#I'm having a lot of fun if you couldn't tell

[hongjoongspoetry]

Thank you so much!!! Literally the first thing I did when waking up this morning was reading your reblog. It made my day 🤧🩷

To be honest, when brainstorming, Hongjoong immediately popped in my mind and I couldn't picture anyone else taking the role as the talented musician other than him. The same goes for Duke!Seonghwa. There's just something about them that gives off those vibes.

Yunho... I have a love-hate relationship with him in this series (which you'll understand more the further we get into the story), but yes, his overprotectiveness is really something 😭

Oh Mingi, my Mingi. Probably one of my fav characters. He's just a dork, your honor! A very flustered mess. And yes, there will be more Mingi/MC scenes in most parts!!! (Everyone cheered!!) Their friendship plays a huge part in this fic too, so stay calm, because it won't be the last time we see of that duo.

There also seems to be a huge interest in His Grace... And well, I don't want to say too much, but you may or may not have a change of mind later ehehe 👀😈

Trust, the next part is in progress. It's just taking a lot of time considering I'm balancing school, my internship and writing... it's a shame there's only 24 hours in a day-

Again, thank you so much for reading and telling me your thoughts. It's always fun to read what you have to say, so don't be shy to just puke out all your guts to me 🥹

A Love Written in Gold

Part 1 — The Debut

🦢 Summary: Dearest gentle readers, the much-anticipated season of debutantes has finally graced us, casting a spell of delightful nerves among our young ladies poised to conquer the glittering heights of society. As is tradition, a diamond amongst them has been selected to dazzle—oh, which lucky charm shall it be this year? Amidst a flurry of introductions and grand soirèes, let it be noted that the inaugural ball shall be hosted by the illustrious His Grace, the Duke of Beaumonte. But pray tell, who are those most peculiar gentlemen drawing all eyes with their striking features? And what delightful mischief lies in wait for the debutante of the Jeong Household and her charming commoner, behind the discreetly shut doors of the music room?

🦢 Pairing(s): Proletarian!Hongjoong x Noble!Reader, Duke!Seonghwa x Noble!Reader

🦢 Genres/Tropes: Bridgerton AU, Regency era, forbidden love

🦢 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), female reader, sexism, mentioned classism, explicit language, overprotective!Yunho, wholesome family dynamics, slight angst

🦢 Wordcount: 14.7K

🦢 Author's Note: Welcome to my second series!! Whi-hoooooo! I've been wanting to write a Bridgerton AU since s3 came out and what better than to make it a Hongjoong series. It was about time I did something for my bias lmaoo. Anyway, the tags are a bit vague and I'll update them as the chapters come out, so check them out with each update. A little fun thing I did. There are a few 🎼 emojis spread through out the chapter with songs I thought were fitting to the scenes, so if you want, listen while reading :) The following songs are in order:

Young and Beautiful, Vitamin String Quartet | We Are Young, Vitamin String Quartet | Positions, Jeremy Green | Chopin: Waltz No. 19 in A minor, Op. posth.

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!!!

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Winter prepared for its departure as spring eagerly waited by the door, a green blanket in hand and pockets full of overgrowing flowers. She was more than ready to wrap the world in a warm hug of vivid colors and greenery. Many ladies got ready for their first active participation in the social season, giving their parents, maids and butlers a handful of things to fret over. In one of the most respectable households of the ton, the Jeongs were arranging everything for their youngest to make her appearance in society as a débutante and help her search for the perfect eligible man.

“We must hurry! The carriages are outside,” Wooyoung announced and raked his hand through his combed hair, making it appear messy as if just risen out of bed.

Although being the second born of the late Viscount and Viscountess Jeong and possessing no title to his name, Wooyoung still dressed the part of an aristocrat. His double-breasted vest was a white creme color with a tad bit brighter dress shirt beneath, the light colors contrasted his dark features and he stood out as a star in a pitch black sky. A matching neck scarf rested around his neck and he occasionally tugged at it, complaining of the itchy and suffocating material that no one dared to alter, courtesy of it being his mother’s choice. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of black trousers, showcasing his glutes and muscles. The black tailcoat was yet to be worn, but he had no doubts it would hug his body in a delicate way to display his slim waist and make up for his lack of height. 

Granted Wooyoung was not seeking a lady to wed, he would still arrive to gatherings wearing expensive pieces of clothing and jewelry and a dazzling smile that would make even the stubbornest of ladies swoon. Much as last year’s social season, Wooyoung planned on greeting the pretty debutants with a kiss to the back of their hands and — if feeling frisky — asking to sign their dance cards with a glint of mischief in his truffle colored eyes. 

“Then someone should hasten our lovely sister, do you not agree, Brother?” Yunho, the current viscount and head of the household, suggested. 

Unlike Wooyoung, Yunho was wearing darker schemes besides his white shirt and the pretty silver patterns on his thick vest. His tailcoat was darker than coal, but soft as feathers, made out of a velvet fabric indigent people had never set eyes on, much less dreamed of. The black scarf was neatly tucked beneath his vest and the elder showed no signs of irritation, he looked rather content and relaxed on the plush couch in the living room. Yunho’s long legs were decorated with black pants and extravagant leather boots reaching up to his knees. 

The Jeong brothers did not look alike, from their varying facial characteristics to the height difference, anyone not aware of them sharing blood — they would be foolish not to know — would not believe they were nurtured by the same father and mother. 

“What a splendid proposition, Brother, however, I do have to say she is far more civil in your company.”

“Stop speaking of your sister in that way,” their mother, Dowager Viscountess Ireum Lee, chastised and gently ran her palm along her beautiful pistachio green gown. 

At first glance, the woman seemed to be a very serious and strict lady. Some even dared to compare her to a sly fox. Looking into her sharp and dark eyes would be the equivalent of staring into a void hole—dark, empty and cold. Her neatly braided, black hair and red-tainted lips were vivid against her bright complexion, and she was always shielded from the sun whether it was under an umbrella or a great tree. Despite her resting facade — claiming to be missing that motherly warmth newborns would yearn for — she could light up a room with her bright smile and soft-turned eyes. Her beauty was truly unmatched and no amount of makeup could make the other mamas appear nearly as pretty. It was no secret both Yunho and Wooyoung acquired their looks from her. Yunho with his cupid bow lip and Wooyoung’s wide cheekbones and sharp jaw. 

“Although it is true we do not have time to idle. Let us fetch your sister.” The brothers followed their mother as ducklings padded after a hen, with haste and no further questions asked.

“Is she still not ready?” Yunho asked as the trio stopped before a great white opening, both of the doors closed and some shuffling noises coming from inside the youngest's room.

“It seems so, dear.”

“We do not have time, Mama. I should call for her.” As Wooyoung advanced forward, his hand stuck out to grasp the golden knob, Yunho quickly gripped the younger’s wrist.

“Did you not say she preferred my company over yours, little Brother?”

“That was before we risked running late, now if you would.” Wooyoung ripped his hand out of the gentle hold and gave a new try of entering. 

A millimeter away before Wooyoung’s gloved fingers made contact again, the doors swung open and the trio simultaneously stepped back. Multiple maids rapidly left the room and soft as a feather, the youngest and only daughter of the Jeong family came into view. You were gorgeous. The epitome of breathtaking. The white dress cascaded down your body and reached the glossy tiles of the hallway. The details of the gown were subtle. The pair of golden roses professionally woven into the puffed sleeves and across the bosom accentuated your chest. No more frilly necklines or thick dresses to cover your figure. Your exposed neck was adorned with a golden necklace, an heirloom passed down in generations, from your late grandmother to your late mama, to you and eventually to your future daughter or daughter-in-law. It was a simple piece of jewelry and resembled branches of a tree holding pearls and clear diamonds instead of leaves. The maids responsible for your hair arranged it into an updo with many pins to not accidentally stray in your gently dolled-up face. A feather headpiece drew all the attention to itself, standing tall on your crown and flapping with each little movement of yours.

“Miss Lee!” Wooyoung teasingly remarked, “You sure do make a fine debutant, little Sister.”

Matching Wooyoung’s playfulness, you pinched the material of your dress between your silky-clad hands and curtsied with a faux smile, an expression you mastered over the years for this specific event.

“Thank you, Woo.” Facing the rest of the family, you bowed again, “Mother. Yunho.”

“You look lovely, my dear.” Ireum placed her hands on your shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “Your papa and mama would have been proud of you, treasure.”

“Do you really believe that?” The insecurity in your tone did not go misheard.

“I am more than certain.” She cupped your jaw and allowed her thumb to caress the apple of your cheek.

Your real mother passed during childbirth along with your younger brother, who did not live to take his first breath outside her womb. Three summers passed until your father, the late Viscount Lee, wed another lady with the promise of taking her two sons under his care. In exchange, Ireum raised you as her own daughter, but never with the intent of erasing the trail your mother left in the short three years she shared with you. There was only so much a three-year-old could remember and if it were not for the big portrait of your late parents hanging in your room, you would have forgotten the face of your biological mother. Despite the loss of your mama, you still felt the motherly love seep through the words and touches of Ireum.

The quirk of having a small family was that all members fit into one carriage and no one was rarely ever forgotten. Except for Wooyoung, who did the unthinkable just to escape the watchful eyes of Ireum in order to have some fun. Holding the title of the household, Yunho never stepped out of line and fulfilled his duty of keeping the family in good hands. You had what would probably be the easiest task; to stand and look pretty. It sounded boring at first, but the more you did not bring attention to yourself, the easier it was to slip under the radar of the ton. 

That would all change today. Whilst the people of the ton woke up hours after the sun rose, the famished side of town was on their legs since before the bright star had peeked over the horizon. For them, it was nothing more than another day of hard work and bringing food to the table. Age and gender were two words that did not mean much besides giving character to their entities. The poor were thrust into work at a very young age — something families like the Jeongs could never imagine — and brought in a handful of pennies over the course of weeks. The cycle would repeat until driven into an early grave from either lung poisoning, exhaustion or starvation. Some would say it was unfair that the sole family you were born into could determine your whole life and others would argue otherwise, claiming life was formed by sheer strategy and the use of tools that were handed to you after birth. 

Mister Choi would agree despite having more leaves and sticks in his boyish pockets than coins. Raised and almost born on the floor of his father’s pub, Mister Choi spent more time inside the beer-filled room than in their own house. He was a somewhat respected man, not by means of money, but by the reputation built through his greatest treasure, his pub. It was the reason behind the Choi’s survival through generations and the next owner in line was no one else but his first and only child, San. Mister Choi would be turning in his grave had he known what his offspring planned to do with his greatest treasure. 

Far away from the flower populated streets filled with luxurious carriages, men and women dressed in eye-catching costumes, and magnificent architecture, a dingy space residing in a rundown building. The name decided by the great grandfather of Mister Choi was carved into the wooden sign hanging above the entrance, albeit reformed throughout the years. The moment the key was in the palms of San, the young man decided to change the complete interior. The Crescent was the pride and glory of the Choi bloodline and looking over the semi-full boxing club, San could not have imagined a better use of the previous pub.

“I do not get how you do this, I mean, you can not even see a speck of blood on my floorboards!” San exclaimed, bruised hands resting against his bare hips. 

The male who was done scrubbing the wooden floor threw the dirtied rag over his shoulder and glanced up at the owner. San was a very handsome man. Sharp eyes, full rosy lips and prominent cheekbones. The black hair was parted down the middle with a few strands escaping and falling over his forehead. His most alluring feature were the dimples appearing with his dazzling smile, an attribute people would commit treason for. That was not all. Beside his captivating face, San’s body was that of a sculpture. The thin tank top did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and strong arms, and even brought forth his slim waist. The man had muscles in all the right places, courtesy of the daily exercise in his club blessing him with very hard abdominal muscles and firm buttocks. San was a work of art and there was no doubt in mind he would fit right in with the ton, if he only discarded that kindhearted personality.

“Lukewarm water and a lot of finger strength,” replied the worker, his pale hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

“Remind me to give you a raise. You have helped me more than anyone and to you I am forever in debt.”

“The debt was paid off the moment you allowed me a space in your home, providing food on my plate and shelter over my head. Do not fret over such minor things, San. I do see you as family after all.”

“Good, because you are the closest I have to an older brother, Hongjoong.”

The first time San saw Hongjoong, they had yet to reach the age of puberty. The elder was a scrawny child by nature and stayed that way in his twenties as well. Thinking back to the olden days, not much about his appearance had changed except for the aging and looking part of a man and not a boy. His caramel colored hair was still untamed and reached the base of his neck while the front strands were cut so as not to fall in his line of sight. Hongjoong was a man of very delicate features; a small and pointy nose, a heart-shaped mouth and feline eyes in the prettiest shade of brown San had ever bestowed. 

Hongjoong would have thrived in the life of a rich man, but that loose mouth of his would certainly land him in a heap of troubles. However, it did not matter as he was born with nothing. No title that would pay off all his troubles in life, no family with a great sum of money or greater achievement to inherit. Hongjoong was a mere man with a dream that would never be fulfilled. All the obstacles thrown in his life taught him to be grateful for what he had and not long for dreams out of his reach. 

“I do believe we have cleaned up nicely for my cousin’s arrival. You can take a rest and write some of your poems and stories that you oh-so-desperately hide from me.”

The exhaustion settled over Hongjoong’s shoulders and he could not have been more happy to hear the word ‘rest’ leave San’s lips. They had been cleaning since stepping foot in the boxing club and all because of San’s wish the place be tidy for his cousin’s first visit. 

He let out a sound the mix of a chuckle and cough. “They are music sheets, not stories and I am merely hiding them because they are yet to be finished.”

“You are telling me you have not even finished one piece of music over the course of how many years?”

“I am a perfectionist! You of all people should know that, San-ie.”

Prepared to tease the elder a little more, San threw an arm around him and lit up the room with his dimpled smile, but was interrupted as the door creaked open. In came a man appearing younger than Hongjoong and with a bigger value than the whole club and San’s apartment combined.

Judging by the unknown male's exquisite choice of clothes, Hongjoong would guess he belonged on the opposite side of town where they dined appetizers for lunch and drank champagne instead of water. Not a speck of dirt tainted his all-white suit, in fact, the only brown smudge on his whole appearance was his neatly parted hair to show his forehead. The stoic expression on his round face sent caution heedings through Hongjoong. Fearing he was there to cause ruckus — because why else would distinguished gentlemen stop by a boxing club funded by another poor man — Hongjoong hardened his gaze and balled his hands into fists. A gesture that would have him shunned out of every place in the whole town, no matter how poor or rich he may have been. As Hongjoong moved to greet him in an unfriendly manner, San’s sudden detachment from the caramel-haired man caught him off guard, but not nearly as much as the loud and warm greeting following seconds after.

“Little Cousin!” 

San moved at the speed of a racing horse and disregarded the extortionate suit as he wrapped his bare and sweaty arms around the man, using enough power to lift him off the ground and spin them around. The man looked uncomfortable, but his features were not colored with a tinge of annoyance or anger, quite the opposite. He broke out in a smile, gummy teeth on display and eyes creasing as a cute giggle filled the spunky atmosphere. The threat Hongjoong created in his mind was nothing but an exaggeration. Instead of a Grizzly Bear, the man became a teddy.

“San, release me!”

“I cannot help it, Cousin, I have not seen you in ages!”

The cousin, Hongjoong had yet to put a name to, dusted off imaginary dirt and straightened the lapels of his suit. “It has not been ages, you always exaggerate. We met at Mama's funeral last season, although I do apologize for not interacting all too much with you.”

It sounded like a foolish thing to apologize for, but who was Hongjoong to question it? He had never been to a funeral and would most likely not live to witness one either. The first one would attend, he would be lying in the casket if he was lucky enough to afford one in the first place.

“Anyhow, that is not important now. I did not travel all the way here to reminisce of my last moments with Mama. I have a proposition for you, but before that will you not introduce me to your… comrade?”

Hongjoong looked as perplexed as San’s cousin sounded. He did not expect the young man to address him anywise and certainly not with a high regard. His mouth opened and closed continuously. The silence prolonged and Hongjoong awaited harsh words and a biting remark from the gentleman at his lack of answer, but all he received was a patient stare.

“Uh, right! Right. May I introduce my one and only trustworthy friend, Hongjoong? Hongjoong, this is Lord Choi, owner of Precious, the most well known pub industry in all of Scotland and currently expanding to England.”

“Just… Hongjoong?” The man nodded and Lord Choi sighed. “Very well then. As my cousin said, I am Lord Choi, but you can address me by my given name, Jongho. I am not all that keen on formalities, especially with friends, and a friend of my cousin is a friend of mine.”

Hongjoong stared at the Lord, at his new friend, who showed off his gummy pearls as if the man had promised him a house of gold and not just progressed past the formalities five seconds into their meeting.

“Now, back to what I was saying. The proposition, Cousin. His Grace is hosting the first ball of the season and I have been given the freedom to bring whomever I want.”

“And you decided to bring your dirt poor cousin because?”

“You know I have never liked these social gatherings, I cannot deal with mamas coming up trying to wed off their daughters. Matter of fact, you are invited too, Hongjoong.”

Jongho was full of surprises, Hongjoong concluded. Dressed in a proper suit and hair tidily combed, but he still whined as if a century old child. It was uncommon—in fact, it was very rare—to see an aristocrat be kind toward people the likes of Hongjoong and San. He could not count on his hands the number of times nobility shunned him for his mere existence. To have a Lord call him his friend and invite him to the first ball of the season was bound to leave him skeptical.

Hongjoong cleared his throat and wiped his clammy hands against his ripped bottoms. “Uh, my apologies, Lord Ch– Jongho, but I cannot attend… I do not have the means to finance an exquisite suit or carriage or, well anything to be frank.”

“The same goes for me, little cousin.” San slung his arm over Hongjoong’s shoulders and connected the sides of their heads. “Besides, who will tend the boxing club?”

Jongho broke out into another grin, shoulders up to his ears and his brown eyes squinting so hard one could believe San shared the funniest joke of the epoch. “You seem to forget yourself, cousin. I, Jongho, have enough money to free up the rest of your week and restock your wardrobe for the foreseeable future. For the both of you. Go and clean up while I make some arrangements for us. It is time to pay a visit to an old friend.” He firmly grabbed both men by their shoulders and guided them further into the boxing club.

Hongjoong was never one to back down from a good time full of food, sweets and excessive beverages, not to mention pretty ladies in frilly dresses. Going under the hot stream of water and changing into a new set of somewhat clean clothes, the three men took Jongho’s carriage to the supposed old friend. The representative colors of Kilmartin, blue azure and an argent shade of white, covered the carriage in swirls. The foreign palette was bound to make them stand out from the rest, like the cart passing by drenched in complete black and minimal designs of gold added on the outline and handels.

There was always a mild curiosity among the bystanders standing on the pavement, yet the blue and white colors managed to even catch the attention of the second-born Jeong, who himself was in a carriage going in the opposite direction. The rapid flicks of his wrist slowed down as he continuously peered out the window, his attention caught by something more important than his sister’s worry over her debut. Sweat coiled beneath your armpits and chest, and the air fanned with the help of Wooyoung did nothing to cool you down. 

“Are there different ranks for certain carriages?” 

You snatched the fan from Wooyoung’s hands and smacked it over his head. “Is that the most crucial thing to discuss right now, Brother? I am sweating like a pig and all you ask is the value of carriages? I have not heard one, ‘How are you, Sister? Can I help you, Sister?’ from you.”

“Will you two hush? The whole ton can hear your bickering and I am certain that will not heighten your reputation amongst them. What man fancies a lady who is ill mannered and what lady seeks out an aloof gentleman?”

The two youngest of the Jeong Household erupted into another fit of whines and complaints making Yunho’s attempt at calming them down futile. As the head of the family and viscount, he could handle all the duties that came with the roles, but aiding their mother with the growth and upbringing of his siblings was a far more complex task than anything he had battled before. 

“I would not be deemed ill mannered if my brother could focus on the task at hand!”

“Aloof? Aloof?! What is so aloof about wanting to expand my knowledge?!”

Yunho sighed and leaned back against the plush seat, he could not listen to another second of pointing fingers and turned to his mother for help. The Dowager Viscountess chuckled gracefully, mouth shielded by her clothed hand and lips tightly sealed but not enough to hide the delighted sound. The struggle straining his features did not go unnoticed and she decided to interfere before his rich brown strands turned gray. 

“Alright children, settle down!” Ireum took the fan out of your hand and resumed Wooyoung’s previous task. “Now, Yunho does have a talent for over exaggerating, my dears, but I do not agree with his claim. None of my children are ill mannered, maybe sharp-tongued and… on occasions rowdy, but still very demure.” 

“But Mama!”

“No, buts Wooyoung dear, stop arguing and let us focus on your sister’s debut into high society.”

You straightened at the attention and raised your chin to the heavens. The pride set into every atom of your body and pulled at your lips until a triumphant smile lit up your face. There was no sweet victory as the one over your brothers. Your pleased look crumbled as the trotting horses slowed down and eventually stopped the whole carriage. The moment you had been dreaming of since little legs was upon you and it was equally scary as it was exciting. Walking through the doors of the royal court and being guided into a room with a dozen other ladies waiting to present made you realize how close you were to your dream. There was no retracing your steps to the life of a little girl anymore and while it sounded great, it also filled you with melancholy. Debuting meant entering a stage in life neither of your biological parents witnessed you in and closing the door on your childhood was to leave the memories of your late papa and mama. However, your mourning did not solely contain the passing of the late Viscount and Viscountess Lee, but also of the girlhood you would not face until your own daughter was brought to the world with an ear piercing cry. 

Your brothers or any other male relatives were not allowed in the waiting room and were referred to accompany the remaining guests in the main hall. The girls in your vicinity were all clad the same, some were more nervous than others, but the tension was nonetheless high in the room. The worry of their appearances did not quiet down until the first girl was announced to step out. The remaining débutantes-in-waiting stopped adjusting their gowns and feathers and focused on being calm enough to not ruin the important walk that would determine their rank and value in the market. Out of everyone there, you wished for one person to appear. Mingi, the heir to the seventh Viscount Song, whom you had known since birth more or less. It was a shame only the primary family of each débutante could attend as it would bring you immense peace to have him there. To see his towering height, bright smile, and single crooked front tooth on display and mouthing encouraging words. Mingi’s presence alone would lift the suffocating spell you were under. 

🎼 The chatter of the people outside moved in waves, raising and simmering out between presentations. As with many others, your name was eventually proclaimed on the other side of the door and the last ounce of concern sketched on your features evened out into a pleased expression. Your small courtesy smile was to catch everyone’s attention while your eyes would be the gems making them swoon. The announcer’s voice increased in volume as the doors parted, allowing the spectators to drink in the next débutante. 

“...Presented by her mother, the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Lee!”

You took calm and collected steps, synchronizing them with Ireum’s who was half a step behind you, looking equally as mesmerizing and captivating as the day she debuted. The trick to these things, she had told you years ago, was to keep your head straight and posture upright, showcasing importance and elegance. You had been practicing the walk for ages. The amount of trashed books and shattered teapots stretched over a hundred, but they lived to serve their purpose in the end. Hushed whispers and looks filled with curiosity followed your moving forms. You immediately found the scrutinizing gaze of the Queen, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. She was clad in the most exquisite dress you ever laid eyes upon and that spoke volumes as you had your own fair share of expensive silks tailored to fit your body like a glove. The mighty periwig adorning her small head took on the form of a rosebush and put everyone else’s to shame. It was so huge, you nearly missed the gleaming crown — delicate and small — on top, sparkling in the dim lights of the chandelier.

Somewhere in the crowd stood your brothers. Wooyoung with a proud smile and cheesing eyes while the older looked rather grim, not liking the idea of his baby sister turning into a woman. But underneath that hard exterior, warmth and happiness heaved a weight off his shoulders. A feeling akin to pride swelled in his chest just to see everyone’s surprised and amazed reactions. The Jeongs always knew how to leave an impression.

���Your sister does take after your mother, Lord Jeong.” A deep yet soft voice murmured next to him. Yunho looked away from you curtsying, the correction resting on his tongue dispersing into thin air as it landed on a familiar face.

“Your Grace, what a delightful surprise it is to meet you here.”

The Duke of Beaumonte, Seonghwa, looked as he sounded; rich and eloquent. His hair was long and black, falling as a blanket over his nape and tickling his collarbones. Most of his hair was neatly combed back, all but one piece of his fringe, which was styled to curl in front of his bare forehead. Not many gentlemen dared such a hairstyle, as the fear of appearing gruesome was more probable than winning a horse race, but Seonghwa was the exception. He did not cower for any challenge, even those involving fashion. From peculiar suits to eye-catching hairdos, he frequently introduced new styles into society and it was by virtue of his handsome features that it looked good. The long bridge of his nose, full raspberry-colored lips, prominent dark brows and a pair of mesmerizing eyes held a peculiar coldness, but in essence he carried a warmth strong enough to melt iron. The duke was a character born out of a fairy tale with the posture of a soldier and the brain of a scholar. Women dreamed of a worthy man the likes of Seonghwa and men were green with envy whenever his appearance was made. 

Seonghwa chuckled, “I hope it is not that big of a surprise as I intend to find a wife this season.”

“Ah, that does explain your presence indeed and is that the reason behind hosting the first ball of the season, as well?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, a futile attempt at covering the broad smile fighting to come forth. “You are still quick-witted, I see… Perhaps it is. A man has to assess his range of selection in some way, does he not?”

Yunho nodded, agreeing with the duke, but could not further comment on the matter as the Queen rose from her seat on the red throne, wordlessly silencing the entire hall. She stopped before you and put a finger beneath your chin, guiding you to stand straight. Ireum did not dare to move an inch from the uncomfortable crouched position and your brothers’ held their breaths as if one single intake of air would ruin the moment for you. The Queen’s icy demeanor was a stark contrast to the warmth emitting from her touch. Your heart nearly collapsed as she uttered one single word and blessed you with a tender peck to your forehead.

“Perfection.” 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and your previously gracious smile fell into one of bewilderment instead. There was no higher honor than the praise of the royal house. 

Viscount Jeong did not fathom how powerful of a tongue the Queen possessed. He did not manage to step foot outside the royal court without being hounded by at least a dozen eligible gentlemen, asking for a formal introduction to his sister while boasting about their gold mines in the Kingdom of Spain or studies in India. Yunho was overwhelmed and there was still a ball to attend. The interactions would not stop there, as the season had only just begun, but Yunho was already overthrown by a headache not even his finest flask of brandy could cure. As if that was not enough, another headache in disguise of his brother waltzed through the door of his study.

Wooyoung was dressed boldly that evening. The rich red of his tailored jacket was hard to stray away from and one would think he was one of the débutantes searching for a bachelor to court. It seemed to be a trademark for the Jeongs to have gold details carved into anything they touched as Wooyoung’s jacket was embroidered in that particular color. The rest of his suit was all black; slacks, dress shirt and shoes with his dark hair slicked back with stray strands falling over his forehead in a fashion-like manner. The younger was also freshly shaved and Yunho could feel the pinch of his strong cologne on the other end of the room. 

“Oh, Brother! I was sent to fetch you by Mama; it is time to leave yet aga– Pray do tell, why are you not dressed?” 

“I have been busy discarding letters asking for formal introductions to our sister. Would you believe me if I said there have been over ten so far?”

“Well, yes? Have you seen our sister? She is the most beautiful débutante of the lot! They would be foolish not to secure a formal introduction with her, especially when the competition is tight. Each word spoken is one step closer to joining the family, Brother.”

Yunho opened another letter from the big pile on his right. “As if I would let those deuces in the vicinity of our sister. That is a very distasteful approach, I must say… Letters? What do they take me for? A man who remembers every single face I come across… Just take a look at this!”

Dear lord Jeong,

I pray this letter finds you in excellent health and high spirits.

I shall be curt and consistent in my writing. The news of Miss Lee making her debut in society has captivated all of London and I, too, find myself among the gentlemen bewitched by her beauty. Though I am not the first nor the last to seek you out in regard to Miss Lee, the urgency of my sentiments outweighs my concern for the multitude of letters that clutter your study.

It is said Miss Lee’s grace and elegance surpass the high expectations of Her Majesty. Whispers swirl the ton that Miss Lee has secured the esteemed title of the Diamond of the First Water, and I must confess, it is indeed quite fitting, rendering her all the more desirable. As you well know, Miss Lee embodies a kindness and warmth unmatched by her fellow débutantes and is a great trait for nurturing offsprings, a prospect with which I wrestle most ardently. The gentleness and affectionate nature of Miss Lee is to be guarded and protected from the vile eyes of the inappropriate gentlemen and as a frequent patron of the pugilistic club, I stand ready to defend her purity. This, I give you my word for. 

Each new piece of information adds admiration to her character and one cannot help, but ponder what further attributes Miss Lee may possess. I am but an intrigued gentleman who marvels at Miss Lee’s mere existence and I harbor a desire to peruse the remaining chapters of her story.

It would be my utmost privilege to make the acquaintance of Miss Lee. Might we arrange an introduction at His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte’s ball to deliberate upon a potential courtship?

Yours truly–

The paper was torn to bits before Wooyoung could catch the name of the sender. Although he had to agree the choice of words was improbable, he could argue Yunho’s protectiveness was the main reason as to why none of the letters were approved either. Finding you a possible suitor would be harder than anticipated if Yunho did not let up on his hostility, and as your other brother, Wooyoung made it his mission to help you.

“Perhaps I could help you look through the letters after the ball, but it is best you give it a rest now and get dressed, Brother. I doubt Mama would be delighted to know her eldest is the last to be ready considering your title.”

Heeding his words, Yunho slid the rest of the envelopes over the desk and into his first drawer before disappearing into his bedroom. A similar suit jacket to Wooyoung’s hung over his wardrobe, ironed and ready to be put on along with the rest of his attire. It seemed everyone in the Jeong household was to dress in the colors of love, passion, and anger. The guests and hosts attending the balls Yunho was invited to were usually clad in mild colors and he had yet to witness someone come in a starker hue of red, green or blue. He was well aware of his mother’s schemes. You already garnered enough attention with the simple flick of the Queen’s wrist, and Ireum was a smart woman for playing further into that act. Keeping the curious flame of the ton alive by giving you the most breathtaking dresses the people were going to see. Nothing was to halt Ireum from finding her daughter a perfect suitor, with or without the viscount’s permission.

🎼 Descending down the few steps of the carriage, you held a fair amount of your gown while the other hand was clutching Wooyoung’s open palm. The Jeong family was neither early nor late, although it did not matter whichever because people sought after your arrival. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the débutante evoking a pleased reaction from the Queen. They wanted to see for themselves if your beauty was truly unmatched. 

Yunho was the first to exit the carriage followed by Ireum, Wooyoung and lastly you. After your feet met the ground again, Wooyoung delicately passed you onto Yunho. Entering high society meant replacing your simple ballerinas with low-heeled shoes, something you had yet to grow accustomed to.

“Please, do not let go of me,” you whispered and held tightly onto Yunho’s bicep.

“I do not dare dream of it, Sister. In fact, you will not leave my sight this wonderful evening at all.”

Yunho met the eyes of a dozen lust filled men, some of whom could not even keep their tongues from straying past their lips. These were supposed to be chivalrous gentlemen, he thought and scoffed. It was no doubt the red attire — besides your beauty — was making them act ungraciously. Your gown was lengthy and stuck to your waist perfectly, revealing your ample bosom and collarbones. A ruby and gold amulet was sown into the middle of the neckline and you were certain people would not be able to decide what to look at more, your cleavage or the pretty gem. You absolutely loved the color, a deep red reminding you of the stunning roses growing outside your windows or the fresh cherries that were soon in season. The rest of the fabric hung loosely around your legs, granting you the freedom to move more steadily without the fear of falling over. Your shoulders were covered and bejeweled with rosettes and pearls matching those around your neck and ears. To shield you from the summer breeze, the modiste had gifted you a knitted cardigan that you looped your arms through. Ireum insisted on doing your hair as she had done so for many years and learned to style it the way you loved it.

Crossing the short walk to the entrance of Park Manors, you were in awe at the beauty of it all. Disregarding the decorations, the inside was not much different from your own residence; spacious, tiled flooring and high ceilings, a few paintings and statues to liven up the place, even a few flower pots. But as Seonghwa was hosting the season’s opening ball, he made sure to enrich the place with the most outstanding decorations the ton would see. Big hydrangea bushes were planted by the stairs, the different shades of lavender, violet and purple continuously wrapping around the railings and leading the people through the mansion. The walls were a beautiful tapestry of cream white that gave much space to work with any colors the duke wished for, and by the look of the interior, he had chosen all the hues falling under the category purple. Following the stream of people, you and Yunho found yourself standing in the main hall, a big space leaving room for both dancing, socializing and tasting the savory pastries on the sides. 

“This is wonderful,” you said under your breath and kept your eyes on the enormous chandelier suspended in the center of the ceiling. Under the lightning ornate was an orchestra stationed, already playing a pleasant melody as the guests strolled in one after another. 

Yunho hummed in reply and led you to stand by one of the many windows draped over with a lilac curtain. It seemed to be the safest place for the time being, squashed between him and Ireum, whilst your other brother had already managed to snag a glass of champagne and a tart of some kind.

“I do not appreciate the staring, mother.”

“It is expected, my dear,” Ireum answered, completely overlooking Yunho’s unease. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze of comfort. “We shall let them come to you, my ruby.”

As the music took a quick turn from a mellow to a more festive tune, the gentlemen around you pursued the débutantes for a dance. You perked up at the thought of being asked to dance and could nearly not contain your excitement. A suitor of sturdy height and dark hair had kept his eye on you since your arrival and mustered up the courage to advance with the aid of a much older woman you recognized as Lady Kang. She bowed, which all three of you returned.

“Lady Kang, good evening,” Ireum greeted and smiled politely.

“Good evening, Lady Lee, Miss Lee and Lord Jeong. I believe you have not yet met my nephew, Lord Yoon. Nephew, this is Miss Lee, Lady Lee and Lord Jeong.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“Likewise,” you replied and smiled charmingly. He did not look bad, not at all. His suit was elegant too, and he had a cute pair of eyes, very warm and welcoming.

Yunho, being overly observant and on edge since stepping foot in the Park estate, acted with haste. “Lord Yoon, is it not? I believe I do find your name familiar… Ah, right! You are familiar with the fencing club, correct?”

“Very much indeed, Lord Jeong.”

“It is a shame you have not visited in quite some time… Does it perhaps have to do with your failed payment issue? Or was it for acting unruly after conceiving one too many drinks?”

Despite the festive melody surrounding the two families, the atmosphere had thickened at Yunho’s revelation. Lord Yoon was left gaping with red cheeks giving your dress a run for its money as you took a turn about the room, arm hooked with Yunho’s. Ireum was left to deal with the stunt her eldest had caused, apologizing for Yunho’s curt tongue.

“I did not realize…” You began and glanced down at the shiny floor to hide the embarrassment tinting your cheeks.

“It is not easy, dear Sister. But that is precisely why I am here… and Wooyoung too, but we shall not rely all that much on him as of now.”

Yunho steered you in the direction of Wooyoung still standing by the treats, passing all the mamas and débutantes swooning at his presence, not indulging in them for a fraction of a second. Yunho was not interested in courting a lady and would not do so in the vast future either, he had too much on his plate to seek out a perfect candidate to be his wife! You were his main priority now and God help him if you landed in the hands of someone unworthy, like Lord Yoon, for instance. Creasing and plastering on an overly wide smile, you and Yunho walked past the entrance, missing the arrival of three very handsome gentlemen who stole the attention of every lady inside, single as well as married.

Hongjoong was not used to being under the spotlight. No one would think twice to look at him, let alone whisper about his handsome looks and wish he would ask them up on a dance. Then again, this was not his setting at all. Fancy suits, pretty ladies and interiors worth a sum he did not dare to imagine. At least the music was to his taste, he thought and mentally applauded the orchestra for their skilled fingers managing to handle the instruments correctly. Of course they would, they had all the means for it. Envy climbed up his back and threatened to seep into his bones, but the firm weight of San’s hand on his shoulder brought him out of the jealous haze.

“This is…” 

“I know. It is rather overwhelming,” Hongjoong admitted and nervously caressed the front of his white vest. His whole attire was brand new, a little something whisked together by the ton’s modist — a sweet and peculiar man with kind eyes and a soft spoken tone. They were lucky Jongho’s social circle was quite grand otherwise they would have never made it past the gates of Park residency, let alone see the shimmering insides of chandeliers and diamond ornaments.

“Brothers,” Jongho’s deep yet smooth voice called for their attention. How and when he managed to obtain two glasses of champagne was beyond Hongjoong, but the proletariat in disguise did not care as he grabbed the stem of the overly light champagne flute. “Let us be entitled gentlemen for the night.”

The statement was ironic, if something. Out of the three, Jongho was already a gentleman, but the aspiring musician did not correct him. If the owner of Precious wanted to play pretend, then Hongjoong was going to display the best act of his life.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth sharp and his eyes playful as he clinked the edge of his glass with the others, “Let us.”

The intrigued gazes of the remaining guests were not as overwhelming as Hongjoong first thought. After some time, he, along with the Chois, blended in with the rest of the crowd. They stood a bit from the dessert table and snickered at the aristocats under the guise of looking at the sweets. Hongjoong understood why Jongho chose to not socialize with them. Everything they did, from talking to simply existing, was pretentious. 

“Do you do this often?” He eventually asked.

“Laugh at the upper class? Yes.”

“No, I meant this.” Hongjoong gestured to the ballroom. “Attend balls and other events.”

“Ah… Well, not precisely. Although I am an Earl, Hongjoong, it does not grant me invites to every social gathering. I am here merely because I am an acquaintance of the host.”

“Where is the man of the hour, anyway? Should the host, I do not know, maybe tend to his duties?”

“His Grace is full of surprises. Everything he does is unexpected. Who knows, perhaps he will not even show, but I do doubt that. It is said he is intending to marry this season.”

Another entitled prick added to Hongjoong’s never-ending list of arrogant nobles. Sipping on the bubbly champagne that left a sour taste on his tongue, he watched as a new round of waltz lured the gentlemen to the waiting ladies. Soon enough the room was in full swing and truthfully, it was making him dizzy. All the spinning and changing partners and maintaining the beat—what an exhausting activity. The people standing on the sidelines, much like Hongjoong, enjoyed the festivities of the ball and he wondered if they had nothing better to do than eat sugary treats, gossip and fantasize about romantic endeavors. Not that he could be one to complain, his free time was spent writing poems and music sheets, more precisely piano scores. 

🎼 As the current round of dancing came to an end, the orchestra stopped their performance, making everyone turn their heads in confusion. Their questions were answered as a pair of white doors separated and someone of high status, Hongjoong presumed, entered through simultaneously as the violinists of the orchestra drew their bow across the strings of the instrument. He was mid-sip when the whole room erupted in gasps and murmurs of awe, startling him and having a gulp of bubbly champagne slip into the wrong pipe. Throwing a hand over his mouth to lessen the violent coughs, his eyes widened to the size of the duke’s saucers as they fell on an elegant man knocking the wind out of everyone. It did not matter how well-dressed Hongjoong was or what kind of attire the modiste brought out, no one could match up against–

“His Grace the Duke of Beaumonte!”

Hongjoong could not believe what he was seeing. The duke was simply a flower and every lady, along with their mama, were bees eagerly waiting to get a taste of his pollen. Loyal to the theme, he decided to dress in a velvet suit the color of moonvistas and wisterias. The white damask pattern on the vest was divine and matched his cravat and gloves. Every corner of the room erupted with ‘Your Grace’ as the man passed them, exchanging polite smiles, but not lingering any longer than necessary. What a presumptuous bastard, Hongjoong thought and masked his disgusted scoff with another cough.

The hundred pairs of eyes burned into the body of the duke, never letting him out of their sight, but Hongjoong could not bother to keep looking at him. The host was vexing the green monster inside of him by existing. It was incredible how the toss of a coin pre-birth could determine the outcome for the rest of one’s life. The title was passed down to the duke because of the time and place of his birth. That could have been Hongjoong, San or even Jongho had they come out of the duke’s mother instead.

“Perhaps we should greet His Grace?” San suggested and adjusted his cravat.

“You really believe that would be a wise thing to do? I mean, those hounding him are mainly ladies. What socializing topic could we have to offer him? Perhaps indulge him in your boxing club or– Oh, I know, I can share some of my work and see if he will hire me as a pianist!” The sarcasm did not go misheard and San deflated at the hostility lacing Hongjoong’s voice. The elder quickly regretted his harsh words and patted his friend on the back. “I am deeply sorry, San. That was unjust of me.”

“All is well. It was a foolish suggestion anyway.”

Before Hongjoong could reprimand him for his chastising demeanor, Jongho cleared his throat. “I could formally introduce you. I am quite close to His Grace, after all.”

“You never told me of your connections with a duke?!” San whisper-yelled into his cousin’s ear. “Now you must introduce us, see it as your payment for being dishonest.”

Sighing, Hongjoong replaced his empty glass with another full one. If he was going to turn his nobility act up a notch, he would need more alcohol in his system. Mimicking Jongho’s stance, Hongjoong and San straightened their postures and formed their expressions to make it seem as if they were of important background, all while feigning joy from attending the event. Despite being the shortest of the trio — courtesy of Hongjoong’s heeled shoes making him a few inches taller — Jongho took the lead and maneuvered through the sea of people.

“Your Grace!” He called and the swarm of ladies gathered around the duke dispersed with annoyance dragging their features. 

The stoic expression of the duke lit up brighter than the chandelier above his head. “Jongho! I am delighted you could come!” The men sealed the greeting with a firm handshake, both sporting wide smiles and stars glinting in their eyes. It was one thing to drop formalities with an underdog, but to be on first name-basis with a duke was so foreign to Hongjoong’s ears.

“I hope Spain has treated you well?”

“Certainly it has. Very beautiful weather and polite people. I wish to return after the social season… Possibly with my future wife if everything goes as planned.”

“And I am sure it will. You are the Duke of Beaumonte after all, it should not be a harder task than the piles of paperwork you have worked through in your life.”

Seonghwa let out a hearty laugh. “No, it should not, but I do want a genuine lady and not someone who is after my title. Perhaps, if I am bold enough, I may even hope for a love match.”

“I would not put it past you, Park. Anything can happen while the season is still in bloom.” Jongho winked and sipped on the champagne. The clearing of San’s throat diverted the conversation to the pair standing slightly behind Jongho. “Yes, of course. Your Grace, may I introduce my cousin, San, and our very good friend, Hongjoong."

“Well, gentlemen, I hope the evening is up to your taste.”

“It very much is! I adore the theme and colors of the decorations, it is very soft and not flamboyant as most balls are,” San admitted and although he did not have anything to compare it to, he was genuine with his compliment.

“Thank you! I deemed it most fitting to decorate everything in my favorite color, as you may have noticed on my suit.”

“Yes! A very el–”

“If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom,” Hongjoong interrupted. The duke had not done anything particular to upset him, he was simply not in the setting to discuss the elements of the interior while he would later return to his rundown bedroom in the basement of San’s boxing club.

“Of course. Take left in the hall followed by the second turn on your right, continue on the path and turn on the first left, and you shall find the restrooms. Do not worry if you get lost on your way, there are servants and guards roaming the halls so feel free to ask for directions.”

All Hongjoong heard was, ‘Do what you want as long as you do not get caught.’ With his disappearance, the duke excused himself for a moment and took a turn around the room. It was lovely seeing familiar and genuine faces, not just people showing up out of curiosity or interest for Seonghwa’s business. Jongho was one of the few nobility he could stand and actually enjoy the company of without fearing possible ulterior motives.

You bowed to your dancing partner, an Earl you could not bother to remember his righteous piece of land, and returned to the safety of Yunho.

“Did he step on your toes?”

“No, Brother.”

“Then why did you make such a horrid face mid-dance?”

You contemplated whether to share the fragment of conversation between you and Lord Emberstorm that pulled on the corners of your mouth, estimating how furious Yunho would be after hearing what distasteful words stumbled out of the Lord’s mouth. Deciding to keep it a secret for you to bear and your diary to hear, you offered a bright smile and averted the topic elsewhere. 

“I am quite parched, Brother. If you will excuse me–”

An imitation of a cough halted you mid sentence, and you hastily turned around, expecting to be met with another request for a dance. What you did not expect to see was–

“Mister Song!” If it were not for the public setting, you would have your arms wrapped around the gentleman’s neck and cheek mushed against his. Instead, you settled for a simple nod of your head and a foot of space between your bodies. 

“Miss Lee, what a blessing to stumble upon you here.” The underlying tone of amusement did not go unheard. 

“Certainly it is, Mister Song. Have you finally come out of your cocoon to find the perfect eligible lady or are you still running from them?” 

“The world would not be spinning if I was intending to marry.”

You broke out in a fit of giggles, uncaring for the weird stares and whispers set off around you. At the end of the day, everyone dear to you knew of your and Mingi’s sturdy friendship. You harbored a love that was frowned upon considering your closeness despite being of opposite genders.

There was a point in your lives where both pairs of parents considered Mingi to be a perfect suitor and you to make a wonderful wife. You were perhaps five years of age and they considered the blooming friendship to grow past the platonic stage and into something more romantic, but with your father’s passing and Yunho taking over the role as viscount, your brother abolished the arrangement. The Songs did not take kindly to that and nearly burned the bridge you and Mingi built since childhood. Yet more than a handful of years later and you were still as close as ever. Besides, Mingi was not like the other boys you knew of. He was kind and soft and genuine, despite his big build and long legs always making him the most fearsome in the room, he could never spread evil onto anybody, even if he tried to. Mingi was the purest form of life you had ever seen and you could not understand what others saw in him to picture anything, but a shield of comfort and warmth.

The idea Mingi proposed after your thirteenth birthday — that if neither of you were married after your twenty-fifth year alive, you would marry each other mainly for the purpose of survival and an easy life — was proof of his kind nature and good willed heart. Though, to say you were appalled was an understatement. You immediately declined his proposition despite him providing you with a further explanation. It was first when he revealed the secret tucked far away in his chest, hidden behind his many ribs and lungs, and locked in the depths of his pumping heart, with the thought that it shall never see daylight that you allowed him to speak. In the end, perhaps you only agreed to it because he admitted you were the only woman he could consider himself to marry. The pact was sealed with a handshake and your promise to keep secrecy until soil covered your putrefying body. 

A love with Mingi was not horrifying compared to a long life with a stranger because a love with Mingi could never go beyond that of a friendship as he did not fancy women.

“Mister Song.” Yunho stepped out from his place behind you, arms behind his back and a soft smile on his cupid lips. 

“Luh… Lo– Lord Je… Uhm! Lord Jeong,” Mingi stuttered out a response. All of the blood in his body gathered beneath the skin of his cheeks as if the sun kissed him in the morning and left him cursed for all of eternity. It was painful to witness, but it was even harder to watch as your brother was oblivious to the flushed mess standing before him, barely keeping his wits together.

“I admire your suit. You shine everyone else down.”

Mingi’s eyes were so devoid of expression you could see the light reflecting in them as he held Lord Jeong's gaze, then glanced down at his clothes and back up at Yunho. Could it be that the viscount was indeed attempting a most audacious flirtation?

“What?”

Yunho chuckled at his dumbfoundedness and had to cover his mouth to avoid garnering too much attention from the people around them. He and Mingi were nothing more than acquaintances tied together through you. They never had the opportunity or perhaps interest to form a friendship and it was mainly because of their different ranks in society. While Yunho became a viscount at an unimaginable young age, Mingi was still in line for the title and had no real task beside scouting his father and gathering as much information as possible. Mingi was undoubtedly still a child in Yunho’s mind and the thought was bitter on his tongue, like the coffee grounded from the beans imported from India. 

The elder said nothing more. He pressed his lips into a taunting smirk, eyes relaxed and focused on Mingi despite everything moving around them in a haste enough to have their heads spinning of nausea. 

Sensing the air thicken and turn warmer around the men, you gingerly moved without disturbing their quiet conversation conveyed through the windows of their souls. It was not encouraged to venture into an event without a chaperone as whispers quickly traveled around the ton, especially concerning a lady who made her debut not twenty-four hours ago. Walking with your head still on the tall pair, you did not see the figure standing in your way until a collision occurred.

“Pardon me–” The words died in your throat as icy eyes belonging to no other than the duke cut into your core. Scrambling to restore your dignity, you swallowed the thick clump of anxiety and sputtered out an apology. Meeting the duke by carelessly bumping into him on the first ball of the season was not on your agenda. Making a fool of yourself was certainly not an achievement you fought to attain either. “Your Grace, pardon me for my inattentive behavior!”

A hum, dare you say not of disgust, reached your ears. You looked up and came to view with a dazzling smile that spread an assuring warmth through your body. The fear sticking its claws into your back melted and you straightened back up again. 

“It is quite alright, Miss…?”

“Ah…" You curtsied perfectly, "Miss Lee, sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It may have been the stark light of the chandelier or one of the many cherry tarts you consumed through the night, but you were certain a spark of recognition flashed across his face. You would not name it eerie, but it was on the edge of being unsettling how long he was staring at you. On cue, the orchestra played another song and people gathered in pairs to participate in the dance. Seonghwa cleared his throat and let his palm face the ceiling, steady and determined. Everyone kept their sights on the duke, and as he was standing in front of you, a promising position that could only mean one thing, it made you be in their center of attention too. A sudden dread settled in the pit of your stomach. Taking a quick glance around the room, you meet the burning glares of mamas and their daughters, as well as the disappointed looks of various gentlemen. The feeling of being perceived was uncommon and your thoughts simmered and eventually began bubbling erratically with questions of what-ifs. You were ready to take your leave, to excuse yourself and run to a place secluded from everyone and their prying eyes and judging whispers. 

“Miss Lee,” Seonghwa started and brought forth a pencil from his breast pocket. You were by no means a fortune teller, but there was no doubt in your mind he was going to ask you for a dance. The question leaving his mouth seconds after made you consider opening a magic shop on the other side of London. “May I have this dance?”

If Yunho was anywhere near you and not distracted by Mingi’s cute, rambling mess, he would have pushed you straight into the duke’s arms. To your relief, Yunho was occupied with Mingi’s questions about being a viscount to even consider what his dear sister was up to. The consent was expected to roll off your tongue and disappoint the gentleman, but anger the ladies.

“You must excuse me, Your Grace! I seem to hear my brothers calling for me!”

Your legs moved faster than your sight, and you nearly bumped into an elderly couple. Flustered and sweaty, you whispered out a hasty apology and ran toward a room you deemed to have the least amount of people in it. Seonghwa managed to utter as much as a breath before you were gone, lost between the sea of people and walking in the opposite direction of your brother. While he was supposed to feel irrevocable annoyance at your dishonesty, he could not stop the amused smile from lingering on his face. You were quite a peculiar lady, he thought and exhaled a strong gust of wind. If the duke was charmed by your beauty earlier that day, he was more than intrigued now. 

Running around unchaperoned on your first night as an eligible woman was not appreciated by the mamas standing uncomfortably close to their sons. Their judgmental glares stemmed from a place deep within, from a place of concern over what kind of woman their sons would take interest in. It said plenty to see you alone, neither of the Jeong brothers nor that mother of yours that married twice by your side. They do say the apple does not fall far from the tree. No one wanted to welcome a woman carrying the curse of death in her purse with open arms only to later bury their son six feet underground. 

Out of respect for your family’s name and honor, but also to protect your own feelings, you stumbled up the big beautiful staircase by the entrance and turned left and right until you were alone with the walls and striking interior to keep you company. If Yunho got a whim of what you were doing, he would be beyond furious. Instead of socializing downstairs, you opted to hide out in one of the many rooms upstairs. You could already hear his patronizing voice in the back of your mind, asking you how you thought to be courted if you were out of sight for the majority of the night. Would you expect a suitor to fall through your bedroom ceiling? 

🎼 Yunho’s nagging came to an end as a faint melody filled the silent hallway and sailed your thoughts elsewhere. Caught in its waves, you followed the mellifluous notes. If you were a sailor, then the player was a siren guiding you to your demise with their lulling melody. The further you walked, the louder the sound became and you recognized it as piano notes. Each press of their fingers on the keys was a chord striking along with your heart and your own fingers itched to dance along the white and black surface. The long hallway led to many different rooms, all of them shut except one with its door ajar and a string of light cutting across the tiled floor. 

You moved slowly, afraid to accidentally touch the door or disturb the mystery musician, and peeked through the tight opening. Out of all the impressive things you had witnessed that evening, this room would forever be engraved in your memories. In the center of the room by the big window sat a man in front of a dark oak piano, breathing life into the silence. All you could see was his back, a suit the color of snow, and caramel hair reaching his shoulder blades. What a peculiar style for a gentleman, you thought. 

Instruments were placed into every nook and cranny of the room. Guitars, violins, cellos, the pianoforte. This was everything you could ever ask for. You were not aware of His Grace‘s interest in music, perhaps your brother could formally introduce you to the duke later. Looking past the expensive equipment, you took in the room for what it was. The walls were a deep red contrasted by the champagne-carved details on the tapestry and rosewood furniture filled the room, everything from bookshelves to uncomfortable-looking desks and chairs, even a few sofas here and there. As every room of the Park manor seemed to have, even this one was lit up by a chandelier — albeit smaller than the one in the main hall — in the center, right above the pianist. 

He was on the last segment of the melody and you slipped into the room quiet as a mouse stealing cheese from the pantry, but stayed close to the door where the man could not see you until he had turned around. The song was beautiful, far better than anything created by the professional orchestra downstairs. This man was a proficient player and you wondered if you too could have been this talented if your mother had not established the foolish rule in the Jeong Household. 

As the man pressed his fingers on the keys and let them linger until the last notes vanished to silence, your feet got caught on the end of your dress, sending you tumbling forward. Blessed be the chair in your way as it saved you from falling in front of the pianist. The screech of its legs was so thunderous and sudden that it had the man jumping from his seat as if physically burned by the keyboard. The clash of your eyes froze you in place. Not only was his playing enchanting, but his appearance deserved a place amongst the many portraits hanging on the walls. The pianist you had yet to learn the name of was the most handsome man in all of London and you believed he even challenged the duke for his looks. The silence stretched on and your face burned hotter than the fireplace in your living room. Upholding your image, you brought forth your hand and cleared your throat just enough for you to hear. 

“Eh– Excuse my intrusiveness, Mr…!” 

Despite the fear swimming in his eyes and his heart thumping louder than the music downstairs, Hongjoong schooled his expression into that of a relaxed man. You did not seem to have any ill intentions in mind, but he could not take his chances. For all he knew, you could be of great relation with the duke and have him arrested for trespassing. His music playing was not meant for anyone to hear or see. He did not think anyone would be as foolish or brave as him to explore the second floor in spite of it being a restricted area for the evening. Hongjoong hid his sweaty palms in the smooth pockets of his trousers and slipped on a — hopefully — charming smile. 

“You may call me Hongjoong.”

An unchaperoned lady in the presence of an eligible man in a secluded area far from the party downstairs was a risk you could pay for the rest of your life. A barque of frailty, cyprian, doxy, a light-skirt were only some of the vile words that came to life anytime Ireum stepped out of the confines of your home after the passing of your papa and you wished not to know what insults you would be addressed with. Although you did not witness it, you knew it weighed heavily on her. To hear the other mamas speak poorly of her and criticize her parenting, all for being brave enough to search for another love. It was unfair. Ireum’s past was fresh in your memory, but apparently you gave it no heed as you did not run from the man standing in front of you, his hair wild and uncommon and eyes carrying a gleam of adventure. To call a stranger by his name was no better than shaking hands with the devil and your brother would have your head for it, but what Yunho did not know could not harm him. 

Pulling your lips into a polite smile, you scribbled your name on the imaginary paper and handed it back to the red figure with sharp horns and a pointy tail. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Huh–” You cleared your throat and ignored the flare of your cheeks. “Hongjoong. As I mentioned, I apologize for interrupting. You play a divine tune on the pianoforte.”

Hongjoong turned scarlet at the compliment. Praise was foreign to his ears. Yes, he was constantly showered with love and gratitude from San, but it could not be compared to hearing the words come from a pretty lady of presumed high status. 

“It is alright… Thank you, Miss–”

“Miss Lee. You may perhaps have heard of me, I am the sister of Viscount Jeong.”

It was no surprise all members of the ton were the same, they bled arrogance more than anything else. How pompous of you to think he would know of your name or origin, if only you would have known how many foreign faces Hongjoong had set eyes on. His lips set into a thin line and the fear swimming in his eyes was swallowed by sheer annoyance. “I cannot say I have… To be frank, I am not from this part of the country, nor am I familiar with the duke either.”

“Oh…” You squeaked, only then realizing how improper that sounded. “Well, please, pardon me for my pretentiousness. It was quite naive of me to assume such a thing.”

In the span of less than five minutes, you managed to surprise Hongjoong three times. The simmering emotion threatening to bubble over calmed within him and he did not understand why. Perhaps it was your sincere apology or the way you cowered in on yourself, or it was simply Hongjoong’s mind taking pity on pretty, young girls. Nonetheless, he could see himself on the same podium as the gentlemen in the longhats chatting shit and sipping wine while doing nothing but sit on their rears all day. He was in the vicinity of a lady for all of five minutes and he already managed to sour the mood. Noticing you had not budged from your spot since entering the room and began fiddling with your fingers, he decided to play nice for once. Who knew, maybe it would bring him good fortune?

“Are you familiar with the pianoforte?”

“Hm?” 

He jutted his thumb out over his shoulder. “The pianoforte? Do you play it?”

The smile taking over your features could be described as the sun on a winter morning doing little to warm the earth, but enough to brighten the cold season. “Not precise, but I was very keen on learning it.”

A caramel brow shot up. You were? When did you manage to find and lose the interest in learning the piano? Musicians were one of the few who kept their hobbies alive for most of their lives. Not that Hongjoong had much knowledge on the way things worked in the ton, but was it not better for a lady to have more talents for a better chance of getting married?

“And it is safe to assume the interest died… because?” 

“It is quite the story.”

“I believe we have time.”

You heaved in a sigh and ran your palm along the front of your dress. “My papa had a big love for music and I, wanting to be just like him, harbored that same passion… He passed shortly after my seventh birthday and never got around to teach me…” You avoided Hongjoong’s heated gaze by bouncing your eyes all around the room. “The piano was a means for me to stay connected to him, but the melodies became unbearable for my mother. It brought her great pain just to see it in the common room every day. So… she decided to ban all and any music in the house…”

“My apologies, Miss Lee. I should not have asked–”

“It is not a difficult topic, so rest assured everything is alright. On the contrary, I am delighted you asked. I do not remember the last time I spoke of both my papa and our passion for playing.” 

Overthrown by the feeling of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong rounded the stool and occupied the left side, leaving a vacant spot on his right. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand.

“You will not leave me waiting, will you now, Miss Lee?”

The teasing tilt to his voice was an enchanting spell pulling your feet further into the room that you could not disobey and it sounded louder than the slow church bells in the back of your head. The heedless caution of leaving a safe enough space between you died faster than a daylily. You had already crossed every line drawn to protect your innocence from staining and it was still clear as a day. What harm could it bring to sit by a handsome pianist? Taking the seat beside him would leave no room for defense if anyone were to catch sight of you. 

Hongjoong noticed your reluctance and turned his torso facing you. “You are to do as you please, Miss Lee. I can not and do not wish to force you into anything… I do apologize if I am crossing any boundaries, it was not my intention.”

“See it as– as– as you asking me for a dance! I will even allow you to sign my dance card, if you will.”

Pushing the worry of being the main talk of the season to the back of your mind, you occupied the vacant seat and tried, with all your might, to ignore the burn of his thigh pressed against yours and the slight caress of your elbows. A heat warmer than on a summer afternoon grazed your bare arms. Picking your head up from the peculiarly interesting spot on the piano, you gazed into the wide eyes of Hongjoong that eventually creased as his lips curled cutely.

“That would be more than alright. May I?”

As his left hand reached for the pencil lying on the music stand, the other faced the high ceiling of the room. His slender fingers were far from elegant and soft, but rather rough and calloused, reminding you of the elderly men tending to your garden. Nonetheless, you let the dance card fall in his palm and watched as he in one long stroke signed the last vacant row.

“Shall we?” He played a major chord and you let a giggle slip past your lips.

You did not touch the wooden instrument or breathe during his performance. It was a melody too beautiful to do anything but bask in. You simply allowed the uplifting and bright sounds to wrap around the two of you, separating you from the party downstairs. Hongjoong was a different person while behind the piano, you noticed. He closed his eyes and relaxed, becoming one with the music. For a minute you got lost in the beauty of his passion and sensed his love for the instrument emerge from him like sunshine escaping the confines of a cloudy sky. As the last notes spilled out in the room, you quickly reverted your focus elsewhere, but unbeknownst to you, he felt your eyes on him throughout the whole song.

“If I may ask…” You broke the silence, hands intertwined and resting on your lap. “Who taught you to play the pianoforte?”

Hongjoong pressed down on a random set of keys and hummed along to the notes. “No one. I am… self-taught.”

The mystery man was leaving you shellshocked once again. The dozen pianists occupying the dance floor in the main hall were skilled players because of the money in their fathers’ pockets, but Hongjoong was not in need of a teacher.

Talent could not be forced, was what your papa used to say as you sat in his lap before the big instrument while your mama diligently fiddled with an embroidery frame on the other side of the room, her belly round and ready to welcome the growing baby any day. Your papa refused to pay for tutors. He claimed talent and passion ran in your blood and you were too good for a teacher even at the ripe age of three. The late Viscount Lee did not withhold the truth, but before your talent was given the chance to bloom it was put to rest alongside him in his coffin. However, listening and witnessing Hongjoong handle the piano with care and expertise rekindled the flame that died out years ago, and perhaps with the help of another, it could be polished and restored to what it once was.

Scooting closer to the gentleman and pushing your already accentuated chest between your arms — a manner you had witnessed Ireum do countless times while in disagreements with your father to get what she wanted — you executed the mischievous plan with gentle swats of your eyelids. “Such remarkable talent you possess, Hongjoong.” 

Honey to go with his tea was not an option for Hongjoong at the breakfast table, but he imagined it to taste as sweet as you sounded. It was almost hard to swallow his thickened spit as you beamed that sugary smile of yours. The bare night sky bore witness to your intimate moment and promised no rain pour for the foreseeable future, and Hongjoong could erase the thought of handing you his suit jacket — a means of protection from the droplets threatening to melt you at contact. Forgetting himself, Hongjoong hastily averted his attention back to the big instrument and cleared his throat, but could not hinder the stutter from latching onto his words.

“Th– thank you, Miss Lee.” 

Darting your tongue over your bottom lip as you contemplated your next move — a gamble that could set off Mingi’s proposition five years too early — you reached out and put your hand on his forearm closest to you. The man stiffened beneath your feathery touch and his fingers froze above the keys. This was not the outcome you expected. Hongjoong did not fall under the spell as the gentlemen did for Ireum’s vixen eyes and seductive touch, and your consciousness was halfway down the hole of regret and anxiety before you could play it off as brushing dust off his clothes. The fear of being reduced to nothing but a woman of easy virtue loomed over your head and you forced yourself to proceed with the plan.

“I must confess, a twinge of jealousy arises within me hearing you play. It would be marvelous to possess the ability to play the piano as you do…” The finishing touch was to slowly retract your hand and leave a tingling trail on the wake of his arm, and end it with a big, mournful sigh. 

“If it pleases you,” he slowly started and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. Being in that close vicinity of a man not belonging to your kin set off a wildfire spreading throughout your whole body. It did not help that Hongjoong was a very attractive gentleman who, thus far, had only shown you kindness. The layer of clothing suddenly became uncomfortable and you longed for a glass of water or a change of clothes, if not both. “...I would be delighted to demonstrate a few simple melodies.”

The act of a dejected woman disappeared and Hongjoong could bask in the light emitting from your bright smile and twinkling eyes. Perhaps it was the very reason he did not inquire about the sudden alteration in your demeanor and gave you a sincere smile of his own.

“Your kindness is most appreciated!”

The late Viscount Lee stood correct as your sponge of a brain absorbed every word Hongjoong uttered and mimicked his motions with utmost perfection. Playing the pianoforte was in your veins and it was a shame Ireum forbade it. Though if the circumstance was different, it would still not change the possibility of playing in public. If one woman did not stoop in your way, then your own female features would. A man with your talents would thrive in high society, but you would only be allowed to play in the confines of your home and even that you were not allowed. The human mind was a peculiar thing. When you finally got around your family and achieved the one thing making you happy, it was still not enough.

Hongjoong’s chuckle brought you out of your blue stupor. “You are a swift learner and possess notable talent at the pianoforte as well, Miss Lee. A most natural talent, if I may declare.”

“Thank you…” 

Greed and envy hid in the cracks of your gratitude, and had you gone beneath a knife your insides would bleed a poisonous green. The three melodies he taught you were certainly not enough to quench your insatiable desire, on the contrary. Having tasted a speck of your dreams made it hard to resist the yearn for the entirety of the feast. The youngest of the Jeong Household was not usually bold, but one might attribute it to Hongjoong’s welcoming nature and dazzling smile. Had the circumstances been different, if he had turned the other cheek and ignored your stumbling presence, you would have excused yourself and returned to the safety of your brothers. But he did not. Hongjoong entertained your curiosity and pointed out a branch of excitement you had no prior knowledge of. 

“Shall… “ You began quietly and cleared your throat. “Shall you be kind enough to teach me the art of playing the pianoforte?”

The grandfather clock ticking in the corner could barely be heard over your thumping heart. If you thought you crossed Hongjoong’s boundaries before, then you were certain you had done it now if the look of his wide eyes and parted lips were anything to go by. 

“I do admire your eagerness to learn, Miss Lee, but it would not be an ideal situation. You are a débutante and I am but a simple gentleman. Our gatherings would certainly garner unwanted attention and be in the way of you finding a suitable husband.”

“It would not be done in public!” 

Because if either of your brothers got whim of your absurd idea, you would not be allowed to leave the foyer of your house, let alone accompany him to more balls in search for a partner. 

Hongjoong still showed apprehensiveness, but you knew that the one thing no man could turn down — except ladies of the evening — was money. Everyone was always eager for more gold and you prayed Hongjoong was not an exception, as he had shown to be multiple times this night.

“An– And your services would not be free of charge, of course!”

The proposition was not bad, Hongjoong thought and raked his mind weighing the benefits and disadvantages. Teaching a presumptuous lady how to play the piano equaled pockets full of money, less dirty floors to scrub and him getting to practice on a real piano every once in a while. The downside of your brothers having his head on a platter would only come true if you were caught which did not sound too bad of a gamble. 

“The question remains of how we are to do this, Miss pianist?”

Too happy to care about the heat attacking your face, you held your hand out for him to shake. The warmth of his fingers burned through your glove and kissed the skin on your palm, a feeling that you soon would find reminiscing for days on end.

“Meet me by the big willow tree in Epiphany Garden two days from now and we shall further discuss our arrangement.”

With a nod of his head, the pianist waltzed straight into the agreement blinded by the shimmering coins floating before his eyes. The celebration was cut short as an eerily creak broke you apart. Both snapped your heads toward the sound only to witness one side of the double doors opened as if given a little nudge from the other side. Fear coiled around your feet and up your legs. You could not remember if you had closed the doors properly or not and your uncertainty did not calm the storm brewing in your abdomen. 

“Perhaps it is merely the wind,” Hongjoong suggested feebly, his words taking on the form of a sword and sliced the snake crawling further up your waist. What possible wind he could be referring to was beyond you, but it was easier to deny reality than fall into a spiral panic. Besides, who in all of London would prefer being upstairs than enjoying the presence of the duke down below?

Time scurried on without your knowledge, yet the loud clash of the grandfather clock striking midnight was not the cause of you parting ways. The harmless scare was enough of a sign to reclaim your designated position next to Yunho and not bat an eye at Hongjoong’s figure sliding through the crowd of guests seconds after your return. The forty-eight hours of waiting began as of now and it may have been the longest forty-eight hours of your life.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[peachhcs]

friendsgiving in michigan

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

because thanksgiving falls so late this year, samy manages to arrange a friendsgiving weekend with everyone up at the lake house and pulls off a guest surprise in the process

2.4k words

a thanksgiving special from samy & the crew + emma cooper mention from my other au (that i still haven’t worked on). wanted to put together something fun for thanksgiving so enjoy and happy turkey day!! 🦃

au masterlist

SAMY HUGHES

FRIENDSGIVING WEEKEND AT THE LAKE HOUSE?

WHO'S FREE? THINKING 24th-27th?

RYAN LEONARD

HELL YEAH I'M IN

GABE PERREAULT

ME 2

ARAM MINNETIAN

ME 3

DREW FORTESCUE

ME 4!

WILL VOTE

u think we can bring the hagens, stiga, and buium along too?

SAMY HUGHES

yes!!! bring them all we'll have a full house this year i'm so excited!!

julianne, emma, & tell zeev's gf they're all welcome too

hannah's coming up with me

JACOB FOWLER

can't wait to be back in mich for a few days

RYAN LEONARD

gonna be the best reunion can't wait

can smitty come by chance?

WILL SMITH

shit i have a game the 25th and 27th 😔

GABE PERREAULT

fuckkkkk dude

ARAM MINNETIAN

smitty will be missed 😔😔

WILL SMITH

wish i could be there i'll be thinking of u guys ❤️

the entire house was buzzing with people everywhere either catching up with one another, cooking, or playing video games. samy was busy in the kitchen making mac and cheese while ryan and gabe attempted to help with the turkey after being put to work by samy (even though they asked if they could help her with anything).

sometimes others would pop in to see how it was going or steal some of the food knowing they couldn't eat it yet, especially jacob and drew. those two were notorious for getting a dip of something and then hurrying back out of the kitchen before samy or hannah yelled at them.

the house was filled with a lot of warmth which the youngest hughes loved. people were only in the house over the summer, so being able to fill it with people during the winter really made the girl happy, especially since she hadn't seen the boys since summer ended anyway.

the only thing that was missing was will and what no one but samy knew was that he was on a flight over right after his game to surprise everyone. she kept checking her phone to know when he was almost there so she could go out and get him. the couple planned it a few days after samy asked everyone if they were free for friendsgiving and who didn't love surprises?

"this is actually so gross," gabe complained while buttering and seasoning up the inside of the turkey. his hands were deep under the skin slowly rolling the flavoring into the meat. ryan snickered.

"sucks you got stuck with that job," the brunette taunted.

"shut up, dude," gabe rolled his eyes and samy laughed to herself at their minor bickering. her phone buzzed against the counter and her eyes flew to the screen, smiling when she saw will's notification.

"hey, gabe, you mind taking over this cutting for a second?" the girl held the knife out to the boy and he sent her a relieved look.

"yes, thank god. i don't wanna do this anymore," he scrubbed his hands off and eagerly took the knife from her to finish cutting up her potatoes.

samy swiped her phone from the counter to read her boyfriend's message.

WILL SMITH five minutes away

the brunette grinned to herself. she slipped out of the kitchen and out the back door where no one would see her leave or catch sight of will coming in when he got there. a bubble of excitement grew in her stomach knowing she couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction.

will's uber rolled down the drive and the girl's grin got even wider as she waited in anticipation on the porch. the blonde climbed out, waving to her as he grabbed his backpack and hurried up the wooden porch.

"hey pretty," he smushed her into a hug as she breathed him in and took her moment with him before everyone else took his attention inside.

"it's good to see you. everyone's inside. they're gonna be really excited to see you," she nodded towards the door. will smiled, leaning down to place a kiss to her lips, also wanting his moment with his girl before the guys stole him away.

"i'm kind of nervous, is that weird?" the blonde chuckled to himself as his gaze drifted towards the house again.

"no, but don't be. they're gonna be really excited," samy rubbed his arm and then waited for will's cue that he was ready to go inside. he nodded and she slowly pushed the door back open where everyone's voices filled their ears again.

samy led her boyfriend back towards the living room where mostly everyone was. they were scattered across the couches, chairs, and floor taking turns playing mario kart and too invested to notice the boy's presence until will knocked on the entryway.

aram's head snapped that way first. his eyes widened in surprise, shoving everyone out of the way as he jumped up and bounded his way to the blonde.

"holy shit! smitty!" aram exclaimed and basically tackled the boy into a hug. his excitement caught everyone else's attention and a whole new eruption of commotion broke out.

"yoo! what are you doing here?!" ryan and gabe came in to see what was going on, eyes wide when they saw their old friend standing before them.

samy stepped back, letting the boys have their moment together. her heart warmed seeing them all look so happy and jump around like little kids on christmas morning.

soon they were chanting "smitty, smitty, smitty" and the girls laughed at their behavior. hannah nudged her friend's arm, "now how'd you pull this off?"

"we pulled a few strings to get him out here for a day before his game on wednesday," the brunette explained with a little smile, still watching the boys take turns hugging will.

she sometimes forgot how much they all missed him too even if they didn't explicitly say it all the time. it really showed watching them all embrace will and express how excited they were to see him and spend time with him even if it was just for tonight and tomorrow before he had to get back on a plane for his next game.

after another thirty minutes, everyone settled down again. samy was finishing up a few last minute things in the kitchen while everyone else helped set up the table and find extra chairs from around the house so everyone had a seat. will stuck his head in for a moment.

"hey," he caught her attention.

"hey, what's up?" the girl wondered.

"need any help?"

"maybe just arranging all the food so everyone can just come in and grab what they want for their plates," samy explained how she wanted the food on the counters, so will quickly jumped in to do it for her.

"thank you for this. it's really great getting to see everyone," the blonde smiled softly.

"of course. i'm glad you were able to make it out," she reached up to peck his lips. will leaned in more, wanting a better kiss when she pulled back. samy giggled and obliged his wishes by leaning across the counter to kiss him better.

"hey lovebirds, the crew is getting hungry," hannah poked her head into the kitchen which broke the couple apart in a small blush.

"tell them to come in with their plates. it's all ready," the soccer player giggled.

her and will let everyone go first down the line, the boys filling their plates high. it was a good thing she made a lot of food knowing how much hockey players ate. she came back into the dining room last taking a seat right by will near the end. ryan tapped his fork against the glass before everyone started eating to get their attention.

"i just wanna say how thankful i am for all of you and getting to spend this holiday all together for the first time in two years. a big thanks to samy and her brothers for letting us stay for a few days and another really big thanks to samy for getting will here with us," the taller brunette looked at the girl who flushed under all the attention. she felt will squeeze her leg and kiss her cheek.

"also a big thank you for making most of this food. it looks amazing," gabe added and everyone agreed.

"i'm just glad we were able to make this happen," samy grinned.

"alright, let's eat!" ryan exclaimed. everyone clapped and then started digging in, the conversations flowing across the room.

the boston boys took turns sharing stories from the semester so far and filling will in on everything he's missed. hannah and samy took turns talking about what's been going on at michigan and the successful season the women's soccer team has had. julianne chirped in with things from providence and zeev and his girlfriend filled everyone in about denver and arizona. it was nostalgic hearing about the different lives everyone had been living since being together in michigan.

it didn't even feel like two years ago that the boys were playing in the usntdp and samy was graduating high school, but it was and that thought was a little scary with how much time has passed.

halfway through dinner, julianne brought out the wine. it was popped open and the bottle was a quarter of the way empty by the time everyone got a glass.

"emma and olivia might be a little new to this, but samy and will would not admit their feelings until literally we left for college," aram said with a low chuckle. the girl's face flushed while will rolled his eyes a bit. his arm was draped across the back of samy's chair, his fingers rubbing little shapes into her shoulder.

"i can imagine," emma giggled.

"they were insufferable at dev program. so, so oblivious," drew shook his head.

"well, i wanna know how gabe and emma got together," hannah chirped up. the other couple exchanged a glance, smiling at one another and everyone shared knowing smiles.

"we took french together and i sucked at econ, so she helped tutor me," the darker-haired boy explained with a bit of a blush.

"he would not tell us he was seeing her, so we had to literally find out ourselves," ryan rolled his eyes a bit.

"you guys were just being nosy," gabe grumbled making the boys chuckle.

"or you were just being secretive. either or," jacob shrugged.

"whatever. let's talk about something else," gabe shifted the conversation away from him and emma who just giggled at the teasing.

they all talked for a bit longer before helping with the dishes and getting the food put away. a lot more thanks were thrown around to everyone and then it was just samy and will left in the kitchen together after she shooed the others out promising they did enough and didn't need to keep helping with clean up.

the couple worked in comfortable silence with will rinsing the dishes and samy putting them into the dishwasher. "thanks again for this. tell jack and quinn thanks too," the blonde hummed.

"i will. they gave me very strict instructions about not destroying the house," she giggled.

"just watch minnetian and leonard. when they get beer in their systems they go kind of crazy," will laughed too and both of their eyes flicked to the living room where the group retreated to.

"i hope we can make this happen again during winter break too. hopefully this won't be the last time i'll see everyone until summer," the blonde's lips turned into a small frown.

"i'm sure we can make something happen, don't worry. maybe we'll even plan a trip out to san jose to see you play at a game. at least leno, gp, and i will," samy assured. her boyfriend's lips flipped back into a smile at her words.

"i love you," he paused their movements for another kiss which she reciprocated. they connected their lips, tasting the remnants of the wine on one another's lips.

"will get in here! teddy's about to take your nhl high score!" ryan yelled from the living room, breaking the two apart. the blonde sighed a little, the interruptions reminding him of summer and never getting a second alone.

"be right there!" he called back.

he helped samy finish the dishes before pulling her into the living room with him. will took the empty chair and then patted his legs as samy's indication to sit in his lap. she flushed a bit before cuddling into the blonde's side and fitting into the chair with him.

teddy and drew were playing quinn and jack's nhl video game where will had the highest score—something he worked hard to build up over the years. the others giggled, a bit wine drunk watching the two boys battle it out on the screen together.

"i win! i win!" teddy jumped up and reached for the high fives.

"damn. who's next then?" drew wondered and will immediately raised his hand.

"i wanna keep my record," the boy handed him the controller where will reached his arm around samy's back to hold it with both hands. she giggled, finding a comfortable spot on the boy's chest to watch the tv.

gabe took the other controller and a few of the guys oohed seeing the two best friends matchup against one another. they spent the rest of the night switching between mario cart and the other sports games samy's brothers had. it wasn't until at least 3:30 in the morning when everyone went to sleep. they all wanted to spend as much time as they could together, especially with will since he was leaving the next day.

"hey samy?" gabe and ryan stuck their heads into the kitchen one last time before going to bed where the girl started the dishwasher.

"yeah?" she wondered.

"thank you for doing this and thank you for getting will here. best friendsgiving yet," ryan grinned making the girl flush.

"of course, guys. it was really good seeing everyone together," she brought them in for a quick hug. "now get some sleep. it's late," she pushed them back to the spare room, careful not to step on the others asleep throughout the house.

when she finally got up to her room, will was already fast asleep in her bed. she smiled at his sleeping figure, shutting the lights off and climbing in beside him.

even though he was asleep, he felt her presence and turned so he could wrap his arms around her frame in a strong hold. the youngest hughes cuddled herself into will's side, kissing his cheek and falling into a deep sleep.

[myokk]

HOLA! ❤️ First of all, dropping some kudos because I love you and your art so much (basically my blog can be your side blog too at this point!) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Second, from the character ask, I'd like to know about 3,4 and 20 for both Eloise and Leo 😁

Hope you have a wonderful day/night!

HOLA MI ITALIANA FAVORITA💓​ I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR ALL OF THE YAPPING I'M ABOUT TO DO🤭​ will this get you to finally visit me🥺​

I'm going to answer these for Eloise SINCE I already did 3 for Leo & I have someone asking me about 4 for Leo as well🥺💓

3) What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

This is a tricky answer…just bc my evil gremlin mc in the game has NOTHING to do with Eloise in my writing. I guess I would say her name? I was just thinking of what would be the most British sounding name I could think of when I started playing in December🙂‍↕️

But then my imagination took hold of me…I started thinking about Eloise’s backstory…and when I thought of how all of her family dynamics/how she grew up would influence her personality I started to be really dissatisfied with the game and the lack of choice we have while playing. SO I gave up on the game completely after the restricted section quest and started to use my free time to write my fic in January🥹🫶 but her backstory, personality, and role in my story are definitely the most interesting things about her to me!!

Bonus: my first ever drawings of her in January!!! Bad quality bc it’s an insta story screenshot😆💓 (I redid one for my fic🤭)

4) And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

Hmmmmm😭😭 I think her personality is what I struggled with the most and continue to struggle with as I write!!!! I always want her to feel like a *real* person with flaws, but ALSO convey to the reader why they should love her as much as I do. I think I’m successful bc I get comments/messages a lot from people telling me how much she resonates with them (and she’s some people’s favorite???😳💘) but I STILL CANT HELP BUT FEEL INSECURE ABOUT IT !!! It’s so hard sometimes keeping in mind how she is and how she thinks, and I never want her to be wishy-washy or doing things out of character for her. It’s a fun challenge but a challenge😭💓 (also her appearance changes like crazy in my art but whatever I’m learning😆)

20) bonus: share any additional thoughts, art, favorite scenes, anything you’ve been waiting for a chance to ramble about.

DES YOU REALLY WANTED ME TO YAP WHEN YOU SENT THIS MESSAGE😆😆😆😆😆

I really, REALLY want to yap about the foreshadowing and scenes I’m working towards in my fic BUT IVE ONLY TALKED TO LIKE ONE OR TWO PEOPLR ABOUT MY PLANS ( @choccy-milky & @kay9leo 🤭🤭) AND I DONT WANT TO SPOIL ANYTHING EVEN THOUGH I DONT HAVE MANY READERS😆😆😆😆😆😆😆 maybe in the future…

This is me redrawing the chess scene from my fic bc I’m really dissatisfied with how Seb looks in the original (he’s probably my LEAST FAVORITE TO DRAW BC IT���S IMPOSSIBLE !!!!!!!)

And ummmm….hmmm Eloise is DEFINITELY not a self-insert character to me, but I DID give her aspects of myself. Things like…we have the same birthday (January 31) and eye color (dark green), and I tend to overthink a lot and can be in my own head maybe too much, but I’m ALSO a lot more assertive and gremlin than she is😆😆😆😆 I love the fact that she’s so soft and sweet💓💓💓 & I just want to wrap her up in a big hug and never let go of her🥺🤲

(Imelda is my self-insert tbh…and this moment in my fic was ME😤:

At the sight of Imelda's worried face her throat contracted - Eloise found she couldn't speak - and she burst into tears again. They were rolling, hot and salty, down her cheeks and she hid her crumpled face back into the crooks of her arms. Imelda immediately wrapped her arms around Eloise, and she melted into her friend's embrace. Hands gently stroking her hair as she cried and cried and cried, murmurs whispered in soft Spanish to the top of her head.

She was overwhelmed, desolate, lonely.

I feel really bad for Eloise at this point in her story, but I also find it really interesting to keep poking her to see when she finally snaps and decides that she NEEDS to stand up for herself and what she wants. She hasn’t quite realized that she’s the only one who’s ultimately in charge of her life & I’m really really enjoying watching her become the person she’s meant to be🥹🫶🥹🫶

[phillietemple]

i’ve finally been able to collect some of my thoughts on the tour! under the cut if you want to read my yapping

- First of all we were really far away like almost all the way in the back of the balcony. We could still see the stage obviously but i couldn't really see their faces :( if i was doing it again i'd sit closer lol.

- The dolls were incredible. they really did all that

- Our conspiracies were toilet, clothes, tour bus and wedding which now that i've seen what the other ones are, i think was a pretty good combination. Tour bus was actually crazy like.. I mean i'm not too surprised that it was true but i AM shocked that they actually confirmed it! Like what!! I didn't even know about that conspiracy beforehand so yeah i was gagged

- They yapped for a minute about pizza. Phil hates cheese but loves pizza WHY it’s because pizza tastes like its own thing. One time dan PRANKED him by getting pizza with GOAT CHEESE on it and phil hated it. (phil’s wording lol, it wasn’t actually a prank) Also they said the best pizza they ever had was here in boston! And it had soy sauce on it apparently

- “Doesn't matter babe” did happen, i wasn’t sure if i heard it right but i was like “did he just say that?” i figured it was just part of the script but apparently not. I witnessed phistory

- They said “wang” so many times they LOVEDD the fact they were in the wang theater

- The fight was so funny i borrowed my friends binoculars for a minute so i got to zoom in on them slap fighting like 5 year olds and phil choking dan with a cable. why are they gay

- I SCREAMED when sister daniel came out like that was taylor swift levels of screaming from me. I knew that would happen but seeing her in the flesh was something else

- I appreciated how real they got. I think they balanced it with humor just the right amount but still went deep into stuff!

- the song was AMAZING it’s still stuck in my head and i’m gonna need that on spotify as soon as the tour is over. it was so clever to have it be from either perspective and the lyrics honestly made me cry!! but it was also such a banger!!!

This was kind of a schrodingers hard launch. They’re being open and honest about their relationship, but they also realize that a lot of the fun of the phandom IS the conspiracies and reading into things and the teasing. We have fun with it and they have fun with it, if they tell us everything then what’s left? It's like a sitcom that loses interest when the big will-they-won’t-they couple gets together. There’s a mutual understanding here, and the mysteries and intrigue are such a big part of the fun that we’re going to keep doing it. At least for now.

overall this show made me feel so happy to be part of the phandom. our parasocial relationship with them has been a rocky one, toxic at times, and at one point we thought it was so over but we are SO BACK. THEY LOVE US and WE LOVE THEM and we kinda need each other!! i’m so excited to see where they go from here.

[psychoticallykind]

He Was Learning

"Thankful" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 1,439 words

--------------------------------------------------------------

To be fair, Regulus had never claimed to be good at communication.

In fact, the only thing he had clearly communicated so far was that he was terrible at communicating. But James seemed to have an abundance of communication skills, of which Regulus was equally intimidated, irritated, and thankful. James had told him that it was alright, and they could learn together.

But now, when Regulus was snapping and overwhelmed and glaring at his boyfriend, it seemed a lot less alright. Regulus was half-convinced that James was about to break up with him, and that fear made everything more intense.

"If you don't want me there, then you can just say it. You don't have to make up some stupid story!" Regulus accused.

"I'm not -" James broke off and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. "Reg, love, I'm not making up a story. I would love for you to be there, I just said that you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"You said, 'I know you don't like these types of things, you don't have to come with me tonight'," Regulus crossed his arms. "Which is just another way to say 'I don't want you there, but I don't want to say that because it'll hurt your feelings'."

James shook his head with a helpless look. "Why would it mean that? Why wouldn't I want you to come with me? That doesn't make any sense."

"It makes perfect sense," Regulus argued. "And I already know it, so don't try to make me feel stupid or paranoid here! I know what you're thinking!" He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, blinking back tears. "I know I'm not sociable or friendly or nice to people. I know I'm awkward and they don't like me and then you have to spend the whole night telling people to be nice and that I'm 'not really like that', but I am! I am like that, I'm like this, and I'm sorry it's so terrible that you don't want me around your friends anymore!"

The tears were a lost cause. He elected to close his eyes, chest heaving as he tried not to fall apart any more than he already was.

He'd been thinking about this all day. That stupid conversation James had with Sirius - 'Regulus won't have any fun, he'll be too busy judging everyone else.' 'No, he's not like that.'

But he was like that. He was sarcastic and judgmental and he didn't like people, especially dumb people who had too much to drink and couldn't remember what personal space meant.

James hadn't even invited him this time. Regulus wouldn't have known anything about the party if Sirius hadn't brought it up. Because James hadn't invited him.

"Can I touch you?"

Eyes still closed, Regulus tensed at the question. But since James was James, and Regulus always felt safe with James, he nodded.

Soon there were warm hands on his face, gently wiping at the tears. "Do you think you can look at me, please?"

Regulus blinked his eyes open, took one look at the compassion on his boyfriend's face, got overwhelmed, and shut them again. "No."

There was a soft laugh. "Alright." The hands traveled down to his arms and gently urged them apart so that his hands were held in James's. "Regulus. I know that you're not sociable or outgoing. There is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with you, and if I thought for one second that you would want to go to the party or that you would enjoy it, I would have brought it up."

Regulus pressed his lips together in an attempt to not cry anymore. He managed to nod, but didn't trust his voice enough to speak.

"I like you. I know you. I'm not hoping or expecting you to be anything other than what you are," James said. Sincere, always so sincere.

Another nod.

Regulus stepped back, managing to open his eyes and glance at James as he forced his composure into place. "Thank you. I understand, I was just - I don't know what I was." He found a wall to stare at and focused on keeping his tone even. "It was thoughtful, James, thank you."

James was being so sweet, he was being ridiculous, and he needed to pull it together before James really did break up with him. "You should probably get ready to go, though. It's almost nine."

"Regulus."

"I'll just see you tomorrow -"

"Regulus." James stepped in front of him. "I'm not going to the party."

Regulus stared at him. "What?"

"I'm not going," James repeated. He watched Regulus's expression carefully for a few seconds. "Is that why you're upset? You thought I was going without you?"

The question made something hurt in his chest. "No." Regulus shrugged, looking away. "I don't care what you do." He turned away again. "In fact, I want you to go. Take a break from my horrible compan- James!"

His eyes widened as he was spun around, and suddenly he was faced with dark curls and compassion and hazel eyes he'd grown so fond of.

James offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, love, but if you shut down on me now you'll be miserable all week."

"I'm not," Regulus lied. "Because I don't care about this stupid party, and I don't care about you all that much, either."

The words were too sharp, too cold. Worse than he'd intended.

But James didn't flinch. "Well, I care about you. So take a deep breath for me."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but he did take a deep breath.

"Thank you." James ran his hands up and down Regulus's arms, adding grounding pressure. "Now let's say that hypothetically, you did care about me. And you maybe cared about the party."

"I wouldn't care about the party," Regulus grumbled.

"Okay," his boyfriend nodded. "Let's say that you cared about me going without you, then. How would you feel about that?"

Oh, he hated that. Feelings. Emotions.

"Hypothetically?" He checked. When James nodded, he shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. Bad, maybe."

James didn't say anything. He didn't need to - they'd done this a few times, and Regulus knew what that look meant.

What kind of bad? Can you tell me about it?

"I hate you," he informed James.

James smiled a little. "I can work with that."

"Hmph." Regulus shrugged again. "I don't know. Just bad. Bad like anyone would feel, I guess. No one likes being left behind."

"Is that what it felt like?" James asked gently. "Like I was leaving you behind?"

Regulus flinched, biting his lip with enough force to almost split the skin in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. "No."

Left behind.

Left.

He'd been so scared.

"Oh, love." James pulled him forward as he lost the battle, and he melted into the hug, sobbing quietly into James's shoulder as James rocked them back and forth. "I'm not leaving. I didn't mean to keep the party from you, I just didn't think about it. I wasn't planning on going, we've both had a long week and I knew you wanted a quiet night tonight. You're always wanted, Regulus. I always want you."

It took a while for Regulus to calm down enough to speak. He kept his arms wrapped around James and his head tucked down, breathing in eucalyptus and coconut from the hair potion he'd given James last week. "I don't hate you."

"Well, that's good," James mumbled. He didn't let go, and Regulus was grateful. He wasn't fully together yet, and if James stopped holding him together, he'd probably start crying again. "At this point, I'd hope that maybe you're a little fond of me, yeah?"

Regulus nodded into the fabric. "Maybe."

James laughed, bright and warm. "I'll take it."

Some more deep breaths. Steady rocking. Warmth and steadiness and the red fabric of James's t-shirt. "Do you think I judge everyone?"

"I absolutely do," James confirmed. "And I love listening to you talk about everyone. You're funny and observant and you're right pretty much every time you make a prediction about someone. I adore you, and I love that I get to hear all of your thoughts on the people around us."

"Even the mean ones?" Regulus had to check.

"Even the mean ones."

Regulus thought that over for a bit. "Okay."

James pulled back a little to look at him. "Yeah?"

Regulus nodded, giving James a small but genuine smile. "Yeah."

He didn't have any good communication skills. But he was learning.

Slowly, he was learning.

[ann0yed-b0yfriend]

You always have been a really nice girl, a good girl. But you ended up being my "friend".

Never smoked, never tasted alcohol, never kissed anyone.

Until you meated me.

I sensed... Something inside you. Something that you were hiding. Maybe the people around you didn't saw it, but I did.

I found out.

I wanted to break you free.

That's why i started to taking you out, as a "friend", of course, I wouldn't dare to taint you. Or at least, I wouldn't until you asked me to.

I showed you that alcohol can taste amazing if you mixed it properly, I showed you how to take it responsible even if we didn't.

I showed you that parties are fun, that there are a lot of good people here in the night, I introduced to my friends. They seemed to like you a lot.

Then finally, we shared a joint. That night was special, we both could feel it. You were extremely pretty, I could tell you wanted to look good just for me. I remember the sound of rain hitting the roof, I told you the sound would hide our laughs and coofs, so you smoked more and more. I teased you because you were coughing too much. I slowly started touching you, first was your thighs, then I touched your neck... Until I was high enough and couldn't help myself anymore. I said to you "let me help you get one more hit in" then, I holded the smoke in my mouth as I kissed you.

That night we did everything you asked me to.

Turns out you were the most perverted bitch I ever met.

Good girl.

I'm going to have so much fun with you.

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[seagulley]

a very polite animal very politely waits her turn at rally class.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Do you have any more ideas about the dead dove vampire!dickxtim au you wrote a while ago? It's lived in my head ever since and I'd love to know more.

first of all thank you so much that's so sweet! second of all, i have SO many ideas you have no idea. that fic ate at my brain for like a month before i found the time to write it so i had plenty of ideas i didn't fully explore. i'm adding a read more just bc. that was one of my more fucked up fics so i don't want to subject anyone to a necro kink jumpscare

so one of the big ideas i've thought about with that fic is Tim dealing with the aftermath of it, right. bc he's of course going to hide it from everyone. the Batfam all just neds to hold onto the hope that they can save Dick somehow, and knowing what Dick did would kill any lingering hope that there's anything left of Dick Grayson in the walking husk that he's become. so Tim has to deal with the worst of it alone, probably not even mentioning he ran into Dick.

the fun part tho is that above everything else, Tim wouldn't be able to let go of Dick's comment about fantasizing about Tim before being a vampire. Tim knows the comment was made just to get in his head, but that doesn't stop it from working. he spends hours pouring over old footage of him and Dick training, hanging out, on patrol, anything he can find. just to like. try to find evidence of Dick's gaze lingering. it eats Tim alive not knowing one way or the other if it was a lie. if it's true, at least it makes it easier for Tim to move on from the memory of Dick. but not knowing is worse. and he never finds anything that satiates the question so like. that'd destroy Tim the most. (the real answer is that Dick genuinely didn't feel attraction to Tim before being a vampire, *but* Dick is convinced he did bc being a vampire fucked him up so badly that he's become his own unreliable narrator. so it's both true and untrue, and in the end, it doesn't matter either way bc Tim is fucked up by the thought of it and even if they "fixed" Dick by curing him, i think Dick's romantic feelings would linger in the horror of what he did.)

i'm really just. in love with Dick's feelings toward Tim in the fic. the most difficult part of the fic was figuring out how to end it, bc sure as a sexual fantasy Dick is obsessed with killing Tim, but he's also deeply in love with Tim, so it's difficult to follow through on. Dick wants to make Tim a vampire more than anything, but he is genuinely worried about how well it'd take for Tim. the fic doesn't really go into who's on Dick's side as a vampire, but i personally believe he's turned most of the Titans. probably some of his own rogues as well, i could see him turning Slade. i can't explain why, those are just the vibes.

it is important to me just how much of Dick's feelings for Tim are based in him not wanting Tim to live under Bruce's thumb. like the whole vampire brain has convinced Dick that Bruce is somehow the villain in this, and it was Bruce's control keeping Dick from being the person he wanted to be. it's a very warped reality and if i continued the fic i'd love for the second part to be from Dick's perspective just to have fun with the unreliable narrator of it.

back to the porn tho. Dick would seek TIm out again. probably in Tim's own apartment, just bc he wants to destroy every safe space Tim has. getting into Tim's head is an important part of breaking TIm down. the fear of Tim fighting back against being a vampire is one that Dick is trying to figure out how to manage and his current plan is to break Tim mentally. it's why he brings up wanting to sleep with TIm before being a vampire. he *knows* it's gonna fuck up Tim. and the more he puts these little cracks in Tim's psyche, the more he's sure he's breaking Tim down enough to be able to turn him. so going to Tim's apartment and proving that at any point, Dick can easily find Tim and fuck him. always holding the threat of killing Tim over his head. and Dick knows Tim didn't tell anyone when days pass after their first meeting and no Bat comes after him so like. Dick really just pushes the limits. i think he would brand Tim just bc he can. i also got a comment on the fic that mentioned Dick stabbing Tim and fucking the wound and i canNOT get that image out of my head either-

and the necro/snuff kink just. Dick playing the long game, so it takes maybe months of stalking Tim, going after him. sometimes he fucks Tim, sometimes he just fights and taunts him. and all the talk about killing Tim fucks with Tim's head a little bit. i think it'd be fun if it killed Tim's ability to have vanilla/normal sex with someone else, like Kon. it's hard for Tim to understand anyone being attracted to him in a way that doesn't involve him being a dead body. i don't think he develops the kink fully, but he does end up convincing himself being a corpse is the only way he's attractive bc of all the things Dick has said to him. it all plays into Dick psychologically breaking Tim.

i am a lover of fucked up/unhappy endings so. for me. the ending would be Dick following through on his plan to kill Tim and turn him. it'd take months for Dick to work up the courage bc TIm was absolutely right when he pointed out that Dick was too scared to actually follow through on his fantasy. Dick tries, multiple times. he convinces himself no less than five times that this is going to be the one. this'll be the time he really does it. but just as Tim starts to die, Dick panics. i think it's especially fun if once Dick even gives Tim CPR bc of his cold feet. so Tim does "die" for a second and has to brutally come back while Dick is buried inside of him.

but when Dick does it, his fears manifest in that Tim does *not* take being a vampire well. he's constantly trying to kill himself (in the time it takes for Dick to break Tim, Tim probably does figure out what poison can kill a vampire) and Dick ends up having to keep Tim locked up so Tim doesn't kill himself. would truly love to try to write Tim as mentally shattered as possible. part of him loves Dick, but he's fighting himself so hard he's not even sure if it's the vampire side that loves Dick or the human side. he's kept like a human pet, bc Dick is convinced he'll get Tim to accept it sooner or later. just a very fun, very fucked up sort of ending. i say this about all the fics i write but this one specifically i do *really* want to continue someday. i know exactly the direction i'd take it, and it could turn into a pretty long fic with a lot of fucked up porn, a lot of unrequited love, and an eventual mind break for Tim.

[crossdressingdeath]

More thoughts on Durge having been created when Bhaal died: did they have the Urge the whole time, or did that only show up when Bhaal was resurrected? Since they don't remember anything we can't say for sure if the Urge was always there or if it showed up fairly recently. I can see it going either way. If the Urge was always there maybe Bhaal stuck some programming in there when he was making Durge to keep them on track while he wasn't there to keep an eye on them directly, or it was something to do with the part of him that was in them being influenced by or drawn to the rest of him; if the Urge only showed up when Bhaal returned, maybe he was worried that his little divine homunculus wouldn't take kindly to being expected to follow his orders after a century of largely being left to act freely—whether or not those fears were justified depends on the Durge, of course—and decided to put a leash on them to make sure they couldn't disobey, or again maybe it was the part of him in them being influenced or called to by the rest of him but that only kicked in once he was actually around.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[sysig]

Spoiling for a fight, spoiled for choice (Patreon)

[waveoftheocean]

today's special: four (4) wips for the price of one wednesday!!!

[toonagi]

customary artfight warmup drawings post

not as many this time but they've definitely gotten more elaborate. and also more dumb

i also did a couple for my beloved edgy middle school feral murdercat so tw for blood + gore under read more

she's so girlboss

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Art vs Artist 2023!! 💥 I didn't expect the year to be so colourful... but there is a Severe lack of purples. Anyway, it was a literal struggle trying not to add Pavitr art because he keeps infiltrating every month T-T

Happy to say I'm proud of the art evolution! Thank you Spider-Verse for pushing me outside the box and really embracing the fun and whimsical style of Mumbattan. Who knew mimicking old timey comics would be so much fun?

high quality versions of the above images under the cut!!

i fuckin love this clip i want it tattooed on my soul

[bumblingbabooshka]

Started watching SNW season 2 episode 3 and my eyes literally glazed over the moment they both came out in matching all black hoodie-leather jacket-jeans outfits and I couldn’t keep watching after that