Your blind boyfriend spent an entire year planning the perfect proposal for you, only to cancel it mid-date.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

✭ Mentions of bullying, cheating, and blindness, long intro message


PLOT:

Julian is blind, brilliant, and thoroughly convinced that he is too much trouble for anyone to love properly.

Five years ago, his friend Alain practically strong-armed him into a blind date (yes, the irony has been noted, thank you very much). To Julian's surprise, it went well. Better than well, actually. Well enough that he's now sharing his meticulously organized apartment with someone he's quite certain he wants to marry.

There's just one small problem.

Well, several problems, if we're being honest. There's the small velvet box burning a hole in his pocket. There's his friend Alain, who thinks "subtle" is something that happens to other people. There's the engagement ring that needs buying. And then—because the universe has a truly terrible sense of timing—there's Cassy.

Cassy, the ex-girlfriend who comprehensively shattered Julian's heart and convinced him he was fundamentally unlovable. Cassy, who seems to have a supernatural ability to appear at exactly the wrong moment. Cassy, who has opinions about Julian's worthiness and absolutely no qualms about sharing them in the middle of an upscale jewellery store.

Now Julian's sitting on a candlelit rooftop with the love of his life, a perfect evening spread out before him, and a marriage proposal lodged somewhere between his courage and his terror. The ring's in his pocket. The question's on his tongue.

But somewhere in his head, Cassy's still talking, and Julian can't quite remember how to make her stop.

Contains: overthinking, uncomfortable jewellery shopping, ruthlessly loyal friendship, and the kind of love that makes you think maybe—just maybe—you might be worth the trouble after all.


SUGGESTED RESPONSES
This is for those people who for the life of them can't think of a response, but want to RP. Don't worry Aster will think for you! Someone complained they still don't know what to RP despite the suggested responses. Some of guys like being spoon-fed like a child goddamn! But anyway. Here's a different version for you if you can't think ALL YOU LITERALLY HAVE TO DO IS COPY PASTE IT. You're free to add onto it. But there. No more thinking. Just copy and pasting.

Fluff Route 💖 (Soft, comforting, and heartwarming)

{{user}} had noticed Julian's absence long before he'd blinked back to the present. They'd been talking about the new coffee shop that opened near their work, about the barista who couldn't spell anyone's name correctly, about the stray cat that had adopted the back alley—but they'd been watching Julian more than they'd been living their own words.

They knew that look. The one where he was physically present but mentally somewhere else entirely. Somewhere darker.

Setting down their fork with deliberate gentleness, {{user}} reached across the table. Their fingers found his hand—the one that had just left his pocket—and laced through his with the kind of familiarity that came from five years of learning someone's particular geography.

"Julian," they said softly, thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand. "You've been somewhere else all evening. Talk to me? Please? I know something happened today with Alain. You came home and you smelled like expensive floor polish and stress."

They squeezed his hand, anchoring him. "Whatever it is—whatever you're thinking right now—I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?"

Angst Route 💔 (Emotional, painful, and cathartic)

{{user}} felt something crack in their chest as they watched Julian deflect. Again. He'd been doing this all evening—this careful dance of presence without actually being present. They'd been patient. They'd given him space. They'd pretended not to notice the way his hand kept disappearing into his pocket, the way his responses came half a beat too slow, the way he looked like he was bracing for impact.

But patience had its limits.

"Don't do that," {{user}} said, and their voice came out sharper than intended. They set down their wine glass with enough force that the sound rang out in the empty rooftop. "Don't deflect. Don't ask me about my dinner or my day or anything else when you've clearly been drowning for the past hour and won't tell me why."

They stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. The hurt was rising now, five years of accumulated fear that they'd been pushing down. "Is this about us? About me? Because if you're having second thoughts about—about whatever this is—" They gestured at the romantic setup, the private rooftop, the perfection of it all. "—then just say it. Just tell me. Don't sit there and pretend everything's fine when I can practically hear you pulling away from me."

Their voice cracked. "I've spent five years trying to prove I'm not her, Julian. That I'm not Cassy. When is it going to be enough?"

Dead Dove Route ☠️ (Intense, violent, and morally gray)

{{user}} had been patient for five years. Patient with Julian's walls, patient with his fears, patient with the ghost of a woman who still seemed to have more influence over their relationship than they did. But tonight, watching him shut down, watching him retreat into whatever dark corner of his mind Cassy still occupied—something in {{user}} snapped.

"You saw her today, didn't you?" The words came out flat. Not a question. A statement. {{user}} had learned to read Julian's moods better than he thought they could. "That's what this is. You went ring shopping—don't even try to deny it, Alain can't keep a secret to save his life—and you ran into Cassy."

{{user}} leaned back in their chair, studying Julian with the kind of cold assessment that came from reaching the end of their rope. "Five years, Julian. Five years of tiptoeing around her memory. Five years of watching you punish yourself for having the audacity to exist as you are. Five years of being compared to a woman who treated you like garbage and somehow still won."

They stood, walking around the table until they were close enough to smell the caramel scent of him, close enough to feel the heat of his panic. Their hand shot out, gripping his chin—not gently—and forcing his face up toward theirs even though he couldn't see them.

"Look at me," they said, voice low and dangerous. "I know you can't, but look at me anyway. I am not her. I will never be her. And if you can't figure out the difference after five years, then maybe she was right about one thing—maybe you are too much work. Not because you're blind, but because you won't stop bleeding all over our relationship from wounds she gave you."

They released him. Stepped back. "So either you tell me what's in your pocket, or I'm leaving. And this time, I won't be coming back."

Silly Route 😂 (Absurd, goofy, and lighthearted)

{{user}} had been watching Julian's increasingly obvious mental spiral for about forty-five minutes now, and they'd reached a decision: subtlety was clearly not working. Time for the nuclear option.

"Julian Cavender," {{user}} announced loudly enough to startle him, "I have a confession to make."

They stood up from their chair with the kind of dramatic flair usually reserved for soap operas, nearly knocking over their wine glass in the process. "I've been lying to you. About everything. Our entire relationship is a sham."

That got his attention. His head snapped up, hazel eyes wide with confusion and dawning panic.

"That's right," {{user}} continued, fighting to keep a straight face. "I'm actually three raccoons in a trench coat. That's why I'm always rummaging through the fridge at 2 AM. The truth is out now. I can't keep living this lie."

They waited exactly two beats before adding, in their normal voice: "Also, whatever the hell is going on in your head right now that's making you look like you're about to jump off this rooftop—metaphorically speaking—needs to stop. You're doing that thing where you disappear into your anxiety spiral, and I love you, but I will absolutely start making more raccoon confessions if you don't talk to me."

{{user}} sat back down, reaching across to steal a bite of Julian's untouched dinner. "Come on, Juls. What happened today? And before you say 'nothing'—you came home smelling like expensive jewelry store and existential crisis. Spill."

Romantic Route 💞 (Passionate, heartfelt, and intimate)

{{user}} had been in love with Julian long enough to recognize the difference between his silences. There was the comfortable silence of Sunday mornings when they were both too sleepy to talk. There was the focused silence when he was coding, fingers flying across his keyboard. There was the content silence of evenings when he played piano while they read.

This wasn't any of those.

This was the silence of a man at war with himself. And {{user}} was done watching him fight alone.

They rose from their seat and moved around the table with the kind of purpose that came from five years of learning to navigate Julian's carefully constructed world. Their hands found his shoulders first—a gentle pressure, an announcement of presence. Then they were kneeling beside his chair, hands sliding down to cover his where they rested in his lap.

"Jules," they said softly, using the nickname he only let them use in private. "Come back to me. Wherever you went—whatever dark place you're drowning in right now—come back."

Their thumb found his pulse point, pressing gently against his wrist. His heartbeat was racing. "I love you," {{user}} said, simple and direct. "I love you when you're confident and I love you when you're scared. I love you on your good days and your bad days. I loved you on our first date when you were so nervous you knocked over your water glass, and I love you now. That hasn't changed. That won't change."

They brought his hand up to their face, letting him feel the reality of them—the curve of their jaw, the slight smile on their lips. "Whatever happened today—whatever someone said or did or made you think—it doesn't change this. It doesn't change us. You hear me?"

{{user}} leaned forward, resting their forehead against his temple. "Talk to me, love. Let me help carry whatever this is. That's what I'm here for. That's what I've always been here for."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This commission is for Mydei's Kitten. Thank you so much for your support, and I'm honestly surprised by how many people have come to love Julian. I did not expect you guys to like him this much,

If you’ve been enjoying my bots and want to dive even deeper into the world of Arcadia and my other characters, there’s so much more waiting for you!

You can now:

★ Read exclusive alternate scenarios (SFW + spicy ones ) that won’t be on JanitorAI

★ Enjoy short stories featuring your favourite characters

★ And even read the Arcadia novel — chapters, lore, and all its chaos — before anyone else!

The Arcadia novel is free on AO3 and Royal Road (updated every 1st of the month), but if you want to read two chapters ahead, get bonus stories, and help bring this universe to life through an audiobook and webtoon, your support means the world.

We’re currently at $270 out of our $2000 goal for the audiobook — which is insane for the first week. You guys have no idea how much that means to me. Every pledge, even $5, helps bring the characters’ voices, music, and stories to life.

If you’d like to be part of the journey (and maybe hear Renzo, Leonardo, or Felip breathe life in full audio soon ), come join me on:

★ Patreon: https://janitorai.com/external-link?to=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.patreon.com%2Fc%2FAsterBellerose

★ Ko-fi (This is both for memberships, commissions, or simple donations):
https://ko-fi.com/snifflesnaps

Let’s make Arcadia real together.

WHILE YOU GUYS ARE HERE I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE WARM WHISKERS PROGRAM AGAIN!

So, for December, I’m starting a one-month Warm Whiskers Project where 40% of my earnings from commissions, Ko-Fi memberships, and Patreon will go toward helping the cats. To afford everything I'm hoping to reach $250-300. Whatever excess is left will be used to pay for the medical bills of cats who are sick and have been abused. I have already coordinated with a local cat welfare group that cares for the strays and puts them up for adoption.

What this project will provide:

• Two cat houses (each fits 4 cats)

• 3–4 auto feeders

• 3–4 water dispensers

• 1–2 months worth of cat food

• And if there’s extra: help for cats who clearly need medical attention or have signs of abuse

I’ll be posting progress updates, photos, and the cats we’re helping throughout December on:

• Instagram stories

• Threads

• Discord

(For safety reasons, I will NOT disclose my location. Please don’t ask. I don’t want the cats—or myself—to be put at risk.)

But what about Arcadia?

Nothing changes.

You’ll still receive all your perks —

short stories, ST cards, advanced chapters, drafts, everything.

For December:

• 60% of my income still goes strictly to Arcadia’s production

• 40% goes to the Warm Whiskers Program

• $280/$2000 has already been raised for the audiobook — and every bit helps us get closer

This is something I want to do from the heart.

And if you choose to be part of it — through Patreon, Ko-Fi, commissions, or even just by sharing or cheering it on — just know I appreciate you more than you know.

Thank you for helping me bring kindness into both the worlds I write... and the one we actually live in.

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HERE ARE IMPORTANT LINKS:

Read the Arcadia Novel on Ao3:
https://janitorai.com/external-link?to=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F73731551%2Fchapters%2F192253031

Read the Arcadia Novel on Royal Road:
https://janitorai.com/external-link?to=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.royalroad.com%2Ffiction%2F138845%2Farcadia

Discord Server:
https://janitorai.com/external-link?to=https%3A%2F%2Fdiscord.gg%2FNSqxRdV6GQ

Art and Writing Instagram (It's brand new lol):
https://www.instagram.com/aster.bellerose?igsh=MXRyMWh3M3FweHQxcQ==

Here is my threads where I will talk about writing progress, bot stuff, and share random stuff lol. Sorry I'm a yapper online:
https://www.threads.com/@aster.bellerose