s probably around your age. So you smile at him, letting out a small breathy laugh in hopes of lightening the mood, it works as he visibly unstiffens. “Used to” Jisung doesn’t press on the matter any further, doesn’t ask anymore questions, just nods. The unsettling atmosphere sets in once again and your incapability of standing in silence for more than a second, you clear your throat "do you know where this address is?" your tone light and airy, you sound almost clueless and it’s now you realise the true meaning behind every etiquette class, the role of the women is the domestic war, the war on power. For one to rise they must make powerful allies and that’s what this voice is for, to obtain the power of a man and trick them into helping you; so you're glad when Jisung takes the letter back into his grasp and examines the writing at the front, it’s worked.

“I’ll show you the way” and you nod with a slight smile as a thank you, Jisung leads the way and you follow soon behind, with his face no longer in my sight you can finally observe the rest of him. Judging by his height and build, seems like he comes from a well off family. Though there wasn’t a day you felt hungry, you weren’t blind to the outside world no matter how hard your parents tried to shelter you from it. The world is living off rations but the wealthy still have access to more, Jisung must have some sought of status or most likely works for a household with high status considering it seemed like he was running errands, why else would he be in a field full of lavenders and it’s only reinforced by the fine silk that flows as wind rushes past you. Somewhat similar to the material that makes up your gown, or what’s left of it, it’s an expensive material imported from colonies in the empire. He walks with no flaw and so you guess he didn’t serve in the war, meaning he has to be around your age; this new life is exciting and scary, you’re not sure what you want yet but you certainly wouldn’t mind if the boy in the lavender field stuck around for a while.

Jisung’s steps slowed and soon came to a stop outside a large estate, it was nowhere near as big as your parent's manor but comparing it to the small petite houses in the village you could just about see; it definitely was the biggest house in the village. You turned to thank Jisung, mouth slightly opened as the words were prepared to leave until you saw him pull out a key and a heat rose up your neck onto your face, in both slight embarrassment and excitement as you realised that Jisung must live here and your mouth couldn’t help but confirm your thoughts, “do you live here?” you blurted quickly with a slight lift in your tone, which you hope wasn’t too obvious in exposing your excitement.

His eyebrows rise, a small smile appears but he doesn’t answer your question, continuing to unlock the doors and allows you to step in first, a women who barely makes it past Jisung’s shoulders calls out to him, embracing him as she tightly wraps her arms around his waist, Jisung leans back slightly as a way of hoping to loosen her grip as his face scrunches up in pain as the struggle to breath sets in but there’s a constant smile on his face right until he peels her off. It’s then she punches him in the stomach, making him crouch down below her, holding onto his stomach.

“How many breaths must I waste in having to tell you to make sure you fulfill all your duties before you head to the fields'' she nags him and a smile is brought to your face at the violent display of affection, you guess he must be a part of the service team that works for the master of this house, which was exceptionally beautiful in the inside; much bigger than what it lets off from the outside, your eyes can’t help but linger elsewhere and observe the hidden beauty in all the small intricate designs. “Young master” the lady continues to punish him for his action and you head whips around at her words, she hasn’t even noticed you but Jisung’s eyes are constantly on you watching your expressions change as more as more information is being released to you, a smile appears on his face and at first it seems like a smirk but soon you notice the constant pink dust across his cheeks and you realise he’s embarrassed. There’s a strange feeling in your chest, a warmth that spreads and has you clutching your fists as you think at how adorable he is, your eyebrows furrow and you shake both the thoughts and the smile off.

Finally after what seems like hours of you staring at Jisung but in reality was no longer than a few seconds, the petite woman turns to you and acknowledges your presence,  her eyes widen in surprise and she rushes to your side. “Oh lord, my dear child are you okay?” she grabs your hands and ushers you down the hall into a secluded room that takes up a big portion of the ground floor of the house.

The kitchen, filled with plenty of workers,busy hands and food; she shouts at a maid to move a few things around and to make some space for you around the small table that holds vegetables and freshly cut meat. There’s the smell of spices that are definitely too exotic to be from these lands, parcels with German writing and several people cooking dishes you don’t recognise.

You're pushed down onto a small wooden chair that slightly rocks and it is by far the most uncomfortable place you’ve ever sat but you don’t dare complain even after the minutes pass and your legs begin to ache. The maids ran around you and even as you left that world behind, you still somehow ended up in the same position and then you realise it’s the fine silk you wear that sets you apart, the rows and rows of pearls around your neck and rings on your fingers. They don’t ask any questions, just wiping away at the dirt on your legs; the same women at the door pouring a type of alcohol over your cuts and it stings drawing out a hiss from you, “sorry” she whispers and blows slightly on the irritated skin. The kitchen quiets down and the other maids exit, leaving you and the same women who scolded Jisung, she didn’t bother to ask him any questions and quickly sent him away to carry on with the work he didn’t finish, she doesn’t ask you any questions either for it’s not her place to ask. 

She wraps bandages around your knees and your eyes wander around, landing on a picture of her with three little boys, you recognise the smallest to be Jisung, she catches your eyes and smiles “the masters, when they were little devils” she remarks making you and her both let out small laughs, “though they aren't much better now” she smiles fondly as she continues to wrap the bandages, you see love in her eyes and can tell that she raised them.

“The smallest is Jisung, am I correct?” you ask just to confirm your assumption, she nods and smiles, “i can tell by his awkwardness, it’s radiant even in pictures” you scoff and she laughs. "Who are the other two?" Your curiosity seemingly has no end.

"The tallest is master Jeno and the one in the middle is master Jaemin" she says as she cuts the bandage. You take note of their names and match it to their appearances though you assume they've probably changed quite a bit. The tallest, Jeno has crescent moons for eyes as his smile pushes them up, it's adorable. The middle, Jaemin also has a bright smile, probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen but Jisung still stands out the most to you, maybe it’s because you’ve seen how he looks now; the change is definitely visible, he’s grown much taller and into his sharp features. He's definitely handsome, epitome of beauty but by the way he timidly walks you’re not quite sure he knows it.

“Will these do, ma’am?” her hands hold onto a set of clean clothes and you only nod at her as you take the clothes from her hands, calloused and rough from years of labour. "Please just call me y/n" you tell her trying to remove your status and she only nods in return. "And what may I call you" you ask her.

"Daphne" she replies and you notice that she smiles at you, a full smile nothing quite like you've seen before and you'd like to think this what a smile should look like. Genuine. Instead of all the small smiles you recieved, the ones with hidden agendas and meanings, the ones because of who your father was, the one because of your status, name, title, money and a persuasion for your hand in marriage. So many smiles yet none truly considered one. God you hated that life.

"Now y/n let me show you to a room" she leads you out the room and you follow her upstairs, all the maids rushing back into the kitchen after you have left. She turns left and right and you find that the upstairs is far more complicated to navigate, with many different rooms. When she finally reaches a long corridor, she stops to point at the room that awaits at the end. "That will be your room ma'am" and before she even could finish her sentence properly, "y/n" you correct her and she only nods, giving you a soft smile as an apology."Please call for me if anything isn't to your liking" she says and just as she's about to step away, ready to leave you to get comfortable.

You call her back, "Daphne, can you please tell me who this is" you lift up the small blue letter that leads you here to this address, to finally put a name to the mysterious woman who only seemed to want the best for you and your mother. She takes the small letter from your grasp, examining the small font that's slowly fading due to the number of years it's collected dust. Her eyes widen as she reads the letter, her head snapping up to look at you, her lips parting slightly as if her jaw threatened to drop.

"My god" she says as she continues to read, shock written all over her face, "this is from the master's mother, dear" she tells you and you join her in shock as your jaw hangs a lot more obviously in shock. "She worked for your family when she was young" she continues to tell you and the ripples of shock continue to pulse through your body. Your mother and her are good friends from what you've gathered, reading all the letters you found. Yet your mother never even allowed you to mix classes, always telling you to stick with your own people, people who can pay for your time, literally. Yet here she was being friends with a woman considered below her, even considering sending you away to her. The hypocrisy is what shocked you the most, for you didn't think your mother could build relationships if it weren't for a social advantage.

"Can I meet her?" you ask, excited until you see sadness seep into her eyes, she looks down and she shuffles slightly. Her eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall and your own shoulders droop down and a frown is formed on your lips. "I'm sorry" you apologise but she shakes her head and wipes her eyes slightly.

"Don't be silly, you didn't know and it's better you found out through me anyways." She tells you and you're glad that you found out through her too, you don't think you would've been able to handle it coming from Jisung. "If you do not mind me, but when did she pass" you ask carefully as to not break her.

"Last May" she tells you and you hear sadness in her voice , as it slightly cracks and you release a deep sigh as to rid your body from the contagious mood. With that she hands the letter back into your hand and leaves you to wash up, "Dinner will be ready soon, please wash up" she urges you to go into the room.

You walk down the corridor, steps heavy as your heart grieves for Jisung and as you're reminded of your own father's death, though he planned on marrying you to a stranger you didn't love and never truly wanting you to live happily. You loved and still love him with every ounce of your being, all making grief an impossibly hard process. For your heart hurt and your mind could not comprehend why.  Your eyes stung with tears and your hands trembling with pain and still the mind was questioning why you felt sad. Then the guilt blooms, hovering above you, for this man raised you and cared for you and yet you question your grief as you sit by his deathbed. Yet you remind yourself that questioning your grief is better than not feeling any at all, you remember looking over towards your mother who wore black and instead of grieving her husband's death, she felt grief for her widow status that crushed her social status, for who was she without her husband.

So as you remove the many pearls and diamonds around your neck, gifted to you by your mother, you’re reminded why you left that life behind. You won’t be defined by your husband but by what you have achieved and for who you are. Yet you leave on the thin golden chain with a single pendant on your neck, as a reminder for where to come from and how far you’ve travelled. It was a gift from both your mother and father, the one gift you like to think wasn’t used as a symbol of your wealth to attract men in asking for your hand in marriage, the simplicity of this necklace led you to believe that this was a genuine gift of their love.

Changing out of your ball gown or the remainders of it, you feel anew. Stripping out of your old skin and into much comfortable and humble ones, you feel as if your new life is finally starting and though it’s far from what anyone would have wanted for your life to be like, it’s what you want. You’ve been here for just under an hour and instantly you're on cloud nine, floating to where only the sun is. The rays dancing on your skin and euphoria runs within your veins, this is life.  

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in a daze but soft knocks on the door is what awakens you and you're quick to open the door, not wanting to leave the person on the other side waiting but you’re met with a fist, that seems as if it malfunctions as it goes down by the side of the same person who seems to waking you out of all your dazes recently. Jisung stands there awkwardly, legs crossed and hands behind his back, he stutters as he says “dinner is...um.. It is awaiting” and with that he cuts himself off, rushing the words out of his mouth and quickly turns around, rushing downstairs.

You can only smile at him, how was someone allowed to be that cute. Following soon after him you enter into the dinning room, the smile on your face completely wiped off by the shock of two other men sitting around the table. Your back straightens as your body stiffens, by habit, you’ve been taught to look most confident when caught off guard.

“Sit here y/n” Daphne takes out the seat opposite of Jisung and next to a man you don’t know until he smiles your way, you recognise that smile and it’s still as pretty as it looks in the picture hanging in the kitchen. You smile back at him as you make your way by his side and take your seat.

“Hello, I’m Jaemin” he turns to you, dropping his fork and it clatters as it hits the plate, a beautiful smile across his face and you finding it comforting to think it hasn’t changed at all. He then lifts your hand to his lips, placing them softly on your knuckles all whilst keeping that damn smile held across his lips and staring straight into your soul, heat rises up your body slightly thrown back and he can see the shock in your eyes . Your well crafted facade cracking. His eyes are still boring into yours and you can’t move, stuck looking into his eyes, hands stuck to his until a kick. Coming from across the table, a force hits Jaemin’s shin causing him to yelp, instantly turning away from you and dropping your hand, you notice a small smile on Jisung’s face as he tries to conceal his laughter. You turn to look at where such a force came from, fierce strong features and an intimidating stare yet when he turns to you crescent moons appear, his aura changing immediately and the child in the portrait comes to life. “I’m Jeno” his voice is soft yet clear and all you can do is smile back before replying simply your name “Y/N” you tell him and he nods your way. 

Thinking that silence would now set in was foolish of you, for you should’ve guessed Jaemin isn’t the type to let there be silence and looking back now you could definitely tell he was itching to ask you so many questions. “I guess you have already met Jisung” he turns to you again and you only nod, looking up at the tall boy in front of you but he only stares at the soup in front of him but you know he senses your gaze as he twitches slightly in his seat, holding himself back from looking up and directly into your eyes. “He is not usually this quiet, he will warm up to you soon” Jaemin apologises on behalf of Jisung yet he grimaces at the words that leave Jaemin’s mouth but you smile at Jaemin ignoring Jisung’s expression.

The rest of dinner is filled with small talk between you and Jaemin, him asking you your favourite colour and trivial things like that, you discussed different authors and scriptors to which Jeno also chimed in on the conversation, both very impressed on your knowledge though you aren’t sure if they were impressed because you were a woman or genuinely impressed by the vast knowledge you had accumulated over the years spent in your father’s library however you brushed that thought aside, carrying on with the conversation, eyes drifting to Jisung at times who just sat there playing around with spoon, twisting it between his fingers instead of daring to look at you let alone to add to the conversation. Finally as Daphne takes away the plates, Jeno stands up dismissing himself from the table, “It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I hope you stay a while it was fun having you” he tells you with those same moons for eyes and you thank him for his hospitality “It was a great pleasure to meet you too, thank you for allowing me to stay” you say them at Jeno and Jaemin but they’re mainly directed to Jisung who brought you here.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to tell me” Jaemin smiles, a hand on your shoulder as he stands next to where you sit and you only nod at him, he then comes to your ear, lips so close you feel them brush against the shell “Jisung will come around, I’m sorry if he’s making you feel uncomfortable” he apologises on his behalf for the second time that night and you wave him off with a smile. You could already tell that Jisung is shy and awkward but it’s not confused for hate or resentment, he simply doesn’t know how to act around a female and it’s clear the way he trips over his words and his very own legs but to be fair they are very long.

After everyone left the table and made their ways to their own rooms, you too made your way to bed. Laying there you think back to how far you’ve come, a few months ago this all would have been nothing but a dream and now it’s a reality and the euphoric feeling you imagine is everything and more. Freedom is worth anything is what you’ve learnt, the freedom to live your life the way you want. To be in control of all your decisions, living with the consequences but not a single shred of regret because you chose it and therefore it must have been for a reason. It’s new and exciting but so scary as the colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach, all the possibilities panning out in your head and for some reason as you drift off to sleep that night, you see Jisung in this future of yours.

The sun shined in through the sheer curtains of your room, sunlight dancing on your skin and the warmth made you feel alive as it tingled. The house was quiet and as you look out the window you realise that even the Sun has still yet to wake fully, still sleepy rising out of the horizon. The birds chirp and the lavender fields roar as the wind dances but there in the middle of it all is a figure. Jisung. Your eyes light up and your legs are quick to move, still in your nightgown, hair in a mess you rush to meet him there. The stairs creak as you step down them slowly, as if a child trying not to get caught, you try your best not to wake a soul.

Once out the door you run out towards the purple sea, the cold morning air refreshing to the midday humidity that sticks your clothes to your skin, instead the wind blows through you and you feel free as all boundaries and confinements are washed away but then it hits you, causing your legs to halt. Jisung barely knows you, how weird it would be for you to run up to him at the break of dawn? Very weird you decide as you slowly make your way back to the house, hoping to not make any noise that might draw his attention your way.

Stepping back inside, your back against the heavy wooden door you let out a deep sigh as your eyes fall closed in relief. Thank god he didn't see you, you think to yourself as you just stepped into the living room and your heart dropped down to your stomach, lungs stopping as you see him there. Jisung flicking through a book, his eyes come up to meet yours which are blown out in shock as you stare between him and looking back at the door, his lips fold into a line and you practically see the questions forming in his mind as he scratches the top of his head.

“Good Morning” you say with a smile but the embarrassment isn’t covered well, eyes everywhere but his. He softly replies with a mumble you’re unsure if he actually said anything back or if you just made it up but as your eyes land on the book in his hand and all thoughts are banished. You rush round the table, Jisung’s eyes wide now as it’s his turn to be shocked as you sit down beside him, taking the book out of his hand to have a look at the title. “Ah a classic” you say as your fingers run over the title and Jisung only nods at your words. “Is it your favorite Shakespearean play?” you ask in hopes of starting up conversation, all you get in return is nod of the head but that does nothing but urge you to talk again to fill the silence. “I like Hamlet but i think Macbeth is my favourite. The best character being Lady Macbeth, a strong ambitious women” you state and Jisung only laughs at this causing you to turn back to him.

“She had lost her mind” he laughs again and you smile

“Yes but as a woman she exerts power and it’s not really seen much in female characters in stories and real life” you tell him, explaining how a woman like her is admirable for her strong spirit.

“Yes but doesn’t Shakespear describe her to have a masculine soul that within a femine body, he is saying the ambition and power are masculine and therefore is she really a good embodiment for strong powerful females?” he argues back, questioning you and you can’t help but smile.

“But he uses her and the witches to plant the idea of murder in Macbeth’s head, he shows that they are powerful and can achieve what they want through manipulation which he explains to be a women’s method, they are in control of the men and it shows that if it weren’t for social confinments that they would pursue their ambitions for themselves, is Macbeth really the one in control?” you question him back and he smiles

“You win” he laughs and pride is struck through you, there’s no feeling quite similar to winning a debate but there's sadness at the bottom of your gut as you remember and miss your brothers who you would debate with until frustrations would burst out of you all and it leads to punches being thrown around.

“Let me guess, you hate Romeo and Juliet” he expects you to say yes and you know it’s because he probably thinks their love for each other is shallow but you can’t say you do.

“I don’t actually, aside from the whole love at first sight, I somewhat relate to it” you tell him eyes staring at him but unfocused as you think back to how your own life was in comparison to Juliet’s, “the being forced into something you don’t want and dying for your freedom, in this case her freedom was Romeo but i don’t think he was the only reason she chose to flee, I’d like to think ran away for herself and to allow herself her own choices in life” and then silence as Jisung took in your words, a perspective he had never really thought about, the story was always solely based on romance but then again he had never been put in the position of being forced into something so life changing such as marriage. Jisung couldn’t begin to comprehend how it felt to be used so obviously for social gain and being stripped and deprived of anything else that would hinder that.

 Sensing stiffness in the air, you had to do something about it, you finally got Jisung to actually have a conversation with you. “Still Macbeth is the best” and again you manage to get a laugh out of him. The sound is so sweet that angels come down to listen to it, the heavens split open at the first bubble of laughter that leaves his mouth and your eyes light up as your body tingles with pride for causing it, you’re addicted to it and you're itching to hear it again. You need to hear it again.

The moment is cut off though with the entrance of Jaemin and Jisung’s eyes avert to his brother greeting him a good morning as quietly as he did to you and Jaemin sleepy replies in a yawn, rubbing his eye  before sitting down opposite you. “Morning y/n” he greets you and you smile before greeting him back, turning back to Jisung to hopefully start up the conversation again. “So what else are you reading?” you ask and your eyes light up as you scan over the many books on the table before you.

“Oh y/n, you know how to read!” Jaemin jumps up, it wasn’t expected for someone to be literate to the extent they could read Shakespeare or any higher educational scriptures, unless of a high class, let alone a women but your father taught you all he could and then you leached off your brothers who were lucky enough to be sent to school but Jaemin had already been aware of this “Yes my father taught me” you tell him and he nods rapidly.

“Yes I know, I just thought you’d like to know that there’s a library upstairs if you ever get bored and want to read something” he tells you and excitement bubbles up inside you and the instinct to run up there and have a look at their book collection is something far harder to conceal then it should be and Jaemin laughs at your eagerness. “Jisung could use someone like you, he’s always trying to get away from his studies” and you hear Jisung let out a nervous laugh as you turn towards him, completely offended.

“You have the privilege of being able to study and you want to run away from it” you gasp and it causes Jaemin to laugh again but this wasn’t a laughing matter, you were completely serious. You would die to be in his position and something about the way Jisung holds an apologetic look makes you think he knows you would.

“I guess you’ll just have to be with him to help him study” Jaemin offers a solution and your eyes light up at this, the excitement running through your veins. You all know exactly what that means, yes it’s babysitting Jisung to make sure he gets all his work done but it also means you get to study whatever he’s learning and expand your knowledge as far as you can. Jisung seemed hesitant at first but after seeing how you visibly lit up at the suggestion he couldn’t help but agree to take you along with him when he had to study.

After breakfast Jisung led you up to the library, it was a large room filled from ceiling to floor with books, the sight alone made you dizzy with excitement, as you stepped in the beloved smell of old books filled your senses and your hands instantly rushed to run along the spines of every book. Your eyes sparkled as you looked over each one and Jisung watched as fascination completely engulfed you, he couldn’t stop watching as you pick out a book, couldn’t take his eyes off you as your eyes skimmed the blurb, he was mesmerized by what he wasn’t too sure of. His eyes didn’t seem to be able to move on from your figure until you turned to face him, time stood still as he watched more and more of the bright smile that was held across your face be revealed to him, you were beautiful. Once met with yours, his eyes scrambled away as they always do and he was quick to turn around and seat himself at the desk that sat in the centre of the room.

You too situated yourself on one of the more comfortable chairs, opposite to Jisung, you watched him begin to write, his head slanted and both arms splayed out on the table, he was the height of beauty and grace, the gods carved him from marble, so ethereal Aphrodite herself was jealous of his perfection, Apollo envied his grace. Though you were here to study, read as many books time allowed you, your eyes were distracted and little did you know they were distracting Jisung as well. Your gaze causes his breath to halt, his hands to sweat and pink dust to decorate his skin. You were dazed, stuck in a trace of his beauty and had to do something to get out of it, you clenched your hand; nails digging into your palms, pressing hard to wake you. You forced your head to the side, eyes looking at the bookshelf once again but your actions caused Jisung to look up, you can feel his stare on you and a shiver is sent through your spine, too scared to look back at him, afraid you’ll be pulled back into his trance.

“You have a lot of German books” you say, hoping your nervousness isn’t obvious and just to be sure you get up and head towards the books. You feel him staring at every step you take and you just pray you're the only one that can hear the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage as a colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach. Fingers tracing over the German writing on the spine of each book, you try to distract yourself from him and try to compose yourself once again but then his voice echoes through the room, deep and smooth it sends shivers rippling through you.

“My father was stationed in Germany” he tells you as his eyes finally move away from your figure, a sense of relief washes over you as he continues to write once again. Yet you're still too nervous to turn around, too nervous to look at him, he who is the epitome of beauty.

“Still?” you ask, filling in the silence as you pull out another book, examining the words on the front cover but you instantly regret it as Jisung’s eyes fall back onto you.

“After the war he was assigned a higher position in the Rhineland and then after they were dismissed he was asked to stay along the French borders'' he tells you and once again your curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him another question. If you remember correctly, it’s been 10 years since the dismissal of the troops in the Rhineland.

“So when was the last time you saw him?” and instantly you regret the words that leave your mouth, your curse yourself a million times over. Jisung’s silence is all too overwhelming and your chest grows tighter as guilt takes over your body and just as you’re about to apologise, he answers

“He visited last year” Jisung simply states but you can hear the strain in his voice, the pain he’s tried his best to cover yet it seeps through and your glad you can’t see him right now because you couldn’t bare to see the sparkle in his eyes fade slightly as you remember the passing of his mother, that most probably led to his father returning back home. Silence settles again and your frozen by the shelves, the air so heavy it feels as if weights were holding you down, your mind hazy as you space out and as the common pattern goes, Jisung wakes you out of the depths of your mind with a voice as smooth as honey, it provides a comfort that sends shivers down your spine.  “He’ll be back soon though, he’s officially been discharged for retirement” he tells you as if he can feel your stiffness and out of the corner of your eye you see he’s giving you a small comforting smile, just to make the air seem a little lighter.

Time seems to fly past as you both sit there, Jisung’s hands busy writing away as he refers back to scriptures and your eyes busy as you read up on German politics and the structure of the Weimar constitution, that revolutionised democracy, the sun was now high in the sky as noon approached. You didn’t even notice until Jisung let out a loud yawn, arms above his head as he stretched and let out mumbles of how you should stop for today or at least take a break. You only nodded in response as you stretched your own limbs out, you had ended up curled up in the chair with your legs tucked away as you leaned into what you were reading. Jisung couldn't help but smile as he looked up occasionally to see your eyebrows furrowed as you read and he can't help the soft laugh from escaping his lips now as he watches you stretch. "And what is it that you find so funny?" You question him, eyes narrowed but your lips are clearly fighting back a smile and the sight of it flusters Jisung, stammering over his words ``N-Nothing" he answers and you let out a small smile to let him know you were only kidding.

As you both leave the room, you can't help but follow Jisung "and what is it you do after you are done studying?" Your question startled him as he visibly flinched at the sound of your voice and he mentally tells himself to get used to your unquenchable curiosity. "Except for picking lavenders" you tease. He lets out a soft laugh, the same sound you've been itching to hear since this morning.

"Nothing much" he tells as he makes his way down the stairs. Following him down, he makes his way towards the drawing room, sitting himself down in an old velvet chair, you place yourself beside him in a matching one. Your eyes peering over towards his hands that pull at needle and thread and you’re astounded by the sight in front of you, a male who knows how to sew is as rare as diamonds, as impressive as gold. Jisung continuously stuns you, his nimble fingers work diligently as they pull the thread to make patterns across the once plain cloth.

He can feel the burn of your stare on his hands, his chest tightens and his nerves are lit on fire, he is hyper aware of every wander of your eyes. His mind clouded by the mere thought of you watching him, his mind so fixated on impressing you, for a reason he’s not sure of, he doesn’t pay much attention to the needle any longer; a mistake he realises once the sharp point collides with the soft skin of his index, drawing blood. He flinches back away from the sharp contact as you leap forward to cup his hand in both of yours. Pressing your thumb against his finger, applying pressure in hopes of stopping the seeping blood, you slightly blow upon it to relieve it of any pain but Jisung can’t feel any pain not when your overwhelming heat rolls of you and radiates on to his skin, with every touch sparks fly on top of his skin fizzling underneath and seeping into his bloodstream. A fluttering blooms in his stomach and Jisung has no idea what this feeling is, it’s new and exciting. He craves it as his eyes drift to your worried face and once your eyes meet his, the emotion is buried by the overwhelming nervousness he feels engulfing him, his cheeks flush and his breath is caught in his throat. He pulls away from you and quickly stands “I’ll” he pauses thinking what to say next “I’ll get a bandage” he spits the words out as soon as his mind comes up with the excuse.

“I’ll get it, sit down” you stand up and ready to head towards any one of the maids that could help you but your steps are interrupted by Jisung’s voice once again.

“No it’s fine, I’ll get it” he blurts out, hand stopping you as he places in front of you, your head moving back on reflex, and with that Jisung runs out the room; feet moving fast as his left hand tightly wraps around his right index.

You sit there for what felt like forever waiting for Jisung’s return but in reality it was no more than 10 minutes, you were never one to hold patience. So you rose to your feet, eager to find the tall boy that let awkwardness roll off of him. Heading to the direction you saw Jisung turn, you make your way to the familiar kitchen, many busy bodies work their way around preparing for dinner as the clock is nearing sun fall. Your eyes wander the familiar walls with the same pictures you stared at upon the first day of your arrival, until they stopped on the figure they seeked. There he stood by the wooden table that just about reached his waist. He poured flour into a bowl, followed by two eggs and your eyes watched his every moment again and as if he could sense you, his rose to meet you once again. You smile because it just comes so naturally when with him and he smiles back, how could he not?

Inviting yourself in, you step closer towards Jisung, “A cook too” you say, you’re impressed and it’s evident in your voice.

“It’s a basic necessity” he says yet there’s a pink coating that dusts his cheeks, you know he’s flattered by your words despite his own.

“Basic necessity?” you question as you sit down, legs crossed, on an empty wooden chair just by where he stands “I guess I should learn” you state nonchalantly, not expecting the reaction it would provoke from Jisung. His head snaps to turn to you, his eyes searching your face for any indication that you were only pulling his leg, that this was only a joke but those indications never showed because this wasn't a joke, you were serious.

“What? Does a girl have to know how to cook?” you question him in a scoff, an eyebrow raised as you question his thoughts that control his expressions.

“No they don’t but I can be surprised, I know you are surprised I can” he rebuttals, calling out your hypocrisy but to this you only smile, you were glad Jisung could stand his own ground, it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.

“More impressed than surprised” you state, earning a smile from Jisung once again, you pat yourself on the back each time you manage to pull out that sweet, healing smile that seems to wash all worries away.

“Who’s to say I’m not impressed” he questions you once again and continues to mix the batter, adding more ingredients, again you smile at his words and Jisung feels his heart flutter at every stretch of your lips. He craves to see it more.

“Can you teach me?” your question catches him off guard and his eyebrows leap up into the soft brown hair that covers his forehead, “what I’m not totally hopeless, I’ve read a book on it before” you pout. Laughter rings through the air as Jisung has doubled over, unable to hold in the snorts and his breathing unsteadies as your words register in his head and this only makes your pout more prominent and your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m sorry” Jisung laughs out as his eyes fall onto your expression but he can’t hold it in, a few bubbles of laughter spilling out as he tries to calm his breaths, his eyes glossy as tears threaten to fall and you try to fight back your own laughter as the corners of your lips slightly perk up. “Did you say you read a book on cooking” he can’t even get through the sentence without laughing but he’s quick to reign it back in to allow you to answer.

“Yes” you say proudly, head still held high and Jisung bites down on his lips as the splutters of laughter threaten to escape again. “It’s obviously not the same thing but I’ve read basic methods” you state in defence.

“You make it sound like science” he scoffs at your words and you roll your eyes at his.

“Is it not, the mixing of substances to achieve a product. It sounds like alchemy to me” you explain your thought process and Jisung nods in agreement. Though you can tell he has something to say.

“Alright then, let us say cooking is science” he begins and you raise your eyebrow in questioning as to where this is leading “reading a method for an experiment is not the same as doing the experiment, there are things that are not accounted for, practical errors, measuring errors. The method tells you what to do but not how to do it” and before he can even finish his sentence properly you jump up, startling him slightly as he flinches back.

“And that is where you come in to teach me, guide me through the experiment” you plead but it sounds like he doesn’t really have an option, you’re practically telling him. He sighs but he has to give, how could he not when you're giving him your sweetest smile and when your eyes are practically begging him.

“I’m surprised you want to learn” he questions you “I thought you’d avoid anything that would have been forced upon you” he explains as he hands you an apron.

Your smile extends ear to ear as you take the apron from his hands, tying in behind your back you explain your sudden want to learn “Yes but I’m choosing to learn, this isn’t about adding another quality of a wife to my resume. This about extending my knowledge and as you said it is a basic necessity.”

Jisung only nods at your answer as he hands you another bowl, some ingredients already placed inside “follow after me” he says as he cracks an egg and pours it’s insides into the bowl and then turning to you he see you struggle, knocking the egg against the table softly you try and mimic his actions “Did the book not mention eggs?” he laughs and so does Daphne who observes close by as you send him glares that wish him death.

“Like this” he says as he places his hands over yours, guiding you but your eyes aren’t focused on the egg in your hold, you’re focused on Jisung who’s so close, too close. You feel his breath on the side of your neck and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as shivers are sent down your spine. The scent of cotton, jasmine and of course lavenders invade your senses and blur your mind. You can’t help but stare at Jisung, perfection personified as he concentrates on explaining how to assure no shell falls into the batter. Yet the words enter one ear and exit the other as you watch his lips move, your eyes stuck and it’s only when his eyes move up to meet yours does he also realise the little space between the two of you. His hands still holding onto yours, his eyes move down. Slowly they trace the features of your face, the bridge of your nose, the dip of your cupid’s bow and then they stop at your lips. His breathing halts, his heart skips beats as it dances in his chest and when he feels unbearable heat take over him he forces himself away from you. Quickly flinching back, his warmth leaves you, he clears his throat and turns from your gaze that still stares, he continues showing you what to do and no more words are exchanged as the heaviness in the air sets in.

Many weeks go by where you and Jisung spend all your mornings in the library, which had now become your favourite spot in the house, you look forward to picking up a new book every morning, look forward to watching Jisung so focused on his work, telling him all about what you’ve learnt and occasionally sparking up a debate but you also find yourself staring out the window wishing for the sun to only raise itself higher and higher as you wish for midday to arrive, to run away with Jisung down into the kitchen where he continues to teach you how to cook, some days he would take you into town to pick out fresh ingredients or some days into the drawing room where he attempts to teach you how to sow. After a few failed attempts, your patience wearing thin and much blood being drawn from your fingers, you give up on sewing however cooking is a much greater achievement and the outcome was worth every bit of it. The smile on Jisung’s face every time he’d taste something he’d liked, every time you remember a part of a recipe and every time he would sit down at the dinner table and Jeno or Jaemin would compliment your cooking. He felt immense pride in you and it fostered a love for cooking within you.

Other days when the weather prohibited it, Jisung would take you out into the lavender field. You’d sit in between the rows and rows of purple, picking at the prettiest ones.The sun high in the sky, august warmth embracing you as the wind blew over the roaring fields, dancing between your hair. “Look I learnt this from a book” you sit beside Jisung, his head snaps up and his attention is on your fingers now as they twirl the thin stems in and around each other to form a knot. “Purity, silence, devotion and grace are what a lavender symbolise” you begin to tell him “and you Jisung” you place the intertwined lavenders behind his ear, he’s visibly flustered as his cheeks turn hues of pink and it only urges you on “are exactly that” you whisper to him as if the lavenders had ears and could hear your confession, for these words are for Jisung’s only.

Jisung’s eyes widened as each word that was revealed to him, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind set on fire as chaos engulfed him. His thoughts scrambled and instantly his mind went to countless different possibilities as to what those words meant but looking up at you his mind cleared for he only saw beauty. The beauty your eyes held, as they sparkled infinitely each time they skimmed over the countless words on a book, the beauty your smile held when someone complimented your new found cooking skills, the beauty in your voice each time you called on him as the new found nickname “sungie” which caused his heart to melt, the beauty you held in the way you carried yourself never letting anyone put you down. Jisung adored you in every way, embers in his chest that grew into a flame, which spreads through his entirety burning all. A blissful pain sits at the core of him, aching, he longs for you but do you long for him? Is he but a fool to fall in love with a stranger, the stranger in the lavender fields. Is he a fool for falling in love with you? Is this even love? His eyes fixated on your lips, he examines the curve of them, the colour, their beauty. As if they were magnets he’s drawn to them, slowly inching himself forward, so close he could feel the warm air that made it past them.

So close and yet so far is he to you, the sweet smell of lavenders is dizzying, the sunlight burns your skin but against Jisung’s it only illuminates his, he glows. The urge to place your lips on top of his, eats away at your skin, the want crawls under and down your spine, shivers resonate throughout your body as he nears. The world falls away, the slight buzzing of bees fade, the tickles of the grass dissipate and you only feel Jisung. His presence, the brush of his knee against yours and the warmth that radiates off him. Your heart stops, you stop breathing, anticipating what’s about to happen next until suddenly Jisung’s head snaps to the right and reality comes flooding in as you hear both your names ringing and ripping through the air. “Jisung! Y/N!” Daphne shouts and Jisung jumps up answering for both of you “We’re coming!” Left completely stunned you sit there, mind in chaos as your embarrassment engulfs you. Your eyebrows furrowed, you think to yourself how you could allow for yourself to fall into his spell. What were you thinking? That’s the problem, around Jisung you can’t think, everything happens on pure instinct and desire. Then as if you had rewinded time, a shadow is casted over you, a hand is placed in front of you to take and as he did on that first day, he snaps you out of your daze. “Are you feeling well?” he asks in that same soft voice. Your hand twitches to move towards him and it takes everything in your power to stop it from falling into his grasp once again.

“Fine” it comes out much colder than you expected it to as you rise up to your feet on your own, his hand is left hanging awkwardly to which he slowly closes before placing it behind his head as he bites his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but fall on them again, they which were so close and yet so far. “Let’s go” and this time you lead him out of the lavender field.

The walk back to the house is silent, the same awkwardness that hadn’t made an appearance in so long settles in the air, it’s thick and heavy and you can feel it weigh you down. Upon arriving back to the house, a carriage awaits outside, a military emblem on the back and your heart drops, eyes widen and your steps stop. “It couldn’t be” you let out at barely a whisper.

But the slightest sound from you is enough to have Jisung’s head snap up towards you, for he’s been waiting for you to make a sound, any sound to rid this atmosphere. "What is it?" He asks also hushed, his eyes follow yours and there it leads to the carriage, a smile rips through his face and he runs ahead.  Confused you rush your steps but the anxiety building up in your chest stays, the lump in your throat is still hard to swallow.

“Y/N!” Jaemin calls you whilst waving his hand eagerly, calling you to come quickly and as you step closer the constraining feeling in your chest dissipates as the figure that steps out of the carriage is an unknown one to you. You stand by Jaemin’s side, who radiates excitement off him and you can’t help but smile as the little boy in the picture is standing right before you, the same eager stance and pretty smile that even the sun envies. The man exists and immediately pulls Jeno into an embrace so tight and you swear you see Jeno’s eyes sparkle as tears threaten to fall. Jisung is much less subtle at concealing his tears, he sobs into the man’s shoulder and it’s only then you presume this is their father. Jisung’s eyes are red and he sniffles as his father let’s go of him and your heart clenches at his adorableness. Jaemin is as happy as ever, hugging his father as tight as ever, eyes closed in pure bliss. You’re smiling like a fool as the heartwarming scene unfolds in front of you, so busy looking at the happy smiles and the stray few tears that are still running down Jisung’s cheeks you don’t notice the new acquaintance step in front of you until he clears his throat and you jump to meet his gaze.

“You must be Y/N” he smiles extending his hand and you place yours in it, shaking it. “I’ve heard a lot about you in all my son’s letters” your eyes widen and your turn to the three boy, Jaemin with that damn smirk on his face, Jisung avoiding your eyes and as always finding his shoes much more interesting, thank god for Jeno who offers a comforting smile assuring it’s all good things. “Sir you’ve raised three fine men, who have all welcomed me” you bow your head in thanks and he smiles once again.

“I couldn’t possible take any credit for it, it’s all thanks to their mother and Daphne of course” he turns from you to her and she pulls him into an embrace “Thank you for looking after them” he says barely audible but Daphne catches it and just as softly replies “but of course”. As everyone heads inside you wait until Jisung is by your side to start heading in as well, “Crybaby” you whisper with a teasing smile you nudge him with your elbow, he scoffs as he’s wiping his tear stained cheeks but he can’t help smile back at you.

Seated around the dining table, as always by Jaemin’s side and opposite Jisung, their father sits at the head of the table and more food than ever is being served tonight in celebration. You’re much more quiet tonight despite Jaemin continuously making sure you feel involved in the conversation, you’re eternally grateful for him. “So Y/N, why did you leave home?” their father asks so casually it almost goes unnoticed by the boys but Jisung almost chokes on his water, Jeno’s eyes widen and Jaemin almost immediately tries to shut down the conversation “Father” he gives him a pointed look, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed as he shakes his head.

“Jaemin, it's okay" you smile towards him, "freedom i suppose sir" you answer the question and Jisung's father squints his eyes, as he lets out a hum in acknowledgement of your answer. "Even after all your family has done for you?" He continues to question "you come from the family my late wife used to work under, am I correct?" And you simply nod "yes I do".

"The late General's daughter" he states "I wonder if he's turning in his grave at this moment" Jisung's grip on his silverware tightens and you notice his knuckles turn white and once again Jaemin's stare is begging his father to stop as Jeno looks over to see how affected you are by his cruel words. You don't falter though, you know what you've done can seem selfish but it was necessary "I'm sure he is" you laugh out "but he's always known I'm never one to listen" you continue to pick away at the food on your plate and you can feel all there gazes falls onto you, as you look up Jisung’s eye bore into yours as he mouths a soft “sorry” to you and you smile back at him shaking your head.

“I assume you’ve run from marriage” Jisung’s father starts up conversation again and you only nod as an answer “Are you against marriage?” he asks and it’s if he wants tears to fall from your eyes as he keeps pushing where he knows it’ll hurt. “Of course not but I would like to pursue a higher education or experience the world first” you explain, still keeping your calm.

“You think a woman is capable of doing such things?” he asks again and it’s this question that really makes your skin crawl and your jaw tighten. Questioning your methods of gaining freedom is one thing but looking down on all women and claiming them unable is one you can’t stand for. “I think we are very capable, I think the suffragettes have made that very clear and sir didn’t you work with the Weimar Government, they were the first government to allow women to vote I would think their initiative would have rubbed off on you” and he only smiles at your answer.

“I was stationed in Germany and worked under the Weimar Government up until their collapse, you’re correct” he begins to tell you “I have to tell you that I agree with your view, I’ve seen much that women are capable of doing” he says and your eyes widen at his words “I think what you did was brave and admirable, my three boys could learn from you, I hope you can lend Jisung some of your courage” he smiles at you and your jaw still hangs as does everyone else's around the table and as you look up to find pink hues invading Jisung’s cheeks once again, if you didn’t know any better you would have thought it were always like that regardless. You nod at their father before answering back “I think I’m the one who’s learning a lot form Jisung sir” and the shades of pink darken

The atmosphere had lightened again somewhat although the topic on war was not a light one at all, as their father expressed his worry about sending his three sons off to war and how in ruins the country would be again, worry sat in your chest. Jeno and Jaemin are strong all physically, emotionally and mentally but Jisung is the sweet boy who wouldn’t hurt a bee. “What do you think of the current situation of our country Y/N'' Jeno taking you out of your thoughts, you head snaps up to him “I think the war is unavoidable despite our economic stance, Germany has already invaded Czechoslovakia and it’s only time before they invade Poland meaning our involvement in the war is definite whether we want it or not'' the table falls silent as they process your words and it’s not until Jisung’s father begins to nod and expand on your thoughts but you zone out as you watch Jisung fiddle with the knotted lavenders you had gifted him and your lips can’t help but curve.

The next morning a book awaited you on your vanity, a scarlet red cover with gold print, you ran your fingers along. “Sonnets'' it read and as you flicked open to the first page, familiar handwriting appeared “A collection of my favourite - Jisung” a smile spread across your face as it usually did when your thoughts ran to Jisung. You sat down flicking to the first poem “Sonnet 18” a giggle escaped your mouth and like a schoolgirl already aware of the beauty Shakespear's arguably most famous sonnet holds, the giddy feeling of butterflies blooming caused your heartbeat to quicken and a heat to rise.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And too often is his gold complexion dimm’d:

Annotations surround the poem as Jisung highlights and picks out certain lines. The second line is underlined and next to it he writes “Though you are lovely, temperate is definitely up for debate” he teases and you scoff at his words. You read on and lines four and five are underlined and his annotation reads “The eye of heaven is you who shines gloriously throughout the day and yet too often you allow yourself to dim. Don’t.”

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or natures changing course untrimm’d;

By thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

“You are my eternal summer, your beauty is one that isn’t possible to vanish, it’s infinite unlike summer which collapses in winter” you read on as lines nine and ten are underlined.

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

The the final annotation as the last three lines are highlighted, Jisung says “Your beauty shall remain eternal so long as my heart beats, so long as i live and breathe, so long as my eyes can see your beauty, I only seem to think of you now as i read this poem and in this poem the memory of you shall live on” you heart beats erratically in your chest, you’re breathless as his words halt your breathing. Forgetting such simple acts as thinking and even breathing seem to be a regular side effect in the presence of Jisung, just the mere thought of him. Your palms grow sweaty, your heart clenches reading over the words again and again, you pinch yourself. For this moment, seems like nothing but a dream, your heads in the cloud, you're living in the heavens. The feeling is suffocating, your own throat is closing in on you, the pain in your chest spreads like wildfire, your whole body aches with admiration for him. Yet the constant question looms over your head, what does he really mean by this? Is his feeling the same as yours? Or is he portraying the beautiful friendship you both have built over the weeks? One thing is sure and it’s that you can’t ruin that, can’t let the heavy air seep in once again and weigh you down.

The days folded out as normal, Jisung’s presence still as overwhelming as ever but you couldn’t help but find serenity in it, he was soft spoken yet his silence speaks the loudest for him, his grace and beauty as  were one to be envied by all but you were nothing more than grateful for being able to witness it day after day, it were as if he had walked out of your dreams. The stolen glances, lingering stares as he smiled or laughed, he stole your heart and he wasn’t even aware it was his anyways. Sitting opposite him, you stare not caring if he or anyone catches you for your far past the point of holding any shame and allowing your eyes to do as they please.

"I have something to announce" Jeno suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence, all eyes turn to him and he audibly gulps. You’ve never seen him so nervous, fiddling with his silverware you almost mistook him for Jisung. He clears his voice before speaking, taking in a deep breath he prepares himself for the words that are about to leave him, “I am to marry” he says quickly waiting for a response, an outroar, a gasp and maybe a few tears but none of them come.

“About time don’t you think” Jaemin laughs out causing the rest of the table to release small giggles at Jeno’s expense, “You have been all giddy and heart eyes at that girl in the village since we were all but five- OW" Jaemin's face twists in pain, hands rushing to his shin as he's cut off by a harsh kick. Jisung and you burst into laughter not being able to hold it in any longer.

"And what are you two laughing at" Jeno punches at Jisung’s shoulder, immediately causing him to halt his laughter as he rubs his shoulder “Well brother, it’s not like it is a secret. Even Y/N knows” and you giggle again as Jisung enlightens Jeno on his obvious swooning.

“What?” Jeno’s eyes widen as he turns to you and you can’t help but laugh even more. “We visited the village and your eyes were stuck, Jeno you walked straight into Jisung” you burst out laughing as you recall the memory. Once the laughter, the teasing, the amount of huffs that leave Jeno quiet down your left with comfort, a bliss that you’ve never felt before, a smile that just won’t leave your face. It’s a beautiful feeling and you wish to memorise it for if numbness overtakes your body, you can relive this exact moment of the solace you found in those around this table.

“Is that three out of the four of us in love?” Jaemin smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips, looking around the table, Jeno scoffs at his words but confusion is written all over you and Jisung. Did Jaemin know that your heart only seems to beat for Jisung? How did he know? Who was the other person? Was it Jaemin or Jisung? If Jisung, who did he love? The questions ran through your mind in circles and it only spewed more questions to follow, your head was spinning stuck in the spiral of curiosity, but curiosity always killed the cat.

But cats have 8 other lives right? That is what you had decided later that night, sat beside Jisung on the stone wall, letting curiosity take over you - slightly. Your legs dangled, swinging them back and forth, whilst Jisung’s gaze was set on the crashing waves of purple as the moon pulled them back and forth; yours were stuck on him. The moonlight illuminated, captured his beauty in a way the sun couldn’t, it seemed the goddess of the moon saw greater beauty in Jisung than Apollo could ever begin to understand.

“I could not fail to realise that sonnet 23 was not amongst your favourite” your eyes darting out towards the fields as his turn to you, “It’s one of my favourites” you tell him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but do you not think it’s a bit cliche” he laughs and your eyebrows shoot up in slight disbelief “and sonnet 18 is not” you scoff, finally meeting his eyes.

“Sonnet 18 is beautiful” he argues and he swings into you, nudging you slightly, rolling your eyes you nudge him back “Sonnet 23 is just as or dare I say more” and he smiles slightly, eyes turning back to the night sky, the clouds running over the moon and Jisung is left amongst the stars. “How so?” he dares to question.

“It is, for one, far more romantic” you begin “the thought of one loving you with so much passion, so unconditionally that it can not even be professed by words yet the love they feel is so strong they need an escape, to tell that person what they can not truly express fully, to let them show you how much they love you. To hear with eyes as Shakespear so beautifully put it” you nudge him again and he looks down at you, a smile as radiant as the sun,moon and stars combined graces you and again Jisung has stolen your heart in complete silence

“Yet what I love about Sonnet 18 is that it is not too romantic, that the love that Shakespear professes can be for a lover or a friend, he speaks of all the imperfections of summer yet still he loves it, he describes the person he loves as someone who defies all the imperfections for in his eyes they are perfect imperfections when it comes to them” he nudges you back with a slight giggle but you can’t return his happiness for you have been stung as his words seep into your mind.

“Oh for a friend” you whisper, he hears your words but not the sadness behind them as he continues with that bright smile “and that is why it was so perfect to give to you” his words are daggers to the heart, piercing through, it shatters and the fine pieces scatter throughout you and the sadness seeps through every fibre, cell and atom of your body.

“Are you feeling well?”he asks and worry sweeps the smile off his face as he finds the glossiness of your eyes, the slight redness as well as the unusual silence from you. “Fine” you answer jumping off the stone wall, “Just tired” you say looking out to the goddess of the moon one last time, unable to turn and look at the art she admired most. “Goodnight Jisung” you say as you turn back to the house, not sparing him a glance for he stole your heart and then broke it. 

Though that night your tears mixed with moonlight until Morpheus took you to dream and then the next morning tears mixed with sunlight as Apollo pulled his golden chariot, with swollen eyes and a throbbing head you promised this wouldn’t affect the beautiful friendship that had bloomed. Jisung may not love you the way you would like but he still loved you, as a friend. The mere thought of the word stung, another aching rippled through you and your bones quacked.

Many dusks and dawns had passed and since,you’ve managed to create some distance between you and Jisung but as once said distance makes the heart grow fonder and you curse whoever uttered such truth. For every stolen glance and accidental touch seemed to make your dormant heart beat with every intent of being heard as it rose to your throat, suffocating you.

Jeno’s upcoming wedding being the greatest of all excuses to run away from the burning presence of Jisung, for you would flee to the village with Daphne and pick out materials, help Jeno’s fiance pick flowers, handwrite invitations with Jeno and accompany Jaemin on whatever errands he had been sent to do. No one questioned how you decided to spend your time, other than of course Jaemin who couldn’t help but let his curiosity lead the words that spewed out of him, to which you told him he’d regret someday.

“Just tell me Y/N” he groans as he carries the large basket of apples “Why spend your time with me instead of Jisung” he continues to pursue the answers you deny him of.

“Maybe because, and I dare to say, I like your company more” you pinch his cheek and laugh at the pout that forms on his face “What answer are you looking for Jaems, what would you have me say?”

“I want you to say you are helplessly in love with my brother who is just as in love with you however both of you are too busy quoting literature that is up for interpretation rather than professing your feelings because you lack the courage to do so” you freeze at his words and he also comes to a halt, turning towards you his eyes, sympathetic “you both are as obvious as Jeno” he lets out a small laugh.

“He does not love me Jaemin” your voice stern as you try to convince one who believes in fairytales, your steps quicken and he chases after you “and how exactly do you know?” he questions, curiosity endless.

“He said so, he said he gifted me Sonnet 18 as a friend.” You scoff at the absurd word that causes so much pain and you say it with spite everytime.

“Like I said he lacks courage and as my father said you, Y/N, can help him gain it” he tells you, eyes wide with hope and you admire Jaemin for being a hopeless romantic and you only hope he meets someone who completely fulfills his ideology of love.

“I don’t think I possess such courage anymore” you break it to him for Jisung has broken your heart once, how can you have the courage to allow him the chance to do it again.

Jeno’s wedding arrived much sooner than expected, as the weeks rushed past in much haste as the many busy bodies prepared for the beautiful evening and as hard as you tried to separate yourself from Jisung, the universe liked to disrupt those plans. To the place it all started, so close yet so far apart, you stood rows away from Jisung picking only the prettiest lavenders as per Jeno’s request. The air was thick and heavy despite the August breeze that ran through the fields, an unfamiliar heaviness sat between you two for even as strangers you were far more comfortable. Maybe it’s due to the curiosity you held back then, for the boy in the lavender field, beauty that wasn’t done justice by the word but now that you know him, adore him and are in love with him and now that your heart belongs to him but his not to yours. There’s a void left for the seeping awkwardness to fill, an uneasiness sat in your gut and every moment was excruciating to bare as your heart pains at every beat that belongs to him who does not seem to care.

“Lavenders wouldn’t be my first pick for a wedding” he speaks up first, the silence with you was something he wasn’t used to, you always made sure to replace it with continuous talking and contagious laughter and now that you weren’t, it didn’t feel right to him but you only nod in response not entertaining his thoughts any further. Jisung preferred silence, his thoughts more coherent, his emotions understandable, the silence was comfortable and not overwhelming but with you he couldn’t stand it, mind always wondering what you were thinking, what you were feeling, he needed to know. 

So he carries on speaking, “If it were up to me, Irises and carnations” he expects an interrogation, your endless curiosity asking why that would be his pick but it never comes. So he continues speaking, giving you the answer you didn’t ask for “Irises mean faith, fitting for a lifelong vow” he laughs as he looks over to you stoic expression, cutting off his soft laughter he again begins to speak “and carnation, white ones that symbolise-”

“Eternal love” you cut him off, turning to him, finally speaking yet your tone is monotonous and there is no emotion evident on your face. There’s slight fear in him and it rises, a lump forming in his throat that he can’t quite seem to swallow “Exactly” he choked out, voice strained.

You let out a breath that seemed to be weighing you down, you couldn’t let him continue talking about the meaning behind the flowers, your heart couldn’t take it for aching stops momentarily and instead it flutters and swoons across your chest but then reality hit and it shatters all over again, the pain shooting through your bloodstream.

“Are you feeling well?” he asks as he always does and you answer “Fine” as you always do, even though you both know it’s a lie but he doesn’t push any further as always. The longing feeling for you to look at him and spill all your worries and feelings to him is so great but he doesn’t want to push you to nor does he expect you to trust him with that vulnerability when he himself does not have the courage to do the same back to you.

“I’m going to leave after Jeno’s wedding” you announce working up the little courage you have left, if you say it out loud then you’ll have to follow through. “Thank you for everything” you brace yourself to meet his eyes once more as you turn. “What? Why?” concern so evident in the way his voice wavers, eye glossed over as tears threaten to fall.

“I left to seek my own happiness in life, to make a mark on this Earth yet instead I ran from relying on my family to relying on you and yours” again your voice is completely void of emotions, yet every part of your body was screaming. Longing for the warmth, solace and peace you had found here and it’s at this point you curse yourself for memorising that bliss for all you will do is miss it.

“Did you not feel happiness here?” he screams out, harsher than he expected as he voice comes out rough and broken and you stand there eyes wide for this was the first time the pure,silent and serene boy that stands in the lavender fields has allowed so much emotion to course through his body and you can tell by the way he shakes, the way he struggles to breath and the shock that immediately washed over him upon hearing his own voice raised “I’m sorry” he mumbles in a heavy exhale.

“Thank you for everything Jisung” you offer him a smile as you leave, avoiding his question, leaving him standing alone in the lavender fields.

Leaving the basket of lavenders with Jeno, you rush up the stairs and only when behind the safety of your door do you allow the tears to come streaming down your face, sobs escaping and you hold your mouth to conceal them as you take deep shaky breaths to steady your breathing. Your whole body aches and shakes as it mours the end of your stay, the tears cloud your vision and as you lay down to ease the heartbeat in your head, you cry yourself into a slumber. Even as the dreams swirl around you, pulling you into the unconscious, reality never truly slips away, it haunts you as even in the world you build you can’t stray away from it. The ability to dream of anything further isn’t a possibility, he doesn’t love you and that’s the reality. Why bother dreaming of something that isn’t meant to be. Yet you can’t help but dream of him. His eyes, his smile, his warmth, the pink dust that always decorates his cheeks, his laugh and his existence.

In your days you are held hostage by the daydreams, the what ifs. It felt like you had loved him in every lifetime, you wonder if any had got it right? Had any been loved by him? Your body lies stiff, falling in and out of consciousness but your mind never leaves him. Days go by but time becomes nothing but a construct, eating only becomes a chore.

“Y/N?” a soft voice calls as the door narrows open, a steady stream of gold shining in. You don't move, your head feeling like it's weighed down but you can easily identify the soft voice that speaks. "I brought you something to eat" the footsteps near you, the heavy thuds vibrating through your head. Your eyes peek open to meet Jaemin who crouches down beside you. He moves the few stray strands of hair behind your ear, noticing the wet glimmer of your cheeks he wipes away the tears that stain them.

"What's wrong?" He whispers as if any harsher tone would break you, as if you weren't already broken. You shake your head as your only reply, voice too weak and broken to speak up. You would love to talk to Jaemin, to spill all your worries and heartache but this is a pain too painful to speak of. His hands hold onto your cheeks wiping away any of the stray tears that still fall. His warmth is comforting but it only makes you yearn for Jisung’s more.

Jaemin doesn't leave you that day, he sits by your side in silence. He holds your hand and wipes away your tears, he doesn't attempt to mend your heart, he just sits beside you as it cries out the pain. "It will heal, it will mend itself" he whispers to you as you drift off into the unconscious once again.

It’s the constant knocking at your door that drags you out of the depths of your slumber, pulling you back, the light that streams in as the sun is about to set and you wonder how long you have slept, what time it was and what day it is. Then another knock calls your attention from the window and Daphne steps in “Y/N” she says and her voice is high in surprise as she examines the puffy redness around your eyes. “I was expecting you to be already awake, it is almost time to head to the wedding” she chooses to ignore the wet stains on your silk pillow, choosing to bite her tongue. You choose not to answer her back afraid your voice was raspy and would break, you crawl towards the edge of the bed and swing your legs over as you make your way to the chair that neatly holds your gown for the night, the night that has finally arrived,your last night.

You can see her face change, each one expressing the internal turmoil within her as she questions whether or not to say something. “Just say it Daphne '' you sigh out in a weak smile as you change into the many layers that need to be placed under the gown.

“Ah well” she begins nervously as she fiddles with her loose strings of her apron, she stutters and stumbles over her words but you’ve been taught patience by Jisung as he’d do the same.You smile at the memory of him stuttering, blush across his cheeks as he got nervous causing him to stumble over his words more. You loved seeing him so flustered, loved seeing him progressively become so comfortable around you he never stuttered, became so confident and articulate it was as if he became another person but the same dust of pink never faded but the more you think of him the more it pains and your heart swells as it aches. “You see y/n” she finally spits out as if she had been wrestling the words “If this is your last night, would you not want to leave with a loving memory?” she asks nervously. 

“So it seems word has travelled” you let out a small laugh as you turn to her to pull the strings of your gown and as her hands move to tie knots she laughs as well “Nothing gets past me” and her nervousness visibly dissipates. No more words are exchanged as she helps you ready for tonight, no more words are needed as she sees you slip into the depths of your mind, thinking of what your next act is.

As she places the same pearl necklace you wore the day you came here around your neck, clasping it, she finally turns to leave and through the mirror you see her hesitate but she turns back around a smile across her face “It was a pleasure to meet you ma’am” she says with teary eyes “Y/N” you correct her as you rise quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around her and from the corner of your eye you see Jisung standing at the end of the hallway, witnessing the goodbye he run back down stairs. You saw the glossiness of his eyes and though you would love to leave as a happy memory, would he allow it?

You nervously make your way to the drawing room, there he sits in a black suit, his hair neatly styled yet it looks not much different to everyday. He should not look this good but he does because he is the epitome of beauty. He is beauty personified. You let out a deep breath before you step into his line of view, preparing yourself for whatever is to come next. “Jisung” you call softly but he refuses to look up at you, you can hear him sniffle and his breathing is heavy and you almost could trick yourself into believing he loved you the way you loved him. You sit beside him and take his hand in yours, rubbing small soothing circles by the knuckle of his thumb you attempt to speak, “I am leaving” you choke out,the words are stuck in your throat and he rips his hands away from yours, turning completely with his back towards you. You sigh once again, “Let’s me leave with good memory” you beg, voice small and shaky. This was not the y/n Jisung first met, not the y/n he knows now and definitely not the y/n he fell in love with for you were never one to speak so quietly, yet here you are broken. So he puts away his own selfishness to feel sadness, anger or whatever pulsing emotion that runs course throughout his body.

He turns back to you, eyes glossy and a pout on his lips as he raises a long string of black silk. “I cannot tie it” his voice breaks slightly and you can’t help but smile at his cuteness. You take the silk from his hand and wrap it against his neck, slowly weaving it in and out of itself, you form a knot. “Learn this from a book?” he teases and you can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes. Falling back to where you were with Jisung was never hard, falling in love with him all over again was never hard. “my father taught me” you say as you pull the silk slightly causing his head to jolt forward. A smile perks at his lips as he lets out air from his nose as a form of laughter and you don't realise the lack of space between you two until you feel it brush against your skin and you near closer, eyes drawn to his lips. Your breathing stops and your heart sporadically jumps around in your chest, beating louder than ever.

Jisung’s eyes are closed as he waits for your lips to be placed upon his but they never come and his eyes jump open at the sound of Jaemin’s voice, your warmth escaping him. So close and yet so far, his eyes land on you who’s now moved as far as possible from him. “Y/N, do you know how to tie a tie?” he walks in looking down at the balck silk he holds around his neck but he cuts himself off as his eyes rise to find you and Jisung awkwardly sitting beside each other. “Oh am I interrupting?” he asks in a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow and you shoot up onto your feet, making your way towards him “No not at all” you wave your arms as if it would convince Jaemin. You grab onto both ends of the silk strand, repeating the same movements as earlier and looking down at the silk you can practically feel Jaemin’s smile that beams from above. You weave the string in and out of itself and pull tight around his neck causing Jaemin’s head to pull back “OW '' he huffs out in a pout, you pat down his tie and with a smile as gleaming as his was a mere moments ago, you apologise. 

“Oh y/n you know how to tie a tie, thank god” Jeno rushes in with his father soon after him both holding the same black silk around their neck “Does nobody in this house know how to tie a tie” you laugh in disbelief. “Our mother used to do them,” Jeno whispers as your hands make their way up to form the same knot you’ve made twice already. He thanks you silently with a sweet smile, those crescent moons you adore showing up.You move on to their father, tying his tie neatly and much more carefully than the rest. “Thank you for everything, y/n” he bows his head to you and you whisper “It’s nothing” shyly. “It’s been a pleasure having you become a part of our family” he continues and his words are like a stake to your heart, the same aching reappearing as nothing fails to remind you of your departure.

“Thank you for welcoming me bu-t'' you're cut off instantly 

“no buts y/n, you are family” Jeno interrupts and if it was anyone else you don’t think those words would have held such meaning for Jeno is a silent lover, showing his affection through sweet smiles, concerned looks and kind gestures; he was never one for words of affirmation. So you smile, ignoring the tears that prick at your eyes, ignoring the deep breaths that leave Jisung and the solemn sadness on Jaemin’s face.

“We need to go” Jaemin looks down at his pocket watch, as always sensing the tension in the room and ready to dissipate it, he urges everyone out the door and as you’re about to step out, a warmth engulfs you as Jisung catches your hand in his. Turning back you are met with a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes that hold a sense of sadness as they glimmer in the setting sun.

Hours after the sun had sunk into the horizon, the moon well into its reign, music rang through the center of town as everyone gathered to celebrate the new chapter of Jeno’s life. A ceremony so beautiful, you were sure you witnessed true love when Jeno’s eyes set on his bride that walked the altar.

After all the tears, it was finally time for the bubbling of champagne to intoxicate your bloodstream and to allow the music to take control of every swayed movement of your body. Standing under the yellow dimmed lights, Jisung glew a gold you didn’t know existed but easily was the prettiest you had ever seen. His cheekbones high and lips painted pink, golden flute in hand and silk tie loosened you could easily say he was the prettiest here, outshining all. For Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty lived through him, simple acts such as greeting guests left you stunned. Eyes chasing every movement of his, from the way his hands moved as he spoke, to the way he smiled once seeing an old friend, the way he laughed softly in conversation and when his eyes travelled back to you when he thought you weren't looking.

And to pull you out of that trance was none other than Jaemin, “Would you and Jisung stop exchanging lover eyes and dance already” he whispers as he places himself beside you, you scoff at his words and slightly nudge him with your elbow.

“Are you so bored that your eyes follow mine?” you question and his simple and instant “Yes” make your eyes roll as far as possible but you can’t help but smile. “When will you find your own love story? This is one hopeless”

“So when were you planning to tell me you were leaving after tonight” his words don’t come as a surprise, nothing goes past Jaemin but it still doesn’t fail to make your every movement halt as guilt overtakes you, turning to him you begin to explain “I was going to tell you as soon as the night was over, it was unexpected I promise” you say softly.

“I don’t suppose i can change your mind in any way?” he asks hopefully, still with the knowledge he wouldn’t be able to. You shake your head slowly, unable to say the words that will so obviously ruin the both of you but Jaemin is never one to sit in sadness, always being his priority to make you feel better. 

“Would you allow me this first dance?” he bows down asking for your hand and with that you place yours in his, placing a soft kiss to the knuckles he pulls you into the center of the floor. Legs moving to the beat, Jaemin’s hand on your waist he guides you through the waltz, breaths heaving and smiles plastered on your face he bends down once more to place a kiss on your knuckles as the music dies down declaring the end of the dance, a sad smile spreads across his face and he whispers “Goodbye” against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes who hold nothing but despair. Yet the hardest is to come when you turn and automatically your eyes find Jisungs, who just happened to be looking your way.

You offer him a smile before heading towards him “And why are you not dancing, I’m sure plenty of girls are just about dying to be your first dance” you tease him and he laughs along with you, hands rising they scratch the back of his neck as he prepares to confess to you “I actually do not know how to dance” he spits out fast hoping you don't catch his words but you do. Eyes widening and mouth agape, you let out a gasp 

“Jisung you do not know how to-” you're cut off by his hand on your mouth as he looks around to see if anyone has heard the sentence about to leave you. 

“Quietly, I think the whole of London can hear you” he says in a whisper still looking around. Removing his hand, you roll your eyes at his antics.

“Let me teach you” you whisper back and he turns to you, eyebrow raised as he assesses how good of a dancer you could be.

“I am not entirely sure, who did you learn from? A book?” he teases, still completely in character until you shove him and his laughter comes spilling out “You used the joke once already” you roll your eyes 

“I was taught by trainers actually, do you forget I was to be wed” you scoff at his assumption and rise to your feet, hand extended for Jisung to take. He stares at you, watches the way the light bounces off your skin causing you to glow, your eyes glimmer, smile bright and the confidence and charm you carry in inexplicably attractive as you stand under the moon, offering to be Jisung’s first dance and it’s here he decides you’ll be his last.

The moment his hand is in yours, you drag him straight to the crowd, the music is quick to start and you waste no time in giving out instructions. “Place your hand on my waist” you order

“Your what?” Jisung’s eyes are wide as he cluelessly asks

“My waist” you repeat again, emphasizing each word and you drag his hand up and place it on your waist for yourself. Then putting your own hand on his shoulder, you pull him a little closer. “Just follow my lead” you reassure him as you witness the petrified look on his face.

“Left foot forward” you say to him as you move yours back, “Right foot forward, feet together” you continue to guide him through the dance as you spin around the room, ‘Now left foot back, right foot back, now feet together” you repeat the sequined dance around the room, music thumping through your body and you convince yourself it’s that you feel and not the heavy beats of your heart as the space between you and Jisung seems to close more and more. As he leans in so close you can feel the air that leaves him, fanning over you. You look up and his eyes are set on you, only adoration is held in them and Jisung thinks it’s now or never as he tries to fully close the gap between you two, to place his lips on yours but then you let go, head turning to the right “Now we switch you” you say as you land into another man's arms, repeating the same steps you did with Jisung moments ago with another. So close and yet so far is all Jisung can think whilst his eyes watch you twirl about the room.

Once finally back in his arms, the music seizes and he’s forced to remove himself from you. You can’t help but smile at him as he looks down at you, breathing heavily with a flush of pink to his cheeks yet he seems to be gleaming in the buzzing sensation of a waltz. The air is heavy with sweat and alcohol, the room is filled with chatter and loud laughs but that all falls away once you look at Jisung. So you dance to every song as if you were the only two people to exist, for this was your last night and this was your last dance.

Endless glasses of champagne later your dancing feet carry you outside, the cool summer nights air washes over you, clearing your mind of the foggy mist of alcohol yet the coolness of the moonlight is overwhelmed by the warmth of Jisung’s presence as he stumbles next to you, tripping over his own legs he lands in your arms. “I think you drank a little too much” you laugh down at him.

“No I am perfectly fine” He quickly stabilizes himself, straightening out his clothes and you can only smile as he shakes off your support. “If you say so” you turn to the night sky, looking up to the moon who you haven't had the courage to face since. The wind rushing past you, crickets croaking and the stars blazing across the sky, your legs about to give way as the alcohol circulates your body, you find purchase on a stone bridge, Jisung following soon after you. The water trickles down under you, the calming sound washes over you and the solace you so missed seems to make an appearance once again as you allow yourself to surrender to Jisung’s presence. Silence sits between the two of you but it’s not the one you wish to fill, insead you choose to let it engulf you not wanting words to taint this moment. Your last moment.

Jisung however doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore, the liquid courage is just about enough for him to declare his roaring love for you, a flame that won’t go out no matter how far he pushes the idea of you away. He wasn’t sure if this was love but the ache in his chest all these days proved it could be nothing but love. The longing to be by your side as you found happiness, found your own way into this world and to watch you become who you want, is unbearably strong. This is his only chance before the goddess of the moon takes you away with her, for when the sun rises, you'll set into nothing but a memory. So here Jisung turns to you, staring at your beautifully carved features, moonlight highlighting every perfection; deep breaths he calms his nerves. Adrenaline rushing through every nerve, he finally builds the courage and out the words he never knew would feel so good to pronounce “Y/N I love you” it comes out in a whisper but by the way your eyes widen, breathing halts, Jisung knows you’ve heard.

“Jisung you are drunk” you laugh off

“Drunk lies are sober truths” he says in all seriousness, his eyes are begging for yours to turn to him and so you give in to their silent cry. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, for I thought soulmates were nothing but a fairytale until mine spoke to me upon laying eyes on you. I denied my feelings towards you, for I didn’t know if it was love I felt for you or not but I do. Love, adoration, affection and warmth. The moon only looks beautiful with you under it, the sun only shines with you beside me.” he professes and the sincerity in his voice strucks you, for every fiber of your being longs for these exact words but can you believe him?

He inches closer, his scent and warmth trapping you in a trance and you can’t find it in yourself to back away as he moves towards your lips, his breath mixing with your own, the flush off his cheeks that are illuminated by the moonlight. Everything is perfect except he’s drunk. Though your heart screams for you to close the gap, place your lips on his and kiss him until he’s breathless, your head scream the opposite, move back, wait till the morning when his head is in the right place, don’t allow him to make a mistake that’ll hurt you and when were you ever one to not listen to your mind. “You are drunk”  you whisper to him, so close he can almost feel your lips move against his, flinching back, ignoring the cry of your heart that desires nothing more than to feel Jisung’s confession. Jisung’s eyes open to find you pulled away, for once again he was so close yet so far.

“We should return” you jump up, step fastening back to the crowds of people who were still dancing and laughing. Jisung’s hurried footsteps rush beside you, his hand holding onto your wrist, he pulls you into him. Arms wrapping around you so tight, he’s afraid you’ll pull away and that he’ll lose you. You already pulled away from him once, you’re not sure you have the power in you to do it a second; so you let him hold you. His face hidden into the crook of your neck, he speaks into your skin 

“Love for you fades the exhausting hours till Kingdom come, for even then my soul only speaks of you, my heart only beats for you. Let me love and let me give, for both are infinite” he confesses once again.

Your arms instantly wrap around his figure, you allow your love to course through your body to his, you hope he can feel your heartbeat, the steady pace that keeps you alive for his existence, and him only. For without him what was the purpose of living? You stand there under the moonlight, red strings wrapped around you, Eros’s arrow shot through you, and hold onto each other.

Walking back, hand in hand, smiling like fools. The air smells sweeter, the world seems brighter as your heart skips a beat every now and then “In all honesty” Jisung breaks the blissful silence, his voice deep and smooth and it sends shivers down and through you just as it did the first day. Once your eyes are on him, giving him your undivided attention he continues “I lacked the courage to gift you Sonnet 23 but I wanted to” he tells you “Promise” he makes sure you believe his words and you can’t help but smile.

“You still lack courage, this is the alcohol’s courage” you tease him, swinging your arms back and forth as you walk on. He giggles at your comment because he knows it’s true, if it wasn’t for the liquid courage he doesn’t think he would have been able to confess to you but he’s glad he has because if he hadn’t, would he ever get the chance to?

“So will you stay?” he asks, voice hopeful and eyes pleading as he pouts, in hope it would convince you but you didn’t need anymore convincing, for if you want to follow happiness and happiness just so happens to follow Jisung, who were you to seek for more elsewhere. “Perhaps” a smirk makes it way up your lips as you give him vague answers. “I will take that as a yes” he laughs out, holding onto your hand a little bit tighter, to ensure you really weren’t going anywhere.

Love is a complex feeling, one that causes an unbearable amount of pain; as if your chest had been slit open, heart pulled out and crushed. An aching pain resonates throughout your whole body, endless tears and you don’t think you can live to see another sunrise yet it’s euphoric in every way. From the tingling sensation at just the sight of your love, the shivers, the heat that takes over, the trance you left in as their words hypnotise you, the warmth of their presence and sweet scent. In Jisung you found peace,solace,serenity and love.

“Jaemin” Jisung calls out as he can just about make him out in the distance “Y/N said she has decided to stay” he shouts out like a child, excited he’s jumping up and down and you find yourself smiling and laughing again, for with Jisung it’s the only thing you seem to be able to do. Yet as you draw closer to Jaemin and the guests he happens to be wishing a farewell too, your smile and heart both drop.

“Y/N” one of the two men calls out as your figure becomes more apparent to them, disbelief held in their voice as they call out to you. Jisung and Jaemin eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes widening as they wonder how you are acquainted.

“How do you know our y/n?” Jaemin asks, always being the first one to dissolve the awkward silences, the men are taken aback clearly by the way their jaws hang slightly.

“She is our sister” the taller stutters out, your blood rushes cold as the words leave his lips, what would happen now? Would they allow you to just roam free? You thought for a second before you mentally scolded yourself, they would never allow that. They will force you back. “I am not returning” you spit out, not beating around the bush, you get straight to the point.

“But you must, mother is left worried" he tries to grab onto your wrist but you move back not allowing him to get a hold on you.

"Worried for me? Or that the season is almost finished?" You question him and guilt is evident in his eyes as your question takes him aback.

"Don't be silly" your younger brother tries to calm you, "we just want you home" he tries to convince you.

"I am perfectly fine on my own" you stand your ground even though you see the frustration in your older brother, creep closer and closer to the surface "I have no intention of returning" you continue to press forward.

"Do you not feel shame, what would father have to say?" He dares ask. Shame? The word linger in your head for you to wonder if your brother truly knows the definition of the word or were all those years at Oxford a waste. For how had this brought shame upon you or your father, how does a want for purpose,happiness and freedom lead to shame?

"For if father was alive, this problem wouldn't have occurred. He would have listened" you hissed, jaw tight as you teeth clenched and the words slipped out through the small cracks.

"How naive of you to think'' he laughs and finally latches onto your wrist, holding tightly he's prepared to drag you to the carriage until another holds you back. Jisung’s hand holds onto your arm, pulling you back, looking back you don’t think you have never seen such fierce eyes. A red you never thought you’d see engulf Jisung, he’s not prepared to let you go. "Let go" your brother's voice is stern as he clenches his jaw yet Jisung doesn't budge.

"Jisung this isn't our place" Jaemin whispers, defeat in his voice and he is right. What say do they have in this? If you don’t even have a choice, who are they to decide but then again you are certain a man’s opinion will most definitely be heard by your brother over your own anyday. “Let go of her,” Jisung threatened.

Your brother couldn’t help but scoff at his words “She belongs to me, I am her blood and she holds mine and my father’s name” his grip tightening around your wrist as he pulls you towards him once more, your eyebrows furrow and you wince in slight pain, Jaemin instinctively flinches forward before stopping himself, getting involved will just make it worse he reminds himself. You smile at him weakly in hopes it can put him at ease but as both your arms are being held hostage, both cuffs tightening as the seconds go by not one daring to back down.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone” Jisung spits back “She is free to do as she pleases and she chooses to stay here” he continuously argues in hope of changing his mind , yet what can he possibly do? Now that they have found you, what is left for you to do? They will not let you live on how you wish, they will not leave without you and even if they didn’t take you tonight, they will come back for you. It’ll only cause chaos, you will again become a burden on someone else. “You do not own her” he repeats.

The words you so despise form on your tongue and as you open your mouth to say them, Jisung’s eye beg you not to. He knows what's to come and even as every ounce of your being screams and cries as the words are spoken, you let them leave you regardless. “Let go Jisung” voice weak, shaking.

“But you said you would stay” his voice shaky, encased in sadness, his grip weakens but his hold stays, unable to let you go once he’s finally got you but you were always a dream to him, one that never seemed quite real and though you mixed with reality, almost coming true, he was but a fool to believe you could be his.

“I said maybe” your voice quiet, breaking a promise you didn’t make, breaking his heart and breaking yours that was just put back together.

“She said for you to let go” Your brother interrupts, a smirk on his face that Jaemin has a dying need to punch off but he retains himself. Jisung lets go of you hesitantly, his hand still lingering onto the skin of your forearm and you take in his touch one last time. He watches you leave, tears falling from his eyes for you were so close yet so far.

The tears from that night, months ago, have yet still to dry for every living and breathing moment is lived in agony, longing turning into nothing but numbness as it engulfed your being and became you. Days and nights merged, smiles are a forgotten act for it felt awkward even attempting. The large manor is silent, it perfectly resembles the void in your chest. You live as a ghost, sleepless nights and empty days your mind always occupied with the thought of Jisung.

His eyes that held the universe, his warmth the sun envied, his smile were solace was found, his laughter that was contagious, voice that was soothing, beauty unmatched, the gods were both proud and envious of their greatest creation. The years went by and yet the image of his is as clear as ever, preserved in your memories, you live on in your dreams that can’t escape reality. So close and yet so far from each other.

You sit in the empty rooms, walls bare for the art never compared to Jisung’s beauty, you never found art that could express the definition of art as well as Jisung did. Each time looking at Jisung you found a new feature to adore, hidden beauties that appeared when the moonlight hit his skin, features highlighted by the golden rays of the sun. No art seemed to do that, no art seemed worthy of showcasing.

Your library remains empty, clearing it out of all books, you couldn't bear to look at one again. For everyone of them taunted you with the memory of him. The way he used to sit in the center of the room, arms sprawled out on the desk, his head so close to the paper as he would write. Your eyes would follow every one of his movements, so distracted you would forget about the heavy book in your hand. Yet now with a book in hand, your eyes search for distraction. Yearning to find him, to make the pink blush, that you so missed, appear as he couldn't take your stare any longer. The adrenaline of when his eyes suddenly come up to meet yours, the scrambling of his when you catched his stare. You missed it all.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day” the performer begins, as you sit around the large table for dinner. Your every movement halts as the words leave his mouth, your mind runs back to the lavender fields, into the small room at the back of the house, finding the scarlet red book. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate” he continues on but no you are not temperate. Your heart aches, your eyes sting and a wave of nausea over takes you. Your fist smash into the table, legs standing up, you push the heavy velvet chair back

“Stop!” you shout, voice hoarse and broken, you can’t help the tears that roll down your cheek. You can’t help the way your whole body shakes upon hearing those words, you can’t help but miss him. The whole room stares at you, a heavy silence settles, the only sounds are your whimpers as you sob in your palms, falling to your knees. Their eyes lingered, terrified. No one dared to speak to you first, let alone the events of the night. Afraid they would cause you to break down once more but they failed to see it was they, who stole happiness away from you, stole freedom and ripped your heart out of your chest. You wandered aimlessly through the many halls, staring out of windows you wanted the sun rise and fall, watched the goddess of the moon shine down on the earth yet neither held the beauty they did when Jisung was by your side.

Summer has come to find you once again, those who say time heals have never been broken. Time doesn’t heal. Time forgets, the world may move on but you do not, you cannot share the same ecstasy the birds sing, the happiness in summer flowers, For now you hate flowers, you hate how their beauty and meaning are only reminders of your longing.

“How about lavenders for the drawing room ma’am, I’m told they are your favourite” the maid asks, her mission to make you smile, to rid you of the constant tear stained cheeks; nothing but a failure is awaiting her. Just the mere thought of lavenders causes your skin to crawl, for nothing symbolises him more than the vibrant violet. Yet you turn to her, a weak smile and you nod because maybe the scent will help ease your heart and just maybe you’ll find serenity in them once more.

Though days were long, summer left in a hurry for now autumn was here once more. The leaves had already begun to brown and the vase filled with lavenders, which sat upon the grand piano, had wilted now - their scent and comfort decaying with them.

And soon followed the day, the world knew would soon be coming, had arrived upon us, September 1st 1939:

“we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.” you read Winston Churchill’s words in the papers, war has arrived. The heavy ring sits on your finger as you stare out the window reminiscing the day you were watching the carriage be prepared and though it is your two brothers and the Earl’s son leaving you can’t help but let your mind imagine Jeno,Jaemin and Jisung, For the war will take them further away from you, to barren land filled with death, guns pointed at them, bombs dropping at anytime. Though the war has imprisoned many,taken from others, you thank it’s timing for it has liberated you momentarily. The Earl’s son waved goodbye to you and though you raise your hand to send him off to a war you’re not sure he’ll return from, you have no intention of calling him your fiance whilst he is gone and if he returns you have no intention of calling him your husband. You pity him in that memory.

“Ma’am” a voice calls out to you, you don’t recognise who it is for every voice sounds the same but regardless it pulls you back to the world of the present for the war was already well into its sixth year. Though your body is here, your heart and soul never left Jisung for he had stolen that long ago. You turn to find a small envelope, blue like the ones that found you happiness. “To y/n'' the handwriting is familiar but to you all letters were painted the way Jisung’s hand did, for your eyes can simply not forget but it is what the letter contained that brought a soul into your lifeless shell.

As an unperfect actor on the stage

Who with his fear is put beside his part,

Sonnet 23 with annotations is what your eyes fall upon, the second line underlined it reads: “With great courage I put aside this fear to confess to you such words that I cannot express on my own.” Your hand runs over the lines, the smell of gunpowder but there is a scent that you so long for. The scent of lavender still lingers onto the parchment which ripples under your clutch. .

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;

The next lines highlighted “For this feeling was just as strong as rage yet it was where I found peace, my heart weakened at the sight of you and from that moment onwards it belonged to you.” A smile naturally took over you, the flutter in your chest an ecstatic feeling you forgot.

So I for fear of trust forget to say

The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,

And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,

O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.

O, let my books be then the eloquence

And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,

Who plead for love and look for recompense

More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.

O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.

To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

“Know that I cannot express the words my soul speaks, for we are worlds apart so allow the empty words of the English language, attempt to convey my love. Look not at my words only but at the way the fool I make in your presence for my mind is clouded with you, heart beats for you and soul yearns for you. For you are my sonnet 18 as a friend and sonnet 23 as a lover.” Tears fall unnoticed, for you hear his voice so clear in your head, for six years you waited for a single word from him and here he has gifted you a sonnet between lovers, so how could you possibly love someone else.

“Yours forever Jisung, the boy who waits in the lavender field”. You sob as you read those words, a fresh new wave of tears staining the parchment as the longing to be in his warmth and comfort is washed upon you as if it were that day you were forced away from him. Opening a wound that never could fully heal.

Waiting is a virtue of love, it proves your love, for it feels equivalent to death and yet you still wait but there is a point in time where you can wait no longer, where you must stop waiting and strive for love now. At this exact moment, it is time. For you are ready to give up the world to run to Jisung, to find the beauty in the moon once more, to find solace in the sweet smell of lavenders once more, to find the warmth of the sun once more, to find happiness once more. For happiness was the only reason worth living.

You're not sure how long you’ve been running, legs moving on their own, you don’t look back you’ve learnt never to look back, never return. As the metallic taste at the back of your throat rises, oxygen running thin and your legs almost collapse from exhaustion. It’s as if you jumped out of the past, gown torn at the train station, you’re left in rags but it’s different this time. For before you ran to find your happiness and now you run to where happiness lies. In a field of lavenders.

Every fiber of your being pulses with the need to see him, hear him, touch him. To feel his warmth once more, to have his voice send serenity through you, to see his eyes again and to smell the sweet scent that lingers around him. You’re not sure what souls are made of but whatever it is yours and his are the same. For your heart yearns for him, desperate, it aches every living second of everyday without him. For a life without love, is a life unlived.

The rows and rows of purple are in sight and there in the middle of it all stands him, waiting. Jisung doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, he can tell by your footsteps, your breath, your scent and the sudden ease he feels. You are there. Yet he does anyways for the memory of you has haunted him for the past 6 years, on the battlefield, in the barracks, he would only see you, only hear you but he couldn’t touch you; for you were merely a dream mixing with reality.

But here you are standing in front of him, Your expensive dress torn up, now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing. He smiles as nostalgia washes over him, was this real or were you just a fragmented memory. Was he simply remembering happier times, a time where you were in his grasp. “Jisung” you call out, voice soft and unsure, a hand reaching out for his own, to make sure what you saw in front of you wasn’t a hallucination, a cruel trick your mind played on you. Slowly a warmth overtook your hand, sparks sent through your skin and into your bloodstream and the beating of your heart returned. Tears formed but never fell because one of you needs to be strong, Jisung sobbed as he fell into your embrace, gripping onto you. “Never leave again” he chokes out, breathing heavy and uneven. “Promise me” he whispers into your hair.

Pulling him back to face you, his eyes are red and puffy yet they burn with passion, his cheeks stained with tears but the pink dust is always still there, you smile at him closing the gap and finally placing your lips on his. The taste of salty tears invade your mouth and your lips move against his and he kisses you back, placing his hand on your cheek he pulls you closer, thumb brushing over the top of your cheekbone. Your knees weaken and you grip at his shirt, desperately clinging to him as your knuckles turn white, as he kisses you with passion overflowing with each soft movement, sincere and full of the love he can't express through words. The scent of lavender is overwhelming and intoxicating, you press yourself against him. Your lungs burn as he kisses you breathless, sparks flying into your bloodstream and unbearable heat takes over whilst your lips move as one. Pulling away, chests heaving as you pull in as you regain all the oxygen you exchange, Jisung places his forehead on yours, his cheeks pink and in between breaths you whisper against his lips “I promise” and again he pulls you in, lips crashing on yours.

This is your first love, it may not be your last but it will be the one you remember most, for it taught you how to love, it taught you the struggles of love and it taught you to feel loved. In search of fulfillment and meaning, you weren't looking for love but it found you and soon after fulfillment and meaning came in the form of a boy in a lavender field.

© (jisungiest) 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[cowboyhorsegirl]

3, 9, 22, 38, 40? 👀

ahhh thank you sm for the ask <3

3. name three favorite writers

in general, I'd say madeleine l'engle, sally rooney, and brit bennett

for stevetony fic in particular, i literally cannot choose just three so i'll just rapid-fire some of my faves with full acknowledgement that i'm still missing people bc there's literally such a depth of talent and creativity in this fandom it would be impossible to list them all!!: @sineala @festiveferret @sirsapling @kandisheek-art @kiyaar @silkspectred @isozyme

9. do you set yourself deadlines?

Not even a little bit! I'll publish when i publish xoxo <3

22. favorite story you’ve ever written

undoubtedly hands down 100% Paradise Blue in 1872 and it's not even close (though I do love all my other fic too!).

Even though it's only about 500 words it took me like 3 days to write it, which i think is maybe the longest i've spent on any published fic yet (and i know relatively that is Not Long but still fjkdalsfl). Every word and reference and metaphor was so meticulously chosen, it was hard while i was doing it but it's extremely satisfying to see that deliberateness pay off. <3

I don't know, I kind of still can't believe I wrote it, because it feels like it was created by someone who is much better at writing than me lmfao. I'm just insanely proud of Paradise, one of my absolute favorite things is hearing how other people engaged with it because sometimes people will comment a brand new perspective or insight that i didn't even realize! Which is an insanely incredible interaction to have for sure :)

Honorary special mention also goes out to Lie de The (Memory Serves Me) because i quite love that one a lot too and i'm really proud of the poetic rhythm of that fic <3

38. do you reread your own stories?

if my previous answer did not tip you off, yes i love rereading all my own stories :D they are good and i hear the author is brilliant and also People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive

40. which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series

honestly, i think i'd most like to see Ralph Waldo Emerson Twilight adapted into a longer fic. as i was writing it, i had some ideas for a more thorough story with that same concept of post-EG Steve and Morgan becoming really close and starting to explore the things Tony left behind together as they piece together more information about his life. It's easy to imagine that this would be a mutual endeavor for them as Morgan tries to learn more about the caring and devoted father she remembers from her early childhood as opposed to the larger-than-life man who's memorialized across the world and who she's reminded of by everyone who meets her and Steve desperately tries to gain a little insight into what Tony's life was like during the 7 near-continuous years they were apart from each other. Was he happy, was he happy despite or because of the absence of the Avengers, what were his thoughts on Bucky and did he know how sorry Steve felt? Smaller things too, like how did he spend his days, would he go swimming in the lake, did he ever get antsy in this new domestic life or is this what he'd wanted but never known to desire all along? All the things he would've wanted to ask the man in person if he'd had more time, more courage. But he gets these faint echoes now, with the daughter Tony had loved and lived and died for, and even though it will never be near enough of what Steve wants, it's more than what he feels he deserves.

of course, this would mean actually writing all of that down and not to let anyone's hopes down but i wouldn't hold your breath on this one lol (though if anyone ever has written a similar story to this one please lmk!!!)

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Alone Together

Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.

Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader

Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————————————

Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.

Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.

When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.

You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.

The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.

It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.

Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.

So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.

You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.

Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.

Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.

“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.

He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.

Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.

You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.

Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.

“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.

He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.

“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”

“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”

He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”

His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”

You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”

He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.

Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.

Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.

“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.

“Well, a little sore, but good.”

You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”

He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.

That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.

Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.

Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.

Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.

You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”

“We just finished actually.” You laughed.

“How’d it come out?”

“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”

You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.

“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.

“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”

“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”

He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”

You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“

“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.

“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”

“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”

“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.

After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.

You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.

You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”

“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.

He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”

The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.

You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.

“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.

“No I’m okay,” he replied.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.

He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”

Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.

“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”

Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.

He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”

“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”

“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”

“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.

“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”

“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”

You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.

Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.

You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.

Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.

“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.

“Is Steve with you?”

“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. Text me before bed.”

“Okay.”

Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”

“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.

He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“

“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.

Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.

God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.

He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.

Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.

Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.

You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.

Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.

He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.

“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”

You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.

That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”

You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.

As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”

“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.

“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”

He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”

He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”

“Strawberry.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.

You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much!” You cried.

“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”

He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.

You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”

“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.

“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.

“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.

He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.

“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.

You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.

You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.

He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.

It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”

“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.

You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.

You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.

Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”

You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”

“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[goldandbluesmiles]

In Shades

Summary: Damian paints his family.

Ao3:

Part of batfam flufftober2020

Damian had an art assignment. Paint a portrait of one person in your life and use only one colour and explain why you chose that one colour.

It was an interesting assignment and Damian could not choose just one person to paint. So, he painted everyone in his immediate family. He figured he could hand in the best one.

He asked Alfred to sit down first.

For Alfred, he chose the colour grey. Dull and able to blend in, a symbol of dignity and sophistication as much as it was a symbol of loss.

Alfred had taken care of them through their losses and their fears, through their triumphs and their victories. He had stood by them as they had fought each other and had stood by them as they had held each other. Always there always reliable.

Yes, grey it was for Alfred.

"I am honoured, Master Damian," said Alfred once he showed it to him. It was the only thing he said but it still made Damian feel warm.

The second person he sat down with was his father.

For his father, he chose the colour black. It seemed a bit cliche but it fit the man. Black stood for strength and mystery, for formality and elegance, but at the same time stood for aggression and authority, for death and darkness.

This one might not end up with the rest of his assignment for it would be hard to explain to a civilian how all these characteristics could fit the airhead billionaire Brucie Wayne. But Damian could not bring himself to draw his father in false colours. He would just have to hide this one away.

Once he was done with the portrait, he looked at the harsh lines and smiled. Yes, black definitely worked.

His father must have agreed with his observations because one look at the piece and he had laughed.

"Well, you certainly got me, Kiddo. But maybe not take this to school. Though, I would like to hang it in my study instead. Would that be alright with you?"

"Yes, Father," Damian had agreed.

Father had them given him a long and tight hug, softly whispering how proud he was.

It almost made Damian cry. Almost.

Dick sat down for next, a wide smile on his face.

Damian chose to paint his brother in bright greens. Green was the colour of growth, harmony and renewal. His brother had moved non from tragedy after tragedy and always found a way to make his world right again, not only for himself but for others too. The freshness of the colour captured the man's smile in full and made him seem wiser than his years, which in Damian's opinion was exactly what his brother was.

Damian knew this one would be his favourite.

When he showed Dick, he was gushed at his talent but had been confused about the colour choice. Unlike most of their other family, Dick had never had an interest in the visual arts, opting to express himself physically as Cassandra did.

Once he explained, Dick had gotten tears in his eyes. Damian had almost become alarmed but his brother had swooped him up in a hug and held him close, much as his father had.

"Thank you, Damian,"

"You're welcome, Richard," said Damian, though he did not know what the thank you was for.

Cassandra did not sit but chose to stand instead. Damian was quite alright with that.

He painted his sister in shades of purple. Purple was the colour of royals, elegance of a certain kind, and ambition. Violet was the colour of magic and dreams.

Cassandra smiled all the way through painting, holding her pose together. This painting took the longest as Damian knew that it would e important to paint her whole body instead of just painting her face.

Once he was done, Cassandra hugged him before she even saw the painting and then hugged him again after she was it.

"Good," she whispered, "You got me,"

"I'm glad you think so," he whispered back

After Cassandra came Jason. And the only reason he had agreed was that he was stuck on bed rest.

Damian drew him in shades of red, head bent over a book. Red was the colour of anger, danger and sacrifice. It was also the colour of love and passion, the colour of a fire that burned bright and a heart that beat for others. Jason was all that and more. He rose from the ashes like a phoenix and had devoted his life to his family and city. Sacrifice after sacrifice, all in the name of love for people he thought didn't even love him. He was wrong about that of course.

"The angry brother in red, huh?" said Jason once he saw it, voice showing just a fraction of the bitterness he was feeling.

Damina instantly refuted, "No, the passionate brother, and the loving one,"

Jason looked at him in surprise.

Damian continued, "You are too sacrificing for your own good, you are passionate about what you do and you love so much that overflows out in bursts,"

For a few moments, Jason watched him with his mouth open, and then ever so slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"You know," he murmured, "I think red could be your colour too,"

"Really?"

"Really,"

Tim was surprised at being asked, and really that made Damian feel just a little guilty. He was almost an adult now and quite ashamed about how he had acted all those years ago.

For Timothy, Damian chose blues. Blue represented the open sky and ocean, depth and stability. It stood for loyalty, faith, truth and confidence.

Over the years, Damian had watched his brother grow into his abilities and become sure of himself. He was a leader, a detective and a man loyal to his cause and family. Damian was proud to have him in his life, to call him family. Even if he never admitted it out loud.

He explained the meaning of the picture in a few words, the whole interaction being awkward in a nice way, both of them feeling a bit shy about it.

"Thanks, Dames," said Tim

Damian just shrugged in response.

It was enough.

Duke was the last sibling he asked to sit down.

He chose to present Duke in pink. Pink was intuitive, pink was tender, pink was kind. It was a positive colour that inspired warmth and appreciation. All of the things he felt for the second oldest in the family. Duke had a soft way about him that drew people out of their shell. He was a leader but not an authoritative one like Father or even Timothy. Instead, his leadership consisted of inspiring and lifting others.

"Pink? Isn't that a girl's colour,"

"While you are right that pink represents feminity in today's society, it is a more recent development, I chose to focus on other meanings of the colour,"

"Yeah? And those are?" Duke asked disbelievingly, but not unkindly

Once Damian was done explaining, Duke grinned and held out a fist for him to bump. Damian complied.

"Thanks, man," said Duke, bounding out of the room as if someone had filled him with unlimited energy.

Damian watched him go with a shake of his head.

Damian contemplated whether or not he should do anyone else, and in the end, asked Stephanie to sit for him too.

He painted Stephanie orange. The colour represented friendliness and enthusiasm, competitiveness and risk. It stood for raw instinct and free spirit, lead to the person feeling warm and at home. The colour of the autumn.

Stephanie was a friendly spirit and was somehow always present. She pushed forward when knocked down and fought to make her home. Her success came from her enthusiasm and competitiveness and her willingness to risk it all.

Stephanie gave him a grin and a big kiss on the cheek when he explained the colour.

"Ew, Brown! Stop!"

"Uhuh," she cried, "Yuu love meee! Now I knooow!"

"Oh god, you are such a child,"

The last person that sat for him was Barbara Gordon.

Damian chose to paint her in browns. Brown was the colour of reliability and support, of protection and security. It stood for everything genuine, honest and sincere. It was what came to mind when he thought of Barbara. The way she was always there, a voice in everyone's ear. The way she always spoke the truth, light and clear. She was a friend, she was dependable, someone that could be trusted and relied on unconditionally.

Oddly enough, like Alfred and Father, Barbara did not need an explanation for the colour. She merely smiled and nodded.

"You have a great eye," she told him, "I really love this. Thank you, Damian,"

"No, thank you, Barbara,"

xxx

After a long night of patrol, Damian was ready to fall into bed. However, before he could do that, he realized there was an envelope sitting on his pillow. He took it out and smiled.

There was a picture of him petting his animals, most likely taken by Timothy, and it was tinted yellow. Beneath it, were words written out in yellow glitter pen.

Sunshine. Happiness. Fun. Hope. Mind. Perception. Optimism. Creativity. Freshness. positivity.

Underneath was a paragraph written in his father's neat cursive writing, though he could tell the input had probably come from a few different sources.

'Yellow represents the heat of the sun and the loveliness of a smile, it evoked hope for the future and is linked with the optimistic. Yellow showed creativity, freshness and positivity. Damian, you are almost an adult now and have grown into someone who had learned to channel your creative side, look towards the future and smile, even if it is internally. You have a beautiful mind and your artistic perception of the world takes our breath away. Always stay you, Damian,. You are bright and wonderful,'

Wiping the happy tears that were making their way down his cheeks, Damian quickly took out his phone. He pulled up the group chat and wrote a short message, knowing it would get the sentiment across.

'Thank you. I will do my best,'

[t0wnspersonb]

Another Life (Uchiha Itachi x Reader)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SMUT, angst, death, spoilers if you haven’t finished Naruto, my shit writing

Summary: You knew the truth of what Itachi had gone through when he had murdered the entire clan, which is why you stuck by his side throughout the years. You loved him, would always love him, despite the pain that he had put you through, continued to put you through. But nothing could have prepared you for this moment of complete heartbreak. 

~~~~

Yoooooo, here is the Itachi fic I said I wanted to write lol. I apologize if it’s shit or if it seems inaccurate, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve watched Naruto. I’m not sure if you guys still watch Naruto or if you still simp after this fine specimen of a man but here you go. The smut part is super short, so I apologize if you were expecting more lol. 

Anyway, let me know what you guys think! I hope you have a fantastic week! 

~~~~

If there were any regrets in his life, it would be you. It wasn’t that he regretted having you in his life - if anything he was grateful for it - but when it came to you, when it came to the life that you could have lived, well, he regretted not letting you go. 

 It wasn’t because he wasn’t strong enough to force you to stay, but rather, he was selfish enough that he wanted to keep at least one good thing he had going on in his life. 

 It didn’t help that you had cried and screamed, pleading with him until he couldn’t bear the sight of your anguish anymore; anguish that was caused by him. He had never wanted to be the source of your tears, and yet, it had happened, it still continued to happen.

 Itachi knew that he was selfish for not letting you go. He knew that he was selfish for dragging you along with him over the years, and he knew that he was selfish for keeping you hidden away in a cottage on the outskirts of a small village, away from any danger, away from any people. 

 Could anyone blame him though, for wanting to keep something so precious, so dear to him, hidden away?

 Itachi refused to lose you, especially after all those years of being together. 

 He absolutely refused.

 But that’s what made him selfish, that’s what made his final decision all the more hard, because despite how much he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, he was going to shatter your heart completely. 

 He was going to rip your heart into fucking pieces, and leave you empty and bleeding. Even just knowing that, Itachi was still too selfish to tell you to move on while you still had the chance. 

 Not that you would listen, because you never did. 

 You never would, and that was your downfall. 

 But Itachi supposed that his downfall was being completely and utterly in love with you. 

 *****

 “I hate you!” You cried angrily, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. Your brows were furrowed tightly, face twisting in anger and sadness as you desperately tried focusing your gaze on the raven-haired male sitting before you.

 Itachi said nothing, but his eyes never left your face as you gave up wiping at your tears; instead you focused your attention back on the stomach wound he had stumbled into the cottage with. 

 Itachi was gone for months this time, the longest he had ever gone without visiting you. It was devastating, not knowing if he was alive. If Sasuke had finally managed to kill him, if the Akatsuki had figured out his plan, or if Danzo had decided to make a move against him. 

 But he was here, despite the clear exhaustion on his face, the still bleeding wound, he was here, alive and safe with you. 

 That’s all that mattered to you. 

 But you couldn’t help the tears that welled up, couldn’t stop the trembling of your lips as he gazed at you with a soft expression upon entering the home. You couldn’t stop the relief and anger that exploded within you either. 

 He was gone for months, left you all alone for months; and then he showed up unexpectedly with a wound that was steadily bleeding onto your clean floors. Of course you would be angry. 

 You sniffled softly as you healed his wound, at least the medical ninjutsu you had picked up when you were younger was still strong. Although, you did practice every day since then, perfecting your technique. 

 “Do you really hate me?” he asked quietly, gently brushing your hair away from your face along with a few stray tears. 

 “No.” you huffed. You were pleased with your work and settled for wrapping his wound up with some gauze. “But you were gone.”

 Itachi’s expression softened completely, and he carefully curled his fingers along your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he cupped your face tenderly. 

 “I know.” he murmured, dark eyes flickering across your face before he shifted his weight forward on the chair. 

 “You can’t just leave and then not contact me for months…” You whimpered out, tears welling up in your eyes again. 

 “I know.” he breathed out softly, lips brushing tenderly against your forehead, before pressing gentle kisses against your closing eyelids. 

 “You can’t just come back and expect that everything would be okay.” You continued babbling, eyes fluttering shut at each kiss he placed against your face. 

 “I know.” he continued saying softly, his lips trailing against the length of your cheek, brushing away at the tears.

 “You can’t just bleed out on my floors when I’ve just cleaned them.” you sniffled. 

 Itachi’s lips twitched against your skin, almost quirking into a smile at that statement. 

 “I know.”

 “You can’t make me miss you like this anymore. I don’t think my heart can take -” his lips pressed against yours, silencing you completely. 

 This kiss was all that he could muster up. A physical act that conveyed just how he was feeling in this moment as well. A gentle reminder that he was here now, that you no longer had to worry about him, that he would give you anything and everything if it meant that you would still be here waiting for him to come back every single time he left out the door. 

 “I know.” he whispered, pulling back from your lips only slightly, before kissing you again. This time it was more urgent, needy and hot as he slid his tongue into your mouth. 

 All he could smell; all he could taste was you. But it wasn’t enough for him, not today. Not when he hadn’t felt you, touched you, in such a long time. 

 Itachi easily pulled you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his thick waist while his strong hands easily gripped at the back of your legs. Carrying you into the small bedroom before he dropped you onto the bed. 

 He was desperate right now, in a frenzy to feel every inch of your skin pressed against his. He yanked the clothes covering your body until you were completely bare to his hungry eyes. 

 Itachi would have every inch of you tonight, he would get reacquainted with the body he knew like the back of his hand. He would give you every ounce of pleasure he was capable of, a physical apology for being gone for so long, for making you upset. 

 “Beautiful.” he murmured softly before he pressed his mouth against every inch of your skin, biting and sucking his mark into your soft flesh, relishing in the delicate moans and pants that escaped your swollen lips. 

 When it came to you, he was insatiable, he could never get enough; Itachi was a greedy man, a selfish man. But only for you. 

 It was always you. Would always be you. 

 His eyes slipped shut as his tongue gently touched your bundle of nerves, savoring the sweet taste of you, and the listening to the high-pitched moan that started escaping your mouth. 

 Your fingers tangled tightly into his hair; his tongue flickering against your clit before sliding against your soaking wet slit. 

 You tasted like heaven, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop until your legs were trembling on either side of his head. 

 “Itachi, please.” you whimpered out, “want you, please.” 

 Who was he to deny you what you wanted?

 Itachi crawled up your body; gripping his hard member in his hand, pumping carefully as he slid the head of his cock against your drenched folds.

 His gaze never left your face before he slid into your weeping cunt. The expression you had could have easily made him cum then and there. 

 Fuck, he could never get enough of you. 

 This lovemaking was desperate and needy, it had just been so long since the last time you guys were around each other, since the last time he had tasted every inch of you. You could tell from the way that Itachi grabbed at your body, from the way that he held you tight as he thrusted hard and fast into your body, from the way that he was tearing orgasm from orgasm out of your overstimulated body. 

 It was too much, almost. 

 But who were you kidding? 

 The entire aspect of your relationship with this man was entirely too much. It had been too much since the moment you two became friends, to the moment where your parents decided to create an arranged marriage between the two of you, to the moment that he had slaughtered the entire clan, to the moment where he tried to leave you, to the moments that you guys had faced over the years, to this very moment. 

 You wouldn’t change it though, none of it. As long as you had Itachi, nothing else mattered. 

 Despite what he may think, or what others may think. You knew Itachi in a way that no one else did. He was the best man you had ever met, kind and gentle, a man that was willing to sacrifice his freedom and his reputation for those he was devoted to. 

 You couldn’t bear it when he tried leaving you; when he asked you to stay and watch over Sasuke. 

 You couldn’t handle it; you couldn’t let him go through everything alone. You had to be with him, you had to take care of him. It was all you had ever known. But you also knew everything, the sadness that you had felt towards your village, towards your clan, you still felt it to this very day. 

 But you also knew that what you were feeling was nothing compared to what Itachi was feeling. A burden that he had to carry on his own. 

 It chipped at your heart, knowing that you could do nothing to quell those emotions, and while he did a good job at hiding them, you knew that they were still present. 

 “You’ll stay?” You mumbled softly, snuggling deeper into the warm body next to you. Your head was on his chest, listening to the familiar, steady beat of his heart. It was comforting. 

 “For now.” he said quietly, rough fingers dancing against the skin that stretched across your shoulder blades. 

 You could feel your brows furrowing, a soft noise of complaint escaping your lips, but sleep was weighing heavily in your mind, disorientating you. 

 Itachi hushed you softly, his plush lips pressing against the crown of your head as he urged you to go to sleep. 

 “Will you be here in the morning?” you tried again, your speech slurring slightly as sleep began to tug you under. 

 If he responded or not, you weren’t sure. You were already passed out, curling further into his arms. 

 You should’ve known the answer to that question though, because it always ended the same way. 

 When you had woken up the next morning, you were alone. Still bare from last night, body sore and covered in love bites, evidence that he had come home, if only for one night; and the side of the bed that he had slept on was cold and empty. 

 You could feel your heart chipping just a little more as you let a couple of tears escape your eyes. 

 He would come back, you knew that, but you wished… you wished he didn’t have to do that. 

 You wished that he would just stay. 

 ****

 This was routine. His coming and going was something that wasn’t new, it had been this way for years. 

 But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

 So for the next couple of months it continued, at least this time around, he actually told you how long he would be gone for. He would let you know when he would be coming back, and it stayed consistent. 

 Until one day it wasn’t. 

 It was a day that you felt completely off that you knew something tragic, something devastating was about to happen, but you didn’t know what. You just knew. You could feel it in the air, you could feel it in the very core of your being.

 So when you found him, when you found them. It shouldn’t have surprised you. You knew this day was coming, you knew that it was going to happen eventually, but you never prepared yourself for it. 

 Itachi didn’t either, he never talked to you about it, never tried to prepare you to face the hard reality of it. He knew that he was selfish in that way; he justified it as not wanting to hurt you any more than he already had. 

 He hadn’t anticipated you finding him like this though. He was going to rip your heart into pieces, yes, but not like this. Itachi didn’t want you to see him like this; and the way you were sobbing reminded him of that night, and he could feel his own heart shattering along with yours. 

 It was true what they said about your life flashing before your eyes in the face of death. Itachi could see it all, could feel the pang of sadness and regret as he fought to keep his eyes open, staring up at your beautiful face. 

 He could’ve led a quiet life with you, somewhere far away, a place that didn’t know who you guys were, or what he had done. Itachi could see it all now. You two would have been married now, would have started your own little family, in a nice house with a beautiful garden. It would have been quiet and peaceful. He could see you perfectly, happy and bright, belly swollen with his child while his other child clung to your leg as you guys waited for him to return back from the market with food. 

 He’s never wanted anything more. But a life like that could only be a whisper of a dream. The current life that he had led - up until this point - wouldn’t allow that. But maybe… maybe in another life he could have had it all. He could have continued to have you. 

 “Please.” You sobbed. 

 You were clutching at his body tightly, attempting to heal his wounds with desperation; ignoring the shocked and sad gaze of the other tall male standing a few feet away from you. All you could focus on was Itachi. 

 Itachi couldn’t help but give you a gentle smile, reaching up to cup your face carefully. Even like this; distressed and desperate, you were still so beautiful to him.

 “I know.” he breathed out quietly. 

 His hand slipped from your face, leaving behind a streak of crimson before falling onto his body with a soft thud. 

 In another life, he would be far more selfish than he was in this life. In another life, he would hope that you would still be waiting for him at home, only this time, he would never have to leave. 

[ashleyfanfic]

I posted 1,414 times in 2021

124 posts created (9%)

1290 posts reblogged (91%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.4 posts.

I added 509 tags in 2021

#bridgerton - 90 posts

#jonerys - 90 posts

#dramione - 49 posts

#jon x dany - 49 posts

#jonerys fanfic - 43 posts

#jon x daenerys - 42 posts

#polin - 40 posts

#kit harington - 38 posts

#bridgertonedit - 36 posts

#jonerys fanfiction - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#best one i’ve ever seen was the writer apologizing that they went mia. they were in a bad car crash and literally had to learn to walk again

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32800618

Just some porny little fun that came about because of an email I got from my apartment complex. Dedicated to @jalenmara!

92 notes • Posted 2021-07-25 02:00:36 GMT

#4

JONERYS REMIX 2021 SIGN UPS!

This is it! The SIGN UPS ARE HERE! The Concept: participants choose from a list of famous couples (historical, folklore, literature, movies, television, etc.). Then they "remix" the original couple’s story using whatever elements of the original story that they find inspiring to create a brand new piece of Jonerys fic or artwork!

So, here are the rules: 

All fics must be completed. If you choose to upload a chapter at a time and have them revealed individually, that’s fine as long as fics are uploaded, in full, by 31 May 2021.

Please don’t choose a couple you have already done, but you are allowed to choose a couple that someone else has done.

Two pieces of art and two fics per couple

If you need an extension close to the due date, please message me and let me know.

The pieces for the remix have to be new fics/art and not a chapter of something you have already begun posting

Make sure you tag your posts Jonerys Remix 2021 when posting to either Archive of Our Own or Tumblr. All fics, in order to qualify for submission, must be posted under the group Jonerys Remix 2021 on AO3.

Do not post your fic/art anywhere else until they are revealed to the community.

All fics/art will be revealed on a specified day.

You may claim more than one couple for fics and art.

Now, as for the important dates: (bolded dates have been changed)

1 November 2020 - Announcement Post and Releasing of the list - wanted to make sure everyone had enough time to look over the list and start making plans as to who they would like to claim.

4 January 2021 - Claiming of couple(s) – a form will be posted to this blog to the signup sheet.

1 MAY – all fics due to be posted on AO3 (this date has been pushed back for more time)

10 MAY – Fics will start being revealed (this date has been pushed back for more time)

THE LIST

Make sure you reblog to spread the word. And remember, this is a first come, first serve in terms of claims. So make sure you have your first, second, and third choice included. If you have a couple you’d like to do that you don’t see on the list, please let me know through PM here on Tumblr. 

SIGN UP FORM

95 notes • Posted 2021-01-05 03:56:13 GMT

#3

The Oral Education of Miss Penelope Featherington

Rating: Explicit

Fandoms: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn, Bridgerton (TV)

Relationship: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Summary: The night after their engagement party, Penelope awakes to find her future husband asleep beside her. Once he’s awake, however, he devotes himself to broadening her topics of interest.

A/N: No regrets. I’m obsessed. After I watched Bridgerton, I quickly moved on to the books, my favorite being book 4, Romancing Mister Bridgerton which is all about Colin and his blossoming romance with Penelope Featherington. I’ve read it three times in the span of two weeks.

So, I love the scene at the engagement party where Colin takes her off to secretly do the deed for the first time while everyone else is celebrating their future wedding. And the mention of Colin going the next morning to their mothers to tell them to move up the wedding and let them think what they wanted... I love him, your honor!

So this is my thoughts on precisely how they woke up and some morning intimacy and shagging!

HUGE THANKS to my bestest friend in the entire world, justwandering-neverlost, for the gorgeous mood board and the beta on this. I hope you all enjoy!

95 notes • Posted 2021-01-19 05:46:35 GMT

#2

Dragons Dark and Deep

Chapter 23 - You're Out On the Bottomless Sea Jon and Dany deal with the repercussions of Arya's actions and Sansa's death. The reality of Bran's situation comes crashing down even harder. An unexpected arrival gives Jon some peace.

Go read HERE

105 notes • Posted 2021-03-25 02:31:28 GMT

#1

Well, @justwandering-neverlost told me I needed to post this here as well as AO3, so here you go. Just the targlings. I hate drawing teeth and I don’t know why I did this to myself!

112 notes • Posted 2021-05-23 13:39:34 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[radbutsafe]

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....